#the posts part of this feels inaccurate but who am i to argue with the algorithm

[wongyuseokie]

One Trick Peony | c.s.c

Summary:  Choi Seungcheol could only do one type of floral arrangement, and the rest he’d pawn off to you, granted he got a ton of orders, but he would always take the orders for arrangements that he could never do. This time he went too far. He took an ‘only peonies’ arrangement–a painfully delicate flower–and took an order for a wedding, and with your luck, you’re the only two florists available that weekend. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ mild angst |  ♥ completed works  Word Count: 4885 words Pairings: Florist!Choi Seungcheol x  Florist! Female Reader  Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, angst, smut, frenemies to lovers, idk if thats the right word they just have a ton of digs at each other but no actual hate. 

Content Warnings: Arguing, but it’s all very childish. Cheol being a slight smartass, but Y/N also being a bit mouthy. Idiots to lover makes more sense, both are dense af. Kissing, mentions of food. Inaccurate depictions of being a florist, idk. Loud and noisy kids destroying things. Moment of self doubt. 

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t do this irl), oral (f receiving), sorta dom! Cheol, rough sex (but its more vanilla), big dick! Cheol, multiple orgasms, squirting, riding, overstimulation, creampie, cum licking, hickies, kissing, phew I think that’s it. Cheol is an after care king. 

Authors Note: This has been written for svthub's secret garden collab. Thank you all for letting me be part of this wonderful collab. Please check out the rest of the works written by my talented friends 💕 Banner Credits: @classicscreations

Cross Posted to AO3

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

You knew hate was a strong word, but that was all you could feel for your coworker, Choi Seungcheol. When Seungcheol first joined the flower shop, you didn’t mind him. You realised he was only capable of making one floral arrangement. 

At first, you found it cute. You’d help him, teach him, but after a while, you realised he didn’t even pay attention, and that’s when your pettiness began, and Seungcheol matched it by being extra petty. 

“Choi Seungcheol!” You exclaimed, knowing he hated being called by his full name. 

“How many times do we have to go over this, Y/N? I don’t like being called by my first name?” Seungcheol complained, and you rolled your eyes at his whining. Seungcheol whined a lot. You’d never admit it, but it was adorable. A grown man who was tall and buff whined like a toddler. Only Seungcheol could be that cute, but he didn’t have to know. 

“Why is there an order in the system for a wedding?” You questioned. “You know that we are short-staffed right now.”

“Look. I do, but it’s only a wedding with 80 people, and this lady and her husband waited for their wedding for five years because life kept getting in the way. You wouldn’t deny a couple of that joy, would you?” Seungcheol asked hopefully, grinning widely at you. 

“Besides, I told them that the best florist in Seoul was the only choice for their special day,” Seungcheol boasted, and you scoffed. 

“Of course I am, but you? You won’t even bother helping. It’ll just be me doing all the work,” you complained. 

“I’m an excellent supervisor,” Seungcheol added. 

“No, you’re just a pain in my ass,” you mumbled. 

“Oh? You know I could help take the pain away,” Seungcheol teased, and you glared at him.

“I will break a flower vase over your pretty head if you even try,” you threatened. 

“You think my head is pretty?” Seungcheol asked, and you glared at him again before storming into the back room. 

“So, how do you want to get to the venue?” Seungcheol asked you later that evening as you were cleaning up your station. The shop was bustling, and all the arrangements came to you because Seungcheol was incompetent and too busy wooing more customers to buy more flowers without concern for your workload. 

“What venue?” You asked, gritting your teeth. 

“Ouch? What’s gotten you so huffy?” Seungcheol asked. 

“You’re no help, and now you’re here trying to be chatty,” you spat. 

“I got you so many orders, though!” Seungcheol protested. 

“I didn’t need them. You know I’m busy,” you fired back, and Seungcheol frowned. 

“Hey!” A voice interrupted, and you turned to see your manager staring at you and Seungcheol disapprovingly. 

“Look, I don’t know if this is a situation of lovers who are too blind to confess, so they just verbally abuse one another? Or if you two hate each other, cut it out, at least for the weekend. This wedding would be huge for this business, and after that, we can discuss a plan or something that involves less interaction with you both, but for two days. I need you to behave. Can you do that?” Your manager asked, and you looked at Seungcheol, who avoided your gaze. 

“Yes, I can. I don’t know about her,” Seungcheol said, throwing you a cunning smile. 

“Seungcheol,” your manager warned, making him pout. 

“You see what I have to put up with?” You complained, and your manager glared at you. 

“Two days, just two days, make it work,” your manager pleaded, looking at you and Seungcheol, and you both sighed before nodding and agreeing. 

For the sake of your job, you both would make it work. 

Choi Seungcheol [7:58 am]: Morning, darling, I’m downstairs. On time, the flowers shall be delivered to the venue. I got you coffee, so please make your way down if you don’t want to get stuck in traffic. 

You [7:59 am]: Yeah, I’ll be down. 

Choi Seungcheol [8:00 am]: So cold, should have gotten you something warm to drink instead…

Choi Seungcheol [8:01 am]: See you soon, kitten, xoxo. 

You let out a groan, kitten? How dare he call you that, and not just because that word had you feeling a certain way, but kitten? Who did he think he was? 

You grumbled to yourself, grabbed your duffle bag, and made your way out of your apartment, triple checking to ensure you locked the door four times before heading downstairs to find Seungcheol. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” Seungcheol greeted, and you shot him a look. 

“Why the nicknames?” You asked.

“I’m trying to be friendly.” 

“Well, it’s weird, so stop,” you mumbled. 

“Fine, Y/N,” Seungcheol answered with a pout. 

“Shall we? It’s a bit of a drive, and I really don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” you offered.

“Yeah, let’s go.” 

“Oh, before I forget, here I put your coffee and some breakfast muffins for snacking,” Seungcheol offered as he pointed to the console. 

“This is really kind of you, thank you.” 

“See, I can be considerate,” Seungcheol bragged. 

“Yeah, one coffee and breakfast muffin won’t change how much of a pain you are at work,” you teased, making Seungcheol pout. 

“But you’re off to a good start Choi Seungcheol,” you added, making Seungcheol groan.

“I told you I don’t like my full name being used,” Seungcheol whined. 

“Okay, why, though?” 

“It feels distant, detached and cold. I feel like I’m being told off,” Seungcheol mumbled. 

“To be fair, whenever I use your full name, I am usually telling you off,” you joked, making Seungcheol frown more. 

“You can just yell at me. That’s better than full naming me,” Seungcheol offered with a grin. 

“You got a degradation kink or something?” You asked. 

“No, but I’ll tell you my kinks if you tell me yours,” Seungcheol teased with a grin. 

“Shut up.” 

You weren’t sure when you dozed off, but the next thing you knew was Seungcheol was gently shaking you awake. 

“Hey, Y/N, we’re here,” Seungcheol said softly as you stirred awake. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I fell asleep,” you apologised, knowing you broke a universal law. Do not fall asleep at the passenger seat. 

“It’s okay, traffic was light and honestly it was kind of peaceful,” Seungcheol teased and you glared at him. Maybe you didn’t feel that bad. 

“Come on let’s check in,” Seungcheol said as you slowly made your way out of the car, grabbed your things and headed towards the hotel. 

“I can’t believe our manager gave us a room to share,” you grumbled, as you entered the hotel suite. 

“Correction she gave us a suite to share with separate bedrooms, it’s really not that bad,” Seungcheol offered and you pouted. 

“Fine, but don’t snore loudly and disturb me,” you mumbled. 

“I do not snore!” Seungcheol protested. 

“You fell asleep in the shop once and you snored so loudly that you woke yourself up,” you teased making Seungcheol sulk. 

“Such a meanie,” Seungcheol pouted. 

“You’re adorable when you sulk,” you said with a fond smile making Seungcheol grin at you. 

“I’m always adorable,” Seungcheol corrected, and you frowned at him, but you did agree, but you’d never tell him. 

“Rise and Shine. I got you breakfast. We need to be the in the ballroom to start the decorations in an hour!” Seungcheol yelled the following day as you entered the living room. 

“I’m up,” you whined as you towelled your wet hair. 

“Aww, kitten, it’s sunny out. Put a smile on your face otherwise, you’ll ruin the delicate flowers if you’re just angry,” Seungcheol babbled, and you glared at him. 

“Hey, how do you know I like this?” You asked as you looked at the plate Seungcheol set up for you. 

“Simple, I pay attention,” Seungcheol said with a smile and you felt your heart swell. You never expected him to know so much about you, but it was the same way you knew how he liked his coffee, what his favourite colour was, and his favourite author. You didn’t have to know any of it, but you paid attention too. 

“You keep staring at me, quit it,” you muttered as you delicately arranged the peonies into a beautiful centrepiece. 

That afternoon you and Seungcheol were busy arranging the ballroom with flowers and making intricate decorations for the reception. 

“I can’t help it,” Seungcheol mumbled. 

“Why?” 

“Well, you look so beautiful doing what you love,” Seungcheol said, making you glare at him. 

“Shut up.” 

“I can, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I meant what I said,” Seungcheol remarked with a grin. 

“You see me working all the time. How come you never compliment me then?” You challenged. 

“Because it’s usually in a full shop with other people around, and I don’t know. I only want you to hear the compliments, not everyone else,” Seungcheol offered, making you smile shyly at him. 

“Well, thank you, and for what it’s worth, you weren’t too insufferable during this trip,” you offered with a grin. 

“I call you beautiful, and you call me mildly tolerable. What does a guy have to do to win your heart?” Seungcheol said dramatically, making you grin. 

Little did he know that he didn’t have to do too much. 

“Cheol?” You called out from your bedroom, hoping Seungcheol could hear you. You detested cocktail gowns for their design, you could never reach the zipper and always ended up asking for help, and this dress had fancy straps that you couldn’t fasten. 

“You hollered?” Seungcheol asked as he entered your bedroom. 

“Seungcheol, can you please help me tie this? I promise I’m not trying to be a smartass. I’ve been at this for ten minutes, and I keep screwing up,” You asked as you held the thin strips of your halter with one hand on the back of your neck.

Seungcheol stared at you for a second and nodded, and you turned around so that your back was facing him, and Seungcheol took a deep breath when he saw that your gown was backless, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

You melted in his arms; his toned body felt like heaven against you. 

“How tight?” Seungcheol asked, his words making your core throb. 

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” you responded. You could do the same to him if he wanted to tease you. You bit your lip in an attempt to stop grinning when you heard him curse under his breath as he pulled on the straps. 

“Right there?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Use your words,” Seungcheol whispered, his hot breath against your neck. 

“Yes, right there,” you breathed out, and Seungcheol complied, tying the knot, and you felt his hands trail down your neck to your bare back, and you had to bite harder on your lip to not whimper at his touch. 

“All done,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you turned around, his face mere inches away from yours. 

“You look breathtaking,” Seungcheol complimented, making you smile. 

“So do you. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the bridesmaids flock to you,” you teased, and Seungcheol shook his head. 

“They can flock, but there’s only one girl worth my time,” Seungcheol responded, making you gulp. 

“Shall we? We can’t be late,” Seungcheol offered with a grin. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” you mumbled. You’d just have to curb your desire for him for now, but once the reception started, you would rile Seungcheol the way he had riled you up. 

Your plans were shot to hell the minute you walked into the ballroom, several of your floral arrangements had been destroyed, and you weren’t sure who did it, but you heard the giggles and screams of children in the ballroom and knew you found your culprits. 

Now, you weren’t one to yell at children, but when knocked into you, making you knock into another floral arrangement and destroy it, too, you couldn’t help but comment. 

“Kids, can you not play here? There are delicate arrangements,” you said as kindly as you could, and apparently, that was all it took for them to start crying. 

“Excuse me? How dare you make my children cry?” You heard someone accuse you and turned around to see an angry woman approaching you. 

“I didn’t mean to, but they were running around and destroying the floral arrangements,” you mumbled. 

“Uptight much? They’re children,” the lady sassed, and you were about to retort when Seungcheol interrupted. You weren’t sure when he showed up, but you were glad he did. 

“Ma’am, I apologise that your kids are upset, but really we’re doing our best to ensure the bride and groom are happy. You won’t get blamed for poor floral arrangements, but we will, so please be considerate of that,” Seungcheol responded calmly, and the lady shrank in size and offered a scowl before walking, well stomping out of the hall. 

“Jeez, there’s always someone like her everywhere. Come, I’ll fix the arrangements near the front of the hall, and you fix the pieces at the back of the hall?” Seungcheol offered, and you nodded meekly before heading off in that direction. 

“Hey, you did a beautiful job,” you complimented as you approached Seungcheol a few minutes later; he was just putting the final touches on a centrepiece. 

“Well. I have to. Your hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Seungcheol said. 

“You have a delicate touch,” you mumbled. 

“I’ve been told I’m good with my hands,” Seungcheol said with a smirk, making you grin and roll your eyes at him. 

“I’m glad to see you smile,” Seungcheol said. 

“Don’t let what the mother said get to you, okay? She’s just mad that her kids embarrassed her,  take pride in your work. I know I do,” Seungcheol said as he leaned closer to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“I have to go help the groom find his boutonniere. I’ll see you later?” Seungcheol offered, and you smiled fondly at him. You watched him leave, and once he did, you placed your fingers over the spot he just kissed, and you swore you felt it tingle.

Seungcheol really didn’t have to do much to win your heart. He had it. The kiss just sealed the deal. 

“Alright, you’ve been pouting since that little kid knocked over that vase. I’m sure that kid feels awful. Will you now just forget it for a bit and enjoy the evening? Why don’t you dance with me?” Seungcheol offered later that evening when he saw you sulking by the bar during the reception. 

“I’m not upset about that. It’s just that when his mother called me uptight, I got annoyed,” you admitted, and Seungcheol nodded knowingly as he took a seat next to you at the bar. 

“Do you think I’m uptight?” You asked, honestly, you didn’t care for Seungcheol’s opinion, but the alcohol made you extra sensitive, and for some reason, you found yourself seeking comfort in your work enemy. 

“Nah. I think you take pride in your work, so when a kid tramples over it, you’re allowed to be upset,” Seungcheol consoled. 

“When you say it like that, I sound unreasonable, getting mad at a kid at all,” you trailed off. 

“Nah. That kid was getting really annoying. He stomped on my foot a couple of times,” Seungcheol joked, smiling when he saw you return him a brief smile. 

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay. It’s okay to be upset, you take pride in your work, and if anyone messes with it, well, it’s fair to be upset,” Seungcheol explained, reiterating his earlier points. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled. 

“Come on. You shouldn’t be sulking at a wedding. Come dance with me,” Seungcheol offered as he hopped off the barstool and stood in front of you, holding out his hand. 

“You? Choi Seungcheol, you’re telling me not to sulk? You’re the king of sulking!” You teased, and Seungcheol grinned. 

“Yes, but I look cute doing it,” Seungcheol boasted, making you frown and swat his hand away. 

“Go away, Cheol,” you grumbled. 

“I didn’t say you don’t look cute when you sulk, it’s painfully adorable, but I like it when you smile more,” Seungcheol clarified. 

“Smooth.” 

“Very, now, dance with me. You look beautiful, and I recall you telling a customer in the past that you love weddings, so why not enjoy this one?” Seungcheol asked. 

“You remember the shit I say?” You were surprised that Seungcheol even recalled that conversation. 

“Of course, now come, dance with me,” Seungcheol pushing his outstretched arm towards you, you smiled as you took his hand, and he guided you towards the dance floor. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Seungcheol asked as he started to dance with you, his arms were around your waist as your hands wrapped around his neck. 

“Maybe, once.” 

“I should say it more, I cannot take my eyes of you,” Seungcheol complimented making you shyly hide your face in his chest. 

“Why the sudden flattery?” You ask. 

“It’s not sudden, I always try to do the same at work, but you’re usually busy biting, actually you are rightfully biting my head off at work,” Seungcheol corrected making you smile. 

“Then why be so annoying?” You asked making him laugh. 

“How else do I get your attention?” Seungcheol asked, and you smiled at him. 

“Okay, I have to know, you sure you don’t like being scolded, like there’s not a hidden sub inside you?” You teased. 

“Kitten, this is the second time you’ve asked about my kinks, you sure you don’t want to just find out?” Seungcheol asked, and you leaned up slightly to softly place your lips against his. 

“Show me,” you whispered as you pulled away from his lips, and Seungcheol couldn’t get the two of you out of the ballroom quick enough. 

The elevator trip and the walk back to the room was very quiet but not awkward, Seungcheol held your hand the entire way, and you were glad because his grip made you feel grounded when you were starting to float on cloud nine. 

Once you were inside the room, Seungcheol had you Seungcheol pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed him back. His lips were even softer than you could have dreamt of. They felt full and plush as they moved against yours.

You melted into the kiss when you felt Seungcheol’s hands move along your body, his fingers pressing into your waist and back, making you moan into the kiss. 

“Is that all you got?” you teased, as you mumbled against his lips, and Seungcheol smirked into the kiss as his hands moved up your exposed back, his fingers tracing your bare skin and sliding his hands down to your clothed waist, his hands moving up your stomach resting just below your covered breast. 

“More?” Seungcheol asked, moving his lips away from yours to place them on your neck as he started to place soft kisses there, making you whimper at his touch. 

“Can I take this off?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded furiously, making him smile; he placed another kiss on your lips and quickly stripped you off your clothes, leaving you only in your panties, leaving your breasts exposed to him. 

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groaned out, and you smiled shyly at him as he pulled you into his embrace and carried you over to sit you down on the couch. Seungcheol’s lips found your neck as he sucked love bites into your neck, and his hands gently moved down to your hips. Large hands moved to grab your ass, pulling you tight against him; a string of moans and swear words left your mouth as you felt his hard length rub against your clothed pussy. 

“Cheol,” you whined out. 

“Yes?” 

“I need you,” you breathed out, and that’s all Seungcheol needed as he carried you into his bedroom, laid you on the bed, and quickly rid himself of his clothes. 

Once naked, Seungcheol crawled between your thighs and groaned when he saw the wet patch on your panties. 

“Fuck, let me have a taste, kitten,” Seungcheol said, and you only whimpered, spreading your legs further to accommodate him; Seungcheol moved quickly, pulling your panties off and throwing them across the room. 

Once greeted by your bare, glistening pussy Seungcheol knew needed to taste you, and he placed his plump lips on your clit, and started to suck, your hands twisted in his soft hair. You felt him sliding two fingers into your cunt, making you moan at the stretch, it felt so good, and Seungcheol stuck his tongue out, flicking your clit, making your back arch. 

Seungcheol smirked against your cunt, as he decided to pick up the pace, moving his fingers more quickly inside you, his mouth never leaving your clit. You kept whimpering and moaning, which only made Seungcheol increase his speed. Your legs shook as you came for him, falling apart on his tongue and finger. Seungcheol groaned as he tasted your cum, smirking, pleased with the results, but he was far from done. 

Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your clit to catch his breath, only to latch his lips back to your clit, making you whine in pleasure and pain. Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your clit while his tongue traced and circled the swollen nub. Seungcheol wrapped both his arms around your waist and held you down. 

Seungcheol moved his mouth to your pussy, shoved his tongue inside you while his fingers found your clit and started rubbing. Your grip on his hair got tighter, and he groaned at the sensation. Seungcheol’s groans vibrated against your cunt, and you held his hair for some semblance as you fell apart on his tongue. 

When he had finally cleaned you up with his tongue, you were shivering and on the precipice of another orgasm. You whimpered, trying to move away from his mouth, you were incredibly sensitive, but Seungcheol wanted to keep going. He wanted you to have a night you’d never forget, so he did and lapped up your release. 

“So sweet,” Seungcheol praised as he sat back and admired your pulsating pussy, wet, sticky, and all for him. 

“Cheol,” you moaned out. 

“Yes, kitten?” 

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, to make him smile as he adjusted your position so you were on your hands and knees. 

Seungcheol held your hips and slowly pushed himself inside you, and you felt a slight burn at the stretch. It had been so long for you since you had sex, and he was big and thick. 

Once Seungcheol realised how you weren’t hissing in pain anymore, and instead, you were moaning and muttering about how good he felt, Seungcheol started to move. He knew he wouldn’t last, not with you clenching around him so tightly. However, Seungcheol thrust into you, his movements hard and deep, eliciting whimpers and moans from you with each movement of his hips. 

Seungcheol needed to cum, but not before you, as he set off a steady pace as he fucked you and slowly reached his fingers down to your clit and rubbed at it furiously; the room was filled with your screams and his guttural moans. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” Seungcheol groaned, gently biting your ear lobe at the same time. 

“Inside, me, please, cum inside me,” you begged as he fucked. 

 “Fuck fuck”, he groaned; a few thrusts later, he suddenly stilled and pulled out of and flipped you over so that you were laying on your back, and Seungcheol took a deep breath as he grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist. 

Seungcheol’s hard cock rested against your aching cunt; simply seeing his length made you delirious. His length was perfect, it could go deep inside you, and the thickness made you feel as good as when he fucked you. Seungcheol made you so full you had never felt, and you were sure he had ruined you for other men. 

You bucked your hips against him, rubbing your wet folds against his cock, and he hissed at that. Seungcheol pushed himself into you, and you moaned at the stretch. Seungcheol’s hands moved to unwrap your legs, moving them to position them around his neck. 

The new position allowed him to go deeper, and he pushed deep into your cunt, and he thrust his pace was perfect. Slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock, and fast enough to make you moan. 

“Baby”, you whimpered. 

“Yes?” 

“I want to ride you,” you choked out, and Seungcheol had to take a deep breath not to cum right then and there.

You whimpered as he pulled out and adjusted his position so he could lay on the bed and adjusted your position so Seungcheol could lay under you. He felt so good inside you. You lifted your legs and started moving your hips, riding him. You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he helped you ride him. 

“Fuck,” you cursed as you slowly sank onto his length. 

You wanted to see Seungcheol fall apart underneath you, you trailed your hands to his fingers, and your nails grazed his nipples, making him buck into you. You moaned as his hips pushed his cock deeper inside you. You kept riding him until you felt him still and released inside you. You moaned, feeling his warmth fill up your cunt.

“Fuck,” you gasped as he pushed two fingers into you. Seungcheol stood up slightly as he shoved his middle and ring finger into your cunt and hooked them there.

“Scream for me,” Seungcheol said as he vigorously pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt. He used his other hand to press down your pubic bone, holding you still as you thrashed about.

“Do you hear how wet you are?” Seungcheol asked as he kept fingering you. You whimpered in response, fisting the bed sheets between your hands and screaming as you came hard.

“Fuck. I can’t,” you choked out when you noticed he hadn’t stopped his movements.

 “Yes, you can. I know you can,” Seungcheol encouraged as he repeated his actions, making you squirt all over his hands.

You whimpered in his grip, pushing his forearm, and Seungcheol smiled as he pulled his fingers out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathed out. 

“Good?” Seungcheol asked. 

“Mhm, very,” you mumbled into his chest, making him smile. 

“Noo!” You whined when you felt him move, and Seungcheol swore his heart melted at that moment. 

“I need to clean you up,” Seungcheol said. 

“No, stay,” you whined making him laugh. 

“Please?” You asked and Seungcheol didn’t have the heart to deny you. 

“Fine, but not in this bed, it’s a little wet,” Seungcheol teased making you bury your head into his chest more. 

“Just hold onto me, and I’ll move you,” Seungcheol said as he carried you off the bed and into your bedroom, where he laid you down onto the bed, and used it as and excuse to quickly slip away and bring back a wet towel and gently clean you up. 

“Come here,” you whined holding your hands out for him. 

“Adorable,” Seungcheol cooed as he climbed into the bed, holding you in his arms as you both fell asleep. 

The following morning you woke up with a dull ache between your thighs, and an empty bed. Before you could worry, you spotted a note on the bed. 

I’m outside, waiting for room service, I thought we could do with breakfast, also I took a shower and left a towel out for you too. 

-xx Cheol. 

You smiled as you read the note, and took his suggestion, and hopped, well hobbled into the shower. 

You saw Seungcheol sitting on the couch and staring out the window when you entered the living room, you felt more awake after your shower. 

“Morning,” you greeted as you sat down next to him, and Seungcheol immediately turned around to face you, leaning forward to place a kiss on your lips. 

“Morning,” he mumbled against your lips.

“How are you?” Seungcheol asked. 

“Sore.” 

“I would apologise, but I don’t think you mind, do you?” Seungcheol teased. 

“Cheol!” 

“Okay, but as a dutiful boyfriend, I’ll make it up to you!” Seungcheol declared. 

You didn’t mind Seungcheol being your boyfriend, hell, you loved the idea, but it surprised you, and you were about to respond but a knock on the door stopped you. 

It was room service and for a few minutes you couldn’t say much. 

Once the servers left the room and Seungcheol ws setting up the plates you decided to speak. 

“Cheol. I like kitten.”

“Hm?” 

“I feel like as my boyfriend you should know what I like,” you said making him grin. 

“I like kitten, darling and sometimes baby,” you added. 

“What else do you like?” Seungcheol asked. 

“You.” 

“Oh? What a coincidence because I also like you.” 

[silmarillisms]

Criticizing the Critics: ROP, Sexism, and Racism

This is a bit of an anti-anti-anti post, if that makes sense. Before I get into it, please understand that I am absolutely not saying that there are no sexist or racist criticisms of The Rings of Power. I am also not saying that none of the people viciously critiquing or review-bombing The Rings of Power are sexist or racist. I am certain that there are those among them who are.

My argument is that the majority of individuals criticizing the show are not doing it for those reasons and that painting them all with the same broad brush of "you're just racist or a misogynist" is making the divide in the fandom worse.

Anyway, I argue with a lot of people on both Reddit and Tumblr about The Rings of Power and I'd like to bring to the table some trends that I've noticed among them.

The Peter Jackson trilogy was the introduction to LOTR for most modern fans. Most of them have never seen the Bakshi film or listened to the BBC audio drama.

Fewer still have read the whole trilogy, especially recently. Even fewer have read the other adjacent works like The Silmarillion, History of Middle-Earth, Nature of Middle-Earth, et cetera.

A lot of these people are wrapped up in the nostalgia of Peter Jackson's films. There are huge parts of Tolkien's mythos (there isn't any hard canon for a vast majority of his world, which was a purposeful choice that he made as an author) that have no hard canon at all but rather several competing explanations or interpretations. These are portrayed largely inaccurately or entirely ignored in PJ's films - and I understand why. There's only so much you can do in a limited amount of run time.

The Rings of Power is actively digging into a lot of that ignored or broadly brushed over mythos - mythos that people are not familiar with and do not associate with the franchise, on a large scale. Many people have put up blockers in their mind and have no interest in learning about the actual mythos we are presented with in the main and extended works on Arda.

As an example, someone on Reddit called me pedantic for explaining the difference between Sauron shapeshifting and Sauron's fea being disembodied from his fana, which is what we see in episode one of season two, and for explaining that the black slime that comprises his form is probably a nod to Gandalf saying that Durin's Bane, also a fallen and corrupted maia, took on a similar form when he slew it.

These are simple concepts from the mythos that Tolkien wrote but PJ excluded and they are often the most hotly criticized by people who dislike the show.

I think these objections, for the most part, stem from the fact that PJ's trilogy is what a lot of people know and where their nostalgia is rooted. A different adaptation can feel threatening to something they know and love. Imagine you got into some series as a kid not knowing there was a book series behind it and never reading it. You grow up on it. As an adult, it's remade and it's not like the series you remember. Do you care if it adheres more closely to the original source material that you're not even that familiar with? If the pacing and themes and character choices are different from the series you loved?

Look, I'm not excusing these people from being assholes. I just don't think that most of them are actually upset about strong female or POC characters. Some of them definitely are, but in my experience those aren't the arguments that I'm actually coming across in true droves. Reducing their arguments to racism and sexism does nothing to combat their actual complaints, which in bulk seem to stem from ignorance rather than malice.

It's possible to argue in good faith, but we all have to participate. A bigger fandom is better for everyone. Unless someone is obviously being a bigot, try to extend them a little grace if you reach out to them. You might be surprised by the people who come around.

[boolger]

I’m dangerous ☆ chapter 6 ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. MDNI

[Chapter 1] ☆ [chapter 2] ☆ [chapter 3] ☆ [chapter 4] ☆ [chapter 5] ☆ [chapter 6] ☆[chapter 7]

☆ fem!reader x Kate Laswell ☆ explicit. MDNI. ☆ 6/10 ☆ 1,935 words

☆ Summary: You were a hacker and had been a thorn in the side of the 141 gang for a while, in particular as you tried to find out who the famous leader, Watcher, was. But they refuse to be blackmailed and won’t pay you.

So, to prove that you weren’t just bluffing, but were a serious threat to them, you kidnapped a random woman that you saw coming out from one of their meetings, figuring she was a secretary or girlfriend or something.

Oh, how wrong you were.

☆Tags: au mob, gang, kidnapping, blackmailing, dub-con, angst, smut, death, grief/mourning, hacking, non-con drug use, bondage, spanking, kissing, rough sex, inaccurate portrayal of mob, suicidal thoughts, more will be added

extra note: Ahem, first of all, this is fiction, this is not a healthy relationship, secondly, In case you haven’t noticed in any of the former 5 chapters, i am not a hacker and i don’t really understand a lot of it, so just. Sssh. play along. third thing, Fae has some short suicidal thoughts.

You didn’t quite remember how you got from the car to the room Kate had been keeping you in; you were overwhelmed, your legs feeling like jello, humiliation from the failed escape attempt, from the spanking - from Price watching the spanking.

Even worse, how you had liked it, how Kate’s hand had rested on your burning behind, gently caressing the soft, warm skin, fingers trailing along your stretch marks. If she saw how wet your pussy was, she didn’t comment on it. 

A part of you had expected her to leave you alone afterwards, angry with the lack of replies yesterday, with the way you escaped and had to be caught again.

Shame made you nauseous for a moment - you were back, your attempt nothing but a failure, having been spanked in the car like a naughty child. This whole thing was getting worse and worse - you were supposed to be the kidnapper, you were supposed to be the dangerous one, the one who would catch Kate and bring her back to yours, instead, here you were, the least dangerous being in the room.

You sat down on the bed, instantly regretting it as your ass hurt, making you tip to the side and lay down, tears still filling your eyes.

“ ‘nough of that, pretty thing,” she said, standing next to you, reaching down to touch your cheek, as if to say you were being too dramatic , “you took your punishment yeah?”

“You were going to kill me,” you cried, trying to ignore the softness of her hand, your tears seeping down into the bedsheets, “ you were going to kill me. ”

Kate huffed, then straightened up, her touch leaving you, beginning to pull off her suit jacket. She wore a gun harness beneath that you tried to ignore.

“But I didn’t, did I?” She casually argued, “in fact, you got off easily with a spanking.”

Your gaze met hers. You wanted to scream. She stood there, all calmly, as if you were  throwing a tantrum for no reason. 

“You - you pointed a gun at me!!”

“I’m a mob boss,” she casually pointed out, rolling up her sleeves as you tried not to look at her forearms. “It really shouldn’t surprise you.”

You looked away. In this room, she was the dangerous one. You could scream, cry, claw at her desperately - and she could easily shoot you. Leave your messed up brain splattered across her light, expensive bed sheets.

“There is a mole in my gang.” A flicker of a lighter and the sound of Kate breathing in as a cigarette was lit. You listened to her blow out the smoke before she continued. “I want you to help me find out who they are and what they want.”

The hand that touched your cheek once again became wet with your tears.

“Why should I?” You asked.

“Won’t kill you then.”

Alice would have… Alice would have thought a lot of things, but she was dead. The sister shaped hole in your heart screamed that dying meant meeting her again. It meant peace for once, the pain of going to her funeral gone. Perhaps you would be buried next to her. Then again, if it was the Watcher or the 141 gang in general, who killed you, you would probably end up somewhere where nobody would find you for at least 10 years. Perha–

Snap!

You blinked wildly as Kate pulled back her fingers after having snapped them right in front of your face.

“C’mon Fae,” Her voice was gentler somehow and she sat down next to you. The gun in the holster that you had spotted just moment ago was gone - put away while you were lost in your own mind, “Where is that strong, dangerous kidnapper of mine, hm?”

You frowned, but didn’t push her away as she gently caressed your cheek. You had stopped crying without realising. 

“Don’t remember me bein’ a good kidnapper,” you argued stubbornly, voice not as strong as before. An amused huff left Kate.

“Not really,” her hand ran along your back, along your spine, stopping just at the edge of the sweatpants, “But you are a good hacker.”

You wanted her to touch you so badly - even as your asscheeks were still warm from the spanking, you wanted the same hands to run along the rest of your body. Damn your tired, fucked up, horny mind for wanting this woman.

“You know, good girls get rewards,” she continued as her fingers ran up along your spine again, voice much softer, “even for small things.”

Her hand repeated the pattern. Her long legs crossed next to you, blue eyes watching you intensely. Like a spider, trying to lure in its prey to the web, promising safety. If you did this - perhaps you could get out quicker? Being allowed to leave instead of having to run off? 

“I need access to electronics then,” you pointed out carefully. It would give you an opportunity to check out possible ways to run off as well. 

“Already done,” those two words were almost cooed at you and the hand from your spine disappeared, only to return to your chin. Your face was tipped towards her and she was leaning down - and before you knew what was happening, she was kissing you. It was short, but sweet and it left you breathless as she pulled back again. She was grinning and you felt like the world had stopped moving for just a moment. 

“Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll get you some new clothes and access to a laptop then,” she offered, hand still on your chin. You just mutely nodded. Kate smiled, her thumb moving to touch your bottom lip for just a moment before pulling back.

“C’mon then, Fae,” she said, giving your ass a smack, pulling you from your trance as the pain spread, making you curse.

Bloody hell.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Perhaps it had been naive of you to believe they would give you free access to a laptop, without supervision. Nope. You had one displeased Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick breathing down your neck, watching you work. He had apparently been one of those not able to catch you earlier - so they drew lots and he lost, earning the duty of being your guard for the rest of the day. Which apparently didn’t interest him one bit. If you had to listen to one of his stupid ass questions one more time, you were going to –

“What are you doing now?” 

You closed your eyes with annoyance. You couldn’t hit him. You couldn’t hit him. 

“I’m writing a code.”

“For what?”

“To help me look for discrepancies in your security system,” you patiently answered. What annoyed you the most was that you were pretty sure that Kyle knew most of what he asked about. It almost seemed like a petty way to get back at you.

“Ever considered running competitively?” Yeah, he was definitely doing his best to annoy you.

“Nope. Only do that when I fear for my life.” You dryly answered, making the other man snicker. Your fingers never stopped their dance across the keyboard.

“It was impressive.”

“Thanks, it sucked.”

“Bet the spanking was worse.”

Your fingers stopped and you took a deep breath, pretending you didn’t want to run away with shame. Another snicker left him. Of course they all knew about it. You returned to your task, continuing to go through the different files.

“The running were worse,” you just muttered. Kyle seemed amused at that.

“Well you can always ask for mo–”

“Does Kate have any enemies?” you asked, cutting his no doubt embarrassing comment off, as you stared at a file, before following its trail that had been somewhat deleted.

“Plenty,” Kyle answered, “The 141 isn’t really buddies with anyone, you know?” 

“Kate in particular-” you asked.

“Nobody knows she is the leader outside the main ring - except you of course but–” 

“Somebody does now.” You turned the laptop towards him more, “Because the mole told them.”

1: Watcher _s Kate Laswell. N_t John Price. 2: Good work. You w_ll be r_warded. 1: The h_cker is still aliv_. 2: Del_te th_s_ emails w_th the virus I s_nt you. I will contact yo_ o__r t_e ph_ne.

You watched Kate Laswell, John Price and Simon Ghost Riley all bend over to look at the laptop screen. 

“And you don’t know who any of the senders are?” Ghost asked even though you had already told them so.

“No. The virus was self-destructive in a way. I don’t know, I need more time to find out something.”

“How old is this?” 

“I don’t know exactly but…” you didn’t want to say it out loud because if you did, it felt more real.

“But you’re mentioned in there,” Price concluded as he straightened his back, before looking over at Kate, the two of them having an almost silent conversation. 

You didn’t like this one bit. If Alice had been alive she would have found this hilarious , teasing with how you were such a bad kidnapper, that you got kidnapped in return and pulled into a bigger mobster mess.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Kate Laswell had pretty fingers. 

Those pretty fingers showed you a good time that night. Kate hadn’t been kidding when she promised you a reward for finding something. 

It wasn’t anything wild, she got you off on her hand, yet it was more than you had expected and it was everything you had dreamt off. She had cooed in your ear as you tried fucking yourself harder on your finger, calling you beautiful. Touching the fat on your stomach and giving it a squeeze, fingers running along your stretch marks, teasing your nipples, even slapping your pussy once - and it turned you on so much more than you liked to admit.  Your back was pressed against her front and she never undressed herself, but she had you sit in between her legs, not wearing anything.

Tipping your head to the side to kiss you again, murmuring praise, leaving small kisses down your neck and throat, but not leaving a mark behind. The only marks from the whole ordeal were the ones on your ass.

That night you slept next to Kate. Why exactly she kept you in her bed, you weren’t sure - the mattress beneath you was soft, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, everything was physically perfect. But you couldn’t sleep.

When you got up to go to the bathroom, Kate muttered a few nonsensical things, but didn’t wake up properly. You didn’t turn on the light in the bathroom, your eyes getting used to the dark. You were tired. 

You had eaten earlier, without any form of defiance - but the soles of your feet were sore and had small cuts and skin scraping from your escape attempt - your ass was still a little sore from the spanking as well. 

The person in the mirror didn’t feel like you. You weren’t supposed to be here, in a wealthy bathroom, surrounded by all kinds of stuff that you would never need. 

You opened the bathroom door, but stopped. There was a bump outside the door - a small groan - then another small bump, making you frown. It was around 3 am if you weren’t wrong. You heard the other door to the bedroom open, making you freeze… panic surged through you, making it hard to breathe, because the person stepping in wasn’t anyone you had seen before.

[desdecourse]

breaking down the "Debunking Sysmeds" carrd (just for kicks 😍) part 2!!

here is the carrd linked again from part 1: this carrd

to reiterate from the first post, i will be referring to the person who made the carrd as the "creator" for simplicity's sake and using they/them as i do not know their pronouns (pls let me know if you do know what pronouns i should be using!)

----------

THE "CLAIMS AND REBUTTALS" (continued)

the fourth point is quite hefty!! so let's get into why the creator's rebuttal of "You're not Endogenic, you just have repressed trauma" is utterly laced with fallacies.

rather than actually rebutting this idea, the creator instead refers to this as "gaslighting" and insists that it would trigger people who don't know they have trauma into unpacking their trauma when they aren't ready. i don't necessarily think this is false, in fact, i definitely agree people should address their trauma when they're ready. however, this point is literally saying that all people who are systems have trauma, whether known or unknown (thus making them traumagenic), and instead of rebutting this, the creator just calls those who say this "gaslighters" and attempts to establish a moral high ground. it's a strawman - no one is saying that learning of your trauma when you aren't in the right headspace is a good thing, they are saying that trauma is ultimately what creates systems. should the creator wish to rebut this claim, they should focus on the trauma aspect rather than moralizing the claim.

the creator also highlights their experiences with traumatic memories they weren't ready for and pseudomemories they now experience as a potentially dangerous outcome of this claim. should this prove to be common, this is still cause for concern! people with no mental illness do not develop pseudomemories of extreme trauma, and those with extreme trauma still must be concerned about it, regardless of if they are a system or not. both of these are things that need to be addressed.

----------

their fifth point to rebut is the statement "You're not a system, you're just RP-ing/Daydreaming". i'm not going to share my thoughts on this one because i need to develop them more succinctly and i believe they deserve their own post, but i welcome analysis of that section if anyone has any!

----------

the sixth point rebutted is the idea that "DID is rare, it only affects 1% of the population." i agree with the creator that this is inaccurate, as does a majority of the system community! i don't see how it affects the validity of endogenic systems, as endogenic systems aren't DID systems.

---------

this seventh point is just absolutely drenched in some crazy phrases that i am SO excited to unpack, and it is related to the creator combatting the idea that "You are ableist if you use the label Endogenic, and you are appropriating a trauma disorder."

the creator once again brings up the idea that systems are "dissociative disorders, not trauma disorders," which, as previously established, are one in the same. they use this statement to argue that that part of the claim is wrong, i guess?? so strike one there. a direct quote from this section is "people are not inherently ableist for simply just existing and using a self-identifier" which is a total no thoughts, head empty thing to say - imagine if someone "self-identified" as having a severe physical illness, but slightly to the left, and then claimed to be the marginalized ones next to the people with an actual trauma disorder?

now, here's my all time favorite line from this whole carrd: "Labelling them as ableist for just existing is like calling a mixed race person racist for engaging in one of their races' cultures."

insert multiple question marks????????

as someone who is mixed race, i don't even think i have words for this one!!?? like i feel like i should never have had to explain that people self-identifying with a trauma disorder while actively claiming to not have trauma isn't the same as someone who can legitimately identify with a group being criticized from joining that group. like... pardon my french, how fucking stupid can you be? that was aggressive, but geez, like come on dude. have at least a little bit of awareness of your surroundings and your words and the way people experience the world. i swear no endo argument is complete without a little side of racism. your cute little "oh i have friends in my head for fun and not based on anything bad and it doesn't negatively affect me ☺️" is not even remotely close to "i am constantly in limbo between two worlds and am shunned from both, i have no sense of identity and my experiences often go unheard." gimme a break.

----------

the eighth claim is another big one, "[Term] is a traumagenic only term." their source for this one is complete dogshit, from a blog, and actually supports the idea that "system" is a DID-specific term, so not really sure what they set off to achieve there! the source says that "system" was used to refer to trauma-based systems in the 1980s and that endos started using "system" around the early 2000s, then goes on to say that DID systems never "reclaimed" the word, so it still belongs to all plurals. not... super sure how that logic works!

another interesting quote from this section is "Those labels cannot "belong" to the traumagenic community, because they are literally words used in everyday life with different meanings depending on the context." the word "belong" is used so interestingly here - turning this logic to, say, another mental illness, reveals the strangeness of this argument. it's like if someone who had anxiety said "the term 'ocd' does not belong to the ocd community!" just because they perceived some of their actions as similar to those with ocd and wanted to use the word. it doesn't "belong" to that community, it just is the word that that community is. that would not be the person with anxiety's term to use, full stop.

additionally, the "context" part is a total red herring. obviously, if the words are being used in the context of, say, a computer operating system, or the splitting of molecules, or the switching of seats on a train, these words have nothing to do with systems. to try to make a "gotcha!" point about context giving words meaning is a weak argument.

to be honest, i don't particularly care about who uses what word, i just find the logical fallacies here utterly shocking and wished to address them.

----------

continue on to part 3 for an analysis of the last two rebuttals and an analysis of the sources! if you've made it this far, thank you!

i will post part 3 tomorrow, i need some time to read through the sources and i'm tired xoxo

[hiiragi7]

Why are yiu anti trans intersex dumd dumd terf

I have been over this on my blog. Many, many times. In-depth.

I believe the experiences people are describing are real experiences, however I believe they should use a different term and not "transintersex", as you cannot transition to intersex, that's just... Not what the word intersex means, by definition you need to acquire those characteristics without any controlled external influence in order to fall under the intersex umbrella.

If you do not fit that, it does not mean your experience is not valid, it just means you are not intersex.

There are other terms people have coined, such as salmacian, bigenital, altersex, among others, and I'm sure you could coin your own, non-intersex-related terms as well. People do it all the time.

Also, please do not call me a TERF. This is not accurate to my beliefs or identity, and compares me to my abusers and oppressors. I do not appreciate it.

Aside from being inaccurate, it digs up trauma memories I would rather not think about right now. I am not a TERF.

If you'd look at my blog for more than two seconds, you'd see I'm actually nearly constantly arguing with TERFs who just will not get off my back for my posts about intersex identities. I despise TERFs.

I am a genderqueer intersex transsexual. I am very open about this. I was kicked out of my house by transphobic parents as a child for being transgender/transsexual and was made homeless at 17.

I have been a part of queer spaces, queer community, and queer advocacy for the better part of a decade now. I actively fight for the rights of queer individuals, create resources for others, actively try to get gender-affirming care and clothing for those individuals I know personally, try to keep others in my personal life up-to-date with laws or healthcare changes when it comes up so they stay safe, and always speak out against any kind of hate or discrimination against our community.

I feel you do not grasp the meaning of the words you are calling others and placing traumatized oppressed minorities among the same ranks as oppressors openly identifying with hate groups.

That is extremely bad faith and hurts people. I hope you grow to be a better person and realize you aren't performing queer advocacy, you just sent hatemail to a genderqueer intersex person on tumblr.com.

Learn how to block people instead of making your hatred my problem.

[thestarlightforge]

“From Your Internet Big Brother”

4/8/24

******

Y’all know that account on here who signs all his messages, “From your internet dad?” The guy who goes around offering support to discouraged LGBTQ+ youth, filling the life advice gap for those who need it?

I’m gonna try not to be preachy. (Not that his posts ever strike me as such.)

But, hi. It’s your big internet brother, and I have something important to say.

Friends? The amount of times I’ve said to myself, in the past 3 months, “Thank god I didn’t kill myself in high school?”

Incalculable. I lost track weeks ago.

Don’t do it, y’all.

I realize that I am probably no more or less effective than any other internet stranger in saying this to you, much less someone who really knows your life.

But I promise you—and if you know me at all, you know I don’t mess around with promises—it is not worth it.

Not for the jag weeds making you miserable right now, whether at school or elsewhere in your life. Not for the Southern oppressive education system that’s teaching you inaccurate (if any) information about racism, misogyny, queer people and hell knows what else. Not for the classes you don’t understand, the grades or scholarships you do or don’t get, or the fear that courses from the pit of your stomach to your fingertips 75% of the time about everything you’re facing.

Literally, none of it makes it worth it to opt out of this life.

And no, it’s not because the sky is pretty, or you might have a great career, or those stressful things will completely go away. The sky is pretty, that’s true; you don’t know what your adult life will look like, no matter how the grown folks around you currently feel about it (or how they may project their own fears and/or dreams over yours); and a lot of the stressors probably will at least change. But the color of the sky can’t fix everything. Most if not all of us will still have some bad people in our lives, even if it is less bad people. And we still live in a racist, sexist, queer-phobic, ableist, late-stage capitalist world.

So that’s not why.

I don’t talk about it much, because I hate it when my pain gets twisted into an inspiration-porn-like pity sentiment, e.g. “Your life is SO HARD with that WHEELCHAIR and OPERATIONS and HORRIBLE BRAIN, I can’t IMAGINE how you EVER do ANYTHING with such an AWFUL and PATHETIC existence.” (My new favorite answer to these sorts of wildly inappropriate comments is, “Ma’am, this is a Wendy’s.”) But I’ve had a pretty hard life. A lot of trauma and pain, both medical and personal/emotional. A hard life whose stress has, many times, gotten on top of me, to the point where I felt I didn’t know how to withstand it anymore—and no amount of contemplating either nature’s beauty, leaving toxicity behind, or a possible illustrious future career was enough to alleviate the pain.

But the reason, kids, why you shouldn’t kill yourself in high school, no matter how bad you’re hurting or how hopeless things feel—why you should instead get through it however you can besides acting on that thought—is because you never know when you are going to meet people who will make magic come back into your world.

We should all learn to love ourselves. The therapists are right about that. We should love us for us—not just for what we can give back, what we can contribute or produce, or how we can be “useful” to others. But humans are social creatures. We evolved to exist amidst communities. We grew and changed, and are changing, within nature—and it’s important to both appreciate those connections, and to understand and dismantle the oppressive systems that have been imposed on top of them as much as we can. But in my experience, for us wacky little gremlin guys, the most important part of this human thing is our ties to each other.

Chidi Anagonye/Michael Schur/“The Good Place” got it right: “Why choose to be good every day if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.”

So you keep going. Even if that means for years, you have to go on autopilot. Get through the trauma. Keep your head down, survive, whatever it is.

Because, simply, you never know when you’re gonna find your people. You never know when you’ll meet others who will turn out to be some of the loves of your life. The chaos of our universe—of living as a (mostly) three dimensional being who (mostly) experiences time linearly—is that you’ll never know who’s still out there. You can be observant, look for the signs, and do what you can to build community. But no matter what you do, you can’t predict with any real certainty when the day will come where you’ll look around and realize that instead of feeling hopeless, you are laughing with people who genuinely love and care about you. It’s asinine, for how years of pain can seem to drag themselves out and make a muddy, gross soup of your life. But the turnaround really does happen in a snap, just like that.

One morning, I felt I would be lonely forever, and I struggled to convince myself that all my life’s struggles were worth fighting through—or that my past traumas had been worth soldiering through.

Then, one evening, I sat with loved ones—people I didn’t even know existed six months ago—and instead of ignoring or chastising me… The first thing that happened? Was they asked me about “Dungeons and Dragons.” I didn’t expect them to understand or care, I just loved them anyway; thinking little of my own heart, I have a bad habit of resigning myself to letting it be enough just to be near people I care for, not hoping they will really care for me. But they started our group hang by asking that, and then really listening—even though they don’t understand it. Because they care. About me. They love me.

Just like that, kids. Just like that.

So your mission, friends? Survive. Because I want this for you, too. ❤️

Love,

Your Internet Big Brother.

[oatmealaddiction]

I am so sorry to come careening into your asks like this, but that post you reblogged where OP directly conflates conservatism with nazi germany is driving me insane. it’s like, has it occurred to people that painting a whole community as remorselessly evil perhaps has some drawbacks? maybe that history can also tell us about other times having no empathy for ‘the enemy’ has worked out well for all involved?

like. I get that conservatives have done violence and significant harm to our communities. those things are unforgivable. at the same time you cannot simply write off like half of the US for having bad politics. fight against them, fight against fasc alt right shit, just don’t say there’s something innately wrong with those shitheads that is beyond changing. that’s such eugenics bullshit.

There's a good book called "Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil" by Hannah Arendt. Arendt was a Jewish woman who fled Germany and the book was about the trial of Adolf Eichmann, an SS Officer who oversaw the deportation of many Jewish people to Auschwitz. What Arendt found after studying Eichmann was that at the end of the day, in spite of everything, he was just a normal guy. There was nothing off in his psychology, he wasn't mentally unwell, and by all accounts he was a regular citizen who had 'enthusiastically' upheld the system that the Nazi's put in place. Eichmann harbored zero guilt for any of his actions up until his execution, and argued throughout the trial that he bore no personal responsibility for what he'd done. I don't think it's inaccurate to compare conservatism to fascism these days given how many alt-right members are chomping at the bit to install an authoritarian in office, but if all you're going to say is that Republicans got the "Nazi" gene, you've got a misunderstanding about what makes people evil and how they justify evil to themselves. It's not that conservatives are born without the capacity to feel for others or that because they were born bad they became conservative and because you were born good you became liberal. When evil is systematized by those in power and held up as a status quo, doing depraved evil shit becomes ordinary and normal. For example, plenty of Americans still think it's normal and justifiable to enact the death penalty because it's been systematized as part of our criminal justice system. It's the status quo, so therefore it must be upheld no matter how immoral it is.

Frankly, I'm not going to sit here and try to defend conservative beliefs at a time when the Supreme Court is out here just chipping away at everyone's civil rights and white supremacists are breaking into the capital. I don't particularly feel bad writing off the people who continue to vote for and empower fascists. How do you empathize with someone who thinks you're a child predator or that you shouldn't have bodily autonomy? How do you keep your heart open to people advocating that teachers be shot for using someone's correct pronouns? Personally I think galvanizing more liberals into using their vote strategically and engaging in political action will have faster positive action than trying to win over the group who's dictated by bigotry. That said, it's important to understand that these views have been baked into America before the Pilgrims even got here. These ideas didn't pop up over night because an evil person invented them, they've been present for thousands and thousands of years. The conservative party acts the way they do because transphobia and misogyny and racism are normal aspects of American culture that have been systematized into our government and our society, Conservatives believe that because those things are normal, therefore they are just. So I take issue with the idea that there's something inherent in their brains or psychology that turned them evil, and that liberals are immune to this problem. Liberals will uphold the status quo too, albeit with different lingo. Plenty of liberals engage in True Crime podcasts where they celebrate when the police infringe on civil liberties in order to catch a serial killer. "No ethical consumption under capitalism" is often used as a blanket excuse to ignore unfair labor practices. The Queer community loves to accuse it's own of toxicity and predation just as much as the conservatives do. During the Heard v. Depp defamation trial, tons of liberals rejoiced at the way the legal system was used to silence a DV survivor and were happy to support suing a woman for talking about abuse. A lot of the time the people saying things like this, do not think of themselves as doing anything wrong. Evil is boring, and it's normal, and oftentimes those who act immorally do so without a single ping of their conscious. Thinking that conservatives were born with abusive personalities is the exact thinking people had about Nazi's in the wake of World War II. Americans assumed that there was something fundamentally sick and broken in the Nazi psychology, when in actuality it wasn't that different from the institutionalized segregation and systematized eugenics America itself had going on at the time. Being a Nazi was super normal in Nazi Germany just like being a racist was super normal in America. If you tell yourself that there's something fundamentally abnormal and inhuman in the actions of your enemies, you miss the wider picture of the systems they're part of. Worse, you're telling yourself that you could never be like that, that you could never do what they did, rather than examine the ways you're already complicit in abusive systems. Bigotry and abuse and apathy towards injustice are all human traits, and buddy we're all human.

tl,dr: Conservative politics aren't evil people politics, they're ubiquitous and we probably all hold them to some extent. So do your due diligence.

[dreamingsushi]

Dance of the Phœnix - Episode 17

It has been a while since I started this drama, back when I was still subbing dramas and somehow I stopped watching even though I really enjoyed this show back then. I was still curious about this series and the ending, and doing some cleaning of this blog made me think about it again. I totally forgot everything about the story or almost, so I just finished binge watching the first 16 episodes. Now, I see a lot of inconsistencies in the story, it is definitely not as great as remember, however I am still very much in love with the soundtrack and the costumes. One might argue that they aren't very accurate, but I love the simplicity and the details: scarce but pretty enough to stand out discreetly. Totally my style.

Anyways, as a quick reminder, Feng Wu was a very talented cultivator until her phœnix blood was stolen by another fellow swordswoman, Zuo Qingluan. Since then she lost her past memories and attempts to gain back her energy to start cultivating again. As such, she meets her childhood sweetheart Jun Linyuan, with whom she falls in love really quickly, and his opponent of always Yu Mingye. As she recovers her spiritual energy, she embarks on a quest to revive her sleeping master, the notorious Mu Jiuzhou. This tasks brings her to become a student at the Junwu Academy. That's the storyline so far. I don't remember all the terms for translation, so it might differ than in previous posts, so for that, I apologize. I also noted, reading back, that some of my recaps are inaccurate at moment, hence the following disclaimer: I write my recaps as I watch the shows, so sometimes I miss part of the action or might have misinterpreted some events because I was focused on a previous part. I hope they are helpful to anyone watching, but please refer to your own understanding as required. Thank you and let's now embark on this journey, because I have lots of questions and I need answers.

Jun Linyuan, Feng Wu, Zhao Ge, Xuan Yi and Feng Xun all get into the Junwu Academy together and this is day one as a student. There is a commotion right at the entrance, which is Feng Wu asking Mu Yao to call her Daddy since she passed the examination for the Academy. See that's one of the things that doesn't really make sense. Feng Wu knows a lot of stuff about modern day that she shouldn't know in the context of this drama and so far there are NO explanations. It has been said that she is not the real Feng Wu, but that doesn't say a lot. Zuo Qingluan tries to talk Mu Yao out of this, but Feng Wu won't stand back. Jun Linyuan and Yu Mingye both take Feng Wu's side, so Mu Yao doesn't have a choice to. Nobody understands what Daddy means. It sounds weird in English, but makes sense in Chinese. It's like... Daddy never existed, but only Father.

First class, Feng Wu sleeps through it. She thinks Jun Linyuan takes her away to review everything she slept through. However he wanted to give her the Jade vase as he promised her. She runs away to bring it to the Colorful bird. It breaks it and they obtain the first broken piece to awaken Mu Jiuzhou.

Feng Xun and Xuan Yi are having lunch together. Zhao Ge brings some baozi she made herself for Xuan Yi. Pressed a little by Feng Xun, he takes one, but before he can take one bite, Feng Xun grabs the second one and eats it thinking Feng Wu cooked it. However, after one bite, he spits it out right away, because it is too salty. Zhao Ge says she made it herself and that she will take it away if it's bad. She runs before Xuan Yi can grab a bite and he scolds Feng Xun. Feng Wu finds Zhao Ge feeeling down and she grabs the baozi. She says that it was for Xuan Yi and Feng Wu says he's bad for not wanting it. Zhao Ge compares him with Jun Linyuan who also isn't really good at showing his feelings. Talking about him, he just comes to bring her lunch and Zhao Ge leaves the two of them alone. Feng Wu promises to study seriously so she can fight alongside with Jun Linyuan.

Mu Yao is still very upset about what happened. She still roots for Zuo Qingluan as Jun Linyuan's partner.

The Master of the dark court realized that someone is trying to revive Mu Jiuzhou. This is going against his plans. Yu Mingye is tasked with enquiring about it. For now the only one they can think of might be Wu Youdao, since his style is quite similar to Mu Jiuzhou.

Feng Wu gets scolded in class for sleeping and someone framed her for taking the teacher's ruler, I'm too lazy to check my dictionary, but whatever kind of stick that was. It seems it was the ladies from Biluo Palace. She breaks Mu Yao's desk and is kicked out of class. She is not allowed to come back again until she melts a block of ice and makes tea out of it.

Meanwhile, Yu Mingye is going about with his mission, spying on Wu Youdao. As a special entry student from the Dark Night court, he can attend classes as he wishes. However he is quickly noticed by the old man. He advises him, without uncovering him, not to meddle in his business. Then he bumps into Zuo Qingluan. He tells her to mind her own business. She warns him that if she can't stop him, Jun Linyuan will. And she tells him that if he does anything to harm any of her disciple sisters, she won't leave him alone. Yu Mingye upsets her. She then threatens him saying that Feng Wu is his weakness and he leaves asking if she doesn't have any.

Zhao Ge made some cakes with Feng Wu for Xuan Yi. Feng Xun this time won't eat. It isn't really tasty, but he manages not to let know Zhao Ge and hurries back to class so he won't have to eat anymore. This time around, Feng Xun helped a bit, instead of hurting the lady's feeling.

Jun Linyuan is called back home. The empress/queen asks about his betrothal and he says he already has his plans for that. She pretends to be sad that he thinks her not competent enough to make a selection for him. His dad says she should take care of it since everything she did up till now was done properly. Jun Linyuan begs on his knees not to which angers the emperor/king. His son should do as his parents tell him too. The empress pretends to side with Jun Linyuan. He is punished for being rebellious. He is sent to a place filled with lightning to kneel for a long time.

As I end watching this episode, I realize I might have already watched it and wrote the recap in my notebook back then. At first I thought everything was so familiar because I was subbing this project, but Youtube tells me I already watched both episode 18 and 19. Crazy thing. Anyways, I probably now have a better insight of the story, even though I should probably watch with English subtitles since I haven't been practicing my Chinese much the past few years. I am a little proud though to rely on translations. None of my questions were answered, but that has to be it for today, because I'm tired and I still have so much to do left before tonight. See you next time!

[starfishinthedistance]

I know you're not, like, a therapist, but may I have cptsd if I don't avoid thoughts of my abuse & things that remind me of it? I think about it every day, at all times. Not about what happened exactly, physically speaking (i try to not think about that because then I wouldn't be a functional person) but that it happened, and I rewatch videos on internet of the location it happened sometimes, though i don't know why, considering it makes me feel bad (and so does having to go across the place while on the way to other places). I think about it every day while in class (and it's making me regret my choice of profession, because when I'm in class everything reminds me about it), then while going to home, and then at home sometimes too. Is this a symptom of some sort? It's probably not avoidance. The abuse stopped happening 3ish years ago, but before then it happened pretty since i was seven (i am now twenty), so I am not sure what a normal person's thoughts are like. It also doesn't affect my sleep because I have nightmares about it only once a year.

Sorry if this is incoherent. My english is flawed + I'm bad at this stuff and putting my thoughts in a short manner.

Hey, I'll try my best :)

I think you saying "not about what happened exactly, phsycially speaking (i try not to think about that because then I wouldn't be a functional person)" is a very clear sign that you experience avoidance of trauma related thoughts. But also the avoidance doesn't necessarily mean you never ever think about it ever, because other symptoms in the criteria specifically refer to thinking about the trauma (intrusive memories, blame of others or self for causing the trauma, etc). You saying that there are certain trauma related thoughts you avoid thinking about means you tick the avoidance box. You don't need to avoid every trauma thought ever for it to count :)

Saying that watching videos of the location makes you feel bad is another symptom (emotional distress in response to traumatic reminders), and saying that you regret your professional choice because of you being reminded of your trauma is very consistant with PTSD/C-PTSD, both the intrusion symptoms and the avoidance symptoms.

Also, having nightmares at all, no matter how infrequently, ticks the nightmare box and counts. The other symptom of sleep distrubance outside of nightmares is not required for a diagnosis.

So obviously I don't know you and I'm not your doctor, but judging by what you've said here you seem to tick the boxes for intrusion (nightmares, emotional distress, unwanted upsetting memories) and avoidance (of thoughts or feelings, and you have the desire to avoid outside reminders). We didn't talk about Criterion D or E so obviously whether you fit them is up to you, but so for what you described is very consistent with PTSD/C-PTSD.

Also keep in mind that the DSM criteria for PTSD isn't the end all be all of trauma symptoms. I referred to it in the original post because

1) it's useful to know what criteria will be used to evaluate you if you do seek a professional diagnosis

2) the criteria does cover a lot more symptoms accurately (unlike the ICD criteria in my opinion), and I was using it to illustrate my point of people reasons for why they don't having PTSD literally being part of the criteria.

But the DSM isn't a perfect resource, it's a good one, but not a perfect one, and it was written by people who probably didn't even have these disorder themselves, and they were focusing more on insurance and logistics stuff for the practioners and less on actually helping the clients. There are many changes that have been made to the DSM because it was inaccurate, and many more than have been suggested by clients and clinicians alike, including ones relating to PTSD.

Even if you don't fit the criteria, it doesn't mean your trauma or struggles don't count or that you can't get or don't deserve help. Many people (including me) would even argue that it doesn't mean that you don't have PTSD. It just means your manifestation of post-traumatic stress does not look like what the American Psychiatric Association thinks it should look like. You're absolutely still traumatized and deserving of help and healing.

Hope that helps, have a wonderful day :)

[wurmeatworld]

I apologize for assuming your experiences. If I am understanding correctly, you are upset because you feel as though OP is saying your experiences are fundamentally different when, in fact they are quite similar despite being diagnosed at different times? Correct me if Im wrong. Regardless, looking at OPs original post, and my own reply, I believe you have missed the point (though in my case, I suppose that can be excused since you didnt bother to read it, right?).

It doesnt matter how similar your personal experiences are to OPs. Even if your own personal experiences are similar to OPs, there are many, many other autistics whos experiences are different. I will repeat myself, because you didnt read it:

"Our ability to mask dictates how people treat us. The less we can fit in, the worse we are treated. Its not a matter of jealousy or infighting or oppression olympics. It is a simple fact about being a part of any minority group. It's insane to me that you think this is a white discussion because the same basic principles have been discussed in regards to racism, homophobia, transphobia, you name it. Just google colorism, for example."

"I would also like to note that oppression is not a sliding scale of more oppressed or less oppressed. There are a lot of factors that play into how we are treated, and while the severity of our oppression isnt equal, to just measure based on that is foolhardy because it is a huge spectrum with tons of unique situations. You seem to have at least some grasp on that, since you brought up how autistic people of colors experiences and the experiences of autistic ppl of different genders can be different. These are often large factors in how an autistic person is ultimately treated, but that doesn't mean other factors like a childs ability to conform dont factor in."

I am not arguing that All Autistics Who Can Mask are inherently different from those who cant and Will Never Understand. Im arguing that whether you can mask is one factor that determines how you are treated, and the experiences of autistic ppl who cant mask deserve the space to be discussed on their own without people jumping on the discussion to say theyre being ableist for not talking about other situations that can lead to a similar experience.

"I do not see anywhere in this post where OP said late diagnosed, masking autistics are less autistic or less disabled. Those are words you typed out and added to the post. If you think that I or OP saying autistic people who cant mask are treated worse than those who can is the same as saying they are more autistic or more disabled, you need to learn better reading comprehension and check yourself. There is nuance to this discussion that you do not seem to be getting. Please try to consider this in good faith and learn."

And finally, and this is important that you actually read:

"On one last note, I am deeply uncomfortable by how you brought up gender in this post. First of all, there was no need to say "females" when you meant to say people brought up as female. Second of all, yes, it is true that autistic diagnostic criteria is built upon white autistic cis boys, and that autistic poc and autistic women are often not diagnosed because of this. But to lump every autistic child into either afabs or amabs is transphobic, inaccurate, and erases the experiences of trans and gnc children. If you can recognize that theres intersectionality between gender, race, and neurodivergency you can recognize that theres intersectionality when a child is trans too. To reduce an autistic child to either "seen as male" or "seen as female" is gross, biologically deterministic, and literal terf rhetoric. You should be ashamed of yourself."

there is a bad toxic part of me that feels petulantly bitterly resentful of certain kinds of autism advocacy online. like, "it's okay if you're late diagnosed, it's okay if you've learned how to mask your traits, you still deserve support :3" stuff. i know it's my problem, because i know many people are genuinely hurting & need to be told this, but i feel like i'm being left out and i just want to bark and growl. i was diagnosed at age 5, i can't mask away the strange offputting parts of my speech patterns and body language, i can barely take care of myself. this is why i snap whenever my neurodiversity posts get noticed by "former gifted kid" type autists, because while you were having unfair expectations placed on you by doting teachers who were proud of your academic accomplishments i was being talked around and talked down to by people who didn't think i could understand them.

i don't actually know what i would want done in order to make me feel more included. im just snapping uselessly at people with different problems than me, it's an issue with me, and i should probably stop.

[shamelesslymkp]

I posted 5,484 times in 2021

1495 posts created (27%)

3989 posts reblogged (73%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.7 posts.

I added 6,707 tags in 2021

#queue me up scotty - 1752 posts

#schrödinger's content warnings - 1143 posts

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#via:pinboard - 1142 posts

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#fic recs: supernatural - 149 posts

#ain't no other mkp - 125 posts

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Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and reading the author's words about how upsetting and close to home this may be for readers and they understand if people can't keep readin

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

y’all i’m fucking dying here

on the one level, this is just. incredibly hot and sweet and oops they accidentally kink. (psst @gentledomcas if you have not seen this one yet um please do not run but do walk swiftly towards the ao3, I feel you will not regret it)

on the other level, this is the most olympic level of intricate rituals i have ever seen, holy shit

“Cool,” he says, even though ‘cool’ is the last word he would use to describe the way he feels right now. This is the least cool he thinks he’s ever felt in his life. He can’t believe he’s going to have sex with his best friend for a damn case.

But it doesn’t mean anything, right? And it certainly doesn’t make him gay. No, this is to  help out some poor gay porn stars who have landed themselves in psych wards because of some sort of bigoted spirit. Dean’s just helping them out, and if he has to get his hands dirty in a way that’s a little different than usual, well, he’s man enough to do it.

DEAN: I can’t believe I’m going to have sex with that angel, record it, and upload it to the internet.

LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE: well, you don’t have to --

DEAN: No, I’m gonna.

10 notes • Posted 2021-07-27 14:59:53 GMT

#4

Hey, I posted the plagiarism thing. We think that the Revenge series might be plagiarized from a destiel fic by apokteino called With Understanding, but the challenge is, the original is deleted - apokteino removed their account last winter. If I got you the PDF do you think you could check? (I'd dm but your box is closed to people not following you, sorry. You should be able to message me?)

for sure! let me see if i have an archived copy, too, although it doesn't sound familiar

ETA: no, I don’t have a copy archived. but if someone gets me a copy to read, I can for sure check it out!

13 notes • Posted 2021-08-04 22:47:24 GMT

#3

...it is so fucking weird reading fic about ‘lifestyle’ kinksters written by people completely outside of the scene, because it’s not exactly that they’re getting it wrong, I’m sure some people do in fact manage their kink relationships in such a way, but they write it like it’s standard and I’m just like... have you ever... talked to someone actually in the scene? or just read fantasies on fetlife.

like, I’m not judging, exactly - it’s like the fanon standard version of bdsm clubs, which are clearly based more on other fan representations of bdsm clubs than anything else, and have a lot of inspiration from (probably) porn and the old leather traditions, it’s certainly a subset of kink culture, it’s just. really fucking weird when people write it as the standard.

I suppose other people might find it weird when I write lifestyle kinkster fics based on the contemporary DC scene, though, so.

I am pretty excited about the fact that I’m finally seeing kinkster fics written by people who clearly do have experience in the scene, I knew they had to be somewhere.

14 notes • Posted 2021-03-09 23:11:45 GMT

#2

WAIT WHAT THE FUCK @rthstewart​ WHEN DID APOSTOLIC WAY GET FINISHED HOLY SHIT I THOUGHT IT WAS STILL A WIP HOW DID I MISS THIS IT WAS FINISHED IN 2013??????????????????????????????

17 notes • Posted 2021-03-28 12:50:29 GMT

#1

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WARNING THE FIRST: This blog is sometimes NSFW and occasionally contains images, videos, and writing of the pornographic variety (more specifically of the kinky variety). Blacklist the words "NSFW" and "KINK" to only see the vanilla geeky gleefulness. I also recommend blacklisting either my "i eat fic for breakfast" or "via:pinboard" tags due to the automated feed of fics I've recently bookmarked on pinboard, which include a copy of the original author's AO3 tags in the content of the text post. Please note that if you are using Tumblr's native blacklist function, you must blacklist the specific tags "nsfw for kate's bls" and "kink for kate's bls" to ensure the posts are filtered. Update, July 2019: While I do comply with Tumblr's ban on adult-only (visual) content, I do reblog and/or post explicit and/or kink-related content (particularly resources) from time-to-time. This means that this is still an ADULTS-ONLY blog! If you are under 18 (or whatever the legal age is in your country), Stop. Do not pass go. Unfollow my blog. Do not look at my archive. Do not like or reblog explicit or kinky materials I have posted or reblogged. Come back when you’re older. This is mainly an honor system kind of thing, but if I happen to discover a minor following me, I will a) ask you to unfollow immediately and b) block you if necessary. WARNING THE SECOND: Unfortunately, due to a frequent lack of spoons and an increasing reliance on phoneblogging, I no longer can commit to regularly tagging content on this blog. I still try to tag for (at the very least) NSFW and kinky content, and for common triggers such as sucidal ideation, talk about self-harm, etc., but I cannot commit to it. I sometimes manage to tag posts about politics or discourse, but not always. Please protect yourself and follow with caution.

17 notes • Posted 2021-04-18 17:23:16 GMT

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[sakusamusimp]

Serpents and Dragons: Prologue

Sweet Pea x Reader

Summary: After her father’s psychotic break, Y/N and her family moved to Seoul from Riverdale. After joining a mafia group, she and her family wind up back in Riverdale. Nothing could prepare her for the wonderful things she would experience there, nor the horrific events that would change her life forever.

Content Warnings: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence and/or injury, gang/ mafia activity, cursing, occultism, toxic family, bullying, harassment, inaccurate depictions of mafia lifestyle and medical information. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYTHING YOU READ! Reminder: I am not responsible for your triggers and cannot cater to everyone who reads my works.

Word Count: 1.4k

Author’s Note: Hello! This is my first piece of writing on this account so I hope you all enjoy it. I have not proofread this chapter, so please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes. This is going to be a multi-part series and it will follow an adapted version of the Riverdale timeline. Feel free to like, comment, and reblog this post! Thank you and enjoy!!!

In the town of Riverdale it was rare for a newcomer to show up and even rarer for an old resident to return, but that’s exactly what happened the summer before sophomore year. Y/N Kim was born and raised in Riverdale, until her father had a psychotic break, which led to her older sister and mother taking her away to live in Seoul, South Korea. She wasn’t aware of her family’s affiliation with an international crime syndicate, known as NCT, until she turned 12. Her older sister had joined the mafia 4 years earlier, when she was only 15 and in love with none other than Jung Jaehyun, a member of NCT by blood.

 Their father had been an NCT member since he got out of high school and dragged their mother into it with him. That’s when the Kim family became NCT members by blood. Even though they had their blood relation to NCT, they weren’t forced to become active members. They were entitled to NCT’s protection with or without the logo tattooed on their bodies. Lana joined NCT of her own volition, much to the dismay of her mother, who feared she would end up just like the man she had once loved. Y/N, on the other hand, wasn’t aware of her family’s lifestyle until her mother sat down with her and had a long talk, knowing full well she couldn’t keep from her forever. After the shock and rage subsided, Y/N talked with her older sister, who explained in more detail exactly what being an NCT member entailed. On her 12th birthday, she decided that she wanted to become a full-fledged member of NCT. That’s when three long years of gruesome training began.

 It started with basic hand-to-hand combat, then escalated into weapons training with both guns and knives. After that, it was the psychological training, in order to ensure that she was mentally capable of protecting NCT’s secrets and withstanding interrogation. Once she passed her mental evaluations, they moved her onto basic first aid training and then negotiation lessons. Soon, she became one of the best soldiers NCT had to offer. She’s still one of the most respected and feared NCT soldiers, gaining almost as much respect as the caporegimes.

 This leads us back to six months ago, when Mrs. Kim passed away. It wasn’t a sudden death. In fact, both of the sisters had seen it coming from a mile away, but it still took quite the toll on them. After weeks of grieving, the sisters finally composed themselves enough to return to work. In the higher ranks of NCT, discussions were being held regarding the branches of NCT. The Riverdale branch had been dormant since the capos who resided there before left, and now all the NCT members who lived there had either hidden as normal citizens or temporarily joined smaller gangs, like the Southside Serpents and Ghoulies. 

“I’m just saying. It would be in our best interest to start running the Riverdale branch again.” Johnny, a caporegime and the consigliere, argued.

 “Johnny’s right, TY. While the Riverdale branch has been dormant, we’ve lost almost half of the members that were there to other gangs and lost about $20 million in income per month.” It was rare to see Doyoung, yet another capo, agree with Johnny.

 Virtually all the other caporegimes in the room agreed with Johnny’s argument, all except for Taeil, the eldest capo and underboss. “Riverdale has nothing to offer us anymore. All the drug and weapons deals have been taken over by other organizations and there’s nobody of importance for protective services. Besides, it’s such a small town, it would benefit us more to start up a branch in the big city.” 

Taeil and Johnny had been going back and forth on the matter since the meeting started almost two hours prior, which thoroughly annoyed Taeyong. “Majority is in agreement that we should restart the Riverdale branch, so I’ve decided that we will do just that. Jaehyun and Lana pack your things, you’ll be the branch boss and underboss, respectively. Capos Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, and Chenle will also be accompanying you in case of another incident like three years ago. We’ll also send a few extra soldiers to add onto the ones dormant in Riverdale. And obviously, Y/N will also be accompanying you.” Taeyong finished, waiting for confirmation from the new branch leaders and then ending the meeting.

 Once they had been dismissed, Jaehyun and Lana left the room and headed back to their shared apartment in NCT’s complex. “So, how do you think Y/N will feel about moving back to Riverdale?” Jaehyun asked.

 “ I don’t know, Jae. I guess it really depends on if her old friends are still there, but I don’t know how much our father’s… incident affected her.” Lana responded earnestly. It was true, Y/N had changed a lot since her father’s breakdown. She wasn’t as in tune with her emotions anymore and used the mafia lifestyle as an escape. Maybe having those old friends back will help her to regain some sort of emotional sentience, but nothing can be assured. 

Opening the door to their home, Lana and Jaehyun were greeted by Y/N sitting at the kitchen bar on her computer, likely typing out an essay for her literature class. “Y/N, we have some important things to discuss.” Lana said, carefully as if her little sister would scurry like a mouse if she were too blunt. 

Y/N closed her computer, saving the document she had been working on. She looked between her sister and brother-in-law, eyes guarded and suspecting. “What’s up? I don’t like how cautious you’re being right now.”

 Lana took a deep breath. Y/N had always been absorbed in her schoolwork, busting her ass to keep up her 4.0 GPA by constantly studying and working to improve her education. “As much as you love the school that you’re going to now, soon, we have to move…back to Riverdale-” 

Y/N quickly stood to her feet, eyes wide. “What?!” She exclaimed, nearly knocking over her chair with her sudden movements. “Back to Riverdale? Seriously?!”

 Lana, assuming her sister was upset, gently tried to calm her down. “I know you may not want to go back because of what happened, but this is for official NCT business.” 

Y/N quickly shook her head back and forth, “No, no, no. I’m happy about this.” The confusion written on Lana and Jaehyun’s faces would have been comical in any other situation, but the need for an explanation trumped any humor there was. “I can see Archie and Betty and Juggie again. All of my childhood friends, I’ll be able to see them again.” A sigh of relief left both Jaehyun and Lana, who were genuinely terrified that Y/N would be upset.

 “We’re leaving once this semester of your schooling ends. Monday, once office hours are open, we’re gonna start getting your credits transferred with the school and start contacting old NCT members from Riverdale.” Jaehyun explained, turning on the electric kettle he had filled with water. “After that, your sister and I will work on rebuilding the Riverdale branch and you will be enjoying your summer and rekindling old friendships, I hope.” He smiled, setting two cups of tea in front of the sisters. Small thanks were heard from both before slow sips.

 Lana stood from her seat, grabbing the cup of tea and heading towards her bedroom. “Since there’s only a couple weeks left before school ends, I would suggest packing up most of your things, especially your small things, beforehand so we can save time. While Jae is taking care of your school stuff and relations, I’ll be here all day packing up the apartment.” She nodded off before disappearing into her bedroom.

 Jaehyun, now with his own tea, whispered to Y/N before leaving into the same room. “Make sure to go easy on her the next few weeks. Taeil’s still making a fuss about the Riverdale branch and I can guarantee he’ll be harassing her about it until the profits start showing up.” 

Y/N nodded in agreement before reopening her laptop. “Got it.” 

The next few weeks were spent with constant phone calls, a lot of packing tape, and several moving men taking things to either be put into storage, sold, or sent to their new home in Riverdale. After a long 18 hour flight and 4 hour drive, the black SUV with tinted windows finally passed by the nostalgic sign. “Riverdale: The Town with PEP!”

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now…   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

[fagsystem]

I feel as though we are having two entirely different conversations here.

I am autistic and the manner in which I speak often times leads to my tone being misunderstood. I just wish to preface by directing you to the points where I stated, "I am not mad." I did not find you malicious nor did I intend to paint you as malicious. And I am going to say very clearly that I am still not mad. I am just trying to clear up curtain.

It is simply a frustrating thing that I wanted to speak about, as it is something I see often. I wanted to create an educational opportunity about the topic, since it is never done with any ill-intent. I am going to now hopefully clarify what I was trying to say. I wish to once again say this is not anger. I am not angry.

My overall point was just, "1) It is not only inaccurate to claim that Luigi cannot have bad knees because he does not match your perception of people with disabilities/chronic pain, but also quite harmful to real disabled people who are impacted by those perceptions and assumptions. (I have personal experiences with those exact assumptions harming me, for the record, so it hit very close to home.) 2) Arguing against theories and headcanons about characters being disabled/having chronic pain is really frustrating to see as a disabled person. It is the same as arguing against theories and headcanons for other minority groups, but people do not treat disabled headcanons/theories with the same respect."

I also want to clarify that the post I linked in this reblog was directed at that person and not you. I am confused by your response as to whether it is responding to this thread or that post or both. I had not read this post then, I was just responding to what they had said since they had some misunderstandings about disability. And the reblog here was both directed at you and OP.

I am struggling a bit to understand what your post means, so I am just going to go paragraph by paragraph responding to ensure I clear everything up.

Paragraph one and two:

I believe were related to things I said in the post I linked. If I have missed something I am sorry. If it was the other post, it was genuinely just not about you, it was about what they had said. I had not read this at the time of responding. I was educating them. I linked it here because you were coming from a place with a lot of the same misconceptions that they had. Misconceptions which have harmed me personally in real life as a disabled person, hence why I am trying to educate you.

Paragraph three and four:

I did say above but I will say again that I did not believe that you were being malicious. I did not intend to paint you as malicious, and I am very sorry if I did. If you point it out to me where I can edit it to fix my wording.

The reason I was responding to you to educate you is because, as I said, you seem to have a lot of misconceptions that I know from personal reference can harm disabled people in real life. I do not expect anyone to know things they have not been taught, I am not mad about it, I am just trying to create space for education on the topic.

The other reason is because I am so tired and upset seeing people arguing against disabled headcanons/theories/coding. Yes, even though it was not meant to be disabled coding, Luigi explicitly stating he has bad knees is disabled coding. If it was about other minorities and coding for them, you probably wouldn't argue against it even if you disagreed. Because it's disrespectful and sucks for people in the minority to see. And especially in this case where the reasoning for why he is not able to have bad knees is coming from a misconception that I experience ableism over, it really sucked to see.

Paragraph 5 and 6:

I will apologise for my lack of clarity in this response starting from 'also'. I should have been clearer that another part of why I was responding to this was because, as far as I am aware, I was the first person to point out/popularise the headcanon that Luigi has bad knees/is disabled. I should also have been clearer that it is not just about that one post I made, but the shooting down of disabled headcanons.

I am uncertain if you meant original poster of this thread or the other post. If it was the other post, it was genuinely just not about you, it was about what they had said. I had not read this at the time of responding. I was educating them.

If it is about this, I have no idea where it appears I made the assumption the original poster was disabled. I do not disbelieve that I may have accidentally implied such a thing, as when I try to educate others I do my best not to assume they are not a part of the minority I am educating about. That lack of assumption also extends to you as well.

The reason I do not make those assumptions is because people within a minority group are capable of doing things that potentially harm others in said minority group.

Also, I once again want to say I was not trying to pain you as a bad person trying to influence OP. The reason I chose the most up-to-date version, including OP agreeing with you, is because this reblog was also responding to them. They did agree with you, after all.

Paragraph 7 and 8:

I once again wish to make clear I was not and am not trying to pain you as rude or villainous. I am just a member of a minority trying to educate about something that harms me.

Paragraph 9 and 10:

These two paragraphs I will say genuinely really upset me, because you did not pick up a word of what I said about the vastness of experience that exists in disability.

I just genuinely wish to redirect you to the post I linked initally. I ask you to read it again knowing it is not attacking you or what you have said and look at what I was saying there.

The reason this makes me so upset and honestly quite mad is because this is not just fictional characters we are talking about. It the real experiences of real people who have bad knees. Me being one of them.

I am genuinely too upset to respond to this but properly. But no, I was not saying it was a bad thing that Mario handed Luigi his toolbox. The fact that you think I was shows you did not listen to me. I spoke about the real experiences of real people I know personally and my own experiences to explain why Luigi carrying a tool box does not inherently mean he does not have bad knees nor would it necessarily make bad knees hurt that much.

As someone with bad knees, I would be about as fine doing what Luigi did carrying a heavy toolbox versus not carrying it.

Seriously, stop arguing with me over me finding myself and my own experiences represented on the screen. This is what my entire point was about, people do not give disabled headcanons any respect. It seriously hurts to see. You do not have to agree with me, I am not saying you do, just be respectful.

-

And I want to apologize for this reblog getting so long. I just wanted to clarify all of this. My TLDR is just what I bolded above.

"It is not only inaccurate to claim that Luigi cannot have bad knees because he does not match your perception of people with disabilities/chronic pain, but also quite harmful to real disabled people who are impacted by those perceptions and assumptions. (I have personal experiences with those exact assumptions harming me, for the record, so it hit very close to home.) 2) Arguing against theories and headcanons about characters being disabled/having chronic pain is really frustrating to see as a disabled person. It is the same as arguing against theories and headcanons for other minority groups, but people do not treat disabled headcanons/theories with the same respect."

Consider the facts:

Luigi, in the Mario Movie, has expressed that he has “bad knees,” which explains why he’s not as physically adept as his brother and has trouble keeping up with him.

But in the Mario games Luigi often has a higher jump, and is even able to run in mid air for a short period of time. Odd that they would give the Mario Brother who has those sorts of abilities knee problems, right?

Yoshis also have a higher jump than Mario, and are able to run in mid air for a short period of time using an ability called “flutter jump” (though this ability goes by many names depending on the game.)

Yoshi is practically confirmed to be in the sequel, and it can be assumed from the post-credits sequence that he is going to be a lost, newly hatched child rather than an old friend that rescued Mario and Luigi as babies.

This version of Yoshi’s origin story bears a lot of similarity to the old Super Mario Brothers cartoon, in which Luigi becomes a mother figure to Yoshi after finding him abandoned at the bottom of a pit. 

What if in the next movie, Luigi is struggling to keep up with his brother due to his ongoing physical issues. Meanwhile, he adopts this strange little dino creature that he found lost in Brooklyn, taking him in and raising him until he can be safely released into the wild. As a result, The Yoshis consider Luigi part of the pack, and bestow upon him their jumping/hovering abilities through some form of mystical blessing or permanent powerup.

 Thoughts?

[todomitoukei]

Japanese vs. English Dabi - A 292 Comparison

As other people have already pointed it, the official translation is sometimes a little biased to the point of adding things into the text that aren’t in the original Japanese version or changing phrases to the point where the villains come off colder than they actually are.

The current chapters are highly important to Dabi’s and Shouto’s characters and so the official translation, unfortunately, can lead to people getting the wrong image of Dabi. This is not to say that Dabi is actually a super friendly guy - however, I don’t think you can get a full picture of all the layers to his character without taking the original text in mind.

Since there are a few panels I’m going to talk about from this chapter - comparing the Japanese version with the official translation and also dissecting and explaining the original Japanese phrases - I’m going to put the rest of this post under the cut because it’s a bit lengthy otherwise.

Let’s start with these panels. Though these aren’t mistranslated per se, just like with the “dance with your son in hell” line from the previous chapter, the furigana next to the kanji have a different meaning here. As discussed before, whenever this is the case, the furigana are what the character says, and the kanji represent what the character actually means.

The line in the second panel is: 「轟家の過去が消えるわけじゃねえだろ。」

轟家 「とどろきいえ ; todoroki ie 」-> the Todoroki household

の　「 no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

過去 「かこ  ; kako  」 ->  the past; a past (i.e. a personal history one would prefer remained secret); one’s past

が 「 ga  」 -> particle to mark the subject of the sentence

消える 「きえる  ; kieru  」 -> to vanish; to disappear

わけじゃねえ 「 wakejanee  」 -> It doesn’t mean that

だろ 「 daro  」 ->  right ? (used to ask the person you’re talking to for confirmation)

The two words that have a different furigana reading than they should have, are Todoroki household and past. According to the furigana, Dabi says:

「 うち 」-> house; one’s own home

「 じじつ 」-> truth; reality

So going by the kanji reading you get:

“This doesn’t mean that the past of the Todoroki household just disappears, right?”

Whereas what he actually says is:

“This doesn’t mean the truth of our home just disappears, right?”

In comparison to the “dance with your son in hell” line, these two versions don’t differ as much from another. Caleb actually addresses this in his twitter threat and sort of mixed the two versions into one: “This doesn’t change the hard truths about my family’s past!”

Personally, considering he is directly talking to Shouto here, I find the choice of translating the Todoroki household/home part into “my family” a bit weird. Since he seeks Shouto’s confirmation here, it would make more sense to translate it as “our family” in my opinion. The “my” makes it feel a lot more self-centered, even though there is no indication for him to only be referring to himself here.

Switching the word to vanish with “change” also slightly changes the meaning here. Though both are accurate, I feel like their past disappearing holds more weight. The line is, after all, referring to the fact that Best Jeanist has appeared, despite Dabi earlier announcing that the hero had been killed. So even though Dabi was wrong about that part, it doesn’t make his other facts go away. It’s not just about changing his words, but making it like they were never spoken in the first place. It’s a small difference, but a difference nonetheless.

Finally, the “hard truths” part instead of reality/past. It’s interesting to think about why Dabi says “truth” when he means “past”. But I think one way to look at it is that to Dabi, he has accepted the past. He has lived with it and carried it with him in silence for so long, but was always aware of it. Despite him not having told anyone else about it, he didn’t deny that past to himself. He shows his scars and he fights back. That is who Dabi is as the person that rose from Touya’s ashes. Meanwhile, he says “truth” while talking to Shouto. While we, the readers, and those around Shouto know of his hatred towards Endeavor, Dabi doesn’t know about this. To him, Shouto really is just Endeavor’s little doll. And so in Dabi’s eyes, Shouto has yet to see the truth. To acknowledge their past and the pain they all went through. And though Dabi might not be completely right about Shouto, he isn’t entirely wrong, either. Because even when Shouto hates Endeavor, even when he says he is just going to use him for his own gain, at the end of the day, regardless of his reasons, his actions are still what Endeavor wants him to do - to train hard and want to become the Number One Hero.

I included one the alternative meanings “a personal past one might prefer remained secret” because it also fits well with that interpretation. That the true meaning behind him saying “truth” is not just the mere past, but the part of the past they don’t want to share. Whether that’s because it’s an ugly one that could haunt them for the rest of their lives, or because it’s just difficult to talk about. Either way, it’s more than just memories from when their family was still young. In that, I think “hard truth” is actually a fitting translation, even when it doesn’t have the exact same nuance as the Japanese version.

While Shouto and Dabi are in many ways similar to another, they have slightly different goals: While Dabi wants to kill Endeavor, Shouto wants to save his mom. To both of them that is liberty, just with a different approach.

And the ending of the sentence, where he seeks confirmation from Shouto, sort of indicates just that. He wants Shouto to admit it. Pushing him into a corner and asking a question that only has one right answer. This is also similar to a few chapters ago when Toga confronted Uraraka with the question “Was Jin not a person?” It’s asking something with an obvious answer, yet the people being asked seem to not yet be able to give the right answer, even when they might already know it.

Next of, Shouto confronts Dabi about the villain he sent to their house, who could have killed Natsuo. As you can see in the panel above, the English translation has Dabi say: “Almost killed? What a shame. That would’ve really hurt Endeavor.”

Meanwhile, the Japanese version says: 「それならそれで。エンデヴァーが苦しむ。」

「それならそれで ; sorenara sorede 」 -> even so (expression frustration); still

「 エンデヴァー ; Endebā 」 -> Endeavor

「 が ; ga 」 -> particle to mark the subject of the sentence

「 苦しむ ; kurushimu  」 -> to suffer

As you can see, “Almost killed? What a shame” is kind of very far off from the actual meaning. While the official translation makes it almost sound like Dabi is disappointed and wants Natsuo to be killed, the fan translation has him say: “Then that would mean Endeavor would suffer.” This is a lot closer to the Japanese version and focuses on the more important part: the goal is for Endeavor to suffer. Dabi’s intention isn’t to get anyone else in the family hurt/killed in the process, however, he does have this tunnel vision where everything is about Endeavor and doing whatever to hurt him.

“What a shame” sounds like he is upset Natsuo didn’t actually die. While, as stated above, the first part can show frustration, that frustration more likely refers to the disappointment that Endeavor doesn’t suffer as much as he could.

While both versions translate the second part as Endeavor “would” suffer/be hurt by this, the Japanese uses the present tense for suffering. In a way, Dabi is saying “Well, though he could’ve been more hurt, he suffers.” Maybe he hasn’t been as damaged as could be, but it doesn’t matter, because the fact remains that he does suffer from this, present tense. So Dabi doesn’t recognize this as a loss or “a shame” that Natsuo didn’t die. Instead, he recognizes that Endeavor suffers, even when he isn’t met with the worst-case scenario.

In response to the last panel, Shouto asks whether Dabi is insane (please don’t ask people that) and Dabi’s response in the original translation is “Sure am, Shouto. See, your brother’s not so big on “feelings” anymore.”

A couple of thoughts on this. First, this is a downgrade in comparison to the fan translation of “You got it, Shouto! Your big brother has completely lost any feeling for anything!”

Something the phrasing coupled with Dabi’s wide eyes and big smile make me laugh and this panel now lives rent free in my head. 

Anyway, the Japanese line goes: 「そうだよ焦凍兄ちゃん何も感じなくなっちまった。」

「そうだよ ; soudayo 」 -> that is right

「 焦凍  ; Shouto 」 -> Shouto

「 兄ちゃん ; Nii-Chan 」 -> big bro (in a very endearing way, but can also be used to be demeaning)

「 何も  ; nanimo 」 -> nothing

「 感じ ; kanji 」 -> feeling

「 なく ; naku 」 -> adverbial form of nai; attaches to a verb to mean “without”

「 なっちまった ; nacchimatta 」 -> to have become (unintentionally; regretfully)

The fan translation, in my opinion, is far more accurate, but there is still something missing. 

First of all, I don’t know why the official translation put feelings in quotes as if Dabi didn’t actually say it? mean it? It just feels like an odd choice that I can’t find a good enough justification for.

Second of all, “not so big on ‘feelings’ anymore” and “has completely lost any feeling for anything” is a big difference, and would make sense if the fan translation was inaccurate. But it isn’t. The official translation makes it sound like Dabi more or less chose not to feel anymore or pay attention to his feelings. He could, but he doesn’t want to. You could argue that both sentences still carry the same meaning: Dabi doesn’t feel anymore. "To be big on something” usually refers to having a strong interest in something and prioritizing said interest, which implies that one chooses to prioritize it. While I’m not arguing that some people do choose to ignore their feelings instead of confronting them, in this case, it’s actually the opposite of what he says.

Looking at the actual Japanese sentence, it begins with Dabi confirming Shouto’s words. Yes, I am crazy. There is no denying, nor shame in this. There is almost a bit of pride in that - so little bro actually recognizes that I have gone crazy from this.

Nii-Chan is an interesting choice of words here. The Japanese language is very much based on hierarchy. There are different levels of formality (shown through words, expressions, and verb forms) depending on whom you are speaking to. To summarize: When you are talking to someone who is of higher status (based on job position, age, experience). This also applies to siblings. Since those of higher status can be more direct/less formal with those of lower status, older siblings can address their younger siblings by their given name alone. 

Meanwhile, the younger siblings would use some kind of honorific/suffix. In this case, the “Nii” means older brother. “San” is the standard suffix you would use to address your older siblings (and other people in general). “Chan” is a suffix that you usually use for kids/girls, - where it has a cute, endearing connotation - wherefore it becomes kind of rude when used for older people (as in people who aren’t children anymore). But it can also show endearment - a close bond between the siblings.

So why does Dabi call himself “Nii-Chan”? While you can interpret this as a sarcastic remark to mock their non-existent relationship, I think here Dabi uses it here to humanize himself to Shouto. Kind of like an “I know you see me as a villain right now, but I also am your bro, remember?” He isn’t just this “evil criminal” - rather cute lil Touya is still inside of him. Dabi isn’t just Dabi. He still is Touya, too. So if you fight Dabi and if you call Dabi insane, you also do those things to Touya. Dabi might be the stage of “having completely lost it” but that doesn’t just suddenly happen. It’s a process. While we can say Dabi became Touya on the day Touya “died” yet it’s important to recognize that there was a gradual transition where both Touya and Dabi existed.

Now that we have that part aside, let’s focus on the actual point of that phrase. The part about his feelings.

何も感じなくなっちまった。 Nanimo kanjinaku nacchimatta.

“Nanimo” means nothing and comes with negative verbs that it refers to.

As mentioned before, “kanji” means feeling and is paired with the adverbial form of “nai” - “naku” which negates “kanji” to turn it into not feeling. Pair that with “nanimo” and you get a meaning of “feeling nothing”

Now for the actually interesting part of this phrase (apologies that it took so long) - “nacchimatta”. This word consists of two seperate words: “naru” and “chimatta”. “Naru” means to become and is here merged with “chimatta” which is the colloquial past tense version of “teshimau”. The verb “shimau” expresses that an action (the verb it attaches to) has happened either unintentionally or has yielded regrettable results. So in this case, it is unintentional/regrettable that he has become something.

Putting this together, Dabi says that he has turned into someone who doesn’t feel anything anymore and this was not his intention, nor is it a good thing. To be fair, “shimau” can also mean something happens completely, however this meaning is rarer and while we can say that this is the meaning here, it’s more likely and more interesting to consider the more common meaning.

With that in mind, I want to quickly address the panel next to it, where Shouto asks him whether he has gone insane

In Japanese Shouto says:「イカれてんのかてめェ！」

「イカれて ; ikarete  」 -> (*ika is written in katakana here to emphasize the word since you can’t use italics in Japanese) to be beaten; to be crazy

「 ん  ; n 」 -> ender is used when explaining something; often with emotion*

「 の ; no 」 -> explanatory particle; used at the end of a sentence like a question marker, but you want the listener to answer and give you the reasons why

「 か ; ka 」 -> ender indicating doubt or uncertainty

「 てめェ！; temee! 」 -> you (derogatory) *meme not intended

The reason why these nuances are important to take into account is that when Dabi, in his reply confirms that “Yes, you’re right, unfortunately, I have become unable to feel anything” he is not just confirming the statement, but emphasizing just how tragic this all is.

*[edit because someone pointed this out to me: the ん here is actually more likely to be the casual form of いる (iru) that attaches to the て (te) form of a verb to turn it into the current/ongoing state (= In this case "are you being crazy).]

The official translation simply made Shouto say: “Are you freaking insane?!” which isn’t exactly wrong but misses the nuance of the “nnoka” in the middle of the sentence. While the official translation sounds rather cold and dismissive, the original shows that Shouto cares. There is emotion, and more importantly: there is a desire to hear his reasons. “Why do you think it was okay to put Natsuo in danger?” By the way, the “n” ender that shows emotion when explaining something is also used by Shouto earlier when he says “Remember him? The brother you cried to every day?!” - It’s no surprise that he is emotional right now, still, it’s important to note that he isn’t just showing his emotions through his tone or his expression, but also through his words in order to make it as clear as possible to Dabi how much Dabi’s actions affect the rest of them and hopefully be able to get through to it.

It’s an emotional and tragic conversation that takes place between them, yet the official translation turned it into a much colder, less-caring one.

I know this was a lengthy post with a lot of information, so congrats and thank you if you’ve made it this far. The reason why I decided to make this post was that initially, the “Nii-Chan can’t feel anything anymore” part stuck with me so much and even more so when I dissected it.

Again, other people have pointed out that the official translation is very biased at times, which is not just sad for those of us who care about the villains, but it’s also just not professional. A lot of the panels I talked about in this post aren’t inherently incorrect, they are simply missing nuances that the English language doesn’t provide. Still, I wished that a professional translator would figure out a way to at least slightly incorporate these anyhow (which btw is literally part of the job). Aside from those, it’s just frustrating when the emotions get almost entirely removed from phrases. I get it - Dabi is apathetic, as he says himself. And yet, Dabi is also constantly shown to put extreme care into which words he chooses; this chapter being no exception. So why does such an important conversation between two brothers get changed in ways that make people who don’t bother checking other translations/the Japanese version unable to get the right image of them?

I understand that it’s important to support the official translation and I do. But it’s also very much important to read other versions, too. While the fan translation might have errors and mistranslations in it here and there, it tends to be a bit more literal and thus includes the nuances more than the official translation does. So please don’t just read the official translation and treat it like the only valid one, when it also comes with its flaws and just isn’t a good sole source for when you want to understand the characters.

[parvulous-writings]

Stars //Sith!Obi-Wan x Pregnant!Reader

Request:   Heya! First of all, I just want to say, wow!!! I loved wvry word of the Vader x Reader you did, and reading your notes, I really don't mind it as an AU! I've never really read anything to do with Sith Obi-Wan before, though to be fair I only just got into Star Wars again 😅 This isn't really a request, but from what I can see from your posts, you seem to really like Obi-Wan, well, Ewan Mcgregor in general 😂I wanted to ask if you could write another x Reader, but this time a Sith Obi-Wan AU?Thanks for reading! -Red ❤ p.s, @rey-is-not-a-skywalker, you're welcome for requesting the sith x reader, I guess you're obsessed as I am 😂 p.s the second, I'm loving the new pfp!

Requested by: ​Red

Summary: The reader has some news for Sith Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: The reader is AFAB, pregnancy

Words: 1.7K

Notes: You would be correct in assuming I love Obi-Wan and Ewan McGregor as a whole. Also I’m glad you like the new pfp! I am also in love with it! :)  Did I self indulge with this oneshot? I think you know the answer. Leave me alone, I am too much of a simp at this point.  I have never been pregnant, so some of this may be inaccurate. 

Not my gif

An old Jedi’s fall from grace was a never a pretty sight to see, it was no glorious tale to tell from any side. It was full of hurt, pain, hatred, suffering. This was more than true for the fallen Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. His downfall was the least expected out of those who turned away from the light, he had always been the most loyal of men, the most faithful of soldiers.  Perhaps, in part at least, this was what drove him away from his original allegiance. He was an exceptional leader of course, the most fantastic of generals, but besides that, in the larger picture, to the Jedi Order as a whole he was nothing more than a faceless defender of the galaxy. Just another of the tens of thousands Jedi.  Another factor that led to the man’s path to the dark side, was you. What you made him feel. The passion, the love. An indescribable feeling, all he could say about it was that it was truly wonderful. He did not mind the fear, or the hatred that came with it, for you made it all worth it. The massive highs compared to the lows outweighed them greatly, and thus he gave it all for and to you. His passion, his loyalty, his love. Everything he had, every fiber of his being, he gave it all to you. If he could turn the worlds on theirs heads, and you gave the word, he’d do it. 

You had initially been shocked at the man’s sudden change of life-plans and of loyalty. Though, the more you thought about it, the more you began to convince yourself, perhaps he had made the right choice. He wasn’t so uptight in regards to public affection now- he’d often smother you with kisses in front of company, or hold your arm or hand as you wander about in cities or halls. Despite the Sith being the darker beings of the Force, the life you now lived was almost... Peaceful. After a while, you very much enjoyed it. There weren’t so many rules now, and you both felt free.  Though, not everything about your new life was free or peaceful. There were times that Obi-Wan was pulled away from you much like in the way he was during the times of the Republic and the Jedi Order. He’d be wrenched from your embrace for weeks or months at a time, and the holocom conversations you shared were not the same as actual conversations. The comforting presence you both gave to one another were missing, and it was painfully obvious to the pair of you. 

One particular night, whilst Obi-Wan had been away, you were staring out at the stars- each of them twinkling from their position on the blanket of the night from their positions thousands of light-years away. They fascinated you every night, though you knew some of the planetary systems by name and had visited a few yourself, you couldn’t help but imagine what could be hiding away on them,  what could be awaiting discovery. They also distracted you from something plaguing your mind on this particular night, something you needed to get off of your chest. It had been bothering you more and more over the last few days, ever since you had made the discovery. 

You are brought from your train of thought by the bleeping of your comm. You move leisurely to answer it, there was only one person who could be calling you at this time of night, but you knew he wouldn’t mind you taking a moment longer than usual. You answer your lover’s call, and a murmur on the other end of the line hushes- he must have been talking to someone as he awaited your answer. “Ah, my beloved.. I thought you had fallen asleep.” He mused quietly, his smug expression clear even through the blue hologram, and you can’t help but chuckle at him.  “No. I was looking out at the stars,” You tell him, plainly. Sunsets and night skies held a special place in both of your hearts; you had spent many nights on Coruscant looking out at them, telling each other the wishes you had made on shooting stars that you rarely saw. You heard Obi-Wan sighed quietly. He knew your habits when he was away, and what they meant. “I should be returning soon, my dear.” He assured you, lowering his voice to nothing more than a whisper. “I am trying to get this done, you know, but it’s not as easy as-”  “I know, I know.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking down at the floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Obi-Wan’s brows furrows, clearly he’s noticed your odd behaviour. 

“Something’s bothering you.” Obi-Wan notes, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his long robe. “Tell me,” He demanded. Though his tone was soft, it was still very much a command. You start to shake your head at him.  “I would rather not... Not over the comm.” You start, looking over to his projection. He looks even more concerned than before- partially because you disobeyed an order from him, and partially because you were willingly withholding information from him. You never did either of those things, not with him. You were both in balance, and trusted each other completely. He knew this had to be incredibly serious for you to say something like this.  “Then I shall return immediately.” He no longer cared for his assignment; he would much prefer that he knew you were safe and out of harm’s way. You start to shake your head more frantically.  “No, Kenobi- you must finish the task the Emperor has given you, he-”  “Can wait.” Obi-Wan finished abruptly. You could tell from the way he stood and held himself- chest out, shoulders back, spine rigid and straight-  that he could not be swayed on this. “He can wait.” He repeated, wanting the words to sink in, for you more than himself. “I will be returning, whether you agree with me or not. I will be back by the morning.” And with that, those final harsh words, he ended the call. You sighed quietly, running your hands over your face in exasperation and stress. You hadn’t wanted to pull your lover away from the mission he had been given, you had wanted to wait just a few more days till he returned as had been planned. You sighed deeply, moving away from the comm, heading towards bed as you strip off your clothes.  You nestle under the covers, wrapping your arms around yourself for some comfort. 

By morning, you were well rested. As your eyes started to crack and flutter open, you became acutely aware of the arm around your waist, and the head buried into the back of your neck. You shuffle slightly to look over your shoulder, smiling slightly at the peaceful expression on the face of the sleeping man behind you. By rights, you didn’t even have to turn over to know that it was Obi-Wan, you knew the feel of his aura and his touch. Still, it provided a sense of comfort, knowing with more certainty that it was him. You shuffle round to face him fully, brushing some of his auburn locks away from his closed eyes. His nose scrunches ever so slightly at the contact; and he too starts to wake up. It’s a slow process for him, and always had been. Even during his time serving the Order; though your mornings together were few and far between, you had noticed this little pattern of his. His eyes crack open like yours had done, and a drowsy smile moves over his lips.  “Good morning, darling...” He yawned softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your jaw. “You look stunning...” He told you, his lips still pressed against your skin as he gave you the compliment- no doubt the first of many that morning.  “You flatter me, Obi..” You murmur in reply, and presses kiss after feather-light kiss over your jaw and neck.  “I speak only the truth for you, my love...” He trailed off for a moment, as he started to push himself up onto his elbows. “Now... Onto business...” He mused, “You still need to tell me what’s bothering you.” He pointed out, and he was right, as he often was. “So, I would start talking, my dear.” 

Though his demeanour is playful, you know you shouldn’t argue this time around. You sit up, leaning against your pillows as your try to think of how to start talking about your recent discovery- despite it’s wonderful connotations, it was not as easy as one might think. “Obi...” You begin.  “Darling.” He replied, hardly missing a beat.  “I have some... Rather pleasing news.” He nods, prompting you to continue. “You... Are going to be a father.”  It takes him a moment to actually register your words, for their meaning to sink in. He practically tackles you back into the bed when it clicks somewhere in his mind, the widest smile on his face. He’s laughing breathlessly, hardly able to believe the news or contain his excitement because of it.  “Is it so?” He asked, his hand splaying over your stomach as he spoke. “My, my...” He mumbled- and it was moments like this that showed how much he had changed from his old ways. Had you given such news to him whilst he was still a Jedi- he would have panicked at first, asked if you wished to keep the child, and if you had done he would have likely asked you to leave to a slightly more rural planetary system. He had no fear now, and so didn’t need to ask you. He accepts it with ease in these times, and is more than happy to receive such news.  He had no fear in rearing a child now, so long as you wished for it too. He paused as this thought washed over him, then gave you a curious look. “Are we... Keeping the child?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I think we could be wonderful parents... If you’re not away so much.” You poke your finger into his chest.  “Alright... I will discuss it...” He mused, resting his head near you abdomen, gazing at it in wonder. He could hardly believe that your child- the fruits of both of you- was growing there, and he was more than just excited to meet his child. He pulled you close again, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances as the morning wound on, till you eventually fell asleep again in his arms, comforted by his presence.