#when all it needed was a bit of setup at the beginning

[bookshelf-in-progress]

It's so weird when you have a story whose plot problems you've been unable to tangle for years, and then suddenly you come back to it and bash your head against it for a while, and it turns out that the answer was so simple and it was there the whole time. Am I supposed to be happy this came together or embarrassed that it took me so long to find the obvious answer?

[magentagalaxies]

going to a comedy open mic tomorrow mostly to watch my friends (it's at a cool venue that my improv troupe performs at once a month and a few improv troupe friends are doing standup there) but when these friends were asking if i'd be interested in coming they were like "btw there's usually a ton of open spots on show days if YOU want to do something... and they're not strict about it only being standup either, people have done character pieces and sketches etc like they embrace the weirdness... and they're not strict about time limits you could probably do anything between three and eight minutes... sometimes if there's not enough people signed up they'll even let you go twice..." and i'm like god damn it i thought i was gonna take a break from aubrey but this setup is like tailor made for an aubrey appearance lmao

[sillystringpasta]

so, i see all these aus where danny gets help from the justice league for the anti ecto acts, and they're great. but hear me out. ghost king danny. classic setup, acts need to be repealed or war.

so danny goes to the league, of course.

the league of assassins.

Ra's is already familiar with death, and ghosts, and the realms. ya man's had the lazarus pits for centuries, he knows a little bit of what's what. maybe there's already some trade relations going on. more importantly, he has a massive group of hyper competent people who can pull strings in the government very stealthily, and have no outside affiliation or loyalty to that government.

but why not the JL? most of them are based in the USA. they work with the government (danny assumes). surely they are aware of the Acts. surely they would conform to them, enforce them.

so ghost king danny meets with ra's, who gives rancid vibes, but is able to, and wants to, do a smear campaign against the JL. against the USA. to gain favor with the guy who is the king of his most sacred resource, and knowledge about how to use the Pits to gain some basic liminal powers.

danny doesn't like the solution, exactly. but he's king. and this is what will protect his people. this is what will get expedient results. this is what his advisors who will still permit peace will allow.

so danny takes the deal with Ra's.

the initial outrage begins online, perhaps through MikMok. a mega famous influencer is cosplaying as superman, doing a twerking sort of dance to the most current haha funni meme song. the text overlay reads: when the superheroes condone genocide because they aren't human, ANTI-ECTO ACTS (whatever law/section code they were passed in).

it goes viral. and then someone finds the Acts (prodded along by the League) and it goes from a hit sensation online to every. single. news outlet flooding with information (puppeted by the League).

is this real? the Acts are real. but why? if these people(?) don't exist, why the Acts? the outrage. the mass confusion. the conspiracies. the new subgeddits and trending xitter tags. 4kun greentext be me: a ghost, becomes the new thing.

at this point, the GIW are scrambling to keep their involvment on the downlow. there are acts, sure, but they're not enforced :DDDD

vlad is in a similar situation. he cloned a guy. he def experimented on other ghosts to get to that level of knowledge. naturally, this is about when lex luthor gets involved. because, wouldn't you know it, but project CADMUS? yeah. that was a collab with DalvCo. they both wanted non-human clones from green stuff. they got it, and now luthor's sitting on some unpretty information.

he promptly shoves vlad under the bus, which is rapidly becoming less of a bus and more a trainwreck.

the league is surprised this happened, but goes with it.

the US governemnt is still trying to deny, deny, deny.

it's at this point that the JL gets themselves together. they don't know if the papers by Drs fenton are biased, or if ecto entities really are mindless creatures bent on destruction.

constantine says they're biased. green lantern concurs.

they decide to summon an ecto entity and find out what is going on.

danny is pretty stressed. it's a stressful situation. he's on break for the first time since they got a solution to this problem. he's not gonna answer a summoning. he has people to do that for him.

so they don't get the ghost king.

but they do get-

dani. and jazz. at the same time.

maximum possible psychic damage.

in the room at the watchtower is the big 3, green lantern, martian manhunter, flash, constantine, zatanna, raven, and black canary (legends of tomorrow experience? cool headed? there for arrow who is busy?).

dani doesn't like superman. he treats clones badly. jazz doesn't like batman, see Arkham.

dani doesn't know who c, z, raven, or bc are. jazz kinda knows of them, but not well.

so the actual negotiations go down with WW and MM.

they have a lot of questions. dani (abomination form) introduces jazz (basic looking human) as a princess of the realms. jazz says that the Acts are real, the realms want war, go suck a creamsickle (that was dani), they want restitution for the lives lost from the GIW.

then they leave the JL wondering who the GIW are.

someone (LoA) manages to hack the watchtower and post the meeting online as soon as it happens. or maybe they livestreamed it on Switch.

my spamblr, the result of my space buying tumblr in 1999, gains its first sexy women (jazz). jazz/WW fiction springs up on AOL3 overnight.

the GIW goes public. they try to push the envelop of ghosts being non-sentient. they try to use jazz being ambassador for that meeting to help their case. the JL is fighting accuations, but they are being pidgeon holed into siding with the GIW by the media.

it's at this point that things go from trainwreck to airplane runway crash.

dalvco and luthor are in a lawsuit. the usgov is under pressure from everyone. people are calling for impeachment of the president. the GIW is getting raided and having their evil posted online. the drs fentons are absent (in the ghost zone, either being evil or having mimosas with pandora). ra's is trying to use new knowledge of the Pits to reanimate tim's spleen. the JL is under constant fire. everyone who has ever had a malicious opinion about super or meta control is getting new platforms. danny can't use his intimate knowledge of what's going on to write his essays for school.

the world is galvanized. there are calls to action. liminals of Amity Prak come forward. you could be liminal too! the Acts get repealed. the GIW gets cleaned out, all prisoners rescued. the realms get restituition. the meta protection acts get expanded.

people will learn about phantom, the superhero. the dead boy who saved them all when the JL didn't answer amity's calls. the JL comes under more fire. they lose funding, defund the police style. for maximum chaos, this can be when the miraculous ladybug crossover starts.

phantom gets a bajillion features on true crime podcasts. tucker keeps sending links to the episodes to them. sam will never admit it, but she listens to them.

but things will never, ever be the same. arguably it's a bad end. but...

black canary restructures arkham from what jazz said to batman in that meeting. many of the rogues get actual help. the joker is transfered to a supermax. he never escapes again. nightwing takes the discowing costume back up in celebration.

vlad loses the lawsuit, and uses his powers to get one over on luthor, who has a mind control suggestion implanted to (amongst other things) never be able to work on these projects again.

there is greater transparancy in superhero work. this makes some people start social programs for villians who have a point. it works for a few of them. the JL is cleared up to handle more extraterrestriel threats, not leaving the burden on one person alone in the cities. the child sidekicks have less work.

amanda waller is fired. ironically, she had nothing to do with any of this, but people assume that she did. either way, everyone agrees it's deserved.

the league of assassins makes a lot of money. they get hired a lot in turbulent times.

disney, which is utterly unchanged in this dimension, makes a documentary about everything. they get dani in for an interview. it's in very bad taste. there is at least one death pun and CGI'd animal.

danny graduates.

clockwork smiles.

[bbokicidal]

First Time's The Charm? Pt. 2 | OT8 [SKZ]

Notes : This was a Drabble request someone sent in, so it's short, to the point, and simple. Hope you enjoy! Genre : Smut Warnings : 18+ Content Req : Having sex with SKZ for the first time <- Except it's not just your first time together, it's their first time period.

Chris :

So gentle, so sweet. So kind. Keeps his hands off of you at first because he's scared he might push or pull you, so he keeps them fisted in the sheets as he finds comfort in your gummy walls. He's melting against you and trembling as he holds himself up, his chest just barely brushing yours each time he draws his hips back all shaky-like. He eases into it shortly after it all begins, but then stiffens up a bit again when he realizes he might be getting too comfortable with how rough he's getting. You know, with the headboard knocking against the wall and all.

Minho :

Asks you to ride him because he's unsure of how to go about all of it. Afraid he might embarrass himself and look stupid - but he ends up all red in the ears and neck anyway because of how pretty you look in his lap. He has to fight to keep his legs against the mattress when you slide down on his cock, wanting to push up and do something as well. But you find a nice balance in the way you bounce and the way he rocks his hips so carefully; Enough to keep it soft and gentle for his first time but still able to rock his world.

Changbin :

Acts like he knows what he's doing - fumbles when his cock stretches you so much that you ask him to prep you more. He's embarrassed, feels like he messed up somehow, so he needs the reassurance for a while that he was doing perfectly fine - and he's surprised to see that you're a little shy about it all. Of course he'll question you on why you're all red and meek, and when you explain that he did everything right - he's just so big - his confidence comes flooding back tenfold and he's smirking to himself with a downturned smile shortly after. After that? You wouldn't even be able to tell he's a newbie with how cocky he gets.

Hyunjin :

So romantic. Gets eighty thousand candles, decorates the room with them, lights them all - dims the lamps, turns on soft music, sprinkles the floor with rose petals and welcomes you home from work with slow kisses and lingering touches. He can tell you're surprised with the setup - with the way he undresses you so carefully and lets his fingertips trace every inch of your exposed skin. Another one you really wouldn't be able to tell is new to it all. But it also makes you wonder - just how is he so smooth with it?

Jisung :

Fumbles. so bad. Man is anxious, but excited, and it's getting the best of him. He knocks his elbow into the nightstand when he takes his shirt off and ends up whimpering in laughter at the stinging waves of pain, then moves hair out of your face while kissing you and accidentally gets some of it in his mouth. He's doing his best, and even if he's very clearly shy about it and having a hard time keeping up with himself - you can't help but find him extremely cute. (He cums in his pants just seeing you naked.)

Felix :

Gets ahead of himself while gaming and receiving head. He's already in shambles with you on your knees between his thighs, arms wrapped around his waist while ringed fingers click at his LED keyboard In attempt to play support; But he needs more. So he gently pulls you up by the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss before asking that you take off your PJ shorts and give him a little more encouragement in other ways. (Kind of has a frat-boy tone while asking it but ends up giggling and covering his face with his hands when you do strip for him. Shy about it - but also a cocky mf. Love him fr.)

Seungmin :

So.. romantic?? So so romantic?? Not like Hyunjin-level romantic; But romantic in the sense that he caresses every inch of your body, cups your face in his hands while you kiss, and tries to make sure he's always touching you in some way. He can't keep his hands off of you even while just making out, peeling clothes from your body and dipping long fingers between your thighs to feel over the slick dripping from your slit. Also cannot stop kissing you. Knows where your clit is. Makes that very known. (He's done his research.)

Jeongin :

Feel like my instinct is to say 'He's super hesitant' but I don't think he is. Jeongin seems like the type of guy to know what he wants. He's the type to suck a hickey or two into your skin and keep biting you until you ask what he's up to. He's too shy to actually say 'I want to have sex' for the first time, so he just takes control of the situation in a gentle-dom manner; Climbing over you, sandwiching you between his body and the couch, kissing you until your lips are bruised and swollen. He's the type to drag it out for hours and there's so much foreplay but also so much sex. Also asks you right after it's over if you can use toys next time.

Taglist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

[dewwinchester]

next. | d.w.

request: @rustic-guitar-notes: "can u write a little cutesy piece basically about reader and dean living a very normal life and leaving hunting?? like they have a whole house together and sam visits sometimes and it’s all just soft and NORMAL."

synopsis: this is written as a sequel to done, however, it can also be read as a standalone fic.

pairing: dean winchester x female!reader

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: fluff - she/her pronouns used - no use of 'y/n' - a smidge of angst if you squint - a surprise Sam appearance - Eileen mention! - pet names used (sweetheart)

a/n: this took me FOREVER i'm so sorry!! but I hope this makes up for it <3333 (also eileen is blurry wife confirmed by me)

Why did cooking have to be so difficult?

The instructions stared up at you from your phone screen, mocking your efforts. You had no trouble following directions and were confident you had done everything perfectly. Yet, your kitchen was beginning to fill with smoke, and the burger patties on the stove—the patties you had spent hours putting together—were starting to fall apart and burn.

There was stuff everywhere. Herbs were all over the counter, white flour-handprints covered your shirt, and you were certain some of it was in your hair. Flecks of ground beef were on your tiled walls and floor (which, thankfully, your dog Miracle cleaned up right away). Salad ingredients littered your bench space, leaving you little to no room to move.

You were beginning to feel claustrophobic. This kitchen was a lot smaller than the one you were used to.

You were accustomed to the bunker, with its vast countertop space, where anything you needed was within arm's reach and easily spotted. Currently, what little kitchenware you had was hidden behind cabinet doors, and you were still getting used to the setup.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you felt your heart rate begin to accelerate. You felt stupid. All you wanted to do was make a nice meal, and cooking was simply reading and following instructions—why couldn't you just do that?

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a shrill beeping rang through your house.

The smoke alarm.

Panicked, you fumbled to turn off the stove and wave away the smoke, desperately trying to silence the alarm before one of your nosy neighbours came knocking at the door. When the beeping finally stopped, you returned to the stove, sighing at the blackened mess that was left.

It didn't look too bad. You were sure that you could fix it simply by scraping off the burnt bits; no one would even know just how badly you messed everything up.

You decided to turn your attention to something that only an idiot could mess up—chopping. You were once quite skilled with a blade—a year ago you would have been using it for something entirely different, like chopping off the heads of vampires or other various creatures that went bump in the night. Today, however, you swapped a machete for a chef's knife. Most of your weapons were carefully packed away, with only a few small trinkets and books to remind you of your old life as a hunter.

You sliced lettuce, tomato, and cucumber, being sure to tuck your fingers away and allow the knife to rock against your knuckles, just like the professionals did on television.

You were so focused on perfecting your chopping technique that you barely noticed the sound of keys turning in the lock or the front door swinging open. The sound of footsteps behind you went unnoticed until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Out of pure instinct, you spun around, knife gripped tightly in your hand as a surge of adrenaline washed over you. You raised the blade towards the potential assailant, holding it a breath's distance away from their neck, your knuckles turning white. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears and your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden movement. Your brain was telling you to strike, to move on the enemy before it was too late, but the gentle hand that curled around your wrist caused your defensive stance to falter.

“You gonna stab me, sweetheart?”

"Dean?" you breathed, immediately pulling the knife away from his throat. Your heart was still thundering away, but the buzz of energy in your system had subsided to a gentle hum. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well, I thought I would come home early and surprise you," he said, taking the knife from your hand and placing it on the countertop. "I didn't think you were gonna Long-Kiss-Goodnight-me."

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, anxiety and embarrassment quickly replacing the adrenaline. “Old habits…”

Dean took you by the shoulder and pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He placed a firm kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there. You melted into him and snaked your arms around his middle, feeling every worry melt away. He smelled like work: fuel, oil, and metal, and despite washing his hands copious times, there were still motor oil stains on his skin. Normally, the smell would have had you scrunching your nose up and ordering Dean into the shower, but for the first time, you couldn’t find yourself caring.

“How was work?” you asked, pulling back to look up at him. His hair was scruffy, the ends standing up in a hundred different directions. It was longer than Dean usually allowed it to get, but he told you he wanted to “experiment with the length” (you weren’t going to admit that the thought made you ever so slightly giddy).

"Pretty good," he replied, furrowing his brows for a moment as he wiped a patch of flour off your forehead with his thumb. "Some guy brought in an old Mustang. Got to—"

His eyes tore off you, looking towards the mess you left on the stove.

"What the hell—"

"Don't ask," you grumbled.

"What did you—what even—"

"I thought I said don't ask."

Dean picked the frypan up off the stove, inspecting the charred contents, and you felt like shrinking inside yourself. He looked over to the chopped ingredients on the counter before turning back to you.

"Dinner…?"

"I tried," you gave up. "I really did. I thought I would do something nice and surprise you, but apparently, I'm the world's worst cook."

Dean wasn't going to admit it, but you were right. You could make a mean bowl of cereal and a damn good cup of coffee, but when it came to toasting, baking, or frying, it usually ended with someone needing to get the fire extinguisher.

Your face fell into your hands—the tears were back, and you tried your best to hide them, but your shaky breaths immediately alerted Dean.

"Hey," he said with a light chuckle. He pulled you back towards him, one hand on your back, the other holding the back of your head. "It's all good."

"No it's not," you said, voice muffled by Dean's embrace. "I used to be good at something. Now I'm not good at anything."

"What d'you mean?"

"I used to be good at—at hunting. I used to wake up every day knowing exactly what to do and when. Now I can't even make a meal without messing up. At least you're good at something."

Dean nodded, fully understanding. It had been roughly six months since your last hunt, since you'd both hung up your hats and said goodbye to the life forever.

Surprisingly enough, Dean settled into your new life faster than you both had thought. He had gotten the mechanic job right off the bat and quickly fell into a routine. It was good for him. He had something to look forward to every day. He had new skills that he was able to put to use.

You, on the other hand, were finding things a little more difficult. You had no experience doing anything, making finding a job damn near impossible. You found yourself itching to check for the latest missing persons case or some kind of sign of the next apocalypse. You busied yourself by walking the dog, by cleaning the little house you rented in Kansas, by reading dozens of books.

Dean never pushed you. Instead, he let you adjust at your own pace.

Sure, there were still nights where one of you would wake up from a nightmare a sobbing, shaky mess, where visions of blood, death, and monsters flashed behind your eyelids. But you were always there for each other with comforting touches and words—you were each other's beacons of light when things began to grow dark again.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, hands moving to your shoulders. “You are gonna head out, grab a pizza from down the street. I am gonna stay here and tidy up.”

“But—”

“Then,” he continued, “We’re gonna settle in for the night. Couch. Beer. Movie.”

“Fine,” you sighed, a smile creeping back onto your lips.

Your car smelled like pizza as you pulled into the little cul-de-sac where your house was. Three boxes sat on your passenger seat, and you had to refrain from reaching over and snagging a piece before getting home. Dean would have your head if you started without him.

You passed several houses on your block that looked somewhat similar to your own before your little house came into view. It was smaller than the others, but it made up for it with a massive front and back yard. It had a brown roof, beige-yellow walls, and a wooden door. For most people, it wasn’t much to look at—many of the people who inspected it had turned their noses up and laughed at it.

It wasn’t much, but it was home.

Upon pulling into the driveway, you noticed another car parked on the side of the road up ahead. The sight of it brought a wide smile to your face.

Sam.

It had been days since you last saw him. After spending all day every day in the Winchesters’ pockets, you had felt strange not seeing Sam constantly. After everything, Sam had become one of your closest and dearest friends—he was like an older brother to you. He knew everything about you, and you knew everything about him. You could talk to each other freely without judgment—he just got you.

You quickly parked your car, grabbed the pizza boxes, and headed inside.

You could hear Sam and Dean before seeing them. After years of hunting, stakeouts, and sneaking around, you were surprised the brothers weren't a little more subtle. Six months ago, you would have assumed they were arguing about something, but as you approached the front door, you actually heard them laugh.

You pushed the door open and headed inside, immediately greeted by Miracle. He sniffed around your feet and tried his best to investigate the pizza boxes in your hand, his tail wagging profusely. Dean took the pizza boxes from your hands, shot you a wink, and took them into the kitchen. Miracle quickly turned his attention away from you and followed the smell of the pizza. Traitor.

"Hey, stranger," Sam said, standing at the end of the entryway, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

You threw your keys on the small bench near the front door and practically ran over to Sam, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him.

"This is a nice surprise! Long time no see," you said, pulling back to take a look at him. He looked well-rested—happy—and there was a glint in his eye that you couldn't quite put your finger on. "How's Eileen?"

"Good," he lowered his head, the look in his eye now spreading to the rest of his face. A smile crept across his lips, the kind that had your brows furrowing in interest. "Yeah, she's real good."

You made a mental note to ask about it later.

"Pizza's gettin' cold!" Dean called, which caused you and Sam to roll your eyes in unison.

After indulging in five slices of pizza and three beers, you were completely stuffed. The boys had spent at least forty-five minutes arguing over which movie to watch, so the film—which should have ended by now—had only just started playing on your TV. You teetered on the edge of post-meal drowsiness, your eyes drooping. You fought hard against it; you wanted to stay awake and catch up with Sam, to hear more about how domestic life was finally treating him.

You felt content in your surroundings, and the knowledge that both your boys were here safe made you feel warm. The couch beneath you was soft, and with your head resting in Dean's lap, you felt even more comfortable. His thumb rubbed against your shoulder in small circles, and the rhythm of his touch eventually sent you off to sleep entirely. You had lost the fight.

“She asleep?” Sam asked in a whisper, gesturing with a nod towards you.

Dean shifted ever so slightly and cast his eyes down to you before nodding. "She wouldn't stop askin' me to invite you over. Thought the surprise would keep her buzzed for hours."

Sam chuckled, "Y'know, she can invite me over whenever she wants?"

"Man, if she had it her way, you'd never leave."

Sam smiled, and the two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until his eyes grew concerned. He sat forward and grabbed the TV remote, turning down the volume until the film playing was barely audible.

"How's she doing?" he asked.

Dean shrugged, "Can't tell. Sometimes she seems okay. Then… I don't know…"

"What do you mean?"

"Came home today and found her in the kitchen. She was freaking out about dinner—"

"She's never been the best cook."

"I know," Dean said, "but she started tellin' me she wasn't good at anythin' anymore."

Sam's brows furrowed, "It'll take her some time to adjust. I mean, we aren’t exactly the best examples of settling into the real world."

“I keep tellin’ her that, but I don’t think she believes me.”

At that moment, Sam wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. He wanted to tell you about the several times he’d attempted a normal life and failed, how the hunting life had an iron-grip hold on him for years until he finally felt the time was right to cut free. But he decided to leave it for another time. You looked too peaceful.

But he knew that you would be fine. You always were. Aside from his brother, you were one of the strongest people Sam knew.

"How're things going with you and Eileen?" Dean asked. "Honeymoon phase over yet?"

A smile tugged on Sam's lips, "Yeah… I uh—I guess it kinda is."

"Dude, already? What did you do?"

"Nothing," Sam defended. "We've just found a routine. Settled in…"

"And…?"

Sam's hands swiped down his face as he sat back on the couch with a huff. His foot bounced against the floor, his eyes drifting from his brother to you and then back again.

"I wanted to tell you guys together."

Confusion flashed across Dean’s face as he sat up, careful not to jostle you around too much. “Wanted to tell us what?”

Sam let out a breath, “Eileen’s pregnant.”

Silence fell over the lounge room—the only sound being that of the soft dialogue coming from the television. The confusion on Dean’s face slowly morphed into shock, then confusion again, before a grin broke out.

“Are you serious?”

Sam nodded.

“You’re—you’re serious?”

Sam chuckled, nodding again.

There was something about it that Dean couldn’t believe. His brother—his baby brother—was having his own baby. It felt like just yesterday that he was picking him up from Stanford. The man next to him was no longer that college kid; he was starting his own family.

The thought made Dean look down at you. He wondered what it would be like to do all of that with you. Sure, the two of you had spoken about it here and there—marriage, family, the whole nine—but it never really went any further than that.

Dean’s brows furrowed as he looked up from you and back to his brother.

“She’s gonna kill you if she finds out she missed this.”

Sam laughed quietly, which caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle. “Well then, how ‘bout I stay the night? I’ll tell you guys in the morning… Just—try to act surprised. For our sake.”

“Deal.”

[these-lovely-monsters]

The Dragon's Pretty Treasure - Part 1

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: m!dragon x f!reader

Content: kidnapping, mild dub-con, inhuman anatomy, size difference, two dicks, dp, tail action, fluids, koala bear fleshlight

(Note: part 1 is just the setup and only contains kidnapping - aforementioned cws are for the whole story)

Series complete: [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

Opening your eyes, you blink a few times, trying to adjust your vision to the darkness surrounding you. There is a faint glow that gently illuminates the space around you but everything else is mostly darkness and all you can make out are vague shapes and shadows. Looking around, you see that a small bit of light is coming from some embers in a dying fire next to you. This is definitely not your tiny studio apartment back home.

Where the hell are you?

As you sit up, you rub your eyes, groaning at the stiffness in your joints. From the aches in your muscles, you must have been asleep for a while. Looking down, you realize that you are lying on a bed of what seem to be soft furs or pelts of some kind. A cool breeze drifts in from somewhere and you shiver, realizing that you are also naked. 

What the fuck happened?

But before you can try to rack your foggy brain to figure it out, a giant yellow eye the size of your head blinks open at the edge of the darkness across from you. Yelping in shock, you scramble backwards as the eye rotates to reveal a second one just as large and luminescent. Both eyes have giant slitted pupils and seem to glow in the darkness. Before you can get far, something smooth and cool wraps around your waist, holding you in place. Heart pounding in your ears, you glance down to find that it is a dark green, almost black, appendage covered in scales. Extending from the darkness, it winds around your stomach with the end coming to a tapered point near your navel. It squeezes gently, hard enough to hold you firm but not enough to hurt.

Holy shit, is it a tail of some sort?

Too terrified to move further, you hold your breath and look back up at the giant yellow orbs peering at you from the shadows. Slowly, they begin to draw closer, and you hear heavy, measured thuds echo off the walls. As the eyes approach the dying fire, a massive snout comes into view and then a head the size of a car follows. Your eyes bug as you take in the scaly surface of a face, with ridged brows and a line of spikes running in increasing size from the tip of its snout up and over the back of its head. Two large horns protrude from above its brows and curve backwards towards where you assume its shoulders would be.

When its snout is a few inches from your face, you tremble as its nostrils flare and it inhales deeply. Then it exhales with a low rumbling sound as its hot breath fans across your face, blowing strands of hair off your shoulders.

It’s…sniffing you!

You nearly jump out of your skin when a deep, inhuman voice booms through the cavern and you have to cover your ears from the sheer volume.

“You are awake.”

The voice continues to echo off the walls for a few moments and then silence settles again, apart from the monster’s deep rhythmic breaths and your pounding heart. Slowly, you lower your hands from your ears and realize, belatedly, that it hadn’t moved its mouth when it spoke.

Had it projected its voice or are you just going crazy? Probably just going crazy.

“Where…where am I?” you manage to stammer out.

“My cave,” it rumbles again, softer this time, as if it realized its voice was too loud.

Oh fuck, you are going to die here, cold and naked in this cave.

Beginning to hyperventilate, you start to struggle in the grasp of its tail. 

“Please don’t eat me!” you shout. 

You need to figure out a way to get out of here!

It lets out a low, chuffing sound, which must be a chuckle and says, “I don’t plan to eat you.” And before you know what’s happening, its jaws part slightly and a giant, tapered tongue slips between massive, razor sharp teeth and licks up the side of your neck.

Shit, this monster definitely wants to eat you.

“Why am I here?” you squeak, utterly terrified but trying to keep it talking in the hopes you can figure out an escape plan before it decides it’s done playing with its food.

“I wanted a pretty treasure for my horde.”

A pretty treasure?... Does he mean you?

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

I promise there will be smut in part 2!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Bonus: here is a size comparison if you're wondering just how big this guy really is...

[hardknifeplays]

'*•.¸♡ relationship with könig: headcanons ♡¸.•*'

tags: gn!reader x könig, he's older than you, mostly domestic, nsfw-ish!

NOTE: Please do NOT repost anywhere | reblog, likes, and comments are appreciated! ♡

✧ the beginning of the relationship was a bit difficult, he was so used to the hard and rough military life. knowing he has a higher rank in his team, he treated you like you're his subordinates, not his partner.

✧ he was too commanding until you snapped and brought him back to reality one day. you told him that when he's with you he's not supposed to act and/or treat you the way he treats his soldiers in the field.

✧ that was the first time he saw you snapping at him, and it scared the life out of him. he never thought someone whose figure was so small compared to him could be THAT fiery and going against him.

✧ he was a bit pushy and almost always forced you to do whatever he suggested (about anything, really), and let's say he was not on his best behavior back then. you realized you shouldn't let a man step on you like this, especially when you're his partner.

✧ you dared yourself to be more vocal and direct to him. it worked; you told him where he was wrong and how you wanted him to improve next time. sure, he still made some slip-ups but he definitely got better.

✧ he told you he was sorry for the way he treated you, he was never good with communication. he never wanted to be mean to you, and you saw major changes within him from that point.

✧ he started to show his gentle and clingy side, you almost forgot that this is the same man who was a little too stern to you a few months ago.

✧ morning sex is a MUST, inhaling your natural scent from behind while his hips are drilling against your ass is the best way to start a morning.

✧ his love language is eating together with you. either eating some meals made by you, made by him, or even take-outs, he always wants to eat with you. if you're not hungry? well, he can tell his stomach to hold the hunger a bit just for you.

✧ this man LOVES dirty jokes and puns you throw at him. always get him all flustered and red like a fucking tomato. run your mouth, sweetheart, this Austrian giant is head over heels for you even more! ;)

✧ he's becoming more and more vocal and open about his feelings and thoughts to you, despite feeling extra anxious whenever he did so. soon he realized that you're here to listen to him, and not to judge him.

✧ the most romantic moments happens after work, you're serving him a cup of coffee or tea while he's resting himself on the dinner table. you two will spend the rest of the evening talking about your day, his day, and sometimes some gossips in your or his office. drinking tea while spilling some tea, if you will. 🍵

✧ the man is a massive science nerd 😅 he's subscribing to youtube channels like michael reeves, kurzgesagt, and NileRed. he'd love to watch science documentaries with you until both of you fall asleep.

✧ he loves it when you rely on him. need some new, exclusive collector edition books? he's here to pay, even the hardcover ones! need new lipstick or makeup? take him to sephora and make yourself pretty with his cash, darling. need new PC components? he'll spoil you and make you an amazing PC setup!

✧ besides the material things, he loves you even more when you cling to him like a baby koala when you're anxious or feeling unsafe in general. he loves being a big man for his dearest love.

✧ he's quite busy, and his line of work is highly demanding for his presence. he's a colonel, leading missions and he even goes to his office or shooting range on weekends or holidays. his hard work paid off, and he kept being promoted to higher positions.

✧ loves it when you asks him about his job. what is he doing? what is a “human battering ram”? he's willing to answer some grime questions from you, e.g. is he becoming insensitive to see gruesome death? is human blood really THAT red and fresh? is he afraid of the ghosts of the enemies he had killed? etc.

✧ sometimes he comes home looking frustrated, and it scares you a bit. worried that he'd back to his old self, the overly stern and authoritarian asshole. but then you know that his frustration is not directed at you, but rather to whoever the hell managed to piss him off at the office.

✧ you can soothe him in two ways: calm him down by talking him out through it and bathe him (unless he requests some alone time to sort his thoughts), or being his obedient fucktoy for him to release all that pent-up anger. you choose :)

✧ he'd consume you whole if he sees you with bodycon dress or any tight clothing. it turns him into an animal.

✧ always asks for pictures whenever you're away from him. say things like, "i want to see how well your dress/shirt is hugging your figure, love." ; "you'd look gorgeous with that makeup/style."

✧ plenty of nicknames for you: feisty firecracker, honeybee, sweetface, schnucki (means 'sweetie' in german), schatz, Schmetterling (butterfly), my love, my darling, my dearest angel, my sweet, ... etc.

✧ if you happen to be someone from outside of german speaking country, he'd teach you some german. mostly curses and dirty words, though. hehe.

✧ he'd love to bring you to his hometown in salzburg. he'd take you to makartsteg (lovers lock) bridge and seeing the mountains, and he's so excited to introduce you to local foods and drinks.

✧ he'd love to be your biggest motivator whenever you feel lazy to do something. got some homework or tasks you need to finish, but didn't want to? he'd say, "do it and I'll reward you in the bedroom, schatzi."

✧ if you two are already talking about marriage... he'd be so nervous about meeting your parents, especially if you have extremely different cultures as him. he's a grown man with a great income that surely can sustain you two, which you're sure that your parents wouldn't mind about.

✧ his biggest concern about starting a family with you is your safety, knowing how often he's deployed. being one of the best operators in his team meant he'd constantly be called to missions, sometimes to a region or country that you'd never heard of before. he always tell you to pray for him, so he can come back to you alive AND intact.

✧ he wants three kids. and if that's too much for you, he won't complain either. he just thinks that three is a sweet spot for him.

hehe that's it! hope you enjoy this as much as i do.

━ sincerely, hardknifeplays.

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? - Part 1

In which something magical begins.

Warnings: none, just a bit of mutual pining. but this will be an angsty one i think. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Words: 2.6k

Master List

(a/n: new series alert! friends to lovers featuring lando norris. this one will be several parts spanning from 2019 to present day. I've tried my hardest to make sure the timeline/race results are accurate but I may have adjusted something to make it work a bit better for the story line. this is a total work of fiction, purely for entertainment.)

February 2019 

Woking, Surry, England

“This is not going to be a year of partying and laziness, Chiquita.” Carlos throws you a sidelong glance as he pulls his new McLaren into a parking spot early one February morning. “You are here with me to work, not spend your gap year playing.” 

“If I’m here to work, then you can’t me ‘little girl’ while we’re here, Carlos.” You bite back, hauling your tote bag from the floor of the low slung sports car. 

Carlos chuckles, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you both begin the walk into his new workplace: the McLaren Technology Center. “Fair enough, Chiquita.” 

Last spring, you had graduated from high school and had spent one miserable semester at the University of Madrid in the fall before dropping out just a few months ago. 

Carlos dodges the swat that you aim at his bicep, taking a few quick steps ahead of you as you approach the front door of the large white building. The sprawling MTC is an intimidating building and you knew that if you hadn’t been here with Carlos, there was no way you’d be able to find your way. 

After spending a few listless months bouncing from Carlos’ couch in Monaco back to your parent’s estate in Spain, they had laid down the law. You needed to figure out what you were going to do for the foreseeable future if going back to University wasn’t in the cards for you at the moment. They were fine with you not going back to uni right away, in fact, they encouraged you to take a gap year but they expected you to do something productive with your life while you figured out what you wanted to do. 

And that had been when your older brother had entered the chat. He had finished third year as a Formula 1 driver a few months ago and would be changing teams come the new season in March. In December, he had parted ways with his long time assistant, who wanted to spend more time with her new husband and less time traveling. Carlos and you had always been the closest of the four Sainz siblings despite the six year age gap (his 25 years to your 19) so it had been the most natural thing in the world to have you be his assistant and social media manager for the 2019 F1 season. 

Up until today, Carlos had been attending pre-season meetings and putting time in at McLaren’s sim setup by himself but you had arrived at his flat five minutes from the MTC yesterday, suitcases in hand, ready to get started as your brother’s assistant. It had been ages since the two of you had spent this much time together and while you were mostly excited to spend the year traveling and reconnecting with your big brother, there was a bit of trepidation and anxiety sitting in your chest as you walked through those sliding glass doors this morning. 

You were barely 19 after all, little real world experience and you knew absolutely no one in this entire country beyond your brother. All of your friends were attending university in other countries, far away from the world you now found yourself in. Yes, you were excited but you were also insanely nervous. 

Carlos leads you down a long hallway, lined with trophy cases filled with motorsport winners trophies on one side and sleek F1 cars on the other. It was an entire shrine to McLaren history, of which there was a lot, and you were in awe as you followed after your brother. “Where are we going?” You ask as he turns down another quiet hallway, convinced you’d be utterly lost if Carlos asked you to show him how to get back to the front doors. 

“I have a little office tucked away back here next to Lando’s, I wanted to get you set up with the laptop and sync my calendar so you could get yourself ready.” 

You nod, ears perking up at the mention of your brother’s new teammate, Lando Norris. You knew a little about him from a few causal Google searches. He was 19 like you and this was his rookie season in Formula 1. From everything you read, he was a karting prodigy that had been signed by McLaren for a while and had been tapped to drive opposite of Carlos this year. Just knowing that there would be someone around the offices and on the road that was your age made the tight anxiety that sat in your chest ease just a touch, even if you two didn’t end up being more than acquaintances this year. 

Carlos hadn’t been lying about his ‘little’ office. It was barely more than a broom closet if you were being honest. Just enough room for a desk, a pair of chairs, and a bookshelf, but there was a large window that faced south so at least there’d always be sun spilling into the small space making it feel a little airier. 

You pull your MacBook out of the Dior tote Carlos had gotten you for your birthday last year as Carlos chatters away about schedules, press duties, and what he expected out of you. You listened carefully, taking notes in a little spiral bound notebook as you waited for your laptop to boot up. 

“Are you in here talking to yourself again, Carlitos?” 

Your head snaps up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and you find yourself smiling at the boy standing in the doorway. He’s a few inches taller than you, with short brown hair, and bright green eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes. The deep tan of his skin surprises you a bit, considering its February in England and you hadn’t seen the sun since you left Spain yesterday. 

The boy’s face instantly sobers when he sees that your brother isn’t alone. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He blushes, hand coming to cup the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.” 

Carlos laughs, “This isn’t a guest. This is my sister, the one I was telling you about Friday. She’s going to be my assistant this year.” 

“Of course, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lando.” 

You stand, crossing the small office in just 2 quick strides to shake Lando’s outstretched hand, “Nice to meet you too, Lando.” You say, polite smile playing on your lips. 

Lando turned around then, not wanting to intrude on the sibling time but also needing a moment to collect himself. He had known that you would be spending the season with your bother and that you two were around the same age but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was for how pretty you were. Your hair was even darker than your brother’s and it tumbled over your shoulders in layered waves that shined in a way that made Lando’s mouth go a little dry. Those dark eyes, round and doe eyed, threatened to swallow Lando whole and he’d barely spent more than a handful of seconds in your orbit.

He leaned against the door frame leading into his office, the sound of your laughter drifting through the walls. He had been used to the constant travel that was required of drivers of his caliber, having spent most of his teenage years on the road but all that time, he always had someone with him. His father, mother, manager. Someone that was ‘in charge’ of him and his schedule.

Now though? Now everything is different. He’s of age, a driver in the pinnacle league of his chosen sport, and totally alone. His friends are either jealous of his success or away at school and Lando often finds himself spending the entire weekend alone in his little flat down the road from the MTC. He was happy, of course, ecstatic that he had been given this chance by McLaren but the truth of the matter was, Lando Norris was quite lonely. 

As the image of your face flickered through his mind, Lando felt the tight grip of anxiety ease just a little bit. There was something so open about the way you had greeted him, something about how easy your laugh seemed to come, that told Lando that you were a good person, someone that would somehow be very important to him this year. 

“That is your teammates sister, mate.” Lando mutters to himself as he pushes off the door frame, making a beeline for the sim rig that was on the other side of the MTC, hoping that the time spent focused on racing would be enough to get your image out of his brain. 

April 2019 

Baku City Circuit 

“Lando, I swear to God if you’ve slept in again I’m ordering fish whenever I eat with you for the rest of my life.” 

Somewhere between Australia and China, you had morphed into not only Carlos’ personal assistant but also the assistant and babysitter of sorts to his stupid, idiotic, hilarious teammate. You adored the boy but most of the time he drove you to the brink of absolute madness. 

“I didn’t sleep in! My alarm didn’t go off!” Lando groans, breathless on the other end of the phone. 

“That is literally the same thing. I have one simple job here, Norris: get you and my brother to where they belong during race weekends and right now? You’re making me look like an amateur.” 

“I just got into the paddock, relax darling, no one is even remotely close to being fined by the FIA. I’ll be on the fan stage in five minutes, meet me there?” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you desperately try to will away the Landache, the term you’ve come up with when you get a headache caused by the Brit. “Fine.” You breathe. 

It’s your fourth race of the season and while Lando and your brother were seemingly hell bent on driving you to an early retirement, you had never been happier. Managing the busy schedule and life of now two Formula 1 drivers had come naturally to you. Engineers and mechanics in the garage were always a little in awe of your ability to keep the two drivers in line and where they needed to be when. The communications team at McLaren loved you because sometimes, you were the only one who would be able to get the Carlando, as the duo was coming to be known as, to behave. 

It was total chaos pretty much all of the time but you were thriving. You and Carlos were closer than ever, working tighter like a well oiled machine. But Lando and you? You two were the textbook definition of Partners In Crime. While you were the picture of professionalism on the track and during business hours, you were the other half of the chaos gremlin duo that terrorized half the grid. 

Right now though? Now the chaos gremlin was the perfect paddock princess that had to make sure her best friend and brother got to the right places on time. You round the corner of the back stage area, desperately searching for the mop of wavy brown hair covered by a papaya colored hat. 

“Lando!” You call, relieved when your dark eyes catch with a familiar pair light colored eyes. Today, they were an icy blue thanks to the bright desert sun of Baku. “I didn’t think I had to add ‘alarm’ to my list of race weekend duties.” You grouse, brushing at the dust on his team polo. 

Lando shakes his head, easy smile spreading across his face. “Am I late though?” 

You glare at him, “No.” You huff. 

“I would never make you look bad, pretty girl.” He winks and your stupid stomach does its traitorous little flip that it’s been doing lately. It’s disgusting. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“And please welcome to the stage, McLaren drivers Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris!” The presenter calls from behind Lando’s shoulder, interrupting your sparring match. 

Lando gives you a wink before spinning around following your brother up the stairs of the stage. 

July, 2019

Germany 

“That was my fifth DNF this year.” The pain in Lando’s voice sends your stomach twisting. You follow behind him, hands wringing together, as he stalks down the hallway of the hotel in Germany. The race had finished up hours ago but Lando had just been released from media duties a bit ago. Carlos had been caught up in some post-race meetings so you had hitched a ride back to the hotel with Lando instead but now, as you followed his stiff frame stalk down the hall, you wondered if that had been a good idea. 

“Lando, it wasn’t your fault. Your car lost power, it’s not like you binned it into the wall or anything.” 

Reaching his room, Lando stops and pulls out the key before letting himself in. He leaves the door open though, indicating he wanted you to follow him. “I know that.” He groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. The hotel room is pretty normal where hotels are concerned, 2 queen sized beds dominate the space with a large flat screen tv on the opposite side. Lando flops down on the farthest bed, his eyes closed. 

“I’ve barely finished in the points yet this season. Haven’t had a sniffing chance at a podium. I feel like such a fucking fraud.” 

You had stopped just inside the door, wanting to give Lando some space as he had his tantrum but now, seeing how truly upset he is, you cross the carpeted floor and sit down next to your best friend. “Lan.” You coo, running your fingers through his hair, knowing how the scratches from your nails relaxes him. “Lan, it’s okay. You knew coming in, just like Carlos, that McLaren is in a bit of a rebuilding stage. This isn’t unexpected.” 

The problem with Lando is that he is utterly too hard on himself. You had clocked the fact quickly, by the time you had been landing in Australia for the first race of the season, you knew he needed to work on his confidence. 

“I know. I mean, I don’t know but I know that you know and I trust you enough to know that you know what you know is right.” 

Your head spins. “Pardon me?” 

Laughter spilling from your lips pops the bubble of tension in the room, Lando unable to keep the smile off his face either.

“You heard me.” He gripes, sitting up. “And I know -” He stops, glaring at you when you double over with laughter once again. “I know you understood me, you cheeky monkey.” 

“I’m sorry but I’m just so terrified by the fact that I did understand that whirlwind of a sentence and can’t decide how to process it.” You say, chest heaving from laughing so hard. “We’ve been spending too much time together.” 

Lando grabs the remote from your hand before turning on the movie you had both fallen asleep to last night before the race. “Are you going to be mean to me all night, or are we going to finish this movie?” 

You roll your eyes, but toe off your shoes before settling against the headboard of the bed, shoulder bumping with Lando’s as he joins you. “Pizza or sushi for dinner?” You ask, grinning because you already know the answer. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Love you too, Lan.” You counter, pulling out your phone to order some pizza. 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16

*as always, if you want to be added to the tag list, leave me a comment or send me a message*

[sirfrogsworth]

Meeting my longtime artist and good friend, Chris, IN REAL LIFE!

So, I hadn't been to a restaurant in over a decade. I can't even remember which restaurant since it was so long ago. But in the past few weeks I've now been to TWO restaurants.

I am becoming a social butterfly. 

And it is exhausting.

But also good.

First I reconnected with my high school best friend, John.

And that went great.

But then the opportunity to see my friend Chris (a.k.a @whosthewhatnow ) came up only a few days later. And this close proximity of social events scared me a bit, but I have been feeling much better since they figured out my heart thing, so I decided to try and do both things even though they were only a few days apart. 

The key to this was strategic resting. As soon as I got home from seeing John, I got in bed and I didn't get out of it until it was time to see Chris. And that was just enough recovery time to pull this off. Typically a short outing requires 2-3 days of rest after. 

I had never met Chris in real life. He has done nearly all of the artwork for my website and comics over the past decade. And he was a main character in my CRAPPRnauts series.

We know each other so well and it is crazy that we've never seen each other with our very own eyeballs.

He is such an amazing artist. He works fast and he adds so many cool extra details that you can stare at his comic panels multiple times and catch a new joke or easter egg each time. He is a dream to work with and my Corg Life series was only successful because he did such a wonderful job bringing Otis to life in comic form. 

So we decided to meet up at a restaurant with his friend Michael and then I was going to take a nice portrait of him after dinner. Chris had never had a professional photo taken of himself and I decided to fix that.

I told him I had a mobile photography setup. Which, in reality, is a trunk full of lights and stands and other various camera gear that I definitely won't need, but bring anyway. It's "mobile" in that it all fits in my car if you are good at Tetris (which I am).

The restaurant was downtown and I had visions of St. Louis's famous Gateway Arch in the background of Chris's portrait. I thought that would be such a cool shot. I could see it in my head and I even dreamed about it.

So I got in my car and headed downtown and my GPS told me to exit at 249B. But I kept looking and I couldn't see the sign for 249B.

This is how much road I had left when I finally was able to see the exit for 249B.

So I ended up taking 249A and going straight to East St. Louis.

Which, if you believe the headlines, is not a place you ever want to be.

Google Maps and I have been having issues lately. They also tried to get me to take the spooky way home that night, but thankfully I actually knew the non-spooky way back from when I used to go to Cardinal games with my parents as a kid.

My short term memory was trashed by shock therapy. And so was a lot of my long term memory. But it finally came through in a pinch and remembered something useful.

I only had to loop around and cross a bridge so I didn't really do anything but touch the edge of East St. Louis. I was mostly concerned about being late for dinner more than its scary reputation. Usually those news stories about a place being "dangerous" are actually just racist and hurtful to people stuck in poverty. I mean, technically my house is in a "dangerous" neighborhood, and we do have trouble with petty crime in some spots, but aside from a few dinged-up mailboxes, I've never felt unsafe in my home.

On the way back to regular St. Louis I could see the Arch on the horizon at sunset and it was kind of magical. And I wasn't able to get a good shot of it, but it sure looked pretty from my point of view. 

My photos kind of remind me of the beginning of movies like Training Day where they are trying to show you gritty, dutch angle shots of the city out of the car window to give you a sense of the location.

As I approached the restaurant I invented a new genre I call "stoplight photography." The sky was orange and the streets of St. Louis were just asking to be photographed. But I wasn't willing to die to get neat photos, so I just took them at every red light.

The big trick was trying to edit the dark area at the top of my windshield out of the photos to make it look like I didn't take these pictures from my car.

After a 15 minute detour through Illinois I arrived at my destination—a Mexican place called Rosalita's. It had a beautiful sign, so I took that literal sign as a metaphorical sign it was a nice place to get a quesadilla. 

Dinner was great. Both signs were right and their quesadilla was very tasty. Chris and I both got one, so we are quesadilla twins. The waitress was one of those "I can remember your order without writing anything down" types. And I am one of those, "I get anxiety when things aren't written down" types. And, to her credit, she did not forget our orders. But she did forget to give us silverware and napkins. So I still feel like my anxiety was valid. 

We told sad stories of the pups we lost. But we also had a lot of fun and laughed and I got to meet Michael who turned out to be an absolute mensch. I sometimes have trouble meeting new people with my social anxiety, but he was very affable and made me feel comfortable with his presence almost right away. He was a fan of Otis and mentioned he still has a Super Otis shirt. I always get choked up hearing that Otis is still loved. Hopefully we get to meet again. 

Dinner ended and it was picture time.

I asked Chris if he wanted the high effort photo or the low effort photo. Either we figure out how to get to the Arch or we find a spot near the restaurant and just take his portrait there. Chris and Michael had a driver because they were coming from a big conference and getting to the Arch would have been complicated. So we decided to go with the low effort option. 

I found a cool shop nearby that had an LED wall that changed to all sorts of different colors. And I thought that would make a neat background and give a colorful edge light on Chris's face. I pulled my car near that spot and started unloading my trunk full of photo gear.

I think Chris and Michael were a little overwhelmed when I started pulling camera gear out of my trunk like a clown pulling an endless handkerchief out of his mouth. But as far as photo setups go, it was actually pretty minimal. 

Light, giant battery, light stand, umbrella, tripod, camera, rolling walker with seat.

My dad's old rollator came in clutch because I wanted to shoot from a low angle and it is hard for me to bend down. In fact, I think I'm going to look into getting an all terrain version so I can do more outdoor photoshoots.

I started shooting in the middle of a downtown sidewalk. And I was super anxious. I could not focus (my brain, not my camera). I was very distracted with all of the people walking by and staring. I was not sure if any of the photos were turning out. I wasn't even sure if they were in focus (my camera, not my brain) because I had not yet had my lens calibrated. But down the street there was a guy with an old school boombox playing random music. His music helped to drown out the ambient noise and gave me some comfort.

I had no clue if the photos were any good, but when I got home and checked them on my computer, I realized I have 12 years of experience and muscle memory built up. I probably should have just trusted myself because the photos all turned out great.

I think Chris can now officially say he has had a professional portrait taken of himself.

This photo has been officially loved by Chris's girlfriend and mother.

There is no greater seal of approval and I am honored.

I was able to comp in any of the colors the wall displayed from other shots in case Chris is feeling a little more green in the future.

A literal rainbow of options.

I also liked this one, though it is a little more "environmental portrait" than regular portrait.

And I got some nice photos of our little group to help us remember the night. 

And I got a bunch of photos of Chris making silly faces like Calvin at his school photoshoot. 

I love this woman's reaction to our little impromptu sidewalk photo shenanigans.

After we said our goodbyes and I gave my friend a hug, I was a little bummed I didn't get to photograph him at the Arch like I had dreamed.

But then I realized I had my own car and it was capable of taking me places. (I actually haven't gotten used to that after not driving for nearly 15 years.)

So I decided to drive a few blocks over to Kiener Plaza—a park with a view of the Arch. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

[tonyspank]

WHO?

Warnings: GN! Reader, fluffy + my poor attempts at humor

Summary: You find out who Jenna Ortega is.

You stand in front of your kitchen counter, watching your monitor as your viewers load into the Twitch chat. You smile watching the chat fly with questions and comments. "Hi, guys!" You wave at the camera, fixing your apron. "Be grateful I'm even streaming this because it was so difficult to get my setup in the kitchen."

You move from the counter to your camera, adjusting it a bit. "There," you mumble to yourself, glancing over to the chat again. "Happy Anniversary." You read off the chat, beginning to smile, "Thank you!"

@coolasacucumber where's babygirl jenna

@teamed28 anniversary??? TIME IS FLYING BROOO

@Versalcool171 why they look kinda cute in that apron

@TggthegreatRede HIIIIII

You move back to the counter, "Jenna isn't here, she's out doing something. But that's good because I'm surprising her with dinner for our anniversary! I have a table set up and everything on our balcony." You tell your viewers. You then look around the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients you need.

Soon a donation message pops up on your monitor and the bot begins reading it aloud. "What does Jenna's farts smell like?"

You pause your movements, standing completely still for a few seconds before moving again. You ignore the question, acting as if you never got it, but the smile on your face gives away your amusement. "Uh, anyway."

You break the silence and continue with your task. You lift up a salmon, "I'm cooking salmon, rice and broccoli for bae." You look up at the chat, watching thousands of reactions appear on the screen. You begin seasoning your salmon with a mixture of herbs and spices, and then place it in the hot pan.

Another donation rings through, "Can you tell us the story of how you met Jenna? I love you so much by the way." You chuckle and reply, "I love you too! Sure, once upon a time..." You say dramatically, laughing at your own joke.

"I was streaming, you know? The usual, then I got a donation."

TWO YEARS AGO

You watch as your screen shows victory, winning another match of Overwatch. Leaning back in your chair, you listen to the donation ringing through your headset. "Have you watched the new Wednesday show on Netflix?"

You furrow your eyebrows as your eyes are fixed on the screen. "Nah, I haven't. Like Wednesday Addams?" You laugh and tilt your head, waiting for the next match to start.

As you wait you decide to check the chat.

@Yuanycat530 Jenna Ortega's in the show

@zenocentric you gotta watch it for mommy jenna

@Momismme3600 its sooo good stg

@amburntfreemansgf MASONS WATCHING STREAM

You sit back up in your chair, adjusting the hat on your head. "Who?" You begin chuckling, completely confused about what your Twitch chat was talking about. "Guys I don't know who Jenna Ortega is."

Suddenly, a flood of messages appear, all talking about Jenna Ortega and the new show she's in. You close out of Overwatch and start sharing your Google to the stream, typing in Jenna Ortega.

You quickly learn that Jenna Ortega is an actress and you begin to recognize her. "Oh, shit. She was in Scream 5 with Mason and David?" You turn your head to the chat before glancing back at the search.

You smile to yourself as you remember the movie. You search in Instagram, looking up Jenna's username, before following her and beginning to scroll through her posts. She was absolutely beautiful; you shock yourself as you can't believe you could forget someone so stunning.

@y/nsdirtysock NOT HER BLUSHING

@amburntfreemansgf IS THIS JOE GOLDBERG?

@mrsasfjerEgads SHES SMILING HELLA HARD

You're knocked out of your daze as your phone begins ringing. You fumble around for your phone, trying to answer it before it goes to voicemail.

You answer it and it's Mason, facetiming you. Mason's face lights up when he sees you. "Why are you going through Jenna's Instagram?!" He laughs and you join in, showing the camera Mason.

"Bro! Chat asked me if I watched her show. I forgot who she was!" Mason grins at his screen, "How could you forget Jenna Ortega?" You shrug and laugh, "I don't know!" Mason laughs again before he places his phone down on his desk, you do the same, rubbing your hands down your face. "Mason join me on Overwatch."

Mason raises an eyebrow, considering the offer. "Sure, but you know I'm bad at this." You smile, loading Overwatch back up. "It's okay, Daddy will carry you." Mason chuckles and playfully rolls his eyes. "Alright, let's see if you can actually carry me this time." Moments later, Mason is in your party, taking a sip of his water.

"My chat says, how did Jenna's profile look?" Mason grins reading off of his live chat on his own screen. You pick an operator, shaking your head. "Tell your chat to stop harassing me," you joke, your smile never fading. Mason chuckles and raises an eyebrow. "Oh, they're just curious. I still can't believe you forgot who Jenna is!"

"Dude! It completely slipped my mind,"  you admit, shrugging. Mason chooses his own operator before walking over to your character and using the "Hello" command. You watch as Mason's character waves and greets your character on the screen. "Imagine if you joined me on Saturday," he says playfully.

His eyes then widen, and he says, Oh, my god, you should join me on Saturday." You can hear the excitement in his voice as he continues, "It'll be so fun, swear, and! And Jenna will be able to make an unforgettable impression." You shake your head, watching your character run to the point.

"Are you trying to play cupid?" You joke, laughing. Mason chuckles and replies, "Well, maybe just a little. But seriously, it would be great to have you there. I'm sure everyone won't mind."

You raise an eyebrow, considering his offer. "Alright, I'll come." You finally agree, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm. Mason grins triumphantly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Awesome! You won't regret it, I promise," he says, glancing at his chat, leaving you wondering what kind of unforgettable impression Jenna could possibly make.

You huff out when D.Va kills you, leaning back in your chair as you wait to respawn. "Chat. If someone gifts 100 gifted subs, I'll tattoo Jenna's face on my buttocks." You joke, a small smirk on your lips.

Mason chuckles, clearly amused by your playful banter. "Hey, don't underestimate the power of your chat. Who knows, you might end up with a masterpiece on your backside," he teases, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You laugh along, secretly hoping that no one takes your joke too seriously.

However, as you continue playing, a notification pops up on your screen indicating that someone has indeed gifted 100 subs. Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Ain't no way!"

A FEW HOURS LATER

*jennaortega started following you*

You rise from your bed, clicking on the Instagram notification that pops up on your phone. Ain't no fucking way.

Jenna - So...Saturday? Will a portrait of my face be on your butt?

You - you would like that wouldn't you?

Jenna - I'd prefer somewhere everyone can see Jenna - Maybe your forehead is a better spot

You - lol, how about we get matching ones then? You -that way when we kiss we can really make it look like we have four eyes

Jenna - Kiss? Who said anything about kissing? Jenna - I'm not that kind of girl 🤨

You - oh, so what kind of girl are you? ;)

Jenna - The kind that doesn't appreciate these cheesy pickup lines

You - ooh, dairy free You - completely understandable You - from now on i will acknowledge that

Jenna - xxx-xxx-xxx Jenna - Text me on IMessage

You - yes ma'am! 🫡

Reacted ❤️ to your message.

ONE YEAR LATER

"Chat, I'll let you know I just woke up. Don't mind this..." You say, motioning over your face, as you try to rub the sleep from your eyes. "Sorry if I seem out of it. It takes time for my brain to boot up."

You don't notice the way your chat freaks out about the hickey on your neck, as your focus is still on trying to fully wake up. The hickey, a remnant from last night's passionate embrace, remains unnoticed by you for now.

@h5therx is that a mf hickey

@TheGrapeNinja WHO WAS SUCKING ON UR NECK

@twizzy1 @TheGrapeNinja BLOOD THIS AINT EVEN MY NECK????

"Valorant, or Overwatch?" You ask, finally glancing over at your Twitch chat.

You notice a flurry of comments in the chat, with some viewers teasingly pointing out the hickey on your neck. You pause, staring at the chat, before quickly covering your neck with your hand, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Brooo, I didn't even know I had this," you mutter sheepishly, rubbing your hand over your neck.

The chat explodes with laughter and playful comments about your unexpected love mark. "Is she going to hear a word out of me." you mutter to yourself, talking about your girlfriend as you begin realizing that even the smallest details don't go unnoticed by your loyal viewers.

"Enough about my hickey! Pick a game!" You jokingly yell at your chat, reaching for a hoodie to cover up the mark. As you put on the hoodie, a donation comes through.

You pause for a moment, glancing at the donation message. "You said you were going to play Sims last stream. Don't worry about the hickey, we're just excited to see you play!"

You chuckle at the comment, grateful for the support and understanding from your viewers. With a smile, you reply, "Alright, alright! Sims it is then! Let's be delulu and create our dream life."

You start up the game and glance over to your chat. "Have you guys ever, like, gone to bed with like a thought or try to preload your own dream? Like, I be going to sleep with a specific idea or scenario in mind, hoping it will manifest in my dreams. It's like I'm trying to program my subconscious to create the perfect dream."

You pause, waiting for your viewers' responses, curious if anyone else has tried something similar.

@ricoottv Yes bruh I be dreaming about Gal Gadot dominating me fr

@24kGoldenRing @ricoottv 😨😨😨

@QuannMeline YESSSSS

As the chat starts flooding with responses, you notice that many of your viewers have indeed experimented with preloading their dreams. Some share their success stories, describing how they have had incredible adventures and even found solutions to real-life problems in their dream scenarios.

Others admit to having mixed results, with some dreams turning out exactly as they had hoped while others took unexpected turns. Excitement builds as everyone exchanges tips and techniques, eager to unlock the full potential of their dream worlds.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one." You chuckle and begin creating your Sim, carefully customizing every detail to make them as close to your ideal self as possible. You then put your face-cam side by side with your sim and ask, "Do they look like me?"

You wait for responses from your viewers, trying not to laugh at the potential comparisons they might make.

@tuneskixx it looks like u if u were mentally unstable

@47SH5T Y/N if they were off crack

@k0hjuh EWWWW

@Shaun Why the sim kinda 😍

"Me if I was off crack? Nah, that's wild." You say, rereading one of your subs chat. "Go to the gallery and find your love interest?" You read off, raising an eyebrow. Intrigued, you decide to take a break from creating your Sim and explore the gallery to see if there's a perfect match waiting for you.

There's a search bar, and without hesitation, you type in "Jenna Ortega." You eagerly scroll through the results, hoping to find a Sim that resembles Jenna Ortega.

Some of them look like her, and the others are far off, but you settle on one that seems to capture her essence the best. Excitedly, you click on the Sim and download it into your game.

"Guys, why does this actually look like Jenna?" You exclaim, unable to contain your excitement. "Yoo! They even have her cleft chin. But to be honest, Jenna doesn't really have a cleft chin, it only appears when she smiles or makes certain facial expressions."

@amburntfreemansgf nah bro a Jenna Ortega specialist

@AlexVsJay "jenna doesn't really have a cleft chin it only appears when makes certain facial expressions" 🤓☝️

@Shaun @amburntfreemansgf LMAOOOO

After adding a dog and cat to your household, you start your sim life as Jenna Ortega, her being your wife. You immerse yourself in the game, navigating through your and Jenna's daily activities and adventures.

"What the fuck!" You shout at the screen, your chat begins to fill up with messages at the sight of what's happening.

@mynames_jeff POV last night

@amburntfreemansgf sorry y'all jenna thought that was me 😅

@ricoottv OMGOMG

"Ya'll, I didn't tell them to do this! They real life just hopped out of the hot tub to make out." You tell your chat, watching as your sim and Jenna's sim kiss passionately. The unexpected display of affection between the sims surprises and amuses you, causing your chat to explode with laughter and comments.

You're so immersed in the game that you don't notice Jenna creeping into your room, a plate of cookies in hand.

@amburntfreemansgf BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL

@n6huh JENNA?????&1'

@t8lyer_44 I KNEW THEY WERE TOGETHER

@AlexVsJay Y/N has now becomepublic enemy #1

She sets the plate down on your desk, causing a wave of delicious aroma to fill the air. The smell wafts towards you, distracting you momentarily from the chaos happening on the screen.

You jump when you turn your head and see Jenna standing there, a smile on her face. Your eyes widen as you shut off your camera. "I'm live!" You say, forgetting that your stream can hear you. Jenna's eyes widen.

You two have been dating for quite a while, but you didn't tell anyone about your relationship.

"Do you think they saw me?" Jenna asks, her voice filled with concern. You shake your head before shrugging, "I don't know, baby. Shit, this is my fault. I should've told you I was live."

A donation rings through, catching both of your attention. You glance at the screen to see a message from a viewer, "Uhhh...the mic is on. Anyways, hi Jenna!" Jenna's face flushes with embarrassment as she realizes that your viewers heard everything.

Your jaw drops, and you decide to turn the camera back on again since it seems like the damage has already been done. You take a deep breath and address the viewers, "Well, I guess there's no hiding it now. Yes, Jenna and I are dating."

Jenna looks at you nervously, unsure of how the viewers will react. You continue, "We wanted to keep it private for a while, but that was kind of difficult." Jenna sits on your lap, waving at the camera. "Hi, everyone." You chuckle nervously, trying to ease the tension.

"We hope you all understand why we wanted to keep it quiet," you add, trying to reassure both Jenna and the audience. "But we also didn't want to hide something that makes us so happy." The viewers' reactions start pouring in, a mix of surprise, support, and curiosity.

Curiosity also makes its way to your and your girlfriend's faces as your Sims start to Woo-hoo in the hot tub. "Is...that us?" Jenna asks, her eyes widening with a smirk playing on her lips. You cover your face with your hands.

"Ain't no way, bruh." You mumble to yourself.

Another donation rings out, "DON'T ACT LIKE YALL WASN'T DOING THAT SAME STUFF LAST NIGHT. WE SEEN THE HICKEY!"

"AIN'T NO WAY!" You shout dramatically, causing Jenna to burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound.

[kjupchurch-xx]

The Interview - Tumblr Request from 08/17

As I walked into work, I was stopped by my boss, who informed me that we had a celebrity she needed me to work in for today's segment. Due to the revenue that Deadpool & Wolverine had pulled in, I wasn't shocked when she told me we would be expecting Hugh Jackman to stop in today. Ryan Reynolds was originally coming, but had an emergency with one of his children.

I walked into my dressing room and got myself put together, making sure my button down blouse and black skirt looked flawless. I triple checked my messy up-do and my make-up, fixing it about three times and still not being completely satisfied. 

"He's here, he'll be coming to you in 5." My cameraman said through the door. 

"Okay." I called back before checking myself in the mirror once again. 

I quickly stepped out, seeing Hugh and my boss walking down the hall. Fuck, he's sexy, even at 55. I avoided them, making a beeline for the area the interview would be taking place. I assessed the area, making sure everything was perfect. Due to the last minute setup, there was no script. It would all be 100% ad-libbed. 

"Hugh, this is your interviewer, the phenomenal, miss Kaitlyn." My boss said with a smile, bringing him up to me. 

I smiled, extending my hand to shake his, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackman."

He smiled, grabbing my hand and kissing it, "Call me Hugh." He said with an accent. 

My boss smirked, "Do not hold back on Mr. Jackman with your questions. We want this to be a viral interview. Let's break the internet." She said with a wink. 

Hugh and I chuckled as I tried hiding my blush from him kissing my hand, "Understood." We said in unison. 

She walked off, leaving us a minute to ourselves before the camera started rolling. I quickly looked at Hugh, "If I do ask a risque question you're not comfortable with, we can edit it out." I said with a nervous smile. 

He smirked at me, "Nothing's off limits, darling." He said with a wink. 

I chuckled slightly, "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Let's have some fun." 

I cocked my head at him, in shock. I figured a person with the career he had built would be a bit more reserved. This should be fun. 

As I led him to the two couches we'd be sitting on for the interview, I couldn't help but notice his gaze on my legs and backside when I'd turned back to ask if he was ready to begin. He quickly reverted his gaze to my face as he noticed he'd gotten caught gawking. 

I took a seat on my couch, as he plopped down onto the other couch across from me. My cameraman gave me a nod to let me know we were rolling. 

"Boy, do I have a surprise for you guys today!..." I said enthusiastically towards the camera, "My guest today is none other than Mr. Hugh Jackman from the new film, Deadpool & Wolverine." I said with a wide smile as the camera panned out showing Hugh in the view. 

"How are you, gorgeous?" Hugh asked, looking at me with a smile. 

I giggled, "I'm great, how're you?" 

He smirked, "You know, I'm good... I'm really good, but I'd be even better if you were on this couch with me." His voice sounding a bit flirty. 

I chuckled as he continued, "I'm feelin' a little lonely with Ryan not here." He joked as he patted the seat on the couch beside him. 

I moved from my spot on my couch over to his, "Ready for some juicy questions?" I asked him, wigging my eyebrows playfully. 

He bit his lips, nodding his head slightly, "Do I get to also ask you juicy questions?" 

I smirked, "We'll see. It depends on how satisfied with your answers I am." 

He smiled at me and cockily stated, "Oh babe, I don't doubt I can make you feel satisfied." 

I covered my mouth as it was gaping a bit, which caused him to chuckle. He quickly threw his arm over my shoulder, looking at me, "What's your question?" 

I quickly regrouped myself and asked, "When doing a kissing scene, is it important to make it look realistic or keep it professional?" 

He giggled at me, "Who says I can't do both?" 

"Can you?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. 

"Would you like a demonstration?" He asked, a sly smile on his lips. 

My boss did say we were breaking the internet with this interview. It wasn't televised, meaning everything was not off limits. That always made things interesting. 

I chuckled, "You're not going to kiss me."

He smiled cheekily at me as he leaned towards me, placing one hand on my chin as his other hand rested on my cheek. "The key to a good kissing scene, is you always leave the audience wondering if the physical connection is real." He said lowly as his eyes gazed from my eyes, to my lips, back up towards my eyes as his face got closer to mine. 

I couldn't help myself and began biting my lip in anticipation. I could feel my palms growing sweaty and my core starting to heat up. "You ready, Sweetheart?" He asked with a low voice, barely above a whisper as I slightly nodded for him to continue. Before I could react again, his lips met mine. 

His lips were soft and warm. I felt him slightly nibble on my lower lip as he pulled away. I took a deep breath as a pink blush appeared on my face, "How was that?" He asked cheekily. 

I laughed as I shifted on the couch, "That was...Pretty good. Do you kiss everyone that interviews you?" I asked sarcastically. 

He shook his head, "Only the cute ones." He said matter of factly. 

He answered a few more questions, mostly regarding X-Men, Deadpool & Wolverine, his recent divorce and his life as a father of two now adult children before we went back to the more juicier questions. 

"When is it my turn to ask you a question?" He asked, smiling devilishly. 

I shrugged, "Go ahead." I chuckled. 

He gave me a questioning look before smirking, "So, Miss Kaitlyn, do you know the difference between a French kiss and an Australian kiss?" He asked, trying to sound as if he were going to actually explain something to me rather than make a joke. 

I thought for a moment before shaking my head, "I don't think I've heard of an Australian kiss." 

He raised his brow at me, "Okay. So it's the same thing as your regular French kiss, except in Australia, it's done down under." 

My eyes widened as my jaw hit the floor, which caused him to laugh, "Cat got your tongue, Sweetheart?" He asked playfully as he noticed the shocked look on my face. 

I shook my head, slightly biting my lip, deciding to turn the tables on him. "My turn again." 

He looked at me, proud of his question considering my reaction, "Hit me with it." He said, crossing his arms. 

I smirked at him, "Some people call you Huge instead of Hugh." I stated, he looked at me, giving me a nod wondering where I was going with the question. "Is it because you're huge?" I asked, pursing my lips into a smile. 

He chuckled, clearly surprised by my bold question, "Do you wanna know?" He gave me a cheeky smile. 

I nodded, confidently, "I do wanna know." 

He leaned in closely, I could feel his hot breath on my ear as he whispered, "Meet me in one of the dressing rooms after we wrap."

I chuckled as I looked towards the camera once he pulled away, "I'm not at liberty to say." Then I playfully mouthed, "Huge" at the camera while trying to contain my laughter. 

We went through a few more questions regarding Wolverine & Deadpool, and also Ryan Reynolds before we wrapped the interview. Hugh quickly skipped off to his dressing room as I was stopped by my boss, who was pleased with the interview. 

"I can't believe you got him to kiss you! This is going to go great with our views!" She exclaimed happily. 

I laughed, shaking my head, "I was not expecting that." 

She looked at me, a smirk appearing on her lips, "What did he whisper in your ear about him being huge?" She asked. 

I chuckled, "He said he's a shrimp and you'd be very disappointed." 

She laughed at me, "Bullshit. You're going to fuck him, aren't you?" She asked, furrowing her brows in amusement. 

"Bye, Pam!" I yelled as I walked towards the dressing rooms laughing. 

"I want details! Real details!" She called out, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. 

I walked up to his dressing room door, knocking on the door. Was I supposed to knock or just bust in? Sleeping with my guests was something I'd never done, but ever since the kiss, I knew I wanted more. He was driving me crazy with his little remarks during our interview, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

The door opened in front of me, it was a smiling Hugh, "Oh, so you do want to know?" He said playfully, amusement dripping from his voice. 

I giggled and decided to play around with him, "I was only coming to thank you for being my guest today." I said sarcastically. 

He moved to the side, motioning for me to come in his dressing room. "You're so welcome, love." He said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. 

 He knew why I was there. He sat down on the lounge that was in the dressing room, kicking his feet up on the ottoman and looked at me, "Join me, I promise I don't bite hard." He smirked. 

I blushed as I sat beside him, "FYI, I don't kiss my interviewers, but you were looking too damn cute." He said, looking at my cleavage. 

I chuckled, "I don't normally kiss the people I'm interviewing, but you're sexy as fuck and I wanted to know if you were a good kisser." 

He smiled cheekily at me before he reached over, pulling me onto his lap so I was straddling his lap. "This what you came to my dressing room for?" He smirked, gazing into my eyes as he gripped my onto my hips tightly. 

I bit my lip, looking at his, "Maybe...Is this why you invited me?" I asked him. 

He giggled as he began unbuttoning my blouse, revealing my black lacy bra. I ran my fingers into his hair as I leaned down, kissing him and helping him discard my blouse. Our kiss was much better than the interview kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, biting at it with his teeth before his tongue began dancing with mine as his hands explored my breasts. I could fee his excitement growing under me. 

I lifted myself up slightly as I began toying with his belt, he pulled away, mumbling against my lips, "Eager, aren't you?" 

I chuckled, "Research purposes." I said trying to remain serious as he helped me undo his belt, unzip his pants and pull his rather...large member out. I bit my lip as I saw it. He was rock hard and had veins protruding from his shaft. He was above average and deliciously thick. I couldn't decide if I wanted him in my mouth or inside me. 

"Research purposes..." He was becoming increasingly amused by my wit, "Like what you see, baby?" He bit his lip, as he pushed his hips upwards towards me. 

 I licked my lips, still gazing at it. I pushed my thong to the side as I lifted myself over him, sinking down on the length. I could hear him gasp as he entered me, while I gasped at the size that was stretching me perfectly. I felt his hands grip my hips tightly as I began bouncing on him. He moved one hand to my breasts as he pulled my bra down and began nibbling and sucking on my nipples, causing me to whimper as he began pushing his hips upwards to meet my bounces. 

I threw my head back as I ran my fingers through his black hair that was becoming quickly disheveled. "Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned against my breasts. "You ride my cock so well, love." He groaned. 

I could feel myself begin tightening around him as I felt him start to throb inside me. "Shit, I'm gonna cum." I moaned, as I tugged harder on his hair as I sped my bouncing up. 

"Cum all over me, baby." He moaned as he started thrusting his hips harder upwards. 

His words and his accent made me come undone. I could feel the throbbing of his cock, he was almost there. "Get on your knees." He demanded lowly. 

I quickly hopped off of his lap and assumed the position on my knees in front of him. He grabbed himself and sat up from the couch and began stroking in front of me as his moans became louder. Watching him stroke his cock was making me ready to go again. I pulled my bra down further, grabbing my breasts and squeezing them for them. 

He let out one loud groan as he threw his head back and began covering my breasts in his cum. I bit my lip as I watched how much pleasure it brought him. 

After he finished, he quickly stood up and grabbed a towel, handing it to me. "I'm sorry about your blouse." He chuckled. 

I giggled, taking the towel, "Don't be. I'm sure it'll sell on TikTok shop." 

He laughed, rolling his eyes at my humor before pecking my lips. 

[gaylordscooter]

One Year of This So-Called Hell

It's been awhile since they've started living at the castle. They've grown used to it. They wouldn't call it their home or call each other their housemates, but they certainly thought of it like that.

However, despite how long they’ve been here, they still have yet to get acquainted with Nightmare. They were all casual with each other except with him. For obvious reasons, including but not limited to the fact he kidnapped them all and puts them through grueling situations from time to time.

Though, that latter reason has diminished over time. They didn't know if he was running out of ideas or what, because recently these situations have become akin to game nights. Quite literally they would play some board game or card game. It was kinda fun. None of them were going to complain though, even if they found it odd.

But today something especially odd happened. Not only was there a breakfast setup for them when they arrived at the kitchen this morning, Nightmare himself was at the table.

At first none of them said anything to him. Then Killer decided he couldn't stand the silence and said a good morning that was directed at everyone.

“Good morning, Killer,” Nightmare responded in a formal tone. He took a bite out of his pancakes. The three were watching him in disbelief as he chewed and swallowed. He looked up, taking note that none of them were making a move to sit down. “I hope the food isn't that bad. It took me a few tries to make something decent.”

“you cooked this?” Horror asked in surprise. He shot a skeptical look at the food. He's never messed with their food before, but he wouldn't be surprised if he started now.

“I made an effort to. There are no eggs as I couldn't extract the edible part without getting the casing mixed up in it.” He continued to eat, trying to show the food wasn't tampered with.

Killer shrugged and pulled out a chair to sit down a few chairs away from Nightmare. He grabbed a plate and a few pancakes. He quickly inspected the food before dousing it in an ungodly amount of syrup and began to eat.

Nightmare couldn't help but stare at Killer's soul as they ate, as weird as that was. He was transfixed by the shape. It was different, much more reminiscent of a proper monster soul rather than the usual target.

“hey, bud, my eyes are up here,” Killer said.

Nightmare's eye snapped up as if he was a child that was caught holding a knife. He noticed that Killer’s eye sockets, which were usually empty, had ringed eyelights at the moment, but usually he’d only have them when he was experiencing intense emotions—often negative. He didn't sense any negativity from him at the moment.

“whatcha lookin’ at?” he questioned despite knowing the answer.

Nightmare felt the other two’s tension and wariness. “Your soul's different,” he noted.

Killer’s posture relaxed a little. “oh, yeah. it's been that way for a bit.” He glanced at the other two, silently pleading them to stop standing in place awkwardly and to actually join them at the table.

Fortunately, Horror read his mind and made a move to sit down, prompting Dust to as well.

“May I ask what it means for it to look that way?” Nightmare implored.

Killer seemed taken aback by the question. His smile went crooked, at least more than usual and he slouched as if to cover his soul with the table. “am i allowed to say ‘no’? you kinda already asked.”

“You need not answer,” he responded. He dropped the topic; the question made Killer uncomfortable and he would rather not drive him away.

Dust and Horror were finally beginning to eat. Nightmare was almost worried they’d never start.

“i’ll tell you if you answer two of my questions,” Killer eventually said, to his surprise.

Of course he’d turn this into a bargain. “Ask away.”

He noticed that piqued Dust and Horror's interest.

“what’s up with the breakfast? you've never done this before.” Killer said.

“I can be nice, once in a while.”

Killer scoffed, rolling his eyelights.

“And it's a special occasion. It's been a year since I first brought you all here,” he added. He debated doing something like this in the first place. His relationship with these three was unusual. He was their tormentor; their personalized hell. At the very same time, he was their provider, in a way. He’d bring them food, water and shelter, things normally a parental figure would do—even though he was everything but that.

Horror laughed dryly, “how nice, a breakfast to celebrate a whole year after you kidnapped us to treat us like your toys.”

However, as far as he knew, he was nothing but a demon and that was exactly how they saw him.

His brother was an angel, and he was a demon. That's just how things were.

“second question, why haven't you ever messed with our food?”

Horror’s expression soured as he glared at Killer like it was a warning.

“it'd be pretty effective torture, right?” He continued to eat despite the topic at hand.

“It’d be effective,” he agreed, “but only once. Afterwards, Horror would be too far gone to do anything with.”

Horror dropped the fork he was holding with a clatter. His smile was tense and nearly a straight line.

“you’d still have me and dust, though,” Killer said.

“you little shit—”

Killer turned his head to Horror revealing his serious expression to him to silently tell him, no, he's not giving him ideas. He's trying to get information.

“Killing or irreparably harming any of you would be a major inconvenience, that is why.”

Killer stood up and leaned towards Nightmare, putting his hands on the table. “you said we were easily replaceable,” he remarked.

“I said there were many like you, not that you were easily replaceable,” he corrected. He didn't like where this conversation was going. “I answered your questions, now answer mine.”

“fine,” Killer huffed, sitting back down and crossing his arms. “i don’t know,” he said.

“What?” Nightmare said in a low rumble. Was he tricked? He didn't take kindly to the notion that Killer was going back on their deal. His tentacles flicked irritably.

Horror, noticing the ends of them sharpening, decided to speak up, “he doesn't. at least, he doesn't know what causes it.”

His tentacles relaxed, no longer threatening to lash out at Killer. “Do you feel any different?”

Shouldn't he already know that?

“oh he sure feels different,” Horror said.

Killer shrunk in on himself, trying to look invisible. Embarrassment. Shame? Guilt.

Why was it suddenly harder to discern his emotions?

“I want to hear it from him.” His eye bore into Killer.

Killer groaned, bordering on a growl, “you’re telling me you haven't felt a difference? actually, i’m surprised you’ve kept me around before, considering i didn’t feel anything.”

Nightmare's eye widened.

He didn't feel anything before? That wasn't right. He could sense his emotions the whole time. That's how he found him in the first place. As far as he knew, he wasn't like Ink either. It was very clear he had a soul.

“You did feel before. That's how I found you,” he insisted.

Killer narrowed his sockets. Anger. “i was only acting, until recently. none of it was real.”

He could feel bitterness coming from Dust.

Killer frowned, risking a glance at Dust. “but it is now,” and it’s terrifying, “and it’s weird.”

“How long has it been like this?” He knew Killer was getting annoyed at all the questions but he couldn't just drop it now. He didn't care if he was getting annoyed.

Killer had the audacity to stand up.

“Sit back down,” he ordered.

“i don't need to answer you. i don't need to follow your orders. i'm not your pet,” he spat as he roughly pushed his chair in, making the table jolt.

“You aren’t,” he sighed as Killer stormed off. His eye darted to Dust and Horror. They hardly ate anything.

“it’s been fluctuating ever since we got here,” Horror said once Killer left. “but recently it's been staying that shape.”

Nightmare was surprised at Horror’s willingness to share that information. “I’ve been sensing fear from him recently.” It didn't take a genius to find out that it was connected. “But there's also been positive emotions—coming from all of you, actually.”

Horror scoffed in a way that sounded like a laugh, “call that stockholm syndrome.”

He did not know what “stockholm syndrome” was, but from his knowledge he knew that the word “syndrome” had negative connotations. Did he inflict a disease of some kind on them without knowing?

He stood up, picking up his plate with one of his tentacles that stretched over to the sink to place it down. “I will be taking my leave now. Thank you for humoring me.” His body melted into the shadows and he was gone.

Horror shook his head, “what a weirdo.” He put a few more pancakes on his plate and resumed eating.

Dust refrained from eating, merely picking bits from his pancake and dropping it back down on the plate.

“so…how are things between you and killer?” he dared to ask. It's been about a week since they had that fight. The two were avoiding each other. Well, Dust was obviously avoiding him. Killer just made no attempt to approach him—at least to his knowledge. This led to Killer spending more time with Horror, and honestly, he has no clue how Dust has tolerated this guy for so long.

Dust made a guttural noise that was basically a growl.

Though it was a clear show of his discontent, Horror couldn't stifle a chuckle.

That only exacerbated Dust’s sour mood. He stood up.

“hey, wait,” Horror said. “you hardly ate anything.”

“not hungry,” he signed.

Horror looked unconvinced. “that's bullshit and you know it.”

Dust sighed and picked up his plate.

“c’mon dude, don't go wallowing in your room.”

“don't play therapist,” Dust muttered.

“someone in this castle needs to stay level-headed. you didn't answer my question.”

“what do you think?”

“i think…that killer’s an asshole and you're right to be pissy, but you two should probably talk,” he suggested. He gave him a serious look, “he's driving me insane, dust.”

“it's all he’s good at,” he said bitterly.

“c’mon now, that's not true.”

Dust didn't even have to say anything.

“ehhh. we still care about him anyway,” Horror said.

Dust was mad that he couldn't refute that without lying.

Nightmare found Killer outside in the forest, he was nearby a make-shift shelter he made for the stray cats that lived here. It took him an embarrassingly long time to find him because he wasn't in the castle, but him being outside for once was a welcome change. Since he wasn't holed up in his room it meant Nightmare didn't have to worry about intruding on his private quarters.

Killer loudly groaned when he noticed Nightmare. He ignored him and continued to watch and pet the cats.

Nightmare remembered how terrified Killer was when he saw him hanging out with a bunch of cats. He thought he would harm them—he was so sure that he instigated a fight to protect them. Once that was resolved, he started going outside much more often just to see the cats. He was still tense whenever Nightmare was near them, however.

“Have you named them yet?” Nightmare asked.

“what’s it to ya? waiting for me to be more attached to them so you can rip them away from me when the time’s right?” Killer snapped. He didn't take his eye off the cats.

There were six of them, each of them having various colors and patterns. He was surprised Killer could take care of that many, considering he couldn't take care of himself.

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully, eye skimming over the group of cats. “I was merely curious, usually people name things they look after.”

Killer scoffed, “you named dust and horror.” The brown cat rubbed its head against his outstretched hand.

“Yes.”

“you don't ‘look after’ them.” He gently scratched the chin of the cat. It was purring.

“Depends on how you define ‘look after’. I definitely monitor them.”

“no shit,” he snarked.

“i also supply food, water and shelter.”

Killer frowned and stood up. The cats meowed in protest. He faced Nightmare. “what are you getting at?”

“You see me as needlessly cruel, as if I’m incapable of doing kind things,” he replied.

Killer laughed forcefully. It startled the cats, making them retreat to their shelter. “what? suddenly feeling like you deserve sympathy? i don't give a shit if you do kind things. that doesn't change the fact that you tortured us.”

Surely none of it was worse than their situations in their old universes.

“Right. Forgive me for digressing, but what, pray tell, is ‘stockholm syndrome’?”

It seemed like Killer found that question humorous. “you trying to do that to us? is that what your deal is?”

Frankly, Nightmare had no idea what Killer was talking about.

“you start being all nice and dandy to make us think ‘oh he's not all bad. i actually enjoy being here’.”

“You do,” Nightmare pointed out, “enjoy being here, I mean.” He could sense that clearly.

“fuck off. you don't know that for sure,” he said bitterly.

He couldn't deny the utter contempt Killer held for him.

He dipped his head. “I apologize.”

“you what?” Killer said incredulously.

Why was he apologizing? He was deceiving him. He had to be.

Nightmare didn't know what he was doing. He's hardly bothered to show remorse. There wasn't any reason to start now. Except, after seeing the companionship between the three, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

He wanted connection. It was pathetic to admit, but the only person he was close to was his brother. Was.

How cruel of the multiverse to allow him to yearn for something he wasn't allowed to have. He couldn't help but try to get what he wanted.

“For choosing you three to inflict pain upon, I apologize. You don't deserve it yet I do it anyway.”

“i don't deserve it?” Killer said. “hah! who the hell am i talking to right now? you really nightmare?” He strode closer to Nightmare and thrust a finger at him, poking him in the chest.

Nightmare was shocked by the sudden contact.

“y’know, you and me are pretty similar in some aspects. we don’t have the capacity to care and yet we're pretending we can anyway. you can't fool me. i know you're just trying to manipulate me with that apology.”

Nightmare took a minute to respond, scanning over Killer’s feelings and expression. Again, he was hard to read, like he was able to obscure it. He wasn't trying to manipulate him. He really wasn't. But he supposed he hasn't been upfront enough with him to believe that. “Do you recall when we encountered Fresh for the first time?”

Killer snarked, “what about it?”

“I could've left you, you said.”

“you didn't save us out of compassion, you just needed us for your stupid plans or whatever.”

“But you thought you were replaceable. Which one is it?” he countered.

“it's whatever's most beneficial to you,” he retorted. “you said it would’ve been a hassle.”

He did say that. Nightmare was stumped. He didn't even know where he was trying to go with this. It wasn't like he could make Killer’s hatred towards him disappear.

Maybe he could make Killer’s self hatred go away.

Why did he think that? Did he want that? That wouldn't benefit him.

Maybe he was sick of the feeling of hatred, like loneliness. Like being sick of having the same food over and over again.

He felt something down by his tentacles. He tried to hide his surprise but he hastily looked down to see one of the cats nudging against one of his tentacles. It was the brown one that cuddled Killer a moment ago. Nightmare froze.

“hey!” Killer barked and knelt down to shoo the cat away from Nightmare. “baked beans, i told you not to get near him,” he scolded the cat.

The cat meowed out a whine.

Killer frowned and stood back up as the cat walked away.

“‘Baked beans’?” Nightmare echoed. “Is that its name?”

“don’t hurt her.”

“You are awfully insistent that I’m going to hurt these cats. Has anyone told you about self fulfilling prophecies?”

Killer decided to take that as a threat and drew out his knife.

Nightmare made an attempt to seem less threatening, having all of his non-essential tentacles tucked away. “I’m not going to hurt them, Killer.”

“you're lying!” he shouted and pointed his knife at him. “i’ve seen it happen. you're going to do it, i know it! you're just trying to get my guard down.”

He’s seen it happen?

“Are you having nightmares, Killer?”

He didn't answer.

He couldn't reason with him now, he supposed. Nightmare decided the best course of action was to simply leave. He sunk into the ground.

Killer frantically scanned the area, taking a few minutes until he confirmed that Nightmare did indeed leave. He knelt down, curling in on himself as he sighed. The cats walked back over to him.

Nightmare reappeared in the kitchen, startling the two skeletons that were currently on the couch of the other half of the room.

Usually they wouldn't be startled at his appearance. At least, not anymore. He caught sight of the drinks in their hands, they seemed to be similar. He scrunched his eye in disgust. “What the hell is that?”

They were surprised at his language. Usually he didn't express surprise like that, or at all. Dust and Horror looked at each other as if neither had an answer.

Instead of verbally answering, Dust thrust the drink out. Was he offering it to him?

Nightmare got closer to inspect it. When he reached out to grab it, he saw the two’s sockets widen. He brought it up to his face, the goop covering his mouth melted away as he took a sip.

Oh god. That was awful.

He refrained from spitting it out and managed to brute-force his way into swallowing. A whole shiver rippled throughout his body, and it didn't help that it literally made the goo on his body ripple for a bit.

Horror and Dust remained painfully silent.

Nightmare calmly handed the glass back to Dust. “It's horrible,” he deadpanned.

“he was just trying to show you it, not…” Horror didn't even have to finish his sentence.

Oh great, he misunderstood. He didn't even have to drink that. It was painfully obvious he was embarrassed, even after he covered his mouth once more. “Why do you drink such awful concoctions?”

Dust shrugged, wiping the rim of the glass with his gloves before resuming the consumption of that horrific beverage.

Nightmare refrained from showing his disgust. He moved over to one of the chairs near the couch to sit down. All of his tentacles disappeared, revealing the rest of his cloak that covered most of his legs.

Dust spat his drink out while Horror gawked.

Nightmare flinched, “What?”

Dust gestured at the lower half of his body.

“you have legs!” Horror exclaimed.

“Of course I have legs!? I’m a skeleton like you two.”

“you’re a skeleton?”

Nightmare realized how little they knew about him. “What did you think I was?”

Horror scrunched his face, unsure how to answer. “not…a skeleton?? what's up with all the slime then?”

“I suppose you could call it melted parts of my own body fused with a surplus of magic. Would you care to see how I look without the ‘slime’?”

Horror was very confused at his willingness to be open about this. Which was fair. From their point of view, all of this was coming from nowhere.

Dust, however, immediately signed “yes.” It seemed like his curiosity trumped his confusion.

“Alright,” he said. He focused, shifting his energy into one concentrated point: his forehead. The usual glowing cyan crescent moon on his forehead grew into a full moon as the goop on his body disappeared, revealing white bones with a blue tint to them underneath.

The silence that came after was deafening. The way Horror and Dust looked at him felt different. It was like they saw him as a different person like this.

Sure he was less menacing in this form, but he didn't think he looked that different.

He did. He totally did. He was even smaller like this. He was probably shorter than the two if he were to stand.

“you look so young…” Horror said.

He didn't like the tone of his voice. Maybe this was a mistake.

He quickly changed back to his usual form. The dark goo flowed out from the moon like a waterfall until his whole body was coated in it once again. He immediately felt more comfortable. He decided he was never going to do that again. “As I said, I’m a skeleton like you two.”

“you’ve mentioned you had a brother, does that mean—”

“My brother is not a Papyrus, no. He looks just like me. I did not have a world like yours nor was I ever like you. In fact, I did not even have a world.”

Horror blinked at the onslaught of information. He just learned more about him than he ever has the entire year. “you're pretty chatty today.” About yourself, he meant.

“I suppose it's the torture for today.”

“torture for us or for you?”

At this point, what was the difference? Nightmare thought, but it went unsaid.

Once Dust finished his drink, he got up to put the glass in the sink. When he tried to go to the hallway, Nightmare opened a portal underneath him to get him back on the couch. He glared at Nightmare in protest.

“Dust, I know you and Killer are having some…complications right now,” he said, completely changing the subject. “Although it's provided plenty of energy for me, you two can't avoid each other forever.”

“but wouldn't that benefit you?” Horror questioned.

“I’m not going to risk Dust killing him out of anger.” That wasn't even an exaggeration considering their game of Monopoly the other day. He had to physically wrench them apart when Killer made him bankrupt. “Go make up with each other.” He summoned a portal underneath Dust, sending him to the forest where Killer was.

Dust managed to land on his feet, luckily. He didn't want to fall on his face right in front of Killer to give him something to laugh about.

Killer damn near screamed at his sudden appearance, but he played it off by coughing into his hand when he realized it was just him. Now all the cats around him were skittering about frantically. “miss me that much you had to drop by?”

Dust was completely unfazed by his pun, leaving Killer to awkwardly laugh at his own joke.

“‘m pretty proud of that one,” he mumbled as if to voice disappointment.

Of course he was proud, it was a miracle whenever he could think of a pun on the spot. It was something he was oddly insecure about, not being able to come up with jokes that well.

Dust supposed it was a reminder that he was hardly “Sans” anymore. It seemed like such a small thing until you thought about it. Dust knew he’d use humor to cope or to cheer people up. It was second nature, a skill polished throughout his life, even. To suddenly lose that ability…he wondered if Killer looks at his past self and sees a stranger.

“you just gonna stand there and stare at me like i stabbed your soul?”

While he wasn't skillful at punning, he sure was great at handcrafting every sentence he says to annoy him.

Killer’s cheerful facade dropped, “seriously, are you? i’m having a moment with the cats.”

Is that what he's been replaced with? Cats?

Even though Nightmare ordered him to make up with him, he really didn't feel like talking at the moment.

He wondered what Killer would do if he just continued to stand here in silence. Knowing Killer, he won’t be able to just ignore him.

Yet he turned around to face the cats. He knelt down to pick one up—the one with a pure brown coat—that one was his favorite. He named it something stupid but Dust couldn't remember it off the top of his head at the moment.

He just kinda held the cat for a little while, petting it in silence.

And then after a bit he stopped. The cat whined at this and hopped out of his arms.

He sighed. “i…i’m sorry, okay?” he finally said.

Pathetic, he couldn't even face him when he said it.

“i shouldn't have messed with you like that. i thought you were playing along. i forgot that…i refused to believe you really did care about me and it took you stabbing my soul to get me to realize.”

He had to pause as his breath shuddered, probably trying to keep himself composed. He still hasn't turned around or stood up for that matter.

“i don't know if i can care about you back. i care now, but,” his voice wavered, “you’ve seen how unstable my soul is. at any moment it’ll just snap back to the same old shape of a target and then boom, nothing! a pillow could care about you more than me.”

“i think all i’d do is hurt you,” Killer said. He turned his head to look at him, “you wouldn't want that, would y—woah,” only to see Dust right in front of him, crouched down to be at eye level.

Killer raised a brow bone, having zero clue where this was going.

Dust put a hand on his own chest and then gently brought out his soul.

Killer’s eyes blew wide open.

It was odd, seeing a normal monster soul for the first time in awhile. Well, it wasn't entirely normal. It was pale white, covered in cracks, and an unusual dim glow of red outlined the edges. He could guess where that came from and it wasn't LV.

Before he could ask what his deal was, Dust spoke, “get your knife.”

Oh, HELL no.

His own soul (metaphorically) jumped out of his body at the instruction. He immediately knew where this was going and he did not like it.

“no!” Killer objected. “the hell’s gotten into you? i’d kill you!”

Dust looked as calm as ever. “you're scared,” he noted.

“of course i…” Killer furrowed his brow bones. “you’re trying to prove a point aren't you?”

He saw Dust’s smile curl up. Bastard.

He held his soul out to him as if it wasn’t the culmination of his being. “hold it,” he said.

Killer stared at it, dumbfounded. “i’m not gonna—”

“forget the knife. hold it,” he repeated, apparently switching his approach to this.

Killer shakily held a hand out, allowing Dust to place his soul in it.

He dare not move, as if it was a motion sensor bomb. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop himself from trembling.

He shifted his gaze from the soul to Dust’s eyelights, unsure of which one to look at.

i could kill him. all i’d have to do is squeeze my hand shut. it’d be so easy. would it pop?

He didn't want that. God, he didn't want that at all.

“you're not going to kill me,” Dust stated like he was so sure of himself.

“i could.”

“do you want to?”

“god no.”

“and my soul’s still fine,” Dust remarked.

“what the fuck are we doing, dust?” Killer asked, looking at the soul in his hand in disbelief.

“i dunno, trust exercise?” he offered as an answer.

“pretty intense trust exercise,” he chuckled half-heartedly in an attempt to ease his tension.

“and stabbing your soul wasn't?”

“i wouldn't call a murder attempt a ‘trust exercise’.”

“you know i didn't want to kill you,” he reminded.

“right. you want your soul back now?”

Dust gave a nod.

Killer carefully handed his soul back to him. A moment later it was back in his rib cage.

He let out a sigh of relief, keeping his gaze on Dust to ensure that he hadn't become his namesake. “we chill?”

Dust smirked. “we chill.”

A portal to the kitchen opened near Killer and Dust immediately after.

They could see Nightmare and Horror sitting on the couch looking right at them. Nightmare was slowly clapping in a mocking manner.

“were you two watching the whole fucking time?!” Killer barked. He threw his hood over his head to cover his blushing face.

“Not the most conventional way I’ve seen two people make up,” Nightmare remarked. “It was certainly interesting to watch.”

“my life's not a goddamn sitcom, asshole!”

Nightmare guffawed. He was fucking with him and it was absolutely working.

Killer crossed his arms and pouted. He gave Dust a “can you believe this guy?” look.

Nightmare’s laughing ceased suddenly, “Hurry up and get inside. I have something to give you three.”

“oh, goody, is it a bomb?” Killer asked sarcastically. Despite his sass, he stepped through the portal alongside Dust.

“No, actually.”

A portal opened on the ceiling between Nightmare, Horror and them.

A shopping cart with a huge pile of clothes on it crashed down onto the floor.

It took Killer a second to realize those were the same clothes they left that time they went shopping, when they first encountered Fresh. He reached down to pick up one of the articles of clothing, they were still in fairly good shape. “how the fuck?”

“That is Killer’s gift, of course.” He looked at Dust. A wrapped present appeared in his hands. “As for you, I wasn't quite sure what would be appropriate for you.”

Dust cautiously took the present.

“how come he gets his gift all fancifully wrapped?” Killer complained. He was currently trying to get all the clothes back in the shopping cart. Alas, the pile he made the first time was a one-time feat.

“Because he's less annoying.”

Dust tore the wrapping paper and opened the box that was inside. He looked at the contents inside blankly.

“what is it?” Killer questioned.

Dust reached inside to take it out and show them.

Killer and Horror’s sockets widened as that familiar red-orange came into view.

It was Papyrus’s cape.

Nightmare was unsure what reaction this gift would get. He's seen other Sanses from Dusttale universes wearing it. It supposedly had sentimental value.

It seemed that Dust was also unsure how to react. There were conflicting emotions, Nightmare knew that much.

He carefully put the cape back in the box and signed a “thank you”.

“As for you, Horror,” He held out what appeared to be a rock at first.

Horror inspected it, realizing it was a phone—his phone. He was irked by the idea of Nightmare going to his home universe just to grab this. At least, he hoped he didn't do anything but grab this.

However, the phone might as well have been a rock. He doubted Nightmare knew the phone wouldn't even work. The thing hasn't been charged in years.

And then it caught him off guard by ringing. He flipped it open, seeing the words on the screen indicate that the call was coming from his brother.

He tried to stop his hopes from getting up. He reminded himself this could be a prank call and it wasn't his brother at all.

“Go on, answer it,” Nightmare urged.

This had to be a prank. Papyrus’s phone wouldn't be able to work there was no power—and even then he was in a completely different universe.

He answered the phone.

“SANS!” Papyrus’s voice immediately rang out. “FINALLY, I THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER ANSWER! YOU’RE ALIVE! OH MY GOD YOU’RE ACTUALLY ALIVE!” He sounded on the verge of tears.

“bro?”

“YES, SANS?”

“just checking that it's actually you and not a prerecorded message,” Horror managed to say. The smile on his face grew as it became genuine. He saw Dust and Killer watching him in his peripheral vision.

“I COULD SAY THE SAME THING. I WASN’T SURE THIS WOULD EVEN WORK!”

“how are you calling right now? was the core fixed?” he dared to ask.

“OH. UH, NO. ABOUT THAT…” Papyrus trailed off going quiet for a minute.

“what happened?” His grin faltered slightly.

“DO NOT FREAK OUT.”

“you're gonna make me freak out if you don't tell me what happened.”

“OUR WORLD WAS KINDA DESTROYED, BADLY.”

Horror’s eye socket went blank. “what?!” he shouted.

Papyrus was quick to clarify, “BUT I’M DOING FINE! ACTUALLY, WE RELOCATED TO A MUCH MORE HOSPITABLE PLACE! SURE OUR HOUSE AND THE ENTIRETY OF SNOWDIN IS COMPLETELY GONE FOREVER BUT THERE’S FOOD HERE AND MAGIC AND I CAN CALL YOU! SPEAKING OF WHICH—WHERE IN THE WORLD HAVE YOU BEEN!?”

Horror sighed in relief. He glanced at Nightmare, who looked eerily indifferent to all of this, before he answered his question. “i kinda got kidnapped by an otherworldly entity, sorry bro.”

“YOU AND YOUR WEIRD HOBBIES, WARN ME NEXT TIME. I THOUGHT YOU DIED. THE ENTIRETY OF SNOWDIN DESCENDED INTO ABSOLUTE CHAOS WITH YOU GONE—ALSO THE WORLD-DESTROYING THINGY PROBABLY PLAYED A ROLE IN THAT TOO.”

“aw geez, is everyone else okay?”

“YEA, EVEN UNDYNE.”

Horror’s expression soured at the mention of her. “well, that's great,” he said sarcastically. He vaguely heard someone else on the other side of the call. From what he heard it didn't sound like anyone he knew.

“OH, ALREADY?” Papyrus replied to the unidentified person. “I SEE,” he sounded disheartened. “BROTHER, I NEED TO END THE CALL NOW BEFORE IT TEARS A HOLE IN THE MULTIVERSE.”

“huh?”

“I’LL SEE YOU LATER, LOVE YOU!”

“love you too,” Horror managed to say before Papyrus hung up. The second the call ended he felt incredibly drained. He felt like he got a mental whiplash when he looked at the room he was in.

Killer seemed to tune out the last bit of their conversation as he managed to get all the clothes piled back on the shopping cart. It seemed like Dust helped him.

Nightmare was also looking at those two rather than at him. He wondered if he was eavesdropping on the phone call or not.

It's been an entire year since they've been here. He had no idea how much longer this would last. He didn't even know what would happen after.

“I will be out for the rest of the day,” Nightmare announced, opening a portal behind himself. “We are stocked up on supplies, correct?”

“you got it, chief,” Killer piped.

“Not my name…” Nightmare muttered before leaving.

Killer sighed the moment the portal closed, looking up at the pile of clothes. “i have no idea how i’m getting this to my room.”

“bet you can't get it to your room by the end of the day,” Horror said, still recovering from that call.

“hey. you're totally wrong.”

Horror shrugged, “time's ticking.”

Killer then decided that pushing the cart would be an effective way to get it to his room. To his credit, it wasn't until he was met with the obstacle that was the doorway to the hall that his plan became flawed. He turned his head to Horror. “so what are we betting exactly?”

[gyuswhore]

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!! 

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.  

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should  should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you” 

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular  evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.  

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.  

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.  

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

“She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again  “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

[marshmall]

For mimic!sans it's very hard to put everything together at once, and I chose to put it up a little bit in advance because it's going to take a long time. He needs too much explanation.💀

This will probably be deleted when the setup disclosure of perfect mimic!sans is complete.

Yes, it's a new official Character art that I drew to organize later.

MIMIC! SANS

- He doesn't like his name. Who wants to describe themselves as "mimic"?

- It was not observed accurately. However, it is smaller than other sans. On average.

- His legs are not the same length.

- He is a wanderer who belongs to outcode. In fact, he saved so many SANS. But he describes himself as a wanderer.

- His soul exists, but it doesn't exist at the same time. If you're asking exactly what you can specify, it's the one that doesn't.

- The smoke above his head moves like smoke, but it's actually something between a liquid and a solid. Like rubber.

- His right eye doesn't exist. It's a soul that's replacing the right eye. It's not his representative soul. It's made of his body parts.

- He's been alone for a really long time, so he's learned emotions and languages by himself. He feels significantly less emotion than others. It's not that he don't feel emotions. Therefore, he expresses his feelings more strongly and pretends to feel the same as others.

- His usual personality is a little immature. It's the same as the reason for the emotion. So, just like his emotions, he's just 'mimic' like that, the he's not a real personality.

- His right eye and smoke melt when there is no soul in his eyes. But melting doesn't affect him.

- When his right eye is empty, that is, when smoke flows down, he loses the memory as much as it does. So it makes him impossible to be himself. He won't want to 'mimic' his personality and emotions from this point on.

- The soul in his eyes disappears when he feels strong anxiety or a strong physical shock.

- Even with his hat, his acting is not covered.

- He can't read long texts because he didn't learn to write from anyone. Short writing is possible. Maybe, he doesn't understand from line three.

- He can't taste it, so he can only judge the taste by the texture. Don't trust his food. He learned to cook from the Papirus... x3

- He is, on average, a little weaker than other SANSs. Can't you feel it just by looking at the size of Milky? XD

- He can turn into other SANSs at any time, but he doesn't even bring the ability. However, if he have a they soul, he can also imitate their abilities. At this point, he prefers to wear the soul on his necklace.

- He periodically appears to have lost his memory. It never happened naturally. He loses his memory by doing something.

- No matter how connected he is to all SANSs, he doesn't identify them as soon as he meets them. No matter how much you feel all SANS' lifetimes at the same time. It would be impossible to remember it all.

- He understands and respects all sans, but at the same time he doesn't understand and doesn't respect, he doesn't make an attempt to understand. Because they didn't understand him either.

- He rarely feels pain. Maybe it's... It's probably been dulled by the pain that you've experienced for a very long time. But he's afraid of the damage. It affects the soul in one's left eye.

- He's probably been around for a long time... No, it's probably the soul that existed from the very beginning.

It's really long, but his setup hasn't been fully organized yet. Because it's very hard to explain him... In fact, he just wants to be regarded as a harmless and stupid sans!

[pien-art]

-FAQ-

Hello! I've gained a whole bunch of followers lately and I've been getting a lot of questions about commissions, what my setup is, what brushes I use, etc, so I thought I'd make a post about it to answer everyone's questions at once !

Putting them under the cut <3

Commissions:

Commission prices are listed in my pinned post. You can send me a private message about your commission idea and we can get to talking :) It is helpful to have enough references handy (character, outfit, descriptions etc)

I am generally a fast drawer but I also have a job and a physical disability so there might be moments I can't work on your commission. But that is never longer than a few days at most.

Payment is upfront, the full amount and via paypal only. I know this might seem a bit scary but unfortunately there are a lot of people who end up not paying for commissions and I want to avoid that.

During the process I will send you frequent updates and will ask for input, to see if it is going in the direction you want. You can ask for changes during the sketching progress but once I've started on line-art and coloring, no big changes will happen. (You can for example ask for a different color for a shirt etc, but not for a different prop or pose or expression)

When it is completed, I will send the drawing to you via email. The drawing will remain mine and it is not to be sold or profited of by the person who commissioned me. If the commission is for something commercial/for selling, that needs to be discussed. I prefer to do drawings only for personal use!

For more questions, my dms/asks are open :)

How long have I been doing digital art:

I've been drawing digitally for about 5 years now i think? But before that I've been drawing and painting traditionally literally since the moment I could pick up a pencil.

Set-up:

It's just me and my ipad and apple pencil laying on my bed. I wouldn't even know where to begin for those whole multi-monitor/screen setups ;-; I draw only with Procreate

Brushes:

I tend to play with different brushes from time to time to get different textures, but generally i use the same few for most of my drawings/styles. My favorite one is the Peppermint Brush, for sketching. I use it in every drawing i make! I always sketch with it, and often do the line-art with it as well! And it makes for a nice textured brush for rendering as well! (i used it for a lot of rendering of the armor in this drawing)

The (procreate) brushes i use a lot are

for medieval style: inking - Ink Bleed (for line-art) artistic - Quoll (for coloring)

for general style: calligraphy - Chalk (coloring/rendering) sketching - Peppermint (line-art/sketching)

for realism: calligraphy - Shale Brush (full rendering) Also using the shale brush for smudging and erasing when drawing realistic

for lineart: smooth pencil from this pack by Heygiudi

How/why do you choose a base color:

I tend to look at a few different things when deciding on a base color/color palette.

the overall color of the reference pic

the color i associate with who or what i am drawing

the feeling/vibe i want to give off with that drawing

color has a BIG impact on the vibe of a drawing, so it is something i keep in mind when im drawing.

Using a color as a base to start, helps a lot with my drawing process. It helps me pick out other colors so they match better. It helps me get light/dark values right. And the chalk brush i use, has gaps between the strokes, so the base color will always come through a little. Having the same color come through in the entire drawing, helps pull all the colors together if that makes sense? I always start with a solid base color when i am painting traditionally as well!

Advice:

PRACTICE!!! just keep drawing and practice. I know this is such generic advice but truly practice is The Way. Learn from other artists but don't compare yourself to them. Everyone's artistic journey is different and there's no "good" or "bad". And most importantly make sure that you have fun when you're making stuff :3

I also learn a lot by studying art I admire and love. Figuring out what it is I like about it. (for example, the line thickness or the shapes or texture etc), and try to incorporate that in my own style in a way that is not directly copying or stealing.

[ineffable-opinions]

A Banned BL Series and A Banned BL Sub-genre

GaoGan (High Cadre, 高干) is a sub-genre of danmei, unique to BL from Mainland China. It involves characters who directly hold high position within the Communist Party (be it the political wing or the People’s Liberation Army) or are related to such characters.

Works belonging to this sub-genre was fairly common in the first decade of 2000. Now it's a banned sub-genre and we will get to the specifics of it and how that works.

A little bit about the society in which this sub-genre was created. Back then both Communist party members as well as military members could get away with pretty much anything. Society back then was a little bit more open to such practices and consequences for their actions were very limited. There was very little civilian oversight, so to speak. This meant that not only sons and daughters of high cadre but relatives including extended kin, held positions of power.

Naturally, it became a problem. For the State, I mean.

A lot of leaders now are kids of leaders from the past. They also hold in immense sway in all fields, both business and bureaucracy.

They can bag tenders and participate in those public private partnership projects and reap profits while outsiders would struggle. Laws could be bent and broken and no one could do anything to them. People suffer because of that. But you cannot really go to the police against them. Yeah, pretty messed up.

It is in this context that Addicted (你丫上瘾了) by Chai JiDan (柴鸡蛋) was first serialized. But it is in no way an extreme or a quintessential gaogan danmei. It's basically campus story in the first half with basic coming of age elements, highschoolers falling in love and lot of it is smut too.

But the threat of what their futures hold because of who they are especially Gu Hai, being the only son of his father who is a General, looms large even in first part. This is underplayed in the series compared to the novel.

Gu Hai grew up in that environment of power and reach. A lot of his rough nature is a product of such unbridled power that followed him from the cradle. His father is domineering. He is similarly domineering but with a holier-than-thou “kind” heart. He rebels against his father’s nature. He doesn't want to be the kind of person his father is. He is at the risk of becoming the monster he is fighting. He is extreme in his means, just as his father (and his late mother) and a bunch of other people such as Gu Yang and Gu Hai’s maternal uncle.

It is contrasted with how gentle and amicable Bai LouYin’s father and stepmother are, and how their lives are completely different. They don't really take any extreme steps and always pave path to reconciliation.

While Addicted sort of shows the contrast, it is not the highlight. There are novels which were written in the beginning of the millennium that showed extreme versions – focused on showing how bad it could get - be it of people getting away with that they should not get away with ideally and all sorts of bad things happening to people who have no control over their lives when it comes to people with power.

Corruption, nepotism and exploitation of power clearly are not good practices. The critique in Addicted is not on the face. It's very subtle. You need to understand what exactly is going on to understand the politics of Addicted. It is not just a random parent being despotic parent. It is because of very specific social setups. Gu Hai can coax, coerce and buy his way into changing public schools in the middle of semester, get Bai LouYin’s father a good job, treat officers on lower rungs as his personal servants and get things to work in his favour all because of the power he holds by just being General Gu’s heir. No one would dare to report his overreach because no one wants to offend General Gu lest he is less favorable to them in their time of need. Bai LouYin can avail benefits of switching schools and such since he is Gu WeiTing’s step-son.

What would give Gu Hai more power than being General’s son? Being a high cadre member himself. But doesn’t want that. From the beginning of the novel, Gu Hai rejects the military environment he grew up in. He doesn’t want to pursue his father’s footsteps.

Bai LouYin learns this when he pries into what Gu Hai wants to do with his life. Gu Hai makes it clear that he wants to pursue business. Bai LouYin dedicates his life to make that possible for Gu Hai. He does so by means joining PLA and thereby becoming his step-father’s protégé. In exchange, Gu Hai is free to live a free life. When he sets up his own manufacturing business, it is directly linked to supplying to the military and thus the exploitation of his connections that gives him a definite edge over his competitors from less privileged backgrounds continue – now as Bai LouYin’s brother too. So, he actually gets to become a rich man at a young age in his own right. It's not just Gu Hai whose business flourishes thanks at least in part to influence. Gu Yang and Gu Hai’s uncle (who seems to be powerful in his own right) too benefits from their connections.

It's something that Chai JiDan explores in a lot of her other works too, even though Counterattack and Advanced Bravely live action adaptations removed gaogan elements from turning characters into civilians.

That brings us to the de facto ban on gaogan. State doesn't want to encourage such kind of practices. It totally doesn't want it to be an aesthetic or a glorified romantic trope, especially in danmei.

Danmei actually have a mixed history with the State. Chinese government is notorious for crackdowns, jailing authors, shutting down websites, forcing self-censorship and purges that throttled danmei production and distribution. (More on this here.)

Lesser known is the part where State benefited from it. There was the shipping of real-life high cadre politicians.

Former Chinese President Hu Jintao and former Premier Wen Jiabao were shipped by fans. (source)

There were also the Little Pinks - groups of presumably (some critics argue that it is just a presumption) young women who are nationalistic verging on jingoism, who would endorse Chinese government and its policies on various platforms. They are called so because their brand of rhetoric first started in the danmei forum of JJWXC, a popular web-publishing platform. Little Pinks started out on this platform, scolding authors and readers who wrote what they didn’t agree with. They have pervaded other social media sites and are compared to the Little Reds of Cultural Revolution. Little Pinks captured public attention. They became quite an eyesore for the general public and other BL fans. But State machinery, especially its media, have showered them with praise on occasions.

State of things have changed over the years and there have been understandable public anger against the sort of behaviors high cadre politicians and their kin engaged in as well as the unfair advantage they enjoyed. The State had to curb nepotism and accumulation of power in the hands of those from political families. Exploitation of power couldn't explicitly depict or endorsed on media.  

The new rules are imposed through censors, self-censorship and editorial overreach and what not. Compared to earlier days of danmei, today’s BL production space looks very difference since sites have disappear. There used to be revolutionary potential, not just in terms of furthering the rights of the queer community but also in many other aspects of society. It has disappeared over the years through purging and authors growing tired. Popularization and commercialization of danmei actually did not benefit the way one would imagine. As BL fans’ grip over what they could say disappeared, a lot of new authors came in who from the very beginning were willing to adjust to these demands from the State and were writing to accommodate, if not outright support, what the State willed.

So, before the ban on gaogan, there was period where fics were written praising the high cadre and highlighting their goodness, generosity and patriotism while being perfect gentlemen, paragons of virtue, upright citizen who valiantly fought enemies of the State, both internal and external.

When it aired, Addicted was fairly popular. By his own admission, Andy Lau was watching it. While exact reason for the ban is not known, there is a lot of speculation. One of the most cited reasons is simply its popularity and how that attracting attention to queer people (through the pairing of a very masculine men who were unlike the stereotypical “sissies”) and queer rights.

Another was the substance abuse related words in title and ship name such as shangyin and hailouyin which is another topic that State scrutinizes. But then A Round Trip to Love had multiple criminal elements including spiking, confinement and sexual abuse that aired.

It's not like gaogan genre just died. Authors went interstellar on their stories. So now when you open Addicted in LCRead you will be greeted by an intro page which claims that the story is not set on Earth and is set in another galaxy blah blah blah. Lot of later authors actually decided to pursue the safe, sci-fi route and decided to stick to lanes that would let them tell these stories without actually irritating the State.

This work around method will last while it can.

Quite frankly, Addicted couldn't have been made in other countries with its very specific political setting. Its essence lies in Bai LouYin joining PLA to help Gu Hai forsake the path laid out for him and Gu Hai repaying with devotion while alternatively sinking and floating in high cadre life as son, brother and husband. This won’t work in countries with mandatory military service or where military and politics interweave in a dangerous manner.

Honestly, I am not knowledgeable about Thailand to interpret what it means for Hero to walk out of ror dor (army cadet) exam (thank you @pharawee for the explanation). Also, Thai government is fully dedicated to their plan of using BL as a soft power tool. I am not sure how to feel about the Thai adaptation, Heroin the series, given the production chose to situate the beginning of the story in 2018* (four years after 2014 coup d'état). Addicted becoming a propaganda tool in favor of military at the hands of any State is a disturbing scenario to say the least.

*There is a eight year break in the relationship between the main couple in the original novel.

Seems like second season isn't happening. Makes me wonder...

-

Link to novel translations.