#where are my wealthy relatives at :D ?

[miyku]

[lemonisntreal]

heyo! Just found your blog and I was scrolling through your stuff and noticed your AU tone deaf. And I haven't found anything about what it is or what your idea is behind it. So I wanted to ask if you could give me an introduction to your AU!

Oh! And I absolutely love your artstyle and how you draw Buster! Anyway, hope you drink enough water and have a good day/night! ;)

Dear god this has been in my drafts for a while-

Hiya! Sorry for that lack of info lol, I'd been inactive for a long time, and the time that I actually WAS posting consistently was back when things were still being sorta fleshed out. But I've got a pretty good idea of how every single part moves at this point, so sure :D I'll give a not-so-brief summary lol [under a cut because I couldn't not dump multiple paragraphs teehee ~_~]

--------------

Tone Deaf is like a dystopian version of Sing, if I were to put it super duper simply. One where Buster's issues get more emotional focus, and we get actual bonds with the cast because the movie forgot to do that.

Buster is, also, a lot more unhinged, fair warning. This fic's gonna contain violence and tackle some darker subjects [adjacent to grief and denial more specifically] so if it feels like I jumped a lot of sharks, it's because I 100% did.

It kinda started with me noticing how, in the actual movies btw, smaller characters like Buster and Mike had more difficulty getting around places. This led me to ask myself about how species differences could lead to struggles for certain animals since the city just isn't built for everyone [this is NOT Zootopia]. Ash's quills, and Meena's towering size were things I noticed too that would be massive problems, realistically. So after a lot of pondering, now we're here.

The world of Tone Deaf in present day is in a post-war period that's lasted about 50 years now [Crawly is actually a veteran from this war- which was more like complete and total anarchy if I'm being real, since there weren't really any sides until near the end...]

Long story short, the wealthy capitalized off of the war and taking people prisoner- so they purposefully kept it going. A resistance ended up forming to stand against this [Miss Crawly being one of the generals, with that classic missing eye] and after their army stormed the unsuspecting stronghold, the war finally began to conclude. It still took around a year after that to release all of the prisoners of war, and by the end of it all, the damage that had been done to some races was permanent. Even extinction-level in some cases- some animals just straight up don't exist anymore because of it.

Back to Calatonia. Laws that are in place to protect animals from tearing eachother apart are still relatively new, and the criminal underbelly of Calatonia is kinda out of control. Animals get kidnapped/poached, smaller animals are at a huge disadvantage and have basically no power [politically or otherwise], endangered species are a very real thing, poverty is a huge issue for most of the population- and in the middle of all this is Buster Moon.

He's gonna be the main perspective. And the story will also serve as a slight character study on him, mixed with my own grittier and batshit insane changes/headcanons/alternate universe ideas on his backstory. He's a ray of sunshine with a lot of bottled-up feelings that will kinda really take control of the story.

Buster has been arrested multiple times. He's been put in unsuccessful therapy. He's still grieving his dad. He's committing crime and compulsively lying about those illegal actions too. He has emotional difficulties that he hasn't dared try touching on in years, and he has issues with letting go- which, is kinda how all of his new problems come to be.

The threat of his theater being repossessed if his show isn't a success gets a LOT more emphasis too.

But on top of that is the added threat of Buster getting sent out of the city if he can't get his business up and running. Remember how I mentioned endangered animals?? Well Koalas are one of them. One of the big ones, actually. He's the only Koala in a city of almost five hundred thousand, and it's been that way for almost half a decade now. It's been causing issues for the people in charge for half a decade now. Koalas have government-protected settlements far away from here due to their numbers being so few, so if Buster loses the theater? That's the next step for him.

But, to help this poor dude through all the stress of life is the found-family he develops with the cast he hired. He helps them for a lot of the first act, and then they give back his kindness in the second. They connect through their similar experiences, as well as their shared passion for music and performance. And by the end, maybe Buster's okay. Or maybe he's had a complete downward spiral [not gonna speak of act three 🥰]

Other characters have also had a shift in their dynamics. Things in the story have changed. Like for instance- Gunter already knew Buster and was a close friend of him and Eddie before the show, Judith is now the mayor and a main character, Pete has been put in place of the banker in charge of Buster's accounts, Buster unfortunately gets involved in politics, Mike actually gets to bond with the cast- actually the cast gets to bond with the cast point blank period [idc what you say, this just straight up doesn't happen in the canon movies], and to top it all of is a generous helping of angst with a few acts of violence sprinkled in 🤭

The actual Act I summary is this right now:

Buster had been in tight situations before-- suffocating situations, even. He’d been in every kind of trouble imaginable, he thought. With family, friends, local businesses, the law. But he'd always wormed his way out, either through loopholes or by charm. Or usually just by stacking another lie on top of his already crumbling facade. But this time it's gonna take more than a cover-up to fix this. ‏‏‎ Buster’s dishonesty takes him too far once again, a simple typo causing him to unintentionally land himself in a wager that could cost his very life. He has two months to fix this- to ACTUALLY fix this. And the worst part is that he hadn't even meant to lie this time. ‏‏‎ The First Act of Tone Deaf.

TLDR; Buster learns to love again after experiencing the horrors of animalkind firsthand and being healed by theater kids LMFAO

[bananaactivity]

hello!! What is Jay like in your au? I apologize if you've already talked about him I haven't seen it ><

Brooo Jay is making me shiver my timbers rn 🥶

when I say, I have ideas for everyone and I do mean every character that is from the original series like I have design ideas for everybody, even dumb ass Doug. I can’t for the life of me figure out Jay.

I’ve never been able to figure out what direction I want to go with design wise. However, as a character it’s a different different story. I know what I want him to be as a character and the way he acts and behaves with others.

I want him to be more in tune with his culture, that is the culture of the origins of the story of Aladdin in the Middle East. I don’t want to stereotype and make the designs that older Disney did way back when they made the og movie because it feels very costumey not in a good way. 

I wanna give it a modern spin, but I’m not really sure where to look for more authentic costume for him. Of course, this is pertaining to the way he dresses, and not to do with his facial structure or hair, as I usually just take inspiration from the actor for that look. So, in this case, he would just look like BooBoo Stewart with small changes to make him look like Jafar, but in a relative way.

 As for his personality I do have it figured out. He is very similar to how he is in the original descendants canon. He is protective and strong, If not a little dumb compared to Carlos. if you write my other post, you know that Carlos is very smart, like astronomically, smart and cunning and witty. Jay is not per se stupid, as I’ve given the role of truly dumb Himbo who bounces off of Carlos to Chad, but anybody that talks to Carlos can’t help feel a little stupid.

 Jay and Chad are still besties who game and enjoy each other‘s company, but Jay is jealous of Carlos’s relationship with Harry. Not in a romantic sense as I really want to go the Huma route, just in a way, he wishes he could be close to him so he can study him. Harry is an excellent swordsman and a master at fear/manipulation of others. a lot of the story takes place before the cast can go to Auradon so they are still trying to be their most vicious self, and no one is more vicious than Hook and his son Harry.

 Jafar ended up, moving to the aisle from his homeland after he was ousted by the Sultan. in this AU, I had to change a lot of things so that villains wouldn’t end up dead or trapped and unable to actually be on the aisle without it being this horrible thing where they were brought back to life just to be put on a prison island. I also do want people to remember that I changed major part of the story as well and what makes this a true AU is the fact that Auradon is the place that is locked up. It’s still a caste system as Auradon is still a wealthy place, it’s just locked up so that is incredibly hard for anyone that does not have a wonderful reputation and lots of money can’t get on Auradons land. It’s also critically hard to get off of the island as security is very high and measures were never put in place for any of the rich patrons of the island to get off as it is seen as Haven and no one should want to get off anyhow.

 but of course, it is literally super boring on Auradon due to all the rules about magic, and what not, as well as other more adult activities being incredibly frowned opon. That is how Hook makes his money, he found an entrance through water passages to get wealthy patrons off the aisle, and he “imports” them to their illicit activities and then bring them back.  no one never tells because everyone on Auradon wants to be able to leave and they know they’ll never get the chance if they tell about somebody giving them the ability to not live a lavish lifestyle, but also do to depraved things they want.  just like rich people in real life :D…

Anyways, all of this basically culminates in Hook teaching his son to be an absolute weapon which Jay wants to become. When he first came to the isle he was 12 and everybody else was also 12 and he really looked up to Harry at that time was super cool and a good swordsman.  Seeing as Jafar lost everything when he was forced to leave his homeland and his high, paying job, he decided to take inspiration from Aladdin . He has his son steal items to sell in his shop, eventually becomes a really bad habit for Jay and he is a habitual thief. Or a klepto I guess you could call him.

He teaches himself sportsmanship after spying Harry, and eventually becomes friends with Mal after saving her girlfriend, Evie from Gil who actually wasn’t trying to hurt her he was just a bit confused. It was a whole thing.  Carlos is the last to join the core four gang and when he does he lets slip that he is close with Harry. And seeing as Jay has always looked up, despite them being the same age, Jay was super happy to learn this, and eventually that turned into jealousy. He and Carlos are cool friends though.

 For the core fours parents and other Pre VKs I’d say their stories are about them, wanting to find a reason to be against the norms of society, and eventually finding that and seeing, it’s not all that, and they become the worst versions of themselves. And for the Descendents, I’m writing each of them to have bad traits that is shown through the first part of their story, and in the lead of the story, the part that sends them to Auradon Uni they learn how to get out of that mindset and they each break their evil habits the rest of the story concludes.

Jay’s habit is his kleptomania as well as his jealousy.

Carlos habit is looking down on others and just unethical practices regarding his fashion. Reminder guys, it’s OK to wear real fur as long as it’s ethical.

Mals  habit is also looking down on others, but it’s different from Carlos who’s kind of justified, he really is smart. But Mal looks down on people for how they present themselves, as well as basing, how useful they are based on her own power set and what she thinks is truly powerful. she’s also the last to figure out herself and what she desires to actually be in life

Evie is pretty chill, but she is vain. And mostly has to deal with all the shit that comes from Mal Actually falling for Ben. They have a little breakup moment. But if she does move past this and she and Mal make up after a good amount of time separate.

 if you have any specific questions, you can always ask and I don’t have too much specifics down. It’s just a really detailed overview of what I want to write eventually.

The structure of the Fic is kind of a three book deal. The first book takes place during the events predating Rise of Red with the original timeline it follows through to the second book which loops through the first three descendants films and those characters growing, and then circles back to the third book with rise of red again but this time it’s dealing with the alternate timeline with red and Chloe. (Also I can’t write music and I don’t wanna do a juke box musical either so any music style animatics I make will be non canon)

Books:

1: Not Like The Others- the life of future villains, showing what in their young lives lead to their Vile despicable present.

2: Cruel, Hateful, Twisted and Wicked- the story of young adults growing from their family’s trauma and becoming more then the sins of their vile parents past

3: Just Like The Others- Two idiot child hood freinds go back in time and cause a whole heap of trouble that effects the present in terrifying ways

[levi-llama]

Space, Time, and the Psyche (3)

(A/N: hey, I figured since it’s Christmas I should post another chapter. Enjoy and happy holidays!)

Series Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Chapter Warmings: Violence and Gore, Panic Attacks, Strong Language, Non Graphic Sexual Themes, MDNI

-Chaos Cruise-

The adrenaline started to wear off as a twinge of fear took its place. The rattling, banging, shaking, quaking of the ship scared me. Were there maintenance policies on space ships, because if not, there really should be.

“Is it supposed to be this rackety?” I yelled over the loud sound of chaos.

“It?!”

“Yeah! The ship!”

“She is a TARDIS! Not just a ship!” He sounded offended and that perplexed me.

“What is a-!” The ship - sorry - TARDIS - came to a stop, “-Tardis?” I finished my statement calmly since the noise halted with the ship.

“She stands for ‘Time And Relative Dimension In Space’ also known as: T-A-R-D-I-S, TARDIS!” He explained a little exacerbated, but still with this frill of excitement he always seemed to have.

“Alright, alright! So, where are we then?”

“Step out and see for yourself.” He gestured to the doors.

Hesitantly I obliged. The doors cracked open to a spotless ornate carpet of a deep ruby red. The doors lining the hallway had a sense of class, as if only people from old money could afford to stay here. Each door had a golden plated number.

“A hotel?” I spoke. Unsure if we even left Earth. If this was all some sort of trick.

“No, but close, what’s your second guess?” He said, bending by his waist to come down to my eye level.

“Not a Hotel?” I deadpanned.

“Oi! You’re no fun!” He pouted like a disappointed child. “Okay, okay. Follow me.”

“Aw, did I crush your spirits, Doc?” I spoke tauntingly, a faux pout on my own face.

“Oh shush!” And thus he grabbed my wrist, leading me through the matching double doors at the very end of the hall.

The doors opened to an elegant scene. It looked as if it came straight out of the Titanic itself. The wide open event space, with its gargantuan chandelier, added warm golden light that casted the room in a feel of luxurious richness. The carpet continued down the spacious grand staircase, into an even more spacious room where the wealthy, and, albeit, gorgeous, occupants mingled and conversed in relaxed delight. Though, the best part of it was the walls. The walls were a half-dome of glass showcasing the vastness of space. Highlighting the shimmering watercolor of a nebulus. Flowing and dancing itself as if peacocking its breathtaking beauty.

A hand weighed heavy on my shoulder. I yelped at the startle and only then did I realize I’d been gawking.

“You still with us, Eddie, my pal?” His tone was filled with playful humor rather than any hint of sincere concern.

“Fuck.”

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“You weren’t lying..?”

“Well of course I wasn’t-“

“You. Weren’t. Lying?”

He paused in concern.

“You weren’t lying!?” I dragged the last syllable in childlike glory as I zoomed down the stairs.

“Wait-!” He yelled after me.

I only stopped when my face squished against the glass window. “Wow..” I murmured. I leaned back as I saw the Doctor's reflection closing in behind me.

“‘Wow’ is correct.” He turned me around by my shoulders and smiled down at me. “Well, should we take a look around?”

“Yes! Absolutely yes!”

-

We approached a table of food and refreshments. The delicacies were foreign and, frankly, looked quite unappetizing, but at least all wine is made universally the same way - or so the doctor explained, whether it’s true or not is still yet to be learned.

I sipped at my glass of wine when suddenly I felt this impending foreboding danger. Like it has always been here, but it’s coming closer. Considering this odd sensation, I noticed it felt different than my typical anxiety or paranoia. This was a fact. I felt that this was a fact. It’s not like I can explain it, I just know it somehow.

The Doctor, having noticed my pause, waved his hand in front of my face.

“Somethings wrong.” My speech was urgent but it came out emotionless. I didn’t feel nervous. I felt no uncertainty.

“What do you..?”

“They’re coming.” I wasn’t the one formulating my words anymore. They were automatic. An extension of my unconscious self.

Like I foretold; they came.

“Get down!” I felt something push me to the ground. No- it was someone! And just in time at that! These giant albino mosquitoes flew down from the ceiling’s air ducts.

“What are those things?!” I looked up at the raggedy man as he perched on top of me, shielding me from the bug-like creatures.

“They’re Culecs. A parasitic alien species known for feeding on humanoid tissue.” He gripped my arm to help me up. “Ugly little things.” He gave a ‘blegh’ to accentuate his disgust. He started into a sprint, dragging me behind him.

“Where are we going?!” He let go of my wrist, letting me run for myself.

“The main deck! The crew must’ve known these buggers were here!” After running up one flight of stairs already I (understandably) started lagging behind. After another flight I was by myself catching my breath.

I took a second to sit against the wall on the third floor platform. I took a few moments - a long few moments - to calm down and recollect myself before I fully realized the position my out-of-shape, soft body had left me in.

I got up, gripping the wall, and after one more deep breath, I ran straight for the event room once again, back to the center of it. If the Doctor was going to handle the crisis from the control center, I’ll handle the damage control.

Going through another hallway of guest rooms, I

burst through an identical set of double doors as earlier. Emerging onto the third floor balcony, two floors above the original grand staircase, I saw the grisly scene of half consumed bodies. Humans and various humanoids of other species lay rotting, as the dozen or so survivors huddled behind a pile of tipped over tables. No more of the parasites to be seen. Probably thought there weren’t any more bodies to consume.

“Hey!” I whisper shouted down to the others, yet they didn’t hear me. Looking around frantically, in a moment of panic, I flung myself onto the tall curtain at the end of the railing. Climbing down half way, until my grip slipped and I started to slide down all the way.

I landed a few meters away from the company, startling a little girl into screaming.

“Hey, hey!” I put my hands out both palms up. “It’s just me. I’m trying to help you.”

“Who are you?” The girl’s mother demanded.

“Yea! And why should we listen to you anyway!?” An elderly, blue-tinted, man spoke up.

“We-well…” I took a moment to think.

“Spit it out, lady!” A young boy yelled.

“Well, I’m the captain! Captain Eddie at your service!”

“You’re the captain? Really?” The boy spoke again.

“Can you help us?” The little girl asked. Cute puppy eyes shining in hope.

“I sure can, sweetie.” I ruffled her hair.

“What other choice do we have?” Her mother spoke up, and thankfully her small statement seemed to stir up a resounding agreement.

“Okay, Captain! Show us the way to safety!” The elderly man spoke again.

-

I led them to the top deck, staircase after staircase, they seemed to lag behind. The mother, already long before, decided to carry her daughter to help speed up their haste. The elderly man seemed to struggle the hardest. I stopped, the crowd stopped with me, and walked through to meet the blue mustached alien.

“What’s your name, sir?” I asked with as much faux confidence and authority as I could muster.

“Zoro Zorglo.” He responded weakly, out of breath.

“Well, Mr. Zorglo, shall we?” I went to his side and gripped his elbow and hand, helping up the last two flights of stairs as the rest followed.

Just as we turned the last corner of the stairwell, we saw a hoard of Culecs flew towards us.

“Go! Go! Now!” I yelled at the group as I followed behind. “Into the supply closet! Everyone!”

I ushered everyone in and closed the door behind us, my back keeping the door firm. After a nerve wracking few moments, the loud fluttering of wings, seemed to have stopped.

“Is it safe now?” The little girl whispered.

“I think so, let me check.” I murmured back. As I slowly opened the door, stepping out to look, it seemed safe.

Then the clink of metal hitting metal sounded in the back of the closet. Yet, nothing seemed to have moved. The coast was still clear.

“Alright everyon-“ I was interrupted by the sudden thundering of parasitic wings. The teenage boy grabbed the door and shut it before I could get inside.

My heart sank to my stomach as my body was lifted to the air. Carried like a rag doll by this beastly, and disgusting buggish-parasite. We flew through the hall at a sharp speed. Only getting relieved as I was flung onto the hard ground. Rolling until I hit a mass. Not any mass, though; it was the ship’s control table. I was finally at the main deck.

“Oh! Hello, Eddie! Fancy seeing you here! Was wondering where you’d gone.” He bounced on the balls of his feet as if it were any other normal day.

I groaned and rolled my eyes before getting to my feet and dusting myself off. “All the survivors are hiding in a storage closet down the hall as we speak. There’s only 4 of them that I could find in time. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

the buzzing sound of flapping wings could be heard once again.

“Sorry to break off this oh-so touching reunion, but I do believe we were discussing something, Doctor.” She spoke almost seductively, taunting. She approached him, finally coming into view from the shadows with a group of the parasites tagging behind her, following her lead.

She was grotesque, her crew uniform ripped to shreds, exposing an almost pearlescent carapace that coated her stomach and chest - her vital organs. Her eyes were a sickly bloodshot red, but her skin was the worst of all, random coarse hairs stuck off of the insectile appendages that sprouted from her back. The flesh around where they sprouted was scabbed over. The gaunt look of her face was like a pale corpse. The only explanation was that she was somehow the aliens’ queen.

“Here I’ll do us all a favor and take care of this meddlesome brat that so rudely interrupted us.” She shrugged as if she were only slightly annoyed by my mere existence.

“Wai-wait! Hold up!” The parasitic ex-human quirked her thinly trimmed eyebrow in bored anticipation. “I’m-I’m the captain! So, I, as captain, command you to- uh- to get off my ship!”

Her giggle started soft, yet turned into cackles so hard she doubled over from the effort her lungs were making. “Captain? Captain?!” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “You must be kidding me!” She stepped up to me slowly, grabbing my collar and lifting me to my tip toes. Nose to morbid nose. “I’m the captain.”

She threw me down before gesturing to her parasitic minions.

“Take her to the hive!”

—

In a flash, the Crulecs grabbed me and flew out of the room. The winding hallways and lightning speed made me nauseous. I barely held the bile in.

They threw me down a poorly lit, metal cavern. I anticipated a sharp fall, yet instead landed on a sticky, string-like substance, cushioning me.

When my dizziness finally subsided, I started to glance at my surroundings. The engine room was reduced to a stuck, sticky and slimy web. No longer functioning, we were stranded.

I tried to pry my arms off the, once helpful, webbing. Yet my limbs were stuck. My choppy, short dark hair tugged on my scalp as I tried to assess my surroundings.

As I submitted to the stringy mess I’d literally fallen in, trying to come up with a plan, my mind wandered to my new companion. The doctor. Worried, hoping he was fairing well with that witch upstairs.

A ringing erupted in my ears, painful and sharp, but as it subsided I could hear the familiar voice of the man who brought me here.

“Doctor?!” I shouted out loud, but only echo responded back. The cavern was dark, so it wasn’t surprising I couldn’t see him. “Doctor are you here?!” Yet the answer sounded right in my ears.

No. Not in my ears. Between my ears. It was like the familiar sound of my own thoughts, except it wasn’t me causing it.

After a pause, another voice sounded. The queen.

“We were negotiating were we not?” Her voice hissed. Irritation evident. Patience running thin.

“Ah, yes. I was asking you to leave the ship. Give it back to the survivors.” He spoke nonchalantly.

“And what will I gain from that, exactly?” She huffed. “I mean seriously, without little ol’ you and your little ol’ pets, my babies will have nothing to eat. They’d be absolutely patched. Now you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“With all due respect, these are people. Sentient beings with lives of their own. And lives that are not for sale or consumption, may I add.” The Doctor’s obvious frustration started to crack his calm demeanor.

Another pause. A tense standoff.

“How about this?” He sighed, “give Eddie back, and if they are unharmed, I will think about giving you the rest.”

He couldn’t actually be considering that? Is the man who saved my measly life, really willing to give up so many others so easily?

“Alright, fine. Follow me.”

He’s gotta have a plan right? He can’t let this happen, at least not without a proper fight.

—

What felt exponentially long, yet was probably only ten minutes, passed before I heard a banging on the floor above me. Two people appeared on a catwalk above the engine - above me.

“Eddie!” The familiar man ran to the stairs at the end of the catwalk. “Are you Alright?!” He avoided the webs with ease that I couldn’t imagine.

“I’m fine, Doctor, just a little stuck is all.” I grunted while trying to get up, demonstrating my sticky situation.

He gripped at my collar and tugged, then my leg, then my arm, trying to help me with brute force alone. The queen looked down at our struggle in sadistic glee.

“Back pocket.” I whispered.

“What?” He blurted.

“Shhhhhh! She doesn’t expect me to get loose. Look at her face. She is expecting defeat. Failure. She wants to devour us, then take the survivors anyway. Your deal wouldn’t work even if you were going to actually go through with it.”

“How-“

“Later.” You sighed. “Now, back left pocket, you should be able to reach my pocket knife without touching the webbing, but be careful.”

He nodded, before carefully reaching below me. I could feel the pocket knife leave my pants. And with a small flourish, he held up the prize between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Now cut me loose!” I whisper-yelled, and he got to work.

After a beat too long of silence, the villainess spoke up. “See, she’s unharmed. Now, about the food you offered me?” Her grin was wicked, her elongated tongue slid over her teeth, yet she still hasn’t noticed I’ve gotten loose. The Doctor’s tall frame had shadowed where I was, the necessity of my visibility was all but forgotten by the parasite Queen. I climbed up the metal stairs as The Doctor distracted her.

“Yea, well about that?” He spoke, a faux hesitance to his voice. Teasing almost. “You see those people - not food, may I add - are going to stay right where they are.”

“What?!” She screeched, yet was cut off, by a little shove to her mutated back.

“Oopsie?” I innocently spoke.

The queen fell to the webbing, getting tangled on the way down.

The doctor ran up to meet me. “Alright let’s hurry and get everyone to an escape pod before she gets untangled.”

We rushed back to the supply closet I left the group in, thankfully not a long distance.

“It’s me! Eddie!” I knocked on the door.

“Eddie? You’re okay!” The little girl ran out the door hugging my legs tight.

“Hey, girlie! Good to see you again!”

“We are here to take you to the escape pods, so everyone, follow us!” The rest of the group followed close behind, until we reached the pods. The doctor runs in first and sets the coordinates to the nearest space port.

“Alright everyone, in, in, in!” And thus we closed the shuttle door, said our farewells, and they were off. Finally safe and sound.

We hurry up to the Tardis to finally take off.

—

As soon as he gets us orbiting some strange place in the universe, out of harm's way, I crash.

I slip onto the ground against the railing of the control room. I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t. Breathe. I couldn’t breathe! I scratched at my throat, willing the air to reach my lungs. Tears stung my reddened face.

I felt hands on me. They’re back! They’re on the tardis! They’re trying to get me!

“Get off!” I sobbed out, the wheeze echoed in my esophagus.

“Hey hey, shhh. Shshsh. It’s just me, Eddie. It’s just me. You’re okay.” His soothing voice reached my ears and my lungs broke free from their chains allowing the air to burst into my body with a force so hard, I coughed. I coughed. And I coughed.

“Do-Doctor!” A painful gasp racked my shivering body, and I started to claw at my arms. “I-I. I couldn’t-! I-!” He grabbed my arms and turned me, letting me lean against his chest as he rested his back against the railing.

“I know. I know. Shhh. You’re okay now. You did your best.” He brushed one hand through my hair, repetitively, soothingly.

“B-but I-!” And the sobs turned into quiet tears. Body still quivering.

“I’m proud of you, Eddie. You did so well. You’re doing so well for me.”

I looked up at him with tired, tear stained eyes. My breathing was finally under control. Body just limp, from over exertion.

“Let’s get you to bed, hm?” He got up and reached a hand to me, yet instead of taking it, I reached both my arms out to him. “Oh alright.” He rolled his eyes at me and tried to withhold his grin, before picking me up, arms around his neck, and legs around his torso.

He carried me through the tardis halls, to a room I’ve never seen before, and laid me out on the bed. “Alright little Lemur, get some rest.” He took off my shoes, tucked me in, then ruffled my hair before leaving.

—

Moments later, he stood in the control room. A scan of Eddie on the screen.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He whispered to no one, but the tardis.

—

Masterlist

[dashingdcboys]

I WROTE A BOOK

Boo! I’m back with a my first novel after over a decade of writing short stories for myself. I got really sucked into the TGCF fandom and kind of abandonned DC so sorry y’all. I just came onto this account for the first time in years to promote this, and I might create an account for this novel if it kicks off.

I just  . . .

how.

Anyway, I'll be thankful for anyone who'd check it out and possibly leave an honest review. As I said this is my first novel so constructive criticism is welcome!

The Lone Lake of Glass Lilies is a long, twisting romance novel full of suspense, thrill and silly loving characters as well as horredously cruel characters (it's 322 pages long, with themes of fantasy/romance/thriller/age progression!). 

The romance side of things is inspired from books such as Heaven's Official Blessing and with some background elements of Howl's Moving Castle.

The novel takes place in my own self-made fantasy world, where elves, fairies, tieflings, werewolves, giants, cyclopses, goblins, four covens of witches, sorcerers, humans and vampires all live in relative harmony until a particular coven, the Coven of Crows, drops from their noble standing as renowned healers to the darkest pits of anatomy magic after a tragic death of a beloved young lord. The lord’s close brother seeks his revenge on the leading kingdom of the supernatural world and its counterpart fairy kingdom; the elves. The elf king was the ulmtimate leader of their realm whom could halt all wars and battles with the rise of his finger however preferred to hide away from the backlash of intervening in other commuinities’ affairs by sending the crows - most commonly known as the Corbeaus - to offer support on both sides of the battlefield instead.

The typical fantasy characters that all have little twists to their regular characteristics to fit the story; all with their own cultures, beliefs and supersitions; practising both good values and bad as most follow the herd of the community they grew up in. Most.

Our protagonist is the first to stand up against his peoples’ vain belief system with the aid of a most powerful yet gentle presense in his life whose melodious voice guides him through the worst of astrocities.

The plot is jam packed with action that leaves readers wondering what will happen next as our protagonist slowly begins to doubt their own sanity with every heart wrenching decision.

The story revolves around a homeless elf boy who was brought up in the slums of a wealthy elven kingdom. He had slowly grown accustomed to being the victim of mistreatment until he develops his first crush on a  bold, endearing fairy princess who is the first to give him a chance to reach his full potential. The story goes through all his stages in life from boy to young teen to teenager, adult and further; as his innocent crush blooms into a deeply fond love for her, keeping him soft and tender even as life becomes unbearble to the brink of death. 

The Lone Lake of Glass Lilies can get dreadly depressing at points, and ridiculously silly at others, with sombre topics as well as highly suggestive scenes that make it 18+

The two lovers are kept apart for the majority of the novel, as the love interest becomes too invested in her own duties to contact the lovesick protagonist however the spark between them is always present in the background like the soft glow of a night light in the swallowing darkness. 

Available on Amazon Kindle!

Check this out! https://amzn.eu/d/i8As302

Cover done by the great @yuliydominik on insta

[lifethenegaverseandeverything]

So here’s the thing and I’m probably going to lose friends I might have over this by inviting controversy, but everyone is supposed to have their opinion right? Whether anyone agrees with it or not, that is up to the individual. But shy of purposely being ignorant or offense on purpose we all need our freedom to follow our hearts.

I’m a Disney fanatic. Particularly the older animated 2 D films. Always have loved them, and dearly wanted to be an animator as a child. I grew up watching Walt Disney and idolized him. I get now that know things I didn’t and he had his issues. But he brought joy to millions of people and very much to me through his creations.

Snow White was his first film and it’s probably the closest to the original story. Recently when it was put up as a possible project for Live Film adaptation I figured it was coming. Then a certain actor, who you may alll know from Game of Thrones said his piece on the film, speaking behalf of the community with skeletal dysplasia and Disney company, wanting to seem modern and placate any malcontents, tucked their tails between their legs and scrambled to radically alter the film that is the only reason they even exist with little or no thought to representation or the fandom.

I have a relative who grew up up with achondroplasia which is the most common form of dwarfism. He loved the seven dwarves. They are the heroes of Snow White, the ones who protect her, and shelter her, and provide for her. They are not shameful or weak characters, they are stars of the film and successful diamond minors and quite frankly wealthy and humble and courageous and many other admirable qualities besides adding humor to the film. For many people growing up they were some of the only representatives that people with achondroplasia had in well recognized main stream media.

I recently stated I had lost respect for Peter Dinklage after his comments almost got the seven dwarves taken out of the film and I stand by that. He used his influence to try and alter a classic film and very possibly cost multiple actors who would have loved to have those parts the chance to play iconic characters, and as far as I can tell he’s never even seen the film because he said the dwarves live in the mine instead of knowing they live in the cottage with Snow White, which is literally a main point in the storyline. He is also rather hypocritical in my humble opinion as he has gotten famous from his game of thrones part where he allowed himself to be referred to as a dwarf because of historical timeframe accuracy and in previous films he played a mythological dwarf himself with heavy prosthetics to make himself look more fantastical. Also, he did not denounce The Hobbit franchise or the. Witcher franchise for using the terminology of dwarves or actors to play them, so why exactly is Snow White a target for retelling a classic story?

Anyway I’m probably no one to speak of this but it bothers me a lot and I was told I was wrong for supporting a retelling of the original story that was faithful to the animated version so I’m just gonna leave this opinion here and hopefully I don’t get ripped apart for it.

[eclaisse]

Pixels and Photography

I think I should document some of 2023 over here, and potentially 2022 as well?

Back when I was younger, I would feel sad that I didn't have a good phone and camera or the means to travel often like my friends and peers. My family barely scraped by while my classmates were all relatively wealthy, so growing up in that environment was a bit of a challenge. I know my parents prioritized living in a good area to give me and my sibling the best educations, but it's difficult to fit in when everyone has the newest or highest quality belongings and you're stuck with hand-me downs or substitutes. I tried to be grateful for what I had and think I was fine in high school, but my college years were during the peak of Instagram where everyone was sharing their expensive vacations, meals, and possessions. I I slowly realized the glaring disparity between my and my acquaintances' lives, as well as how sheltered I was. I had no idea that some of my classmates were so wealthy and looking back, I kind of wish I never did?

Admittedly, social media did teach me quite a bit, especially in regards to food, fashion, makeup, psychology, etiquette, and social issues. Social media is a cool way to connect and learn from others, but it's a double edged sword. So many people developed depression and other mental health issues due to being constantly linked and compared to others. I'm pretty grateful that I grew up as people were transitioning into the mainstream usage of technology instead of being born into it. Growing up with social media sounds like a recipe for disaster in regards to mental health and self-image.

As a college student, I would be desperate to take nice pictures of food and nature and share them to social media, but nothing would ever turn out the way I intended. It's definitely because the phones I had were very basic since that's all my family could afford. Once I got my first industry job, I bought a Pixel 3 and it was the first "nice" smartphone I owned, on par with Apple and Samsung phones in terms of photography and processing power. In October 2019 I went to go visit family in London for my first solo trip and took so many pictures!! I still look back on that month's album because the photos I took of the architecture, nature, and food are all gorgeous. I received so many compliments on my photography skills on Instagram- I felt like I could finally carry out my visions with that phone. :'D

The Pixel phones are fantastic for taking pictures of food, plants, and scenery while costing a fraction of the price as iPhones and Samsung Galaxies. I've since moved onto a Pixel 6, and the picture quality is still great. I'm shy about taking selfies and never really got into the habit- to be honest, I think there must be some selfie settings on my phone that I have not figured out how to use properly. My selfies always turn out a bit strange looking- I imagine it's because of the camera? On Tiktok, some of the face filters also don't work properly on the Pixel so I think those two things are related. I do like my selfies more on Galaxies and iPhones, but since I don't normally take them, I think it's fine to just stick with my Pixel.

Anyways, it's funny that I would get sad over all this when I was a student and try to take better photos to share, but now that I actually take good photos, I barely share them!! I think we all got tired of social media once the pandemic hit, and things have never really been the same since. But I figured that since I have the photo quality I desire now, and get many compliments on my shots still, it may be worth it to finally share them on here. I'm looking forward to it!!

[sol1056]

My father was the son of a carpenter (no HS degree) and a nurse (associate’s degree). His parents couldn’t afford college for him, but he scored high enough on college exams that a state school offered him a scholarship. He ended up enlisting for three reasons.

One, he lost his scholarship (D in history, geez, Dad). Two, with a draft afoot, enlisting was the only way to make sure he had any choice (however slim) in what he’d do and be. Three, the military paid for his bachelors, his master’s, and his doctorate -- and that education is what got him out of that small southern Georgia town and into teaching at some of the most prestigious universities on the US’ eastern seaboard. 

Enlisting has always been trade-off. If you come from middle class or higher, then you probably don’t need major financial assistance for your education, or a down-payment on a car or house. Even if you're legacy military, once your family’s middle-class, the tangible benefits aren’t as great, relatively.

But if your parents are farmers, factory workers, miners, or similar labor-intensive blue-collar workers and it’s looking like your only choice is to follow them down that same road or learn to be a waitress? The military has been, for several generations now, your best ticket out of a dead-end town, job, or life.

A lot of the time, it’s your only ticket.

The whole point of the GI Bill was to make enlisting worth the risk of dying in a foreign land for some rich man’s war. You put in so many years of your life and (assuming you survived), you'd walk out well-trained or even well-educated, with good job prospects and a social network of fellow former military to help you land softly. You’d have decent healthcare, a good pension, and access to a fair home loan. (And if you didn’t survive? The VA provides for children & widow/ers, so at least your family would see the benefits.)

Yes, to everything @johnbrownfunclubofficial and @natalieironside​ said above, because all of that is true. (Hell, it’s not much better when you’re a dependent, although the enlisted-wives and officer-wives bullshit is lot better than it used to be.) But it’s also true that depending on where you’re coming from, sometimes that trade-off is worth the price.

But we have to unpack that to see the real problem: we have no other consistent and reliable means for people to hoist themselves out of a lack of generational wealth or skills. There’s no broad-based funding for kids in poorer counties or states to get solid training or education (let alone with room & board provided plus a small stipend!).

The challenge of “if you want to do X, go learn how to do it” doesn’t work, if you’re coming from that far down. Learn it? From whom? And you pay for that training, how? And who pays for you while you do it? Education of any kind costs money and time. You may have the time, but without the money? It remains a pipedream.

Does the military take advantage of this? Absolutely. Blocking all other options for kids with minimal/limited prospects is by design. The US military complex absolutely wants those kids to see no way out except to hope they can survive that war in a foreign land fighting on behalf of rich men who couldn’t give a damn what those kids did, and will, sacrifice.

But now we come to a parallel truth.

This is a less-discussed but important contributing factor in the pushback on universal basic income. The Pentagon (and American imperialism and its wealthy cronies) are fully aware that, given any other choice, the average blue-collar, labor-raised, lower-class kid would not join the military. In short: basic income would cause enlistment to plummet.

It’s not difficult math. Beyond even the truth of the internal tyranny of the DoJ and the UCMJ and just the sheer madness of the insular culture known as ‘living on base’, most human beings prefer careers where “high chance of potentially being killed” is not in the job listing. And I’d be willing to bet an even larger number of human beings, given any other choice, would want nothing to do with a job that requires “potentially killing other human beings.”

As for those who would, they can just go be cops.

One time in Army we got into a big nerf gun fight inside our building and a bunch of people got really mad and decreed that all kinetic weapons including nerf guns fit the legal definition of firearms under the UCMJ and made us go secure our nerf guns in the armory.

I hid mine tho. I said this is goddamn America and we got a second ammendment.

[astradrifting]

GRRM really created so many parallels and foreshadow using the DoD characters that honestly we could just figure the asoiaf ending by analyzing it. My favorite is the Aegon III-D@ny parallels, the fact that one of his closest allies was a face-scarred Master of coin Lannister who ended as Hand to Bran' parallel character just make it so obvious its funny.

Oh my god I didn’t even realise Tyland Lannister was initially on the greens’ side! I’m not super fond of Tyrion ending up as Hand, but you’re right that it’s so obviously meant to reference him. There’s so many parallels that it’s a little crazy. I don’t want to say that the second Dance will end exactly as the first did, it’d be a little too neat if history repeated entirely, but you can see so many echoes of it even in the show’s bastardised ending.

“The broken, shattered realm suffered for a while yet, but the Dance of the Dragons was done. Now what awaited the realm was the False Dawn, the Hour of the Wolf, the rule of the regents, and the Broken King.”

(TWOIAF, Aegon II)

I’m not sure what the False Dawn is going to parallel to, it refers to the period of time after Aegon II’s death but before Lord Stark got to King’s Landing, when people thought that peace had finally come. It kind of brings to mind the War for the Dawn, though personally I think that the threat of the Others will be resolved before the Dance is over. The Hour of the Wolf is obviously about House Stark’s rise back to power, and the Broken King is Bran - though if he actually becomes known as Bran the Broken I might end up committing violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. 

The parts about Lord Corlys Velaryon are why I’m so hopeful that Jon’s book ending will be completely different from the show’s. He’s arrested for Aegon II’s death by Cregan Stark, even though Cregan had previously declared for Rhaenyra, because as TWOIAF puts it, “to kill a cruel and unjust king in lawful battle was one thing. But foul murder, and the use of poison, was a betrayal against the very gods who had anointed him.”

Corlys didn’t deny his guilt, and expressed no regret. “What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.”

Cregan Stark declared him to be guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason, and he was sentenced to execution. But many spoke in his defence, even people who had fought against him in the Dance. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Corlys’ granddaughters and Aegon III’s half-sisters, convinced Aegon to issue an edict pardoning Lord Velaryon, which Alysanne Blackwood then convinced Cregan to let stand. Lord Velaryon was pardoned and even restored to his offices and honours, made one of the king’s regents and given a place on the small council.

Corlys’ words definitely could be Jon’s as well, a much more in-character declaration post-D@ny’s death than the drivel GoT tried to feed us. I was worried for a bit that this would be how Tyrion is let off scot-free, but Baela and Rhaena, who were vital to his release, are such obvious Arya and Sansa stand-ins, and they’re certainly not going to expend any effort in helping Tyrion. So Corlys’ circumstances more likely lays the groundwork for how Jon will be freed and remain in political power, while Tyland frankly inexplicably becoming Aegon III’s Hand after he was in favour of brutally killing him parallels Tyrion managing to fail up, as a way of reconciling the old regime with the new one.

This makes Tyrion becoming Hand more palatable IMO. Either Jon and Tyrion both should have been punished or neither should have been punished, not the travesty where Tyrion gets everything he’s ever wanted while Jon is exiled to a Watch with no purpose and a Wall that’s already half-collapsed, so what exactly can it protect against? I suppose they were afraid of seemingly rewarding Jon for killing d@ny, especially if pol!Jon had been revealed, but most people noticed how nonsensical his ending was, and it just led to ‘Bloodraven/Bran is the real villain’ takes anyway.

(Side note: Asha/Yara basically still being loyal to D at the end annoys me so much, and made no sense. Jon did more to help save her by giving Theon that pep talk than D@ny did. Maybe it was a leftover from her taking Victarion’s role in the story, but in no reasonable world is anyone going to listen to the Ironborn who brought the Fire threat over in the first place.)

Of course Tyland Lannister isn’t actually Hand for long, given that he dies barely two years later from Winter Fever, feared and hated, alone except for a maester and King Aegon. It might be an indication that Tyrion will face a similar fate, that he’ll die after he’s seemingly won, exactly what he threatened Cersei with:

“A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

(ACOK, Tyrion XII)

So that I can stop talking about Tyrion, here’s some facts about Rhaena and Baela that are obviously meant to reference Sansa and Arya, so much so that it feels a little bit like GRRM is winking and going “See what I did there? Huh? Huh? Did you see??”:

- their descriptions: “Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick; Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride...” + “Baela was wild and willful”, “more boyish than ladylike”, and kept her hair cropped short as a boy’s

- Rhaena spent most of the Dance in the Vale, where she lived in relative comfort as the ward of Lady Jeyne Arryn. Baela was a dragonrider and so moved between Dragonstone and Driftmark, but was captured on Dragonstone when Aegon II descended upon it

- Rhaena was favoured to be queen after her brother, considered more qualified than her wild sister

- Baela liked to spend time with “unsuitable companions” she would bring to the Red Keep - including a comely juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired (!!!), a legless beggar, a pair of twin girls from a brothel, an entire troupe of mummers once

- After her brother’s regents tried to marry her to a lord 40 years older than her, Baela escaped the Red Keep by climbing out of a window, trading clothes with a washerwoman, then walking right out of the front gate. She ran away to Driftmark and married her supposed cousin (though more likely he was her half-uncle), the legitimised bastard Alyn Velaryon, which might have had me worried about j0nrya if Alyn weren’t best known for being a daring sailor who went on many voyages, including sailing the Sunset Sea, until he was finally lost at sea during Aegon IV’s reign. Alyn’s mother was also called Mouse, for being “small, quick, and always underfoot.”

- another fun fact about Alyn: he’s a bad haggler, and had to agree to a high ransom and many concessions in order to get Prince Viserys returned to Westeros. This automatically disqualifies him as a Jon stand-in, because as we all know, Jon Snow can haggle like the best of fishwives.

- My absolutely favourite detail that has my jonsa heart singing - Rhaena was more dutiful than her sister and would have married a man that the king and council chose, saying that as long as he was “kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” She was able to marry her first choice, whom the regents didn’t immediately approve of but that they ultimately accepted  - Ser Corwyn Corbray, the brother of the Lord Protector of the Realm, a second son (!) whose late father had gifted him the Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn (!!!)

And as a treat for @istumpysk, some similarities between Rickon and Viserys II!

- the youngest child of their family

- separated from their older brother after they were forced to flee their home, trying to get to safety while their other brothers and mother were at war

- worshipped their oldest (half-)brothers, but were closer to the brother nearest their age

- spends the war stuck on an island, populated by people closely linked to their family’s origins - Skagosi are descended mostly from the First Men, while Viserys was on Lys, where the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong

- sought by/held hostage by a powerful and wealthy family, who will treat them well but whose intentions are dubious

- will be brought back from exile by an upjumped bastard/commoner from a port town who was raised to lordship and became their monarch’s chief admiral

- after they are returned, long after the wars and crises, is happily welcomed as the heir to their older brother’s throne (shhhhh just let me have this, let the baby live)

Thanks for the ask!

[rucow]

hi don't mind me i'm just doing some oc stuff for my middle earth/the hobbit character :D

character name: paddy species: dwelf (half dwarf, half elf) age: 87 (young adult) height: 4'11 art and stuff: 1, 2, 3 fanfic playlist PLACE IN SOCIETY

✖ FINANCIAL – wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty paddy literally lives in a secluded area of a magic/cursed forest (mirkwood) where she's away from any civilisation and relies on her own food to survive, with only rare trips to human villages where she can trade for useful items :)

✖ MEDICAL – fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged she's very healthy and doesn't get sick, thanks to her elf blood!

✖ CLASS OR CASTE – upper / lower / middle / working / unsure she's not part of society anymore after she left the wood elves she had grown up with (they weren't very nice to her)

✖ EDUCATION – qualified / unqualified / studying she didn't have the privilege of getting an education, but she really wants to learn! she wants to study anything at all. she just loves information and she also wants to learn so many crafts....all she needs is an opportunity to learn :'D

FAMILY

✖ MARITAL STATUS – married, happily / married, unhappily / engaged  / partnered / divorced / widow or widower / separated / single / it’s complicated she eventually becomes queerplatonic partners with fili. they don't get married in the traditional sense, but they form a very close bond and end up living together after erebor is reclaimed and rebuilt :) and of course kili and tauriel are there too wooo

✖ CHILDREN – has children / no children / wants children / adopted children both she and fili absolutely adore children in my mind palace they have 5 daughters and they're all little princesses aaaa!!

✖ FAMILY – close with sibling / not close with siblings / has no siblings / siblings are deceased / it’s complicated she doesn't know if she has any siblings or half-siblings or any relatives at all, and she doesn't want to know either. she's perfectly happy with the friends and family she made along the way. she belongs with the dwarves :)

✖ AFFILIATION – orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by both parents / it’s complicated she has never known her parents, and hasn't even known if they live or not. as far as he knows, she just sprung from the earth one day. however, when she was already grown up, she did learn from an inheritance letter (she can't read yet but the courier told her that it's an inheritance) that one of her parents had passed away, which helps her come to the conclusion that one of her parents must have belonged to one of the mortal races, which also makes her ponder her own heritage because she knows she's not quite an elf but also doesn't know what she is exactly ahhh..

TRAITS & TENDENCIES

✖ disorganized / organised / in between you don't want her in charge of organising anything, ever. she's so so messy

✖ close-minded / open-minded / in between she's SO curious and interested in other people. she's very odd herself and doesn't have a notion of what "normal" is, so she just accepts others as they come without questioning them :)

✖ cautious / reckless / in between she's typically cautious, but she has her moments of acting recklessly, especially in order to protect others :'D

✖ patient / impatient / in between she has a looot of time on her hands

✖ outspoken / reserved / in between she's sociable but not in a partying sort of sense. she loves getting to know others and she craves friendship and companionship, but doesn't like loud crowds and such

✖ leader / follower / in between she can guide others, but overall she's a supporter more than anything

✖ sympathetic / unsympathetic / in between

✖ optimistic / pessimistic / in between

✖ hardworking / lazy / in between

✖ cultured / uncultured / in between she's SOOO interested in other cultures, dwarven culture especially. she's very sheltered and has never met many people but she's so curious about them!!!

✖ loyal / disloyal / in between she's loyal to those who have been good to her

✖ faithful / unfaithful / in between

SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION

✖ SEXUALITY – heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / omnisexual / demisexual she's on the ace spectrum definitely. she experiences aesthetic attraction more than any other type

✖ SEX – sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable not at all the most important thing in her life :'D

✖ ROMANCE – romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable she can't quite differentiate between platonic and romantic love but she craves it all the same!

✖ SEXUALLY – sexually adventurous / sex experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious / uninterested she's never been close to anyone, that's all i can really say :'D

ABILITIES

✖ COMBAT SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none paddy is stronger than she looks, but she is completely against violence and will always try to talk her way out of conflicts (she's the type to tie up any threat and then make them pinky promise they'll be nice before she lets them go free haha)

✖ LITERACY SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none she can't read or write, but she's a quick and very eager learner so she learns easily! it's fili who teaches her to read, and kili and ori help her practice as well :) it's the first time kili ever puts this much effort into studying too PFF

✖ ARTISTIC SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none she loves to sing and dance and if you give her a paintbrush she'll have sooo much fun with it. she's got an artistic soul

✖ TECHNICAL SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none she may not be good with stone or metal like dwarves are, but she can work clay. she built her own clay house and her own water well, and she has grown her own (extremely disorganised) garden and whatnot...she also sews her own clothes. she's capable enough :)

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

(iii)

O-Oh...really? I-I'm sorry, I thought-!? I-I should have checked! I-! Uh-!?

H-Hey, hey, she's not trying to freak you out! We're not mad, we promise. We just wanna know what's going on is all.

*sigh* I am very sorry. I assumed you have been clued in on what was going on.

Let me explain. As I said before, my family are the current property managers of this estate, and part of our business is to keep the place well-maintained. In exchange, we're free to use it for whatever we wish. Though we typically rent it out for parties, weddings, or wakes.

Not too long ago...I would say probably a day or two ago...We had a message from the original owner of the home. They said that if possible, they'd like to move back in with their new family. He described them and gave us a few names, so I thought that he was referring to you.

Who's the original home owner?

His name is Nagito Komaeda. Please tell me I'm talking to the right people...

N-Nagito!? Nagito told you to invite us here!?

And...he says we can LIVE in this place!?

That would explain why Seiko sent us that location. Nagito probably gave her the address and asked her to relay it through us.

Right...I remember now...Nagito's family was pretty wealthy, but I didn't think his old home was still standing.

Mr Komaeda probably has an attachment to this place that he's not so quick to let go. This mansion is big with 10 bedrooms or so, and can cater to many people. So when he told me that there were 15 or 16 people he wanted to stay here, it was more than reasonable.

Pardon me for overstepping my boundaries, but you ARE Mr. Komaeda's family, aren't you? I never knew he had so many relatives, but...

Well, we're not blood related, but...You could say that we were, yeah...

Past-tense?

We've had our differences with Komaeda. So the fact that he's willing to let us stay here is-

Probably an apology.

Apology?

Whether he was clued in on it or not, Nagito aided in the destruction of Jabberwock Island; our old home. He's probably planning on letting us live here henceforth, as means of apologizing for that. Even though he knows that it's no replacement.

Well...I mean...

*Hiyoko gently bounces in the armchair.

As far as apologies go...this is a pretty good one...

Um...I understand that you might have your differences with Mr Komaeda...And you have no obligation to live here if you don't want to, he made that quite clear.

But...can I at least finish showing you around the house before you make a final decision?

Of course. Thank you for this.

——————————————————————

*Adjacent to the living room is a dining hall that could easily seat twenty guests at its long mahogany table. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead, casting a dazzling display of light onto the gleaming silverware and fine china that adorns the table. The walls are lined with oil paintings of ancestors long past, their stern faces watching over the room with an air of authority.

!!?? Where's the kitchen! I gotta see the kitchen!

Yeah, me too, I'm starving!

Akane! Teruteru! D-Don't run! Wait for me!

*Teruteru, Akane, and Ryuji all rush out to the room off the side, drawn by the familiar air of a high-class kitchen. Their excited exclamations can be heard through the doorway.

Hmmm...

*Sonia, meanwhile, takes great interest in the pictures on the wall. Her eyes trace the many people in the Komaeda line until she gets to the last picture.

You're free to take these pictures down and stash them away if they're not to your liking. We keep them up to remember the family.

It's alright. Who is this young man in the last picture?

No Place Like Home.

Hey! We're back!

Ah. Finally. We were starting to get worried.

*Around the same time as all of this, Mahiru, Izuru, Chiaki and Akane meet up with the rest of the Remnants of Despair on a street not too far away from the outskirts of Tokyo, after getting a message to meet up from Seiko.

We just went back to Akane's house to check up on Eden and the others. After everything that happened, we needed to know if they were still okay.

Understandable...

By the way...Mikan...Should you really be here? Aren't the medical staff at the Future Foundation kind of hard-pressed right now?

While it's true they could use my expertise, I'm not the only capable nurse the Future Foundation have. Besides, with the number of people, we need to take a break every now and then, otherwise we'll collapse ourselves.

I did actually do my own rounds when I went to visit her and bring her something to eat. Based on my "pearfect analysise" it'll take a few days to get everyone back on their feet.

Ah, fair enough.

But are you sure that this is reason enough to pull yourself away from the work?

Seiko mentioned to me that it was important. Besides, I haven't seen her since we got back to the Future Foundation yesterday morning.

Yeah, me neither. But she texted me to let me know she was alright.

Considering she sent the message to all of us...then yes, I imagine it is important.

Do you think it might have something to do with Nagito? Seiko was the last person to have contact with him before he disappeared, after all.

...Maybe...I guess I would like some information if that is the case...

Ryuji, you have the address she sent. Can you lead the way?

With pleasure. Follow me.

——————————————————————

Hm...This is the address...

Here? But...we're basically in the middle of nowhere.

We are quite far removed from the other residences...But we're not THAT far away...

Based on the way I'm looking at it, where we should be going should be at the top of this hill...

*Ryuji continues to lead the way until the Remnants come across a pathway. Following it up the hill, they eventually find what they're looking for.

Uh...Woah...!

Holy...!

*A gothic mansion stands tall in front of them, silhouetted by the rising sun. The windows are narrow and arched, allowing only faint glimpses of the darkness within. The building's age shows in the cracks in the brick, but it is still well kept despite this.

What...is this place...?

This is where Seiko told us to gather? Why here of all places?

Are we even allowed inside this place? It kind of looks like some old Victorian tourist site.

Ibuki, this is Japan, not England. We didn't live through the Victorian era.

You don't know that.

Mm...Is creepy...

So are we going in or not? Natsumi doesn't like the look of this place.

[brawlingdiscontent]

the men of metal, menacing with golden face, 3/?

a.k.a sequel to terrible with the brightness of gold

(cherik fic, viking au, subtle a/b/o, mature rating)

(part one) (part two)

Hi all, I am so sorry for the space between these updates! - I am so close to finishing my PhD (not in any history or medieval studies field, lol) and things are just really hectic with revisions, publications and syllabi, etc.

A reminder that the last chapter (from 5000 years ago) ended with Charles being graphically/violently threatened by a mysterious man. (See the link above if you’d like to re-read it.

Warnings: Slightly gory description, mentions/implications of violence and sexual assault, child death (not Charles’ kids)

----

In the end, they don't set off that afternoon. 

It’s decided in a council, a strategy meeting that Charles is not invited to, and reported to him curtly by Lehnsherr later that day that if they start off early enough it’s only most of a day’s ride to Eoforowic, and is the preferable alternative to the vulnerability of camping overnight. 

He sees almost no one before the Danish king returns to the tent bearing an evening meal. 

The man in question has forgone the advisors and trailing pages, leaving his subordinates behind for the night, as no loud voices or other signs announce his arrival. The denizens of the camp are likely off savouring the hours of daylight that remain in varied nefarious ways.  The long summer nights are not yet over, but in the tent it’s darker, shadowed but not yet dim enough to warrant a candle or fat lamp. The canvas walls seem to glow faintly with the strange quality of early evening light.

Charles has arranged himself in a defensive position, seated at the small table on the lone chair facing the tent flap. He took advantage of his time alone to redistribute a number of the furs from the main pile, making the corner where he intends once again to sleep more comfortable and well-padded. Together with the extra things Alex brought him--when, under the watchful eyes of the guards, they risked exchanging only a nod to confirm his task’s success--he fashioned a warm berth for himself. His current placement, with its slight chill, is a tactical necessity. He straightens in the hard, wooden seat. It’s best to avoid being caught in a prone position lest Lehnsherr take it as an invitation. 

When he enters, Lehsherr carries in two rough-hewn, steaming wooden bowls balanced atop an extra stool. 

“You must be hungry.” 

Charles scans him for ulterior motives, finding none for now. He hasn’t eaten since the food that was left for him this morning, but can’t seem to muster up much of an appetite. 

“Yes. Thank you,” he says anyway. He needs to keep his strength up. 

Lehnsherr sets the bowls on the small table, nudging one slightly towards Charles, and the stool beside it. He then turns away, once again going through the routine of divesting himself of his gear. If he notices or has any feelings about Charles’ rearrangement of his space he says nothing, leaving Charles to return to his own thoughts.

That afternoon, after the monstrous man retreated, slinking off to some other part of the camp while Charles stood shaken, Charles’ guards had suddenly and conspicuously reappeared.

As he was escorted back to Lehnsherr’s tent, Charles had, briefly, turned over the possibility of telling him what happened. Of what could be construed as nothing other than a violent threat. But the man hadn’t actually done anything, hadn’t even touched Charles. And what, even, were the chances that Lehnsherr would believe him—or that he would care? In any case what exactly could he expect the Dane to do? The bear-man, whoever he is, must be powerful, as he contrived some way—whether by bribery or sheer command—to send the guards away from their positions outside the tent. 

—Or, the thought had occurred to him, both disturbing and the most plausible yet, perhaps Lehnsherr had sent the man to threaten him, to warn him off and keep him in line. It is this possibility that is nearest in his mind as Lehnsherr wanders the tent.

“I trust you found your men well?” Lehnsherr questions, not turning from where he is folding his gambeson.

Charles contemplates several responses. Acerbic: ‘Alive would be a more accurate understanding.’ Another part of him wants to respond in anger, Logan’s blackened eye, the morning’s events, urging him to confront and accuse Lehnsherr. It’s an urge he knows is at least partly the product of fear. He presses his palms flat against the wood of the table and feels its uneven surface press back. In the end, exhausted, and unwilling to cause a fuss, he settles on, “I did,” then turns towards the bowl before him.

The food is hot, rabbit this time. Likely commandeered from one of the many the braziers and fire pits that dot the camp as he doubts Lehnsherr has had time for hunting. It is good, and Charles feels some appetite flare again, even when Lehnsherr has divested enough weapons and layers and joins him at the table.

A silence falls between them, not exactly awkward, but not quite comfortable either. On Charles’ end, it stems from reservation. Lehnsherr, conversely, seems content not to speak.

Charles steals surreptitious glances between bites. He studies the lines of the other man’s face trying to puzzle him out as the shadows in the tent begin to lengthen. 

He’s a man become even more confusing and inscrutable after the day’s events. If Lehnsherr had sent that beast of a man to threaten him in place of doing so himself, it speaks to a capacity for sophisticated psychological manipulation, one that goes beyond and complicates his reputation for sheer brutality. For all of Charles’ careful planning he hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Lehnsherr might be worse than Shaw. He needs to know who he’s—getting into bed with, his mind supplies—getting involved with. Only then can he have any hope to defend himself. For who can say what will happen to whatever appeal he has—the tenuous sexual hold that had checked Lehnsherr the night before—once Lehnsherr finally gets what he wants and is sated. What then can Charles possibly do to hold him back, should he prove monstrous? 

He must have been more transparent in his observation than he realized, an act which once again is misinterpreted. 

“Relax, your Highness.” Lehnsherr says.  “I’ll honour your wish to wait. I won’t touch you.”  

“Until we are married,” Charles says aloud if only to remind himself, tracking with his eyes the slow advance of a line of shadow across the table.

“Until we are married,” Lehnsherr agrees, his voice carrying notes of something that has Charles turning back studiously to his food to avoid analyzing.

...

The sun is just ghosting above the horizon when they assemble to head off the next morning, gently bathing the plain in its orange-red glow. There’s a morning chill carried in the wind that batters at Charles’ cheeks. It wipes away the bleariness of the early hour, and makes him glad that extra furs were among the items that he’d requested Alex fetch. And yet the last edges of summer are holding on; it’s nothing compared to the winter they’ll face once the seasons change and even the memories of warmth fade.

Lehnsherr had woken him just before dawn, and they’d had a hurried breakfast in the tent by the light of a flickering taper. More of the flat, dry bread and some of the season’s last berries, foraged from a nearby bush.

They’ll be going overland to Eoforwic. It’s the slower route than sailing up the coast, which tells Charles that either Lehnsherr doesn’t want their journey observed or reported, or that he’s uncertain of what awaits them in Eoforwic.

Scanning the group, Charles counts about fifty gathered, all told. Enough to defend themselves if it came down to it, but still a small enough party to travel relatively unobtrusively. 

His horse gives a restless shuffle, tugging gently on the reins in his hands. A nobleman's former mount, certainly. Fine little features stand out in the saddle, tack, and gear. The rivets in the saddle bags are detailed in a star motif, points radiating out in blades of light, as only the very wealthy could afford. It was probably scavenged from its slain owner, or, optimistically, was given up by a defeated city relinquishing its riches. Londres had given up several hundred horses in the surrender.  

Lehnsherr, who’d gone off on an unnamed errand after seeing Charles matched with a horse, approaches once more. He’s leading not only a horse of his own, but a woman. Charles recognizes her dark eyes and small stature from the previous morning. 

“Charles,” Lehnsherr says without ceremony, “this is Angel. She’s here to assist you.”

He looks back over at her, as she returns his gaze placidly. Assist him? The road, travelling rough as they are, is no place for an attendant. Then, focusing on her smooth expression, it all clicks into place.

Assist him. Ha. More like spy on him. He quickly re-assesses the meeting he interrupted yesterday as an intelligence report. Interesting. Sebastian, with his more traditionalist views, would likely not have thought to assign such a job to a beta or omega woman. 

He manages, “a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Angel.” It’s a lie, of course, but Charles was raised with manners, and she can’t help the assignment she's been tasked with. While Charles is fairly confident in his charm,  Angel proves just as enigmatic as her commander, offering merely a hint of a smile and a raised eyebrow before turning to see to her own mount.

With eyes on him secured, Lehnsherr seems relatively content to leave him alone, as he heads up towards the front of the column to rally the troops.

They set off, and Charles easily falls towards the back of the group, ghosted by Angel. If he had any remaining doubts about her occupation, they dissipate after watching her subte, silent moments, even on horseback.

Travelling en masse, they alternate bursts of speed with walking breaks to keep a sustainable pace for the horses.

He is content to pass the first canter course just relishing the abandon of the pace, the uneven terrain below the horses’ hooves. The sun gradually climbs higher until he can feel the warmth of it on his hair, and the wind blows across his face. He basks in the experience of being out in the open, running wild (if not free) after six months of siege. 

The dusty roadside is lined here and there with dots of blue chicory, long stems stretching up tenaciously towards the sky. A flock of chaffinches, startled by their appearance, burst in flight. His spy, Angel, seems to have melted away into the group, perhaps prefering to operate in her usual mode when her targets don’t know she’s there. It is tempting to forget the circumstances and enjoy the moment. 

But Charles is too pragmatic, hardened by bitter experience underlined by recent events, to let this lapse in Lehnsherr’s attention (Angel aside) go to waste.

In the first walking break, he looks around at the stragglers in the second half of the party for promising targets of some reconnaissance of his own. Just ahead and to his left are two burly men engaged in animated discussion. Inching subtly closer, he’s disappointed but not surprised to find that they’re speaking Danish. He has so little of the language, certainly not enough to make reliable sense of their discussion, but at the least perhaps listening might improve his facility. He listens amongst the glottal phrases for repeated sounds he might begin to decipher.

“It’s a blunt-tongued language, isn’t it?” a warm voice addresses Charles from slightly behind.

He starts and turns his body in the direction of the sound—as pleased to hear the softer tones of Saxon as he is startled at the sudden intrusion—to find another rider approaching on his right.

He’s a young man, a little younger than Charles from appearances, and clothed in unusual attire. A flat sort of cap, fashioned from a vibrant dark red material, adorns his head. His tunic, where it peeks through his furs, is woven of rich fabric: not over-ornamented, but of a quality far surpassing the coarse weaves and eclectic dress of the surrounding men. He carries himself with a cool confidence, perched lightly on his saddle, relaxed and much more poised than any other of Lehnsherr’s men.

Charles pulls gently at the reins, slowing his horse’s pace to allow the other man to draw even with him. 

Even as he takes him in, the clothing stirs a memory at the back of his mind of a childhood long ago; Muslim traders at the Norman court. The memory is an old one; Sebastian’s kingdom was an insular one and didn’t get on with outsiders, let alone cultured guests from the learned centres of the world. 

“Forgive me for startling you, Your Highness,” the man says. Despite Charles’ deliberate choice to leave his circlet behind at the tent, it seems that Lehnsherr’s scene in the banquet hall the other night has left him no chance of anonymity.

“That’s quite alright. Though, you seem to have me at a disadvantage.”

“The name’s Armando, sir.”

“Armando.” He says, rolling the name around in his mouth. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” It's the second time today he’s offered these words, but he finds he can be more sincere with them when not faced with a spy. “And what is your role here?” He’s a figure somewhat misplaced among the rough-and-tumble Danes. 

“I’m a physician. Born in Cordoba, and trained in Alexandria.” 

A frisson of excitement runs through Charles at this announcement. “You speak Saxon very well for an Andalusian. Better than myself, and I’ve been speaking it almost since birth.” 

“Thank you. Once I had the first few, the next languages came easily enough.” He switches into Norman for the second part of explanation to demonstrate.

“How many others do you speak?” 

“Fluently? I’d say seven--maybe eight.” He cracks a broad, warm smile at Charles’ astonishment. “What can I say? I’m adaptive.” 

Mindful of his spy close at hand, Charles yet can’t hide his delight to be in the company of a fellow seeker in the pursuit of knowledge, one with personal experience of the madrasas of the learned world at that. Despite this, he tries to rein himself in before his enthusiasm overwhelms his caution. After all, no matter how much he may seem a kindred spirit, he doesn’t know Armando nor his agenda. And, after seeing firsthand the danger that lurks in the camp, he’d be a fool to count himself safe. 

They settle into a comfortable rhythm. It’s in the next walking break that Charles, between probing questions about the scientific and medical developments out of Baghdad, catches sight of a head above the crowd. His heart stutters, and he almost jerks on the reins impulsively. Riding up at the front, near Lehnsherr, but a bit off to the side. He’s easy to spot, rising nearly head-and-shoulders above the men surrounding him, stature and bearskin robe unmistakable.

“Armando, what can you tell me about that man?”

Armando follows his gaze to the front of the party, and when he sees the man to whom Charles refers seems to hesitate. 

“He goes by the name of Sabretooth. He leads one of the strongest factions among the Danish warriors.” He pauses so long that Charles thinks he might have to prompt again, before continuing. “He and his supporters are known for their unyielding savagery in battle. I’ve only ever seen the aftermath.” Armando looks towards the riders at the front, squinting into the midday sun at the outline of the man in question. His words seem improbably incongruous in the brightness of the day. “Going into battle they consume a potion to free them of inhibitions and drive away all traces of remorse. Many of his followers file their teeth, supposedly to more easily rend the flesh of their enemies. Except Sabretooth himself who they say likes the challenge of a duller edge.” 

Charles masks his disquiet with a wry remark. “No doubt a firm favourite of his Grace.” He had heard tell of such stories, whispers of viking cannibals, but had always assumed them to be over-inflations of reality. 

“You’re wrong about that, actually.” 

He looks back over, surprised. 

“I have the sense—mind you, this is just my perception—that His Grace dislikes him very much.”

Charles thinks on this. Armando’s explanation would seem to square with the disagreement he witnessed back at the camp. Furthermore, the man—Sabretooth—seems prone to unpredictable violence, of a sort that might irk someone as careful and controlled as Lehnsherr. And yet—

“If that's the case, why invite him on such a party?

Armando takes a moment to respond, looking between the two riders up ahead. “There’s a common saying in Alexandria. It translates roughly to: a wise man holds his enemies close to his breast but far from his heart.”  

Charles nods in agreement as he notes the appropriateness of it, thinking of the justification he had used to convince Lehnsherr to take him along even as he once again reconfigures his knowledge of the man. He, too, is an enemy Lehnsherr has held close. But before he can take the train of thought much further, the low blast of a horn signals the return to a canter, and it’s lost in the clatter of advancing hooves.

…

In the late afternoon, the first sign of smoke on the horizon alerts them. It curls above the treetops a little ways off the road. Too dense and heavy to be from a cooking fire. 

The nearby homestead is set back from the road, but after the party halts at another horn blast a few riders break away from the pack in its direction. Charles pulls his horse past the crowd of remaining men and follows after them.

It’s a desolate scene. What was formerly a cottage now smouldering ashes but for the charred edges of a door frame still standing. The field of crops outside is churned up and scattered. Crushed stalks of barley that were trodden under horses’ hooves are beaten into the mud. A handful of slaughtered animals lie along the path. But what is most evident is the woman crouched in front of the remains of the house, keening in grief. Her ragged dress is torn, at her side a small child with a soot in their hair and clothes.

Lehnsherr has already dismounted, handed off his reins to another rider in order to survey the scene. Charles follows suit without a thought, and once he gets closer, it unfolds before him tragic inevitability.

He sees the dead man lying a few feet away from the woman and child, his grotesquely splayed body telling the story of his violent end. Then, clutched in the woman’s arms, a boy. A mere child, perhaps thirteen summers. His small eyes are closed almost peacefully, his forehead smeared with clotted blood. 

Armando, who has followed Charles from the road, is quick to be rallied to aid. 

Insensible in grief, the woman seems to barely register their presence as they cautiously approach. The young child, likely too small to comprehend the events that have taken place, tugs on her dress to get her attention, until she at last looks up at them. Her gaze is empty as one beyond reach, already crossed over to the next world.

It strikes Charles deeply, who freezes, feeling her disconnection mirrored in his own. Dissociation is a strategy he’s used to make himself hard, hiding his emotions in a fortress to protect them from a scene that has and will continue to play out countless times across the countryside. Recognizing it now in this woman, he’s struck by its haunting unnaturalness, the hollowness it invokes.

Armando, who had gently nudged the woman aside to conduct an examination, looks up and shakes his head. 

The young child shrieks suddenly, drawing back and cowering behind their mother, who, past caring, doesn’t noticeably react. The cause is soon clear: having finished attentively examining the scene and damage, Lehnsherr is making his way over. To his credit, in response to the child’s dismay he slows his approach and spreads his hands wide in the universal symbol of non-aggression. It’s the only reason that Charles makes no move to stop him as he nears the woman and child, and crouches down.

Charles watches as he starts a conversation in Saxon, gently asking a question or two. He thinks he hears Lehnsherr quietly mutter a few words following the woman’s stilted responses. Then the man pulls an aged leather drawstring pouch from somewhere on his person, and produces several small, glinting coins which he hands to the woman.

A weregild.

Blood price for so much death and evil, paid for with some mere pieces of metal. He rails internally at his own impotence, safe behind a palace wall while people are suffering; dying. And at the authors of the violence, as Lehnsherr’s actions here have surely confirmed, the very men he rides with. 

He’s overwhelmed by a helpless rage that washes over him like a tide. 

“A few coins” the words come out flat, subdued. “Do you think they can repair the loss of a husband, bring back her child?” It’s an accusation but empty, anger deserting him as quickly as it arrived for a dull hopelessness. 

Lehnsherr turns to him, delayed. His gaze is a bit distant, as though he’d forgotten Charles was there.

“It will bring them food,” he says levelly, “buy them shelter for the winter. Nothing can bring back the dead.”

Charles stands there for an indeterminable span of time, consumed by the endless cruelties of men. By this tangible reminder of the pain caused and lives lost to men—no, not men, beasts, seeking only personal glory, an enrichment of power.

“You generals and your wars,” he says coldly and turns away, the smoke still stinging in his eyes.

[citizensmth]

Alastor’s accent and the Golden Age of American radio

I really adore Alastor’s character so far. That eccentric strawberry dandy is just dripping with a slightly sinister sort of genteel charm. But I particularly love his accent/affectation. That over-enunciated ‘old time radio’ voice is a very specific style of speaking with an interesting history that I think adds a lot of richness to his character.

If you’ve ever wanted to know about where Alastor’s accent comes from then grab some tea, settle in, and read on! I am a huge history nerd, my first job was in radio, and I can write for days when I’m in the mood.

Alastor’s speaking style is based on the Trans-Atlantic accent. This accent is also called the Mid-Atlantic accent (as in ‘middle of the Atlantic ocean’, not the Mid-Atlantic region of the US). It is an invented style of speaking that combines elements of British English with American English to create a hybrid accent with no geographical roots. This faux British style of speaking was extremely popular among the American upper-class in the first half of the 20th century. Wealthy Americans were imitating elements of aristocratic British speech as far back as the 1800′s. By the end of the 19th century, this learned affectation was increasingly associated with East Coast urban elites.

About the same time, this style was also becoming popular in both formal public speaking and the theater. Regional American accents were not desirable so serious aspiring actors trained to imitate British speech on stage. Many stage actors during the early 1900′s embraced the works of phoneticians like William Tilly who wanted to create a universal standard of class based English. Tilly and his followers heavily promoted the teaching of this invented style of ‘proper’ American English pronunciation. Private New England preparatory schools in particular embraced this form of English instruction.

Some elements of the Trans-Atlantic accent include:

Lack of rhoticity (means you tend to drop the “R” at the end of words).

Soft vowels. Example: The A in Dance pronounced as ‘ah’ and not like ‘ant’.

Sharp, clipped emphasis on the “T”. American English frequently softens “T” into a “D” sound. Hit that T like it owes you money.

So... how did a sound associated with East Coast urban elites and high culture become synonymous with the Golden Age of radio?

Early audio technology was extremely primitive and radio broadcasting didn’t take off as a form of electronic mass media until the 1920′s. Prior to WW1, radio was dominated by hobbyists and amateurs experimenting with crude homemade equipment. Microphone technology was in it’s infancy and so was recording technology. Early radio experimenters were forced off the airwaves at the outbreak of WW1 to make room for military use; a major setback for the development of the technology.  The first radio stations didn’t become operational until 1920 and a commercial plug-in receiver with speakers wasn’t widely available until the late 1920′s. The first feature length movie featuring both sound and spoken audio wasn’t released until 1927 and it took about 4 years for Hollywood to complete the transition from silent films to ‘talkies’.

The biggest problem was that early microphones really struggled to pick up natural speaking voices and had a particularly hard time with base tones. Early receivers also lacked the ability to effectively reproduce natural base tones. One had to learn how to speak in a manner that could be captured and reproduced into something intelligible. The Trans-Atlantic accent with it’s clipped nasal pronunciation that elevated treble tones and strongly enunciated individual words was ideally suited to early radio technology. Performers were trained in this style of speaking and it formed the foundation for the classic ‘radio announcer’ sound of the era. That the accent was geographically neutral and associated with cultured respectability was also a plus. Microphone and radio receiver technology improved greatly by 1940 but by then the sound had become part of radio culture. Although you could now speak in a more natural voice, announcers continued to invoke the old affectation in order to sound like ‘real newsmen’. The Trans-Atlantic accent rapidly declined in use after WW2 due to continued technological advancements, an emerging middle class, changing social attitudes, and a decline in schools willing to teach it. In a relatively short time, it completely disappeared from every day use.

So there you have it. A little history about Alastor’s accent and where it fits into America’s Gilded Age and the Golden Age of radio. No one organically talks this way so Alastor would have had to deliberately learn this artificial style at some point in his life. His style of speaking also firmly dates him to the 1930′s. Lastly, the fact that his speech sounds like it is being played through an old radio receiver is super cool.

That’s enough of my sleep deprived word dumps for one night.

[certified-sane]

I'm a main character. It is not by choice. The list of weird and unique and sensational is overwhelming and exhausting. I went to meet some new people and I forgot how people look the first time they hear my day-to-day. But today's pain in my ass is not present. It is past but I've been doing this long enough that I see where I'm going and I'm screaming NO! GOD! PLEASE NO! like Michael Scott.

I did 23andMe before I conceived a child because I wanted to check me and my wife for any DNA hints. It was a good idea. We both carry markers for increased IQs if breastfed, for instance, so the formula debate was a non starter.

And that's how these stories start. Something totally logical but not common because I see the world just 15 degrees off normal which starts me down all these paths.

My DNA is super cool and I start checking out my ancestry. My largest concentration is not on Cuba as I thought, but some islands off NW Africa with a few port cities around Africa, Spain, and New Foundland. At this point, I try to leave it alone. I don't want an adventure. Ten years go by, my son is 10, he's making his own life, and doesn't need me as much. I return to the DNA mystery.

I have a huge DNA spike on something called the Savage Islands. Never heard of it and I'm a geography buff. There's like no information. The only book on it is a self-published book but it's been verified by others and it's the main source of information for the Wikipedia page. And I'm just... No. Please no. It was only used for pirates and it is now a heavily guarded wildlife sanctuary that Spain and Portugal fight over depsite not one penny of profit in any but there have been several unsuccessful expeditions to find the buried treasure that is confirmed by primary sources. No. No.

I put the book away and swear it off.

My dad is wasting away and he separated from us so I looked up where my grandparents' graves are to let them know they should contact me and I look at their names for the first time in decades and I realize my grandmother's first name is not Cuban. And their last name isn't even Spanish. I get curious about their names so I do a little research because I can't hear a plot train until it is an inch from my face apparently.

My grandfather had a Spanish last name as his middle name. I remember that having two last names is a thing in Latin. Eventually I find out that he made his last name his middle when he defected to America in 1969 at the height of the Cold War (he was Fidel Castro's cardiologist so the US swiped him, his wife, and their son). Like I said, it's just main character stuff all the way down. He took his wife's last name as his last name when he came to America.

So he had a Cuban name and she didn't. So I go looking for her history. Now when I knew her she had severe dementia, white hair, age spots, light papery skin, and spoke zero English. And it was an accepted fact that she was Cuban.

She was born in Galway, Ireland. Her family is 100% Irish going back as far as recorded history. Weird.

She was born in 1914. Know what was happening to babies in Ireland in 1914? They were being sold. So that's how she got to Cuba. My grandfather was a wealthy socialite. So his or another family bought her probably. My grandfather married a white woman and took her white name before defecting to America with money and social status.

So set that aside because that's what we call a subplot.

So my DNA is on a pirate island without explanation. I start looking up pirates. I'm looking for other explanations. I'm telling people my ancestors were sailors at this point because it's so fucking goofy to be a descendant of pirate-pirates but it gets so much worse.

Using the DNA in parts of the world and the time since I last had a native of that place in my DNA I'm able to construct a timeline of my different ancestors. My relatives get on 23 and me and I'm able to account for the non-pirates from their DNA.

The pirates are definitely ancestors of my father, himself a career criminal. (And that is a story that would go on forever but if you hated the Satanic Panic in the 80s you can blame him)

Now I've got Irish DNA and I've got an Irish grandma so I'm just chugging along with genealogy and it suddenly dawns on me that my Irish DNA is from my mother's mother only. My grandma is not my grandma. My dad's mom wasn't his mom and I don't think he knew. And my mom would tell me my dad was so spoiled because he had a 24/7 nanny that treated him like a son. And I want to stop. I don't need more backstory. But I have everything laid out in front of me and I'm able to figure out some of the ships my pirate ancestors were on.

And I feel I have to say pirate ancestors because my last native Inuit DNA was all alone in New Foundland with nothing around it at all. My only DNA on the Western hemisphere is recent Cubans and one Inuit born around 1710 in New Foundland. I was really excited that maybe I was related to an explorer but the years don't match perfectly. You know what does match perfectly? A pirate taking over that town 1720-1721. The only ship was the Fortune. The only captain was Bartholomew Roberts.

As in Black Bart. As in the Dread Pirate Roberts.

You know where he went after there? To fucking Cape Verde which confirms with DNA. Then to Madagascar and Mozambique which... confirms with DNA.

So I have a list of pirates that worked with Roberts and I see the plot forming. I see the damned adventure coming at me but it's too late. I will absolutely persue this one day. Not today or tomorrow but someday.

Because the pirates my ancestor worked with are the same pirates who died with unfound buried treasure and my DNA is on a very weird island that the ancient Greeks believed were home of Gorgons and that Portugal and Spain are super possessive of despite no income from it and it is patrolled by armed guards 24/7 and that island was only used for burying treasure.

So let me tell you what is going to happen because I've been down these railroad tracks before. I'm going to vacation in Cape Verde or the Canary Islands to see where my ancestors lived and because they are popular vacation spots and my family loves to travel internationally and we're low on remaining destinations. That is where the normal will stop.

What comes after, I don't know. I can guess. A shady tour guide offering to take me by the islands to see the endangered wildlife, we run around, a literal treasure map, a realistic non-mythical explanation for Gorgons, buried treasure, dodging mercenary guards with no oversight, finding something amazing, but only managing to come back with a pocket's worth.

And a story that no one will believe. This is not what I'm choosing to happen. This is what I am compelled to do and what the unlikeliest of probabilities will conspire to make happen.

I don't even like the movie Goonies.

[missmentelle]

COVID-19, Inequality, and You

This pandemic has been a bad time in a lot of ways, but one of the most devastating impacts we’re going to see besides the death toll is the economic impact - the economic impact on real, working people, not on stock index numbers. Unemployment rates are skyrocketing, and people are being thrown into financial chaos as a result. 

But for all the talk we’ve heard during this pandemic of “we’re all in this together”, and “we’re all in the same boat”, it’s important to remember that, financially, we’re really, really not. Job losses, evictions and health crises are not equally distributed; if anything, this pandemic has been a stark reminder of inequality as the wealth gap grows wider and wider. 

My own life has been a weird cross-section of the ways that the pandemic has economically affected different people in very different ways - my mother has completely lost her job at a seasonal tourist restaurant that will likely go out of business, my brother’s hours at his campus security job have been cut as the school moves online, my boyfriend is seeing his savings rise as he goes out less but makes exactly the same salary at his financial tech job, and I’ve fielded multiple job offers through this pandemic as government grants for social services boom in my region in anticipation of a coming homelessness crisis.  

The news has been reporting on unemployment numbers and shuttered businesses, but there hasn’t been a lot of in-depth coverage about the ways that this is really going to affect people’s lives. There will be a lot of unexpected consequences to this pandemic if governments don’t step in to provide relief, including:

‘Eviction freezes’ are throwing tenants into debt without protecting their housing. Many places have put moratoriums on evictions during the pandemic, which is great. You don’t want a sudden surge in mass homelessness during a pandemic. But “no evictions” does not mean “no rent” - people who are currently being protected from eviction are still being charged rent, and their arrears are growing every month. As soon as eviction protections expire - which is set to happen very soon in many places - landlords can move forward with evicting tenants, going after their back rent, sending their debt to collection agencies and destroying their credit scores. 

A lot of people are about to lose most of their possessions. If you get evicted, your parents or friend might have room for you to move in with them for a while. They probably do not have room for your couch, dresser, bed, table, desk, bookshelves, TV and an entire apartment full of stuff. Putting your things in storage is an option, but you need to be able to pack and transport all of your things to the storage unit and pay for the unit every month. You could try selling the stuff you can’t take with you, but it may be difficult with so many other people also struggling financially, and you may have to leave on short notice. A lot of people who get evicted will end up abandoning a lot of their stuff, which they’ll have to re-purchase all over again to get back on their feet. 

People with low wages are disproportionately likely to lose their jobs. If you work as a software engineer, you’re probably still employed. If you work as a hotel maid, there’s a good chance you’ve lost your job or had your hours cut to nearly nothing. The jobs that are most impacted by shutdowns are jobs in the service and hospitality industry, and they tend to be low-wage, hourly jobs that cannot be done from home - bartenders, servers, hotel clerks, and dishwashers are way more likely to have lost their jobs than lawyers, accountants, engineers and college professors. In many ways, the people who are getting kicked the hardest right now are the ones who could least afford it. 

Not every university will survive this pandemic. With a lot of universities and colleges scrambling to figure out whether to have in-person fall semesters, the future of a lot of post-secondary institutions looks bleak. Many students are choosing to take a year off or defer their admission rather than deal with online courses that have been haphazardly thrown together. On top of that, it’s not clear if international students will be able to attend university abroad this year, or if they even want to take the risk. This adds up to a whole lot of lost tuition money, leaving some universities with no way to keep operating - at least one American university has already permanently closed its doors because of the pandemic. The big players - Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Columbia - will probably pull through, but smaller colleges are at serious risk of going under, leaving their students in limbo and at risk of not finishing their disrupted degrees. 

A lot of people are about to go from “poor” to “disabled”. The people most likely to contract coronavirus are the workers who have to interact with the public every day - not only nurses and doctors, but grocery store workers, delivery people, ride-sharing and taxi drivers, transit workers and janitorial staff. Those who survive are at risk of life-long complications of coronavirus, including permanently reduced lung capacity - that’s not great when you need to work a physically demanding job. A lot of people are about to find themselves in a situation where they are no longer able to do their jobs due to a virus that they contracted because of their jobs. 

Many women’s careers may never recover from this. Daycares and schools are closed, and women are bearing the brunt of it. In a world where women still tend to earn less than male partners, it’s women’s careers that have taken a backseat when things get rough. Even when both partners are working from home, women are the ones overwhelmingly taking on most of the domestic and child-rearing chores, which hurts their work performance and leaves them more vulnerable to layoffs. And that’s a relatively privileged position to be in - without childcare services available, many working moms and single moms have had to quit their jobs, whether they could afford it or not, because they have no other options for their children. This kind of career disruption is something that these women may never totally recover from, especially as they try to re-enter an increasingly hostile job market. 

Black and brown people are the most affected by rising unemployment. People of colour - especially immigrants and women of colour - are facing higher rates of unemployment than other groups. Hispanic and Latina women are in particularly dire circumstances, which is alarming, as they are also the most likely to be dealing with an uncertain immigration status. People of colour - particularly women - are disproportionately likely to work in industries that have been impacted by the pandemic, like the hospitality, food service, retail, child care, beauty and personal care industries, and they face systemic racism that makes it difficult for them to advocate for safe working conditions or access adequate medical care. 

College and tourist towns are at risk of complete economic meltdown. A lot of towns or small cities depend on their local university or annual tourism to survive. A huge crowd of strangers flocks to their town for a few months per year and gives local businesses the money they need to pay for necessities year-round. My hometown is one of these places - most businesses are only open from May - September, and they make enough money during that time for everyone to scrape by for the rest of the year. Those tourists aren’t coming this year, which is something that locals have only learned as they begin to run out of last year’s money. You don’t need to work for a university or a hotel to be impacted by school and tourism shutdowns - the ripple effects will be felt by entire communities. 

Escaping domestic violence will be difficult even after lockdown ends. It’s not exactly a secret that domestic violence has skyrocketed since the global pandemic began, a fact that many experts attribute to the fact that everyone is trapped indoors together and under a lot of stress. But even as lockdown regulations start to lift in areas that handled the pandemic responsibly, victims of domestic violence will face higher-than-usual barriers to escape - many victims may have lost their jobs and burned through their savings, and may have difficulty finding a new job that can finance their escape. Victims with health issues may also be wary about going to shelters for fear they will be further exposed to the virus. 

Poor children will fall even further behind their upper-middle-class peers. I come from a part of rural eastern Canada where reliable internet access is simply not available. So for young children in the region, school effectively ended in March - they do not have the resources needed to connect to online learning. And children from rural areas aren’t the only ones missing out - more than half of all students in the United States aren’t accessing their online classes regularly, and marginalized kids are especially likely to be absent. Poor kids are staring down the barrel of an enormous education gap; they are less likely to have a stable internet connection and a device for their online learning, they are less likely to have books at home, and their parents are more likely to be essential workers who still have to go to work right now and don’t have time to teach them. Middle-class and wealthy families can afford laptops, educational software, tutors, books and time at home to educate their children - when schools are eventually back in session, the gaps between children from different socioeconomic backgrounds will probably be the widest they’ve ever been. 

Don’t get me wrong - I am not arguing that we should end lockdowns prematurely to ease the economic impact. Public health measures exist for good reason, and I don’t think any of us want to even imagine, much less live through, the personal, physical and economic devastation of letting a pandemic rage out of control and melt down our healthcare systems. Despite what many people seem to believe, managing a global pandemic is not about “health vs. economy” - letting the virus rage out of control and kill millions would devastate every economic and social system we have. The preservation of human life has to come first.

What we need instead is comprehensive action to recognize and address the issues that come with long-term quarantines and economic shutdown - we need rent relief, social safety nets and basic assured income programs to get our most vulnerable friends and neighbors through this pandemic. The world will probably never return to the “normal” that we knew before the pandemic struck, and it shouldn’t - it’s time for a new, better normal that doesn’t leave our most marginalized people behind. 

[jingabitch]

I Love Recycling

SUMMARY: wherein water is a scarce and precious resource and you are given to Jennie as her recycler.

RATING: Explicit

PAIRINGS: Jennie x reader; side Rosé x reader

WARNINGS: smut | watersports | future au | dystopian au | idol au | kai-bashing (sorry) | inherent power imbalance | some D/s dynamics

WORD COUNT: 21.6k

A/N: !!! i was honestly scared to post this and I’m still kind of nervous so I hope you guys will be kind 🥺🥺 if i get hate on this i’ll probably delete my blog altogether lmao. this is for the handful of followers who wanted blackpink watersports.

Year 2086

Most mornings, Jennie didn’t really enjoy waking up, and would sleep past noon if she didn’t have any morning appointments. Even when she did, she often snoozed her alarm until she couldn’t anymore before getting ready.

Today, however, Jennie woke up before eight in the morning, excitement making it difficult for her to go back to sleep. Instead, she came out of her bedroom to the common area of the dorm, much to the surprise of her group members.

“Unnie, what are you doing up so early?” Lisa, who was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table having some fruit for breakfast, asked.

Chaeyoung, sitting next to Lisa and nursing a cup of tea, laughed at the question. “She’s obviously excited about today,” she teased, smirking mischievously up at Jennie.

The older girl rolled her eyes and headed to the kitchen to get some coffee. “What’s wrong with being excited?” she asked when she came back to the living room, sitting across from her two bandmates. She meant to sound tough and sassy, but there was a bit of vulnerability that she couldn’t quite hide.

Hearing it, Chaeyoung immediately backtracked. “Unnie, there’s nothing wrong with being excited! We’re sorry we laughed. I think it’s really great that you’re getting a recycler.”

Jennie blew the steam off the top of her coffee mug to avoid making eye contact with her dongsaengs. “Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, I mean, this has been your dream since even before we debuted, right? We’re happy for you, really.”

That cheered Jennie up a bit, and she smiled at them. “Okay,” she accepted, grateful to have such supportive friends. Getting a recycler had been a big decision, especially since she didn’t live alone. She’d initially been nervous to broach the topic with them, terrified that they would say no to such a big commitment and having another person living in the dorm with them, but they’d been cheering her on the whole time.

It was common for idols, as well as other members of society’s rich and elite, to have recyclers. After all, water was a precious resource, and rationed to each individual or family unit based on net worth, contributions to society, and so forth. The distribution system was regulated by an algorithm so complex most people couldn’t understand it, and there were, unfortunately, people at the fringes of society who didn’t get enough water to survive.

The solution, therefore, was relatively simple and straightforward. People who weren’t assigned enough water to survive could sign up to be recyclers and be assigned to members of society who were given an excess of water, and the name was somewhat self-explanatory. Basically, recyclers… recycled the water the elites drank.

Put more bluntly, they drank pee.

It was highly regulated, of course – applicants who wanted recyclers of their own had to go through health checkups and maintain a healthy and responsible lifestyle before they were assigned a recycler. There were background checks, home visits and it was overall a very stringent selection process. Even as the only daughter of a wealthy family, Jennie hadn’t been able to qualify. It wasn’t until she was an established idol with a group and a thriving solo career that she finally got the letter informing her that she was now eligible to undergo the selection process to have a recycler if she wanted it.

And, well… she definitely did. Recyclers, because of the nature of their relationship with their assigned donators, grew very close to them, a bond that often lasted a lifetime. It was exceedingly rare for recyclers to apply for a new donator – approximately 0.1% of recyclers did, usually because their handler abused them or had contracted a disease that made it unsafe for them to continue donating their urine. Jennie did not intend on being part of that 0.1%.

As an only child, Jennie had often been lonely growing up, and after watching a documentary when she was in her teens about the intimate bond between donators and recyclers, had craved that kind of companionship. Today, a long-held dream was finally coming true, and she was going to be bringing her assigned recycler home today.

She still had a little bit of time before she was supposed to get ready, so she opened her laptop and pulled up the file she’d been sent on her recycler. The file was comprehensive – full name, picture, age, educational background and other details. Enough for Jennie to start constructing an idea of what the girl she’d been assigned would look like, but not enough for her to understand L/n Y/n, the person. Still, she supposed, there would be plenty of time for that in the coming years.

Really, the agency had done a remarkable job of finding her the perfect companion. She’d had only a few vague ideas about what she wanted – a girl, preferably, because she was just more comfortable with having a girl around 24/7, someone younger than her so she could dote on her and fulfil her older sister fantasies, and cute. The last requirement was something that she’d reluctantly added at the request of her management company. Having recyclers was a symbol of stature, and played into idols’ image of being successful and wealthy. Jennie didn’t necessarily like it, but they wouldn’t have okayed her having a recycler who wasn’t photogenic, so she’d had no choice.

As much as she knew about her recycler, Y/n didn’t know much about her at all, because she’d requested that her identity be kept strictly private. With the amount of public interest in idols’ lives, she knew her seeking a recycler would be leaked if she didn’t take the utmost care to keep it secret, and even though it was inevitable that everyone would eventually find out, she wanted to keep it to herself just for a little while. A few weeks to get to know her recycler without public scrutiny, was that too much to ask for?

Anyways, given that her recycler didn’t know anything about her or who she was, she wanted to make a good impression. She’d been thinking of what to wear for days now and hadn’t been able to decide, but now time was running out and she had to choose something fast.

“Aaaargh,” she cried, ruffling her hair in frustration as she stared at her closet. Half of her closet was Chanel and the other half was filled with assorted haute couture pieces, yet she couldn’t come up with something that she was confident meeting you in.

Hearing her scream, Jisoo slipped into her room sleepily. “What’s going on?” she asked, yawning. Jennie had woken her up, and she sat down on the bed, sighing. She wished she was still in her own bed.

“Unnie, I can’t figure out what to wear,” Jennie complained, turning to her bandmate.

Jisoo blinked at her. “Why are you having such a hard time? It’s not a big deal.”

“But I want her to like me,” Jennie whined, sticking her head back into her closet.

“She’s going to like you no matter what, Jennie-yah,” Jisoo said, her eyes drooping.

“You don’t know that! How could you possibly know that?” Jennie cried, sliding the hangers one by one along the bar in her closet to look at all her clothes.

Jisoo sighed. “Just don’t wear pants. It makes it harder to… you know.”

Jennie, who had been looking at a pair of wide-legged trousers, turned back to look at Jisoo with wide eyes. “Oh my God, that’s true,” she said, sliding it over to the right and beginning to browse through her skirts and dresses instead.

In the end, she went with a simple ensemble – a white, off-shoulder, cropped blouse with a large bow on the bottom and a short black pleated skirt. Because she was a Chanel girl at heart, she paired it with a small black Classic Flap and heeled booties.

By the time she was ready to leave, she was running late (despite her early start today!) and dashed out of the dorm, yelling a hasty goodbye to her roommates. As she walked towards her car in the underground parking lot of the dorm, she sent out a quick prayer of thanks that YG had finally lifted the ban on the members driving. This whole thing would have been all the more awkward if she’d had to have someone drive her there.

------------------------------

As she pulled into the parking lot of the Bureau of Water Distribution, Jennie pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. The security to get in was fairly rigid, since there were so many high net worth and prominent individuals who came to pick up their recyclers here. On the bright side, that meant no paparazzi, and everyone around her today would either be trained to ignore the fact that she was an idol, or famous enough that her presence wouldn’t faze them.

After parking her BMW, Jennie got out of the car and entered the building, psyching herself up to meet Y/n. It was just the most important day of her life, that’s all. You could divorce a husband, but recyclers were forever. She introduced herself at the counter and was almost immediately taken to a private room, where she was told to wait for her recycler.

With some time to kill, Jennie started looking around. The room was beautiful – marble flooring, leather couches, fancy furniture and art. This room was designed with its wealthy occupants in mind, and it showed. She squirmed in her seat nervously, her heart pounding from the nerves. If her recycler didn’t come soon, she was going to find her on the ground, unconscious.

Despite the anticipation, Jennie almost leapt out of her seat when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she said in a shaky voice as she stood up, her hands folded in front of her. The door opened and a stout lady in a pantsuit bustled in, clearly a member of the staff here from the lanyard dangling from her neck.

“Miss Kim, it’s nice to meet you. This is L/n Y/n,” she said, stepping aside so Jennie could take a good look at you.

You were clearly nervous, your eyes downcast and your hands, like hers, clasped politely in front of you. Without raising your eyes, you folded yourself into a deep bow, your torso parallel to the ground. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Kim. Thank you for choosing me as your—” Your eyes widened in shock as you saw the person who was standing in front of you for the first time.

“Right, well, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other. When you’re ready to leave, just give me a call and I’ll give you the rest of the paperwork,” the staff member said before making herself scarce.

“Thank you,” Jennie said, nodding at the staff member as she left and shut the door behind her. Then she turned her attention to you. Your clear nervousness did a lot to put her at ease – she immediately slipped into nurturing mode as she saw how vulnerable you looked. Clad in the plain dress that came standard issue for recyclers, slightly hunched over, trying to make yourself smaller… the wave of tenderness that rushed over her almost knocked her clear over.

“Come sit down,” she said, sitting on the couch herself and patting the cushion next to her in invitation.

“Okay, Miss Kim,” you said politely, making a beeline for the couch. Clearly, you’d been taught to be obedient to your donator, but this was a little excessive, Jennie thought.

“You don’t have to be that formal, Y/n-ie. You can just call me Jennie,” she reassured you. “And you can relax. I don’t know what they taught you about how recyclers are supposed to act, but I really want you to become part of my family,” she continued, placing her hands over yours, which were still clasped together tightly.

Your gaze drifted from your hands in your lap up to her, and the apparent sincerity in her gaze as she smiled at you putting you at ease. It was still terrifying, of course – you hadn’t known until just now that your mysterious donator was a world-famous idol, and you didn’t quite know how to react. Still, the earnest expression on her face had you believing that no matter what, she would be right there with you. It was a nice feeling, and you couldn’t believe that someone you’d known for about five minutes was able to make you feel this way when no one in your life had ever succeeded.

“Thank you, Miss Kim— I mean, Jennie-unnie,” you amended hastily. “Sorry, it’s just that your file only had your last name, so I got used to calling you that in my head.”

Then you realized what you’d said and flushed scarlet, much to Jennie’s delight. It was reassuring to know that she hadn’t been the only one looking over your file almost obsessively.

“Don’t worry,” Jennie said, squeezing your hands lightly. “I’ve been excited to meet you too. I know my file was pretty empty, though, so I’m happy to answer any questions you have before we sign the papers.”

“R-really?” Your eyes lit up.

Jennie chuckled. It was so easy to make you happy, it seemed. “Go wild,” she encouraged.

“Does being your recycler mean being in the public eye a lot?” you asked the first question that came to your mind.

Jennie hummed thoughtfully. “It might,” she admitted. “But we’ll all do our best to protect you, so you don’t have to worry, okay?”

You nodded as you digested that, then asked the next question. “Will I be living in the dorm with the other members?”

“Yeah, at least for a couple of years. When the lease is up on the apartment, we probably won’t renew it. It’s weird for us to be so old and still living together.” Catching your dumbfounded expression, she laughed. “Why? Are you excited to meet the others?”

At her question, you immediately ducked your head, though she could still see how red your ears were. She laughed in delight. “Y/n, are you a fan?”

You yanked your hands out from under hers to cover your face, which was hot to the touch. “Maybe,” you confessed miserably. She definitely found this weird now and would request a different recycler; you’d screwed things up before it even began.

“That’s so sweet,” Jennie cooed, patting your head. “Don’t worry, I’m sure everyone will love you.”

That didn’t sound like she was upset. Peeking at her from between your fingers, you saw that she was smiling, so you slowly lowered your hands. “Really?” you asked with a small voice, and she nodded at you, still smiling.

“Okay.” You smiled shyly back at her, and Jennie could barely resist cooing over you.

“Are you ready to get the papers now?” she asked, and you nodded.

She used the intercom in the room to call the staff member back, and the paperwork was quickly dealt with. You both signed the copies of the agreement presented to you – one for each of you, and one for the Bureau’s records – and that was it, you were free to go. Before the staff member left, however, Jennie stopped her to ask where the restroom was.

“What? You have a brand-new recycler right there!” the staff member barely got out through peals of laughter. Jennie looked over at you and flushed. She’d asked out of habit, forgetting that this was your whole purpose.

“Take as much time as you need, you can leave when you’re ready. Have a nice day!” she said as she left. Jennie and you stared at each other with wide eyes for an awkward moment before you looked away, clearing your throat.

“Uh, right… how do you want to do this?” you mumbled.

Jennie gulped and looked around. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet. “Uhh… how do you prefer to…?” she asked uncertainly.

Your gaze snapped up to hers. “I’ve never practiced it,” you told her. “Donators usually like to train their recyclers themselves according to their preferences.”

“Oh…” Jennie was clearly way out of her depth, floundering for help, and you felt a deep tug inside you that compelled you to provide that guidance.

You placed your hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back onto the couch, then got on your knees in front of her. It was here that you hesitated – was it too intimate to help her remove her clothing? Was this something she would expect of you? – and you slowly raised your hands, giving her plenty of time to take off her own panties if she wanted to.

Instead, she continued staring down at you as you slipped your hands under her skirt, resting against the smooth, warm skin of her hips. It boggled your mind that you were in this position – you, who’d entered Bureau protection at the age of fifteen, who’d led a miserable, unspectacular life right up till this point, had been chosen as Jennie’s recycler. And she was so nice, too. Maybe this was an apology from God for dropping the ball on your life so badly.

“All right,” you murmured. “Here we go.” Then you hooked your fingers in her panties and started drawing them down. You’d never done this in real life, but there was an abundance of written material for recyclers, so you knew in theory how it worked. Swallowing hard, you pulled the scrap of lacy fabric down her legs gently, then set them aside.

“Uh, okay…” You looked up at her. “So, how do you want to do this? Do you want me to close my eyes, or…”

Jennie just looked blank. Clearly, she hadn’t given much thought to the details involved in recycling. Well, you thought optimistically, this was preferential to the donators who fetishized the act.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted.

“It’s okay,” you rushed to comfort her, squeezing her ankle. “We can figure it out together.” Sooner rather than later would probably be best though, since she was starting to squirm in her seat. Pushing her knees apart, you positioned yourself beneath her, opening your mouth and looking up at her face.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh, I guess?” She was still gnawing her lip uncertainly, though, so you sat back to regard her.

“Is something bothering you?” you asked, your brows knitting together in concern.

“I don’t know, this is just kind of weird, isn’t it?” she fretted. “I don’t want to accidentally spray you in the face.”

You bit back a laugh. You were literally drinking her urine, and she thought you were afraid of getting some on your face? That was kind of cute, you thought. “Even if you do, they always keep wet wipes and towels in the rooms so that’s not a problem. If you’re really worried, I can form a seal with my mouth, but I read that sometimes it’s harder to pee like that.”

“Okay, let’s try that first, and then if it doesn’t work, we can go with the wipes?” she suggested. Your new donator was honestly so cute, and it was so different from her onstage persona that you were confused. Compartmentalizing it all and prioritizing her current needs over your disbelief that any of this was happening was the only way you were getting through this, but there would be plenty of time later to sit and mull over your thoughts.

Shuffling back slightly, you bent down to press your mouth to her bare pussy, being extremely careful with the… placement of everything so you didn’t make it awkward. Once you were settled, you remained still, focusing on not moving your tongue at all. Not knowing where to look, you ended up focusing on the ceiling. As a result, you didn’t see Jennie’s face twist slightly as she tried to focus on releasing her bladder.

Even though you couldn’t see it, you heard her huff in frustration and effort and felt the minute movements as she clenched and released her pelvic muscles, trying to start the stream. You waited patiently, your hands resting in your lap, forcing your body to relax to avoid stressing her out.

Eventually, she managed to do it, a little spurt trickling into your mouth. After that, it felt like the floodgates had opened as she started peeing more forcefully, forcing you to gulp it down hastily if you didn’t want to choke.

Urine, you’d read, tasted bitter and/or salty, depending on the diet of the individual. You’d been prepared to get used to it, knowing that you didn’t have much of a choice, but thankfully Jennie didn’t taste awful, which was probably because of her healthy diet. It just made you all the more grateful to have been assigned to her.

The stream eventually petered out, and you waited for a second to make sure she was done before pulling back, not sure if she wanted you to help clean her off. You looked up at her uncertainly and found her staring at you with a look of such sheer contentment that you couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Thank you, Y/n-ah,” she said, still looking blissed out, and you helped her get dressed before standing up. She stood up too and took your hand as she led you out of the building.

When you stepped out, you blinked, slightly disoriented. You’d barely left this place for five years, and now you were leaving for good. It felt weird – even though you knew that this day was coming, especially after you received the file on your donator, it still felt strange to be walking out like this, with Kim Jennie from Blackpink, no less.

Jennie caught your bewildered expression and paused. “Are you okay?” she asked, taking a step back so she was standing next to you again.

“Uh, yeah, just… it’s been a while since I came in,” you replied dazedly, looking up at the building. It looked so ordinary from the outside.

You didn’t have that many things, having led a fairly spartan lifestyle in the Bureau, so there wasn’t much to load up her car with. Jennie had been informed, of course – donators were expected to provide for all their recyclers’ needs, which was one reason why the income requirements for donators were so strict. You slipped into the passenger seat of the BMW, looking around with wide eyes and sitting carefully with your hands folded in your lap, not wanting to touch anything unnecessarily.

“Relax, Y/n-ie.” She laughed at you as she started the car. “Put on your seatbelt,” she reminded, pulling out of the parking lot. You buckled yourself in but continued sitting uncomfortably.

“Seriously, chill out. You’re going to be spending so much time in this car; you can’t possibly stay like that forever.”

“Okay,” you said shyly, relaxing just a little into the seat. The windows were all tinted so no one could see in, which was probably for the best, since you were not ready to be plastered all over the tabloids.

“So tell me more about yourself, Y/n-ie,” Jennie requested. “You mentioned earlier that it had been a while since you came in. When did you join the Bureau?”

“When I was fifteen,” you explained.

“Really? That’s young. I thought people could only sign up to be recyclers when they turned eighteen.”

“That’s true, but there are exceptions for extenuating circumstances, like where families are unable to provide for their children.”

“Oh,” she said awkwardly. “I’m sorry.” You could see her wincing, like she was afraid she’d said something wrong.

“No, don’t be,” you assured her. “I never had the best life anyway. It actually got better when I was emancipated from my family. I got to finish my GED and everything because I joined the Bureau.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said a little lamely, not sure how to process that. She’d always known she was fortunate to be born into a family that could afford to give her all the opportunities that had led her to where she was today but seeing the difference between her life and yours so starkly forced her to confront her privilege more directly.

She directed the conversation back to more neutral topics and the drive home passed relatively quickly. As they took the elevator up from the underground carpark, Jennie prayed with all her might that the others hadn’t decided to do something completely over-the-top and ridiculous to welcome you into their home. You already seemed overwhelmed with everything that was happening (and yeah, maybe she should have consented to letting you know her identity before today) and she didn’t want to stress you out anymore.

Thankfully, there were no streamers or anything like that, although all three of the girls were seated on the couch, eagerly waiting. When the door opened, they leapt up as one, rushing to the door. You were, of course, startled by the sight of the three celebrities all but tripping over themselves to come greet you, and hid behind Jennie, clutching the back of her shirt while you peeped at the others over her shoulder.

As annoyed as she was with the others for being so extra, she couldn’t help but enjoy the way you were clinging to her, seeking protection and comfort. This was exactly what she’d been craving her whole life, and on the day that she met you, you provided it for her so effortlessly.

“Guys,” she frowned at them, but none of them were buying it since they could all see the subtle signs of her happiness that she couldn’t quite hide. It was in the way her eyes softened slightly and the relaxed posture of her shoulders.

“Sorry,” Lisa giggled. “We were just so excited to meet our new roommate.”

“Well, this is L/n Y/n,” she introduced you, stepping aside so the others could take a good look at you. Deprived of your shield now, you seemed to fold in on yourself.

“Hi,” you said in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. Your greeting was accompanied by an awkward little hand wave, and Jennie could see the rest of the girls melting over you.

“Okay, let’s get you settled in, sweetie,” Jennie butted in. You nodded and followed her to her room like a baby chick, and she busied herself with showing you around and telling you where your stuff was, trying her best to ignore the sound of the others sitting in the living room cooing and giggling to each other.

When she was done, which honestly didn’t take that long since the apartment was rather modestly sized anyway, they returned to the living room where Jennie sat on the floor in front of the coffee table and you knelt politely next to her.

“I’m hungry, did you guys order lunch yet?” she asked the others, looking at the impressive collection of takeout menus spread out across the coffee table.

“No, we thought since it’s Y/n’s welcome lunch, she could order!” Chaeyoung explained, smiling at you.

“You guys, that’s so nice!” Jennie was moved on your behalf, but you were basically frozen, staring with wide eyes down at the menus. You had no idea what to do – at the Bureau all meals had been provided (and none of you had ever had any money anyways), and back when you’d lived with your parents, takeout had been a rare luxury.

“Um, what do you like, unnie?” you immediately turned to ask Jennie, the person you were the most familiar with in the house, albeit not by much.

“You should choose what you like today, Y/n-ie!” Jennie, absolutely unhelpfully, encouraged.

“Uhhh…” You turned back towards the dizzying selection of menus. “Maybe we can just get some kimchi stew?” You went with the most simple, basic option you could think of. Your mother used to make it for special occasions, and it was one of the few good memories you had of your childhood home.

“Yeah, that sounds great!” Chaeyoung cheered enthusiastically, sweeping aside the mess to pick up the menu for her favourite stew restaurant. “What do you guys want? I’ll order it,” she asked the others, and soon all four of them were poring over the menu, their heads close together as they discussed what dishes to get.

Since you’d already chosen, you sat back on your heels, watching them. Really, for being one of the most popular groups in kpop today, they seemed surprisingly normal to you. You hadn’t known what to expect coming into their home, but they were doing their best to make you feel included and comfortable with them.

Even as you were looking on fairly contentedly, ruminating on your good fortune to have gotten such an amazing second family, Jennie reached over to your lap and took your hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. When you looked over at her, she smiled at you, trying to convey without words just how happy she was that you were here.

For the first time, you started to believe that maybe the Bureau had been right when they’d assured the recyclers that they would help them find new homes far better than the ones they’d left.

---------------------------------

After lunch, all the girls retreated back into their rooms for naps. You and Jennie ducked back into her room – well, you amended, it was your shared room now – and Jennie shut the door in Jisoo’s face as she tried to come in after them. “Sorry, unnie, but she’s my recycler,” Jennie said, giggling at Jisoo’s stunned face before closing the door.

When she turned back to you, however, her expression was a lot more uncertain. “I hope that was okay,” she said. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You smiled back at her. “No, of course not,” you rushed to reassure her.

“Oh, okay, good,” she replied with visible relief. “Um, I do have to…”

“Right, of course.” You’d watched her casually drink glass after glass of water with lunch, after all, so this wasn’t really a surprise for you. It had been a little disconcerting, sure, because you were pretty sure between the four of them they’d easily consumed a day’s worth of water for you during lunch, but then again, they were rich and famous idols, so that was to be expected.

“How do you want to do this?” you asked, though you didn’t have much hope that she had an actual answer for you, based on how lost she’d been earlier.

Predictably, she just stared at you with wide eyes. Your lips twitched. “Do you want to do this in the shower?” you offered. There were a number of positions you’d studied, but obviously you’d never tried any of them out. She nodded, and you made your way to the bathroom together.

You knelt in the shower and waited for Jennie to join you. She stepped in hesitantly, standing in front of you. “Hey,” you greeted, smiling up at her as you held a hand out for her to take. She placed her hand in it and let you pull her over. “You okay?” you asked, running your thumb across her knuckles.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling down at you. Letting go of her hand, you slipped your hands up her skirt again to pull her panties down and off. She stepped out of them, then stepped closer to you.

“You have to open your legs a little more,” you murmured, before ducking your head slightly so you could look up at her pussy. Getting the idea, she widened her stance, then frowned. It still felt awkward.

Seeing her discomfort, you shuffled back closer to the wall, then guided her into a different position. Her hands were braced against the wall above your head, and she’d raised one leg, her knee pressing against the wall for support. “Is this better?” you murmured.

She nodded, then closed her eyes, concentrating. In this position, your mouth wasn’t pressed against her, so the first spurt missed your mouth entirely, spraying your cheek and dripping down your neck. Ignoring it, you adjusted your position and came a little closer to catch the rest of it neatly. Her taste was quickly becoming familiar to you now, and as you gulped it down, your eyes wandered up to her face, catching the blissful, relieved expression she was wearing. Her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly open, her brow furrowed slightly as she leaned her face against her arm. It was so cute that you couldn’t look away for a moment.

When the stream finally waned and then stopped, the last bit dripped against her thigh instead of falling into your mouth. You went to clean it up for her, then hesitated, not sure if she would be comfortable with it. Jennie had caught your aborted motion and asked what you were doing.

You looked up at her with an embarrassed flush. “I was, uh, going to clean it up for you,” you admitted.

She giggled at you, resting her forehead against the wall to look down more comfortably. “Go for it,” she urged, and you drew your tongue up her inner thigh, following the trail. You paused when your tongue hit the crook between her thigh and her body, and she just smiled at you encouragingly, so you continued, lapping up the droplets that clung to her.

Jennie helped you get yourself cleaned up after, then tucked you in next to her for a nap. As you drifted off to sleep, you squirmed a little closer to her, seeking her warmth and comfort.

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The day that Jennie had come to pick you up from the Bureau, you quickly learned, had been a rare day off for all four of them. Most days, even if they didn’t have group activities and appearances, Jennie had her own solo appointments, like interviews, meetings with Teddy for her solo work, Chanel appearances and so on. Because you couldn’t be away from her for more than a few hours, you went with her for most of them, though you stayed behind the scenes.

Since you’d come to her with so little of your own, Jennie had been having a field day shopping for you. Whenever she was free, she’d be on her phone or laptop browsing the different shopping websites with you. At first you’d been reluctant to buy so many new things, only selecting cheap clearance items, but with her repeated encouragement, you’d gotten bolder with choosing clothes and accessories that you liked.

Today, you were dressed in a cute summery outfit, a loose V-necked blouse with ruffled half-sleeves tucked into high-waisted dressy shorts. Loafers completed your cute ensemble, and a Chanel pendant that Jennie had lent you sat between your collarbones.

Jennie was supposed to be focusing on the photoshoot, but her gaze kept drifting towards you, sitting behind the photographer and watching everything with rapt attention. After being in the spotlight for so many years, all of this was commonplace to Jennie, just another day’s work, but it was all new and exciting for you, and seeing your fascination with photoshoots and music recording was refreshing for her.

The photographer knew Jennie was distracted, but the expression she was wearing, soft and open, was far better than the neutral, slightly pouty one she usually showed the camera, so he didn’t complain or direct her attention back to the shoot. This was amazing stuff, and fans would go wild for these photos.

He’d wanted to include you in the photo shoot and tell the world about Jennie’s new recycler, but that had been strictly forbidden. Jennie wanted to be able to tell the public about her recycler on her own terms and when you were ready, and you definitely weren’t yet. It was becoming somewhat of an open secret in the industry since you followed her almost everywhere, but everyone knew that if they were the one to leak it to the public, they would be blacklisted by YG, so no one dared.

When the photoshoot ended, you went back to the dorm together, Jennie driving while you chattered on excitedly about what you’d seen at the shoot. It appeared that Jennie wasn’t the only one who thought you were adorable – the other staff members there had too and indulged your many questions. The makeup artist had even done your makeup, and you were still giggling about it when you left the shoot venue with Jennie.

Tonight, however, Jennie was a little distracted, because she was going to see Kai for the first time since she’d gotten you, and she was worried about leaving you at home. You’d started to get along well with the others, so she wasn’t concerned about that, but for the last two weeks or so that she’d had you, you’d barely left her side. Was it weird to get separation anxiety from her recycler?

When you got back to the apartment, Jisoo and Lisa were still out with their own appointments, but Chaeyoung was hanging out in the living room watching Netflix on the TV, so you skipped off to join her while Jennie went and got ready. She called you into her room before she left to use your services, and you slipped off the couch to enter her room.

By now, you’d figured out your favourite way to do this, and Jennie had bought a special chair for this purpose. You rested under the seat comfortably, your body on an incline with your head slightly back, while Jennie sat down. She’d decided that she liked it better when your mouth was pressed against her, telling you that it was because it made less of a mess but actually rather enjoying the warm, cozy feeling of your lips against her, so the chair was set up so that your face was almost peeking through the seat.

She was wearing a pretty dress, which was currently scrunched around her waist, her panties in your hand. From her position on your face, she was staring at your legs, which were stretched out across the floor. This was the position that was the most comfortable for both of you given the limitations of the chair, and even though she’d been self-conscious at first about the way you were basically looking directly up her ass in this position, you’d rightly pointed out how silly it was to get shy about that, all things considered.

You really were a godsend, she thought as she relaxed and started to urinate in your mouth. So sweet and kind to her and everyone else you were around, and really, having you around meant she didn’t have to spend as much time fighting with the other girls for access to the bathroom, which was great in itself, but this comfortable set-up felt like the epitome of luxury to her. She was starting to love the experience of pissing in your mouth, and she wondered if you were aware of just how much she liked it.

When she was done, you conscientiously licked her clean, as usual, another aspect of the whole experience that she deeply enjoyed, then she got up off your face. You smiled at her as you extricated yourself from under the chair, then held her panties out for her to step into.

“Have fun on your date tonight, unnie,” you chirped, seeing her to the front door where she put her shoes on. She gave you a hug and a forehead kiss before departing.

You returned to the couch, curling up next to Chaeyoung with your legs folded beneath you, and she unpaused the show you’d been watching. It was just the two of you tonight, since Jisoo and Lisa had plans too. You didn’t mind – after Jennie, Chaeyoung was probably your favourite. You rested your head on her shoulder as you watched the movie quietly.

When the credits started to roll, Chaeyoung switched off the TV and the two of you made your way into the kitchen to get dinner. As you were chopping up the kimchi for the kimchi fried rice, Chaeyoung, who was stir-frying the pork, struck up a conversation by asking you how your day had been.

Excited, you started chattering on about how much fun you’d had tagging along on Jennie’s photoshoot, continuing even after dinner was ready and you moved back to the living room to start eating.

Chaeyoung, who, like Jennie, was so used to photoshoots and the like that they’d completely lost their charm, thought it was absolutely adorable how excited you were about what to them were regular, daily events. When you finally wound down, she asked, “So what was it like for you growing up?”

You put down your spoon and finished chewing your food. “I didn’t come from the best family,” you explained. “I was emancipated when I was fifteen and joined the Bureau and lived there until I was old enough to come here.” Jennie knew most of the details surrounding your past, courtesy of sleepy late-night chats almost every night, but the others didn’t.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Chaeyoung apologized, thinking she’d brought up unpleasant memories.

You shrugged. “It’s all right. My parents tried their best, but there was never quite enough water and money. It was a relief for us all when I left, I think. And I’m here now, so it worked out,” you concluded, smiling at her.

“I guess you’ve been enjoying your time with us then?”

“What gave me away?” you giggled. “Everyone’s been really nice, especially Jennie-unnie. I’ve never had so many clothes and things.”

Chaeyoung was surprised by how happy you seemed to be. Even though recyclers were fairly commonplace, she’d always expected that they would be kind of unhappy about their lot in life. “Really? So you don’t mind the whole drinking pee thing?”

You’d just put a spoonful of rice in your mouth when she said that, and in your surprise, some went down the wrong pipe, causing you to choke and cough. “Jesus,” you wheezed when you finally recovered.

“Sorry, sorry!” Chaeyoung cringed. “That was a really personal question, wasn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you shrugged, “but it’s okay. And to answer your question, I don’t really mind, I guess. Like, I learned at the Bureau that some people taste pretty gross, but Jennie-unnie tastes okay. And it makes her so happy.”

“Yeah, it really does.” Chaeyoung had to agree. In the past few weeks since you’d come to live with her, Jennie had smiled more, and doted on you like crazy. Plus, it was clear the arrangement suited her – the satisfied smile she wore whenever you emerged from her room together had become somewhat of an inside joke among the girls.

“Are you thinking of getting a recycler of your own?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand as you regarded her. Your expression was open and friendly, and Chaeyoung hesitated, looking away shyly.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for the commitment,” she confessed.

“I understand that,” you said, nodding. You really did – a recycler was a whole person that she would be responsible for, and you knew it was a big responsibility. “I think it’s really great that you’re aware of your limitations.” You reached over and patted her hand.

With a rush of bravery brought about by how nice you were being, she finally said, in a slightly embarrassed tone, “I’ve always wanted to try it, though.”

“Try what?”

“Uh, you know…” Having utilized her store of bravery, Chaeyoung hid her face in the crook of her elbow on the table.

“Oh,” you said, then, as the meaning of her words sank in, you repeated, “Oh.”

Even though her head was resting on the table, you could see her shoulders drawing up around her ears as she let out a miserable whine, regretting having said anything in the first place. Your lips twitched in amusement. This was honestly pretty funny, and even after being here for a couple of weeks, you couldn’t believe that little old you got to see the famous pop stars like this.

“It’s okay, forget I said anything, please,” Chaeyoung begged, finally lifting her face off the table to face you.

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing at her. “No, it’s okay, really,” you rushed to assure her when you were sure you could speak without gigging. “Have you talked to Jennie about it?”

Chaeyoung shrugged. “No, why would I?”

“She might be able to tell you more about it,” you said, then hesitated before making your offer. “Plus, if she doesn’t mind, I could… you know.”

That caught her attention. “Really?” she asked, perking up.

“Yeah, if Jennie-unnie is okay with it, I guess I don’t mind,” you said, shrugging. After all, you’d been around her long enough to know what her eating and drinking patterns were like, and she seemed to have a pretty healthy lifestyle, so you didn’t have any concerns.

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It was past midnight when Jennie came home, and you were already in bed, doing something on the laptop she’d gotten you last week. You looked up when you heard the door open and smiled at her when she came in.

“Did you have a good date?” you asked as Jennie set down her bag and sat at her dresser to remove her makeup.

She smiled at you in the mirror. “Yeah, I did,” she told you. It was true – Kai knew that she’d gotten a recycler since she’d been texting him with updates while he was on tour, and was interested to know how you were settling in, plus they’d had sex at his apartment after dinner, which was why she’d returned to the dorm so late.

As she went to the bathroom to shower, she thought about something weird that had happened, though. Kai had been almost too interested in you. At first she’d brushed it off, happy that he was taking an interest in you since you were now an important part of her life, but he’d kept asking intimate questions that she didn’t quite know how to answer.

Plus, she’d had to use the toilet at his apartment since she couldn’t hold it anymore, and after weeks of pissing exclusively in your mouth, it had felt strange and almost unpleasant. Would it be weird to take you along on date nights, she wondered. It was almost inevitable that you would meet at some point if her relationship with him continued, so it might be best to introduce you two anyway.

By the time she went back to the bedroom, clad in her pajamas, you’d put your laptop away and were snuggled up in bed, on the side closer to the wall. You smiled softly as she padded through the room to get under the covers next to you, turning onto your side to face her. Excitedly, you asked her for more details about your date, and she acquiesced, recounting every detail of it to her attentive one-person audience.

“Wow,” you sighed as you closed your eyes, “that’s so cool. I’ve never been on a date like that before.”

“Really? Never?” Shocked, Jennie turned onto her front and propped herself up with her elbows on the mattress so she could look down at you.

“Yeah, I went to live in the Bureau when I was fifteen, remember?” you said, opening your eyes.

“Right.” Jennie lay back down, starting to feel bad for you. If you were her recycler, chances were you’d never be able to experience many things that she took for granted.

“And you’re dating Kai from EXO too, wow,” you sighed. “I love EXO.”

“Well, maybe you’ll be able to meet them one of these days,” Jennie said lightly. Now that she knew you were excited about EXO, she felt a lot better about introducing you to her boyfriend.

“Maybe,” you said, before letting out a massive yawn.

“Okay, sweetie, good night,” she said, leaning over to kiss your forehead, before turning off the light using her phone.

--------------------------------

The next morning, you and Jennie slept in, and by the time you emerged from her room, the others were already hanging out in the living room. Jennie went to get breakfast for both of you in the kitchen while you sat on the couch with Lisa.

Chaeyoung, seeing Jennie, got up and followed her to the kitchen. After exchanging greetings and niceties, she got straight to the point, too excited and nervous to beat around the bush. Last night, she’d barely gotten any sleep from thinking so hard about your offer, and the more the thought floated around her mind, the more she found herself craving it.

“Unnie, can I ask you a question?”

Jennie, still slightly sleepy, grunted as she poured herself some coffee.

Understanding that that meant yes, Chaeyoung forged ahead. “Do you like having a recycler? Like, I mean, the actual recycling part,” she clarified.

Jennie turned to blink at her, the coffee pot still in her hand. “Are you asking me if I like having Y/n drink my pee?” she asked slowly. She wasn’t much of a morning person, and Chaeyoung could hear the gears in her head slowly grinding as she thought about the question.

“Uh, yeah,” Chaeyoung confirmed, a little abashed now as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Yeah, it’s nice.” The thought of it put a little smile on Jennie’s face as she took her coffee and turned to lean against the counter, raising the mug to her lips.

“Great, that’s great. I was talking to Y/n-ie about it last night, and uh… I was wondering if I could try?”

“Try… what?” Jennie raised an eyebrow.

“You know…” Chaeyoung, now shy, looked down at the floor. “Recycling.”

“Oh…” After pausing to take a sip of her coffee, Jennie shrugged. “I mean, it’s her choice. If she says yes, I’m not going to stop her.”

Hearing that, Chaeyoung’s eyes lit up. “R-really?!”

Jennie blinked, not sure why she seemed so surprised. “Yeah, she’s still her own person. I can’t make these decisions for her. But only if she wants to, okay? You can’t pressure her into it.”

“No, of course not,” Chaeyoung assured her. “She was the one who offered, actually. Yay! Thank you, unnie!” she cheered. “I can’t wait to tell her about it.”

At the blatant display of enthusiasm, Jennie rolled her eyes and raised her coffee cup back to her lips to hide how cute she thought her dongsaeng’s excitement was. As much as she tried to play it cool, she could relate – she loved recycling too. It was probably a strange comparison to make, all things considered, but you’d spent more time down there with your lips pressed to her than Kai ever had, and she was starting to enjoy you cleaning her off way more than she should, given that it wasn’t necessarily an erotic act for you.

Still, she thought as she downed her coffee, that seemed like a problem for a different time, when they didn’t have to get to the studio to practice. Placing the mug into the sink to wash when they got home, she left the kitchen to eat breakfast and then get ready.

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Watching the girls practice for their new comeback was seriously the best thing that had ever happened to you, you thought as you sat in a corner of the dance studio with the dogs. You’d taken a liking to each other, and Kuma was lounging comfortably in your lap while Dalgom sat next to you, whining every time you stopped petting him.

Their comeback song was really catchy too – Teddy had really outdone himself this time, and you couldn’t wait for their comeback. It was so different, though, seeing all the behind-the-scenes prep for everything before the final product, and it gave you a way better understanding of how hard the girls actually worked.

Jennie’s skin tasted different, too, during and after dance practice, which was something you probably should have expected, but it didn’t occur to you until after she’d settled on your face, her thighs bracketing your face. Since you couldn’t bring her chair around with you, for obvious reasons, the two of you had had to figure out a more minimalist way of doing this while you were out of the house.

Since there were so many prominent people in YG, almost every room had some facilities to cater to recyclers, like a screen for privacy. It meant that Jennie didn’t have to spend as much time going to the bathroom down the hall, which did make them more efficient, because she had to pee all the time, but since the other girls didn’t have recyclers, it didn’t really help that much.

Still, it was nice taking breaks to feed you her piss. You always smiled at her, and had sweet words of encouragement, telling her she was doing a good job even if it didn’t feel like it. It was almost worrying how much she was coming to depend on you, not just for her physical needs, but for your companionship and emotional support as well.

Plus, having you lick her clean sent a little thrill down her spine every time, and that definitely helped to cheer her up. Although she shied away from thinking of it as an erotic act, it did feel a lot like unconditional acceptance, especially when she knew she was sweaty. You never even made a face, easily going with the flow (pun unintended).

It wasn’t uncommon for recyclers to form close bonds with their donators, Jennie knew. YG had many donators among its ranks – TOP from Big Bang had adopted one after he cleaned up his act enough that the Bureau considered him eligible, and his recycler, who’d been with him for three years now, was doing a remarkable job at keeping him on the straight and narrow. Being so directly responsible for someone else’s welfare had really made him more careful with his own body.

When the girls declared that it was time for a lunch break, you tagged along with them to the cafeteria. The food at the YG cafeteria was famously delicious, and you always enjoyed eating there. Plus, you got to see the trainees, idols and actors come and go, which was always fun, even if you sometimes had trouble not staring.

After lunch, the girls were going their separate ways – Jennie had to work on her solo album, Lisa was going to work on a dance collaboration, Jisoo was going to film for her new drama and Chaeyoung was off to an event. After waving goodbye to the other girls, you followed Jennie to the recording studio.

Seeing that you were alone there since you were a bit early, Jennie took the opportunity to ask you about her conversation with Chaeyoung earlier. Sitting you down on the couch, she rolled a desk chair over so she could sit facing you.

“Chaeng asked if she could try, uh…” Really, she thought, it was ridiculous how much difficulty she had talking about when it had become such a significant part of her life.

Fortunately, you remembered your conversation with Chaeyoung last night, and understood what she was trying to say immediately. “Uh-huh?” you nodded, looking at her attentively.

“She said you were okay with it, but I just wanted to check if you’re really okay. I mean, you don’t have to feel like you have to just because she’s my friend and all, and if you don’t want to I can tell her no—” Jennie was starting to ramble, so caught up in assuring you that you didn’t have to feel forced into anything because of your position in the household.

“No, I was okay with it,” you cut her off with wide eyes. “I was the one who offered. Is that what you were talking about this morning?” Come to think of it, Chaeyoung had left the kitchen in such a good mood this morning that you should have realized that something was up. You’d been playing with Lisa’s cats, though, so you hadn’t given it much thought.

“Yeah, she asked me about it in the kitchen,” Jennie confirmed. “I just wanted to check if you were okay with it.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” you said with a smile. “Oh, unless you mind,” the thought came to you suddenly. “I’ll tell her no if you don’t like it!” you rushed to assure her. You hadn’t even considered that she might have a problem with it when you opened your big mouth (again, pun unintended).

“No, no! I don’t mind. You can do whatever you’d like, of course. I won’t stop you.”

“Oh… okay. Great!” you said slightly awkwardly, not sure what else to say in this situation. Thankfully, Teddy entered the room and saved you from having to say any more.

-----------------------------------

Based on the way Chaeyoung was staring at you over dinner, you were pretty sure Jennie had already green-lighted things with her. The anticipation in her gaze was almost disconcerting in its intensity, but truth be told you were kind of flattered that she was so excited about it. Jennie had a boyfriend, so you knew that this act was nothing sexual for her, but you’d learned during your time preparing to be a recycler that for many donators, having someone consume their urine directly from the source was often an intensely sexual experience.

From Chaeyoung’s almost predatory gaze, you were fairly sure she was one of those people. Still, she hadn’t said anything to you about it, so you figured she would probably just do it and then dismiss you to take care of herself.

After dinner, you all brought your dishes back to the bucket your delivery had arrived in and left it outside the door for the delivery person to retrieve. Usually all of you went back to your rooms after dinner, but tonight, as you were about to follow Jennie back into the room you now shared, Chaeyoung grabbed your hand.

You turned, your eyes following the hand clasped around yours to the determined gaze of the girl who owned it. Biting your lip, you nodded and followed her into her room instead. As you disappeared into Chaeyoung’s room, you didn’t notice Jennie watching you.

Even though you’d been living here for a few weeks now and had seen Chaeyoung’s room from the outside, you’d never set foot in it, since there hadn’t been a reason for you to up till today. As she shut the door behind you, you stood awkwardly, wringing your hands and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Chaeyoung, on the other hand, was way too excited to feel nervous, and giggled as she pulled your hands apart by grabbing one of your wrists. “Come on,” she beckoned, drawing you closer to her.

“How do you want me to do this?” you asked. Her excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile back at her. You were quickly learning that there was a part of you that loved to please others.

“How do you usually do it with unnie?” She responded with another question, and you blinked at her in surprise. Somehow, you’d been expecting her to already know what she wanted – after all, she was the one who’d been so enthusiastic about this.

“Uh, you remember that new chair that was delivered?” When she nodded, you continued, “She usually sits in it and, uh, it’s a special chair so I can rest under it…”

“Right,” Chaeyoung looked around her room thoughtfully, then frowned. “I don’t think I have anything that would serve the same function.”

“Oh, you don’t have to have anything like that,” you rushed to reassure her. “I mean, it’s not like there’s a chair in the studio or anything.”

“That’s true.” She perked up at that. “So how do you usually do it?”

“Well…” you knelt down and looked up at her. “Usually she stands over me, or if we’re at the studio she sits on the couch and I kneel in front of her.” Jennie had taken to the first position you’d shown her, even after you’d tried out all the different ones the Bureau had suggested to find the ones you liked best.

“Hmm,” Chaeyoung hummed. “This doesn’t seem that comfortable, though.”

Eventually, you managed to figure something out – you sat with your back against her bed, your head resting on the mattress, while she knelt on it, hovering over your face. As she looked down at you, sandwiched between her knees, she smirked, an expression that had you clenching involuntarily. This was new, you noted with some surprise.

“You ready?” she cooed, so like the sweet, thoughtful woman you’d gotten to know and like over the past two weeks, but also different somehow, confident and enticing. Entranced by this new side of her, you nodded, opening your mouth under her pussy.

“Good girl,” she praised, smiling down at you. She was holding her shirt up slightly so she could see your face more clearly, and she let out a sigh of relief as she relaxed her pelvic muscles, starting to pee. It missed your mouth at first, landing on your forehead, and she let out a giggled “Oops!” as she readjusted herself so that she was peeing into your mouth.

You’d offered to do what you did with Jennie to minimize mess, pressing your mouth to her, but she’d declined, and now you realized why. She enjoyed the visual of the urine descending the short distance from her pussy to your mouth, relished in the power to soak your whole face if she wanted. Your eyes were focused on her core, which was still gushing, but you could hear her sighs and whispered praises.

When the stream dwindled and eventually stopped, Chaeyoung sighed like she was disappointed – and she was. She’d been holding it for hours, since lunchtime, in anticipation for tonight, and it had been over so fast. This experience had been everything she’d dreamed it would be, and she was only sad that it had ended. She had no expectation that this would be anything other than a one-time thing, since the way she’d asked you, it had seemed like a research experience.

However, you weren’t done yet. There was still the cleanup process, so you lifted your hands to her bare hips and pulled her down gently onto your face. This time, she looked down at you with some surprise, and you returned her earlier smirk right before you dragged your tongue up her slit.

“Mmm, God,” she gasped, shuddering as you continued licking her clean. “What the hell are you doing?”

Now done, you licked your lips and grinned at her. “Cleanup,” you replied in a matter-of-factly tone. “I do it all the time for Jennie-unnie too.”

“No wonder she looks so pleased all the time now,” Chaeyoung grumbled jealously, and you giggled. It hadn’t escaped your notice while cleaning her that she was wet too, her slick possessing a markedly different flavor from her piss. You weren’t that naïve, and if she was amenable, you were more than happy to help her with that too.

After all, you had Rosé of Blackpink sitting on your face right now. Who were you to throw away such an opportunity?

“I want to please you too, unnie,” you cooed, batting your lashes at her. You were somewhat surprised at where all this bravado was coming from, but she seemed to enjoy it, so you were rolling with it too.

“Ugh, you’re so sweet, who taught you to say such sweet things?” she asked.

“I’m just being honest,” you responded coquettishly before sliding your tongue through her folds again.

Chaeyoung moaned, throwing her head back luxuriantly as she widened her stance to lower herself further down on your face. “Such a good girl,” she praised, starting to rock her hips back and forth, sliding herself over your tongue.

You’d never done this before, so your movements were a little clumsy, but your sheer enthusiasm more than made up for it, as you licked and sucked at her, letting her grind down on your face as she pleased.

“Stick your tongue out for me, sweetie,” she prompted, smiling down at you when you did. She fucked herself on your tongue, sliding along it until it bumped her clit, then sinking down on it. Your tongue was inside her now, and her clit bumped against your nose. All you could smell and taste was her, and when she looked down at you, she could only see your eyes since her pussy was firmly planted on the rest of your face.

“You look so pretty like that,” she said before continuing to fuck herself on your face, her movements growing faster and choppier as she chased her orgasm. Breathy moans and gasps spilled from her lips, increasing in volume and frequency as she grew closer. “Mmf, fuck, you’re so good at this,” she cried out a second before she ground herself down harder on your face, uncaring of your need to breathe as she came.

Her sloppy movements smeared her slick all over your face and in your mouth, and when she finally lifted herself off you, you took a deep breath before grinning cheekily up at her and making a show of licking your lips. “Did you enjoy that, unnie?” you asked, and she huffed out a breathless laugh as she shuffled out of that position straddling your face and lay back against her pillows.

“You know I did,” she teased. “Now come here, I want to return the favour,” she demanded.

Immediately, your head came up off the bed and you turned yourself around so you were kneeling on the ground, facing her. “Oh, uh, no, you don’t have to, I—”

She rolled her eyes. “Come here,” she ordered, holding her hand out to you, and you had no choice but to let her pull you close. She tugged so hard you ended up falling into the pillows next to her and knocking the wind out of your lungs. You squirmed around a little so that your head was resting on her shoulder as you looked up at her.

“If you don’t want me to, that’s fine, but I really want to,” she said in a low voice. “I want to see how wet you are from eating me out so good, Y/n-ie, and make you cum all over my fingers.”

Her words had you squirming, and you breathlessly agreed. She guided you into a kneeling position so that you were straddling her hips, then dipped her hand into your shorts, her fingers ghosting over your clit. At the same time, her other hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you down to her.

“Do you like that?” she whispered against your lips as you shuddered. No one else had ever touched you before, and all of this was new to you. You nodded silently, biting your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” she praised as her fingers slipped into your panties. “And so wet,” she exclaimed with delight. Dipping her fingers into your folds to collect some slick, she then started circling around your clit with slippery fingers. In response, your head fell onto her shoulder as you held on to her tightly.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this,” she continued with her filthy litany as she started fucking you with her fingers, letting you grind your clit on the heel of her hand. You let out a moan as you rocked your hips, feeling everything get wetter as you grew more aroused.

“Unnie, please—” you whispered, not knowing exactly what you were asking for. She knew, though, and sped up the movements of her hand.

“Are you going to cum for me? That’s right, sweet thing, cum all over my hand like a good girl,” she purred. Helplessly, you pushed your clit further into her hand and ground it in, shuddering as you came like she asked you to. She continued to work you through your orgasm, only withdrawing when you grew too sensitive.

Seeing how shiny her fingers were from the thick coating of slick on them, you flushed, but she just winked at you as she popped them into her mouth. “Delicious,” she commented, smacking her lips.

You giggled, her nonchalant attitude making it less awkward than you’d imagined it would be after everything that had just transpired. “Likewise,” you murmured, ducking back in for another kiss.

After staying there for about ten more minutes, trading kisses and flirtatious remarks, you figured it was time to go back to Jennie’s room and you said as much, slipping out of Chaeyoung’s embrace and off the bed.

“All right,” she acquiesced when you told her, yawning as she lay back in her pillows. “It was a good time, though. Do you wanna do it again sometime?”

Your hand on the doorknob, you turned to wink at her. “Definitely,” you said before leaving the room.

Jennie was sitting on her bed, flipping through a magazine, when you entered, and she looked up to smile at you. “Did everything go okay?” she asked, her expression completely neutral. She knew, of course, what had just happened between the two of you. You’d been gone way too long to have just drank her piss, and the walls weren’t soundproof. She didn’t mind, but just wanted to make sure that you hadn’t been coerced into anything.

“Yeah,” you replied with a bright smile, putting her at ease.

“Good.” She stood up and started walking over to the chair. You were familiar enough with each other now that she didn’t need to say anything; you got it immediately, rushing over and kneeling on the ground to help her with her clothes, then maneuvering yourself under the chair. In light of your new experience with Chaeyoung, however, this act took a different light now.

You weren’t stupid or blind; you’d known all along that Jennie was gorgeous, and you’d been a fan of Blackpink for years before you came to live with them. You just hadn’t thought about this act in a sexual light because you knew that it wasn’t really sexual for Jennie, and you didn’t want to be that creepy weirdo. Plus, learning about the technicalities of it all in the Bureau for years kind of sucked all the joy out of it.

Jennie sat down on your face, wriggling slightly to get into the position that was the most comfortable for her. From her vantage point, the only part of your face she could see was your chin, and she wondered if this was how Chaeyoung had done it too. Not that it was any of her business, of course.

Your mouth stretched open under her, and she relaxed with a sigh, listening to the hissing sound of the pee leaving her body and the quiet noises of you swallowing. You usually held on to the edges of the seat, and today she stroked her fingers across yours. Taking the cue, you released the seat, letting her guide your hands to cling to her thighs instead.

When she was done, you licked her clean as usual, but this time you couldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt to eat Chaeyoung out until she came, and you found yourself getting a little cheeky, sliding your tongue along Jennie’s slit a little slower and deeper than usual, flicking her clit just once before you closed your mouth.

Jennie, however, didn’t seem to react, standing up looking completely composed and turning to smile down at you. You helped her fix her clothes then went to take a shower, washing Chaeyoung off your face.

Once you were gone, Jennie let out the breath she’d been holding in a long exhale, lying on the bed looking up at the ceiling. She was pretty sure that had been accidental, but boy had it felt good.

-------------------------------------

It was only a couple of nights later that Jennie took you to meet Kai. She figured there was no time like the present – plus, given her reaction to what was no doubt an accident on your part, Kai needed to take his conjugal duties more seriously.

Tonight, the three of you were in the private apartment he’d bought. He still lived with the rest of his members in their dorm, but most of them had investment properties. It was handy when they needed their own space, like tonight.

In all honesty though, you weren’t sure how you felt about Kai. Sure, he was handsome and famous and you’d been a little starstruck at first, but the way he was talking to you and looking at you was making you feel a little uncomfortable. It was difficult to put your finger on it, but when he looked at you, you wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. He was just asking way too many personal, intimate questions about your experience as Jennie’s recycler.

Now that dinner was over, you were all sitting in the living room, and you were seated next to Jennie on the couch, half-curled into her, automatically seeking her protection. She too had noticed that Kai was looking at you kind of strangely all through dinner, but didn’t know what was up with him.

“So, Y/n-ie…” he said, leaning forward. You turned from Jennie to face him. “Have you enjoyed being with my Jennie?”

You looked back towards Jennie uncertainly, slightly confused about what he was asking. “Uh, yeah,” you replied when you turned back to look at him. “Jennie-unnie’s been really nice, and the other Blackpink unnies have been nice too.”

“I’m sure they’ve been,” he brushed off your answer patronizingly, “but what I mean is, have you enjoyed being with her?”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Jennie again, this time begging her to intervene. Sensing your distress, she squeezed your leg. “Oppa, Y/n-ie doesn’t understand your question, and neither do I,” she said slightly sharply.

Instead of taking the warning, Kai laughed it off. “I’m just curious, you know?” he said with a shrug. “You can’t blame me. I bet she’s closer to you than I am.”

At your clear discomfort, Jennie changed the topic and Kai didn’t turn the conversation back around to you again, not wanting to jeopardize his chances of getting lucky tonight. Eventually, he invited Jennie to the bedroom with a flimsy excuse – “please come help me with something in the bedroom” – and you remained on the couch, reading the book you’d brought with you and listening to music with the noise-cancelling headphones Jennie had specifically gotten for you while they were occupied.

After they were done, Jennie came out of the room since she had to pee. (What? It’s good to pee after sex, okay?) Since Kai was still in the bedroom, she figured it would be comfortable enough to do it on the couch, and you easily acquiesced, getting into the position you both preferred.

This time, however, when you pressed your mouth to her, Kai’s cum dripped out, thick, salty and altogether unpleasant. You tried to school your features, but even though you hadn’t been together for that long you’d made up for that with the sheer amount of time you spent together each day, and Jennie caught the grimace in the instant before you hid it.

Still, she figured, she could talk to you about it later but right now she really had to pee, so she just started going in your mouth. You were pretty much an expert at this time, so you sucked it down without any problem, but because you really didn’t want Kai’s cum to be the taste lingering on your tongue later, you licked her clean perfunctorily, avoiding her slit as much as possible.

When you were done, you pulled away quickly, hiding your distaste – or so you thought – by smiling sweetly up at Jennie, the way you usually did. “All clean,” you chirped at her.

Attempting to hide her unease, she smiled back at you before heading back to the bedroom.

Kai was still lounging in bed, his arms folded behind his head as he smiled lazily at her. He was supremely confident of his own body – and, of course, why wouldn’t he be? He looked like an Adonis. “Come back to bed, sweetie.”

Jennie, of course, was more than happy to acquiesce. She lay back down next to him and let him cuddle her close, resting her head on his shoulder. “Jennie-yah… I want to ask you something.”

“Hmm?” she said, only half-paying attention. Her eyes were sliding shut.

“Is it nice to pee in someone else’s mouth?”

Opening her eyes, she adjusted her position to look him more fully in the eye. “Everyone keeps asking me that,” she muttered. “Is everyone really so curious about it?”

He shrugged, jostling her slightly. “It is a pretty big lifestyle change,” he pointed out.

“It’s all right, I guess.” For some reason, she didn’t feel entirely comfortable talking to him about it.

Bending to kiss her temple, he said, “I’m lucky to have you.”

Jennie smiled, bemused. “Not that I’m disagreeing, but why?” she asked lightly.

“Well, you’ll let me use her too, won’t you?”

She frowned, sitting up. “I’ll let you?”

“Yeah, I mean, you let Chaeyoung-ssi use her.” He still looked nonchalant about it, like he fully expected her to agree with him.

“Oppa, Y/n-ie was the one who agreed to that. I can ask her, if you really want to.”

To Jennie’s shock, he started looking really pouty and put out, like she’d done something to offend him. “Okay… yeah, will you please ask her for me?” he finally asked.

“All right,” she accepted, hoping that he would drop the topic. The atmosphere remained somewhat tense though, like he was still upset about it, and when she left with you, he was still sulking.

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Jennie had worried that your experience with Kai might affect your relationship with her, especially after you’d seemed to reluctant to drink from her after she’d slept with him the other night. Thankfully, by the next morning you seemed to be back to normal, enthusiastic and conscientious when she had her morning piss.

She was so relieved (ha) that you weren’t mad at her, and so reluctant to say anything that might exacerbate the situation, that it wasn’t until almost a week later that Jennie tried to broach the topic of Kai’s request. She didn’t really want to, because it seemed like you weren’t the biggest fan of him, but she’d promised. She made sure to wait till it seemed like you were in a good mood, when the memory of Kai’s weirdness wasn’t quite so fresh in your mind.

You were already in bed when she brought it up, and she was sitting at the dresser applying her skincare. “Y/n-ah…” she started.

“Hmm?” You were starting to fall asleep, half-listening and half-floating in space.

“What do you think of Kai?”

Your eyes snapped open, suddenly awake. “He’s all right, I guess,” you said politely, not wanting to upset her.

“Okay,” she accepted, and you sat in silence for a moment longer. “Would you… be willing to lend him your mouth?” she finally asked.

Your immediate instinct was to reject the request – vehemently at that, while making a disgusted face, but the tentative expression on her face gave you pause. “Do you want me to?” you asked instead. You thought she might want you to do this as a favour for her even if you didn’t want to since Kai was her boyfriend, after all, and her approach to this might be different from how she’d treated Chaeyoung’s request.

“Well, he wanted me to ask, but I won’t force you,” she said carefully.

“But will it damage your relationship if I don’t?” You picked up easily on the silent tension. As much as you felt uncomfortable around Kai, he was Jennie’s boyfriend, and you didn’t want to sabotage it. If you had to, you supposed you could do it. Just once, as a favour.

Jennie, of course, understood immediately what you were trying to say. “That’s not your responsibility,” she said firmly. “If you don’t want to do it, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you or guilt you. Anything that happens to my relationship with Jongin-oppa is ours to deal with.”

After mulling over it for a moment, you gave her your answer. “Then I don’t want to,” you said, shrugging. “Sorry, unnie, but I don’t feel great about Jongin-ssi.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” she muttered. “He was kind of weird the other night. I’ll talk to him about it, and try to find out why.” He wasn’t usually like this around people, years of idol training and living with others giving him great people skills most of the time. A conversation seemed necessary if she was going to keep the both of you in her life.

With her skincare routine done by the end of the conversation, she got into bed next to you and turned out the lights.

“Good night, unnie,” you mumbled, squirming closer to her for cuddles, which she gladly gave you.

-----------------------------------

Since you had expressed discomfort about being around Kai, and she knew you being around would only make him more insistent on ‘trying you out’, as he put it, she decided to go on dates with him without bringing you. This decision had a few implications – first, you ended up spending a lot more time separately, which meant you were hanging out with the other girls a lot more; second, Jennie’s dates with Kai grew shorter than they had been before since now that she was used to peeing in your mouth, she never wanted to go anywhere else.

It was this combination of factors that led to a slight strain in your relationship with her. She didn’t want to say she was jealous, because she wasn’t. She was pleased that you were becoming close with the other girls, especially Chaeyoung. It just stung sometimes. Even when she was home, there were times when you would be hanging out with the others instead of her, and you were less clingy too. Some people might think that was a good thing, but in all honesty, she’d liked clingy.

As your relationship with the other girls – and your friends-with-benefits thing with Chaeyoung – flourished, it seemed like Jennie’s with Kai was headed in the opposite direction. Having to rush home after sex because she didn’t want to use his toilet was becoming somewhat of a sore point, especially since she refused to bring you to their dates. He’d also thrown a fit when she told him you didn’t want to drink him, and it had led to one of their only fights throughout the entire duration of their relationship.

“Hey, did you ask Y/n yet?” he’d prompted almost the second she got into his car.

Jennie looked at him askance. The most perfunctory greeting kiss ever, and now this? What was with this obsession? “Yeah, she didn’t seem into it,” she said vaguely, hoping that he would take the hint and drop it.

“What?!” he exclaimed instead, sounding furious. Jennie sighed. Okay, it seemed they weren’t going to go the chill, reasonable route.

Turning to look at him, she said, “She doesn’t have to, you know.” Truth be told, she was kind of put off by his attitude. Ever since he’d met you, he’d been acting like this was owed to him. Just because she had a recycler didn’t mean she was obliged to share it with anyone.

“Yeah, but you let Chaeyoung-ssi use it,” he pointed out. “I’m your boyfriend; shouldn’t I get the same rights?”

She raised a brow. “Rights?” she asked. “Chaeyoung doesn’t have a right to use Y/n’s mouth as she pleases, you know. Y/n is very much a willing participant,” she said, slightly bitterly. Okay, maybe she was slightly put out by your blossoming relationship with her dongsaeng.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbled. “You could just make her do it.”

“Make her? I don’t make my recycler do anything she wants to do. She’s not my slave,” Jennie pointed out.

“That’s not what I meant! You’re always twisting my words!”

Needless to say, that night had not gone well. Kai was still slightly sulky about it, sometimes making snide remarks about you. Truth be told, this side of him was not one she’d seen before, and she didn’t like it. Even though recycler rights were sometimes controversial, among their circles most people agreed that recyclers deserved the same rights of freedom of choice as the general population. Kai’s revelation that he was apparently not one of them was turning out to be a problem, because she now felt responsible for protecting you from him.

She hoped that tonight’s date would go better, since they’d declared a moratorium on talking about you. All day, though, she’d had to endure the giggles and sidelong glances you’d shared with Chaeyoung, and she was pretty sure you were going to be up to no good while she was gone.

She was right. You saw her off graciously as always, giving her a hug at the front door and telling her you hoped she had a good time with Kai tonight, and that you would be waiting for her. The moment she left, though, you ran through the apartment straight into Chaeyoung’s room.

“Unnie!” you cried excitedly, throwing yourself on the bed so enthusiastically that you bounced.

Chaeyoung smiled at you. You weren’t dating, but you weren’t quite friends either, and she’d definitely grown very fond of you (and your mouth) over the couple of months that you’d been living in the dorm with her. Whenever Jennie was out without you, you’d come hang out with her, and by this point you had a pretty nice routine: you’d get delivery, then maybe watch a movie with the others before retiring back to her bedroom.

Tonight wasn’t any different, and you found yourself in the living room, eating fried chicken with the others while watching a movie. Chaeyoung was drinking a lot more water than usual, looking meaningfully over at you every time she reached for her glass. You knew this was in preparation for later, so you winked back at her every time.

All this flirting wasn’t lost on Lisa and Jisoo, and by the time the movie ended, the two of them grumbled good-naturedly about how they didn’t need to see all of this as they went back to their bedrooms. You and Chaeyoung giggled together as you bade them good night, knowing that they didn’t really mind it and were just teasing.

Once you were alone, Chaeyoung immediately took your hand and pulled you closer to her, going in for a kiss as your bodies collided. You slid your hands along her hips, groping her ass shamelessly.

“Mmm, we should probably take this back to my room before we get in trouble again for leaving fluids all over the living room,” she breathed against your lips. You couldn’t agree more and let her drag you into her room by your hand.

“Strip,” she ordered once the door was shut, already following her own instructions. You laughed at her enthusiasm even though you knew you would pay for it later, pulling your shirt over your head and shucking your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop. She did the same, and almost lunged for you.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” you teased even as you lay back on the bed.

“Shut up,” she growled. “I have to pee so bad, you don’t even know.”

“You were the one drinking all that water earlier,” you pointed out as she straddled your face. She was facing your body, so your face was basically in her butt. Not that you minded. It was a very pretty butt indeed. You wanted to squeeze it some more, but she was kneeling so that her legs were resting on your shoulders, restricting your movement.

“Don’t act like you don’t love drinking my piss,” she said, sounding strained as she looked down at you between her legs.

You winked at her from the gap between her thighs. “How could I even pretend? You’re so thoughtful, making all that delicious piss for me…” you breathed, a moment before she started peeing.

The first bit of it missed and glanced off your cheek, but you knew now that it was intentional. She loved watching the way her stream found its way into your mouth after first landing on your face somewhere, and you didn’t really mind either. The stream of dirty talk that she kept up the whole time was getting to you, and even as you gulped down her piss, your hips were rocking into the mattress slightly, seeking out that little bit of stimulation.

Chaeyoung noticed and leaned forward to pull your legs apart, which caused her pee to splash against your forehead instead. You made a noise of protest and she readjusted with a giggle, sinking a little lower so that her pussy was closer to your face.

“Mmm, it feels so good to pee for you, sweetie,” Chaeyoung groaned as the last of her urine dripped out.

“I’m glad you enjoy it, unnie,” you giggled. She widened her stance further to lower her pussy to you, and you eagerly started lapping at it. Meanwhile, she was holding your legs open and licked a broad stripe down your slit, from your clit to your tight, clenching hole.

“Mmf—” you let out a muffled groan into her slick flesh. She’d never done this before, and you were a huge fan. No wonder she got so crazy when you’d licked her for the first time.

You were busily eating each other to orgasm when the door swung open without any warning. At first, neither of you paid any heed, until you heard the disgusted exclamation coming from the entrance.

“My God!” Jennie cried out as she opened Chaeyoung’s bedroom door, only to come face to face with a more direct view of her member’s asshole than she’d ever wanted to see. Taking a step back, she turned away. “Y/n-ah, can you come here for a second?” she asked, directing her question at the hallway.

Now aggravated beyond all bearing, you groaned. “Unnie, can this please wait?” Not only were you busy, you really didn’t want to stop what you were doing right now to eat Kai’s creampie.

“No, it can’t,” she snapped, irritated. She’d been holding it since she left, and she needed to pee now. And how dare you talk back to her like that, anyway? Had you forgotten why you were even here to begin with?

“Fine,” you capitulated, sensing that this wasn’t the hill to die on. “Give me a minute, I’ll meet you in your room.”

With that, Jennie stalked off, and you sighed, tapping Chaeyoung’s hip to make her get off. “Sorry, unnie,” you apologized as you got up and started putting your clothes back on.

“It’s all right,” she excused graciously. “She seemed like she was in a mood, though. We might need to take a rain check.”

You pouted back at her as you started walking backwards towards the open door. “I don’t wanna,” you whined. “I’ll be right back?”

“Okay,” she chuckled, and you were on your way.

You arrived in the room you shared with Jennie to see her already pacing impatiently in front of the chair. “Hey, unnie,” you greeted as you sank to your knees to help her strip. You were obviously distracted and in a rush to get back to Chaeyoung, and moved quickly to get under the chair.

As Jennie sat down slowly, she caught a glimpse of your grimace, and anger flared through her, but first she needed to take care of her needs. Perhaps pettily, she sat without care and started peeing even before she was sure that you were in position, causing you to have to squirm under her to prevent a huge mess.

When she was done, you licked her clean as quickly as you could, and she felt a stab of irritation – she refused to acknowledge it as jealousy – that you could eat Chaeyoung out so enthusiastically but were now so reluctant to even clean her up. She stood up and scowled down at you as you got out from under the chair.

“What’s wrong with you today?” she asked snippily. Perhaps not the best way to start this conversation, but she was too angry to care.

You looked up at her in surprise. “Nothing, why?” you asked. If anything, you thought, you should be the one who was annoyed. You didn’t know what it was, but she’d been so eager that she’d started even before you were in the right position, and there was urine all over your face and neck, some even dripping into your hair.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you giving me an attitude,” she accused. “Every time I come back from Kai’s you act like this. I’m sorry if you dislike my boyfriend—” her tone of voice was most decidedly not sorry “—but you’re being so unreasonable! What are you, jealous?”

Your temper flared for the first time since you’d been living here. “Jealous?!” you scoffed. “Of your relationship with that ignorant manchild? I don’t think so. Sorry,” you sneered, turning it back onto her, “that I don’t like to eat Kai’s cum out of your pussy every time you fuck him. I’m your recycler, but I don’t need to be treated like that.”

With that, you stormed off to wash her piss off your face and body from where it had trickled before you’d managed to get your mouth firmly over her. Jennie, on the other hand, lay on the bed, feeling incredibly guilty for blowing up at you just now. She hoped you’d come back soon so that she could have a proper conversation with you about just now.

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You ended up spending the whole night with Chaeyoung. Even though you weren’t exactly in the mood to continue your exploits with her after your fight with Jennie, she was happy to welcome you into her room and gave you lots of cuddles, letting you rant patiently until you wore yourself out and fell asleep.

In the morning, you were still reluctant to leave the room and face Jennie, preferring to continue sulking in Chaeyoung’s bed. Unfortunately, nature called, and she dragged you out of the room for breakfast. You were surprised to see that Jennie was already in the living room, and when she saw you walking out, she immediately stood up and called your name. “Y/n, can we talk?”

Not in the mood to be reamed out again first thing in the morning, you responded coolly. “I’m hungry, can this wait until after breakfast?”

Chaeyoung, standing behind you, nudged you. She could see in Jennie’s expression and body language how much the fight with her recycler had bothered her and felt kind of bad for her even though she did think that Jennie had been out of line in what she’d said to you last night.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

“Thank you,” Jennie said quietly before turning and walking into her room. You followed, closing the door behind you but standing right in front of it.

“Y/n-ie, please,” Jennie pouted at you, patting the bed next to her. Obviously, you couldn’t resist that look, so with a put-upon sigh, you crossed the room to sit next to her.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she said. The unexpected apology threw you for a loop, and you blinked at her, speechless. “I shouldn’t have said those things and accused you. That was rude of me.”

“Uhh…” you managed to get out, sounding, of course, like the most articulate genius who had ever roamed this earth.

“And I’m sorry for getting in the way of your, um… relations with Chaeng. I should have been more respectful, and I support your relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” you murmured. It was the only thing your mind could focus on at the moment.

“You’re not?” Jennie blinked.

“No, we’re just, um… friends with benefits, I guess,” you clarified.

“Oh.” Then, after a beat of silence, “Well, it’s none of my business anyway. I just want you to know that I think you deserve your privacy, and I was really rude last night.”

Feeling bad now, you reached over to take her hand. “Unnie, don’t say that. Of course it’s your business. You’re still my donator and I want us to be close too. I promise to be more open about it with you, okay?”

She made a face. “Not that open, I hope. I’m still traumatized from seeing Chaeng naked.”

You giggled. “You’ve lived together for years! You don’t mean to tell me you’ve never seen her naked before?”

“I never had to stare straight up her asshole before,” Jennie countered, causing the both of you to erupt in fits of laughter.

“Duly noted,” you conceded past giggles. “You seemed like you were in a bad mood last night too, unnie. Is everything going okay with you and Kai?” you asked with some concern.

She made a face. “It’s okay. He’s just having trouble adjusting to me having a recycler,” she explained. Last night they’d gotten into yet another argument over you – specifically, over her refusal to simply command you to get on your knees and drink his piss just because he wanted it. She didn’t quite understand why it was so hard for him to accept that you were a person, and she wasn’t about to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

Almost against her will, she started comparing Kai to you, even though she knew that was an unwise idea that was sure to have no good consequences. You, who was always there for her with your big eyes and big smile and a hug every time she felt bad, who knew the best and worst parts of her and didn’t shy away. It was unreasonable for her to expect the same of Kai, who was busy all the time with his own career and who obviously wasn’t as comfortable with her body as you were.

“I’m sorry I’m causing problems in your relationship, unnie,” you said, your eyes filled with remorse.

“No, it’s not your fault,” she rushed to assure you, pulling you into a hug. “He’s just being a dick right now.”

“I’m sorry for being mean last night too, unnie,” you apologized, looking at her with those wide, sad eyes that she couldn’t resist.

“It’s okay, baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize how unpleasant that whole experience was for you,” she said, making a little face. It hadn’t even occurred to her, but now that she thought about it, she realized how it would have been pretty gross for you, especially if you didn’t particularly like Kai. “I’ll talk to him about it to figure something out, okay?”

Your face was buried in her neck, but she felt your nod anyway.

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Perhaps she should have expected that the demise of her relationship would come soon after she started comparing you with Kai in her head. After all, there was no way he could have won that competition, even if he’d been the nicest man alive – which he definitely wasn’t.

Still, she hadn’t expected her relationship to end quite so soon and so abruptly. Sitting in the driver’s seat of her car in the basement carpark of Kai’s private apartment, she was crying too hard to be able to drive safely.

The night had started relatively well – Kai was on his best behavior after their fight the other night, and they’d had a nice dinner together. After that, however, when they retired to the bedroom, was when things started going downhill. Out of consideration to you, Jennie had brought a box of condoms that she tried to convince Kai to use, and he didn’t take it well, to say the least.

“What is this? Are you accusing me of something? We haven’t used condoms in months!” he said irritably, knocking the box out of her hands.

“Oppa, please, it’s not like that!” she pleaded.

“Then what is it? Are you off birth control?” he demanded.

“No… the IUD is still in,” she said meekly. YG had made them all get them before debut so that they wouldn’t accidentally get pregnant, even if they were having secret relationships.

“Then tell me why!”

“Why does there have to be a reason?! Isn’t it enough that I want you to use them? It’s my body too!” she yelled, getting defensive.

“I’m not saying no, I just want to know why!” he rebutted.

“Fine,” she said, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Y/n doesn’t like it when you leave your load inside me. It drips out after and she doesn’t like how it tastes.” She’d been hoping that the explanation would be enough, and they could get on with their night, but he grew even more angry at hearing the reason.

“Y/n?!” He exploded. “Who the fuck cares what she thinks? She’s your recycler, for God’s sake, not your girlfriend!”

“Oppa, please, she’s still my responsibility and we’re going to be together for a long time! I just don’t want to make her upset!”

“No, you don’t, so you’d rather sacrifice our relationship!”

“Our relationship? Oppa, please be reasonable, it’s just one little thing!”

He stopped short and looked at her somberly. “It’s not,” he told her. “You’re literally putting your recycler above me, above our relationship. You think her happiness is more important than mine.”

“It’s not! Oppa, please!” she begged, tears in her eyes.

“If you insist on the condoms… we’re over, Jennie-yah. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t prioritize me in her life.”

The ultimatum took her aback, and she stared at him with wide eyes for a minute, silently begging him to take it back, to explain that he’d just said that in the heat of the moment, and he didn’t actually want to end their relationship. But he didn’t, sitting down heavily on the bed instead and looking away from her.

Sadly, she began to collect her things from the room. “I didn’t want it to end like this, oppa,” she said softly.

“I know.” That was the last thing he said before she left.

With her vision still blurry from the tears, Jennie fumbled in her bag in the passenger seat to get her phone. She needed to hear your voice.

“Hello?” You picked up almost immediately, having had your phone next to you while you ate with Chaeyoung and Jisoo. Lisa was at the studio again practicing for a dance shoot. “Unnie? What’s up?”

Jennie sniffled. Hearing that, your mind shot into overdrive. “Unnie? Are you okay? Are you crying? Where are you?”

Right. Words were necessary. “We broke up,” was all she could say, though.

It was enough. You stood up so quickly that both Jisoo and Chaeyoung looked over with concern. “What? Are you still at his place?”

Jennie nodded, then realized you couldn’t see it. “Carpark,” she confirmed. “Can’t drive.”

“Okay, you just wait there, okay, unnie? We’ll come get you,” you assured her.

“Okay,” she sniffled, but didn’t want to hang up. “Y/n-ie? Can you stay on the phone?”

“Of course,” you promised. “Just give me a sec, okay?” She put the phone down and quickly explained what was going on to Jisoo and Chaeyoung, then the three of them got up and drove over to Kai’s apartment complex. On the way, you stayed on the phone with Jennie, continuing to talk to her about nothing while she just listened, letting you distract her.

You had some trouble with the security at the building, since of course they weren’t about to let some random people into the apartment complex, but since both Chaeyoung and Jisoo were in the car, they figured nothing bad could happen and finally let you in after you promised that you were just there to pick up someone.

It wasn’t difficult to spot Jennie’s car in the parking lot, since it was fairly empty, and you got out of the car and sprinted to her, pulling open the door on the driver’s side and peering in. Jennie was hunched forward, her hands grasping the top of the steering wheel and her forehead resting on her hands, and she turned to look up at you when she heard the door open.

“Y/n-ie—” she managed to get out, before bursting into tears again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you soothed, leaning in to give her an awkward hug and stroking her back. “Let’s get into the backseat, okay? Jisoo-unnie can drive your car home.”

Sniffling, Jennie nodded, climbing out of the driver’s seat and into the back. You followed after her, shutting the door, and Jennie immediately lay down with her head in your lap.

As you stroked her hair, Jisoo got into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine, starting the drive home. Chaeyoung followed in her own car.

Jennie continued crying for a while, then seemed to fall into a light doze while you draped your arm around her. You had to wake her up to get her back into the apartment, but you hadn’t let go of her the entire time, offering support and physical comfort where words failed you.

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Over the next few days, all the girls seemed to coalesce around Jennie, giving her hugs and making sure she was eating and drinking. The difficult part about being an idol was that even though she felt like shit about her breakup, she still had to go to fan meetings, interviews and events, acting like she was happy and chipper and that nothing was wrong.

It was during those times that she sought your support the most. You were always there in the wings or in the audience, milling around with the staff and sending her encouraging smiles and gestures whenever you saw her looking at you. During breaks and between commitments, you would always be by her side, holding her hand or giving her cute hugs and telling her what a great job she was doing.

Even as time passed and she started to get better, she continued to rely on your encouragement, which you eagerly gave. Your relationship grew closer than ever, and Jennie would have been pleased if she hadn’t been so confused. She’d initially wanted a recycler for the sisterly relationship she thought she could foster, but even though you were doing all the things she’d expected and hoped for, she didn’t think of you as a sister.

Instead, she found herself looking at you while you were doing other things, admiring the way your lashes rested against your cheekbones and the focused furrow of your brow. The times of day when she would seek you out because she had to pee became her favourite, purely because she had your entire attention.

Okay, that was a lie. She was starting to love the inherent eroticism of the act, even though that had never been something she’d considered before. The feeling of your lips caressing her slit, your eyes looking up at her with such joy and devotion even as she was peeing in your mouth, the conscientious way you always licked her clean after… she hoped you weren’t noticing the way she would bite her lip when she felt your ministrations on her.

Once, on a really hard day when she’d been at an awards show that included EXO, you’d been extra sweet to her when she decided she couldn’t take it and excused herself to go to the restroom. You’d found her in a deserted corridor, pacing around with her hands on her hips.

“Unnie?” you called, skipping over to her. “You okay?”

“Oh,” she relaxed as she looked up and saw you. “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetie. Just a little stressed out from everything.”

Reaching her, you gave her a hug that she gratefully sank into. “I’m sorry, unnie. Just a little longer, okay? Fighting!”

Pulling back to look her in the face, you were surprised when she instead leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re always so good to me, Y/n-ie.”

You giggled bashfully. “It’s the least I could do, unnie. You’re always so thoughtful of me! I just want to make you happy too.”

Your cuteness made her want to hug you more tightly, but the urgent needs of her body had to take precedence for now. She let you go and pulled back, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Stress drinking water was really not the way to go when at an awards show, she admonished herself.

“You look like you’re in a bit of a state there, unnie,” you teased even as you dropped to your knees in front of her.

“Oh, shut up,” she groaned, leaning against the wall and throwing her head back as you pulled her panties and safety shorts down. The short dress she was wearing may look impractical, but it was actually immensely helpful for situations such as this.

“It’s okay, unnie,” you soothed as you stroked her hip, shuffling closer. “I’ve got you,” you said right before pressing your lips to her pussy, your mouth open to catch her urine.

The feeling of your soft, warm lips on her pussy and the tender, reassuring words you said right before you put them there was almost too much for Jennie, and she had to close her eyes to regain composure before she did something ridiculous like try to grind her clit against your face. Focus, she reminded herself sternly. She wasn’t going to be one of those donators who exploited her recycler, someone who was in a position completely dependent on her.

By this point, peeing in your mouth was as natural to Jennie as using a toilet had been in the past, and it didn’t take any effort at all for her to start the stream. She let out a big sigh of relief as pee started jetting out of her. She’d really had to go, and the feeling of letting it out was almost euphoric, making her shudder with how good it felt.

Your gaze drifted up to her face, her brow slightly furrowed and her mouth open as she continued peeing in your mouth. You were gulping it down as quickly as possible, trying desperately to keep up with her stream, but you couldn’t help but notice how sexy she looked like that. You could almost imagine her making that face for a different reason, and slightly embarrassed at the direction that your thoughts had taken, you lowered your gaze once again.

As you did so, Jennie opened her eyes and looked down at you, struck by the view. You looked completely focused on your task of drinking the pee she’d held in her body for so many hours. Was there a purer expression of devotion, of care, than this? The last of her pee drained out of her into your mouth, and you smiled up at her before licking her clean.

This time, you took extra care to get every bit, swirling your tongue gently as you lapped at her core. When you were done, you pressed tender, wet kisses to either side of her, then one directly over her clit, gazing up at her as you did so. She definitely deserved a little bit more love today. Kai had been staring at her the entire time, and you knew she was stressed.

When you were done, you helped her back into her clothes silently. “Shall we head back, unnie?” you asked with a smile.

“You go ahead,” she demurred. “I need a minute before I can go back in there.” She intentionally phrased it so you’d think she was talking about Kai, and you squeezed her arm sympathetically before leaving her, licking your lips clean as you went.

When she thought about what she’d done next instead, she still flushed. Instead of cooling off, she all but ran into the restroom down the hall, a room she’d honestly thought she’d never have to set foot in again, and had her hand in her panties the moment the stall door clanged shut. With one hand frigging herself desperately and the other covering her mouth to make sure no errant noises escaped, she brought herself to a hasty, unfulfilling orgasm. It didn’t matter, though. It was enough to cool her blood for the time being.

After washing her hands and cleaning up, Jennie returned to the awards ceremony, where Jisoo immediately draped an arm around her shoulders and started stroking her hair comfortingly. You must have told the other girls that she’d been having a hard time with Kai here, she thought. She appreciated your concern, but it really made things all the more awkward for her when instead of freaking out about it, she’d been off masturbating to the thought of you drinking her piss and eating her out.

The situation eventually grew more serious, to the point that Jennie was sure she was doing a piss-poor (ha) job at keeping it a secret. How was she supposed to get her head on straight when you literally had your mouth on her cunt multiple times every day?

---------------------------------

You could, in fact, confirm that Jennie wasn’t keeping her growing attraction to you under wraps. It wasn’t her fault – she couldn’t exactly help the fact that she was often wet when you got on your knees from her. You could literally see the arousal shining on her pussy before she covered your face with it, and the way the slick smeared on your face was kind of a dead giveaway.

Still, you didn’t say or do anything because you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, trusting that she would speak up if she wanted to. It would only make things awkward if you pushed her before she was ready. After all, if she turned you down or denied it, you’d still be stuck to her 24/7, for the foreseeable future.

No, it was better for things to remain the way things were, you determined.

Despite your better judgement, however, you were still a little shit at heart and took pleasure in riling Jennie up and possibly hinting to her that you’d be open to a development in your relationship. You were getting increasingly bold with the liberties you took under the guise of ‘cleaning her’, sometimes even giving her clit a naughty little suck just to ‘get it all out’, or sliding your tongue so deep along her slit that you could taste her arousal.

She never broke though, even though you could feel the minute movements sometimes as she rocked her hips slightly in response to your ministrations, and she often ran off right after getting up off your face, probably to masturbate somewhere. Every time she did, you’d sigh and lick your lips clean, wishing she would let you help with that too.

Chaeyoung, predictably enough, found the whole thing hilarious. Having a front-row seat to your mutual crushes on each other was seriously top-notch entertainment, she thought, especially since you were both so utterly oblivious about your feelings. As your feelings for Jennie grew, you stopped seeking Chaeyoung out for sex, and your relationship instead mellowed into a tightly knit friendship. There were no hard feelings on either side, since Chaeyoung had mostly been in it for the sex anyway. Being a gay idol was really hard, and you’d provided physical and emotional support for a period of time.

These days, you mostly hid in Chaeyoung’s bed to whine about Jennie and cuddled her when she felt like she would never find a girlfriend, given the restrictions on her life as long as she was an idol. Jennie, however, didn’t know that, and increasingly was filled with jealousy whenever you disappeared to look for Chaeyoung. Once, when she’d seen pictures of a wedding between two of her cheer teammates, you’d ended up spending the whole night with her as she cried.

Jennie tried to be understanding – she knew that she didn’t own you, and that Chaeyoung was clearly going through something. But she was going through something too, god dammit, and she wished you would cuddle her and kiss her forehead and tell her it was all going to be okay the way you did with Chaeyoung sometimes on the couch.

Well, it would be difficult for you to do that with her since her issue was that she was falling for you, but still.

Chaeyoung was fully aware of Jennie’s jealousy, too. It wasn’t like she was even trying to be subtle about it, looking over and sighing or pouting whenever she saw the two of you wrapped up cozily together.

Eventually, when it got boring for Chaeyoung to deal with the longing, sidelong glances and wistful sighs, she finally decided to talk to Jennie about you.

Predictably enough, Jennie was reluctant, but Chaeyoung had, by this point, had years of experience prying secrets out of her older member, and was now adept at it. Call her the Jennie whisperer, she thought to herself as she invited Jennie for coffee, just the two of them, like they’d used to as trainees when Lisa and Jisoo were off doing whatever it was the two of them did alone.

Sipping her iced coffee, Chaeyoung eyed Jennie, noting the sadness she thought she was hiding as she stirred the sugar into her drink. “Unnie, are you okay? You just seem really down lately,” she prompted the older girl.

Jennie looked up in surprise, then relaxed. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just Kai, y’know?”

“Unnie, that was months ago! What’s really bothering you?” Chaeyoung pressed.

Abruptly becoming defensive, Jennie’s shoulders drew up around her shoulders. “Nothing’s bothering me,” she said.

“All right,” Chaeyoung accepted, though it was clear from her raised brow that she didn’t believe her. “I’m glad we got to do this, unnie,” she continued with a smile. “We never get to spend time together anymore, just the two of us.”

“That’s true,” Jennie agreed. “We’re always so busy these days…”

“Yeah, and Y/n is always hanging around you too…”

It was like a cloud abruptly formed over Jennie’s head when she heard your name. “She’s not always hanging around me,” she muttered with some bitterness. Sometimes she was spending time with Chaeyoung, after all. It was just a little bit annoying for the person who’d been stealing time with her own recycler to be saying that.

“Unnie, come on! She never leaves your side,” Chaeyoung laughed. She was intentionally goading Jennie, but the older girl seemed to be falling for it hook, line and sinker without even realizing that she was being played.

“That is so not true,” Jennie huffed. Her jealousy got the better of her, and she snapped, “She’s always hanging around you these days.”

A beat of silence, then Chaeyoung said with delight, “Unnie, are you jealous?”

“What? N-no!” Jennie denied, flustered now. “Why would I be jealous? She’s just my recycler. She can sleep with whoever she wants.”

“Wait, who said anything about sleeping together? I thought we were talking about just hanging out.”

“We were, I mean—oh, fuck.” Caught red-handed, Jennie slumped miserably onto the table in front of her, hiding her face from her dongsaeng.

“You know, you should really just talk to her,” Chaeyoung said, uncaring of Jennie’s dramatics.

“I can’t,” Jennie protested, her voice muffled. “I have to be responsible for her. She’s going to think that I’m trying to pressure her.”

“Unless…” Chaeyoung trailed off, and Jennie raised her head to look at her.

“Unless?” she asked.

Chaeyoung winked. “Maybe she feels the same way about you.”

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Now that Chaeyoung had planted that thought in her mind, Jennie couldn’t stop thinking about it. She saw hints of it in the way you happily ran to give her a hug when she came home, the way you snuggled up to her at night, and in all the thoughtful little gestures that showed how much attention you paid to her. You brought her snacks and water during her meets and shoots when they ran overtime, and always encouraged her during practice and recording sessions.

As much as she tried not to overthink it, it was impossible not to read into the little ways you made her feel special especially when you were drinking from her. The cozy way your face nestled into her ass when she sat on the chair, or the almost reverent, worshipful way you looked up at her when she stood over you, the way you licked her clean so slowly and thoroughly that there was no way you were oblivious to how wet she became, and those sweet, soft kisses you’d taken to littering on her pussy when you were done licking her.

There was no way you’d do all that unless you felt some type of way for her, right?

Despite Chaeyoung’s intervention and her own increasing desire for more between the two of you, it actually took a rather embarrassing mistake on her part to force her hand.

Since she’d broken up with Kai, she’d entered somewhat of a sex drought, which meant it was easier than ever for you to turn her on, something you took pleasure in doing, especially at home on days when she didn’t have any schedules. She knew this, and yet she could never bring herself to stop you by getting up before you were done ‘cleaning’ her, always hungry for more.

On this particular day, your face was under her on the chair when she made the mistake of looking down at you between her legs. She could only see the lower half of your face, of course, yet the sight of your tongue so eager to please was definitely her new kryptonite, she decided on the spot. As you licked a stripe from her clit to her asshole, she shuddered and let out a soft moan, rolling her hips slightly to get more friction.

A second later, she paused and stiffened, hoping that you hadn’t heard that.

Unfortunately, from your giggle, she knew that was not the case, and started to rise, intending to beat a hasty retreat. Before she could get up, however, your arms shot out, grabbing her by the hips. “Unnie,” you whined.

“Y-Y/n,” she stammered, trying harder to shake off your grasp and stand up. Eventually, you let her, but when she turned back to look at you, you were pouting up at her through the hole in the seat.

“Unnie, don’t you want me to finish?” you asked.

“You— I— what?” Reduced to stammering now, she started backing away from you, and you hastily got out from under the seat to sit on the ground.

“I mean, I knew that you were liking it more than you wanted to admit,” you told her, your eyes wide with sincerity. “I don’t mind helping you out, you know.”

“But… but Chaeyoung…” Jennie was grasping at straws now.

You shrugged. “We haven’t slept together in months, unnie. I want this,” you said, leaning forward. “If you’re okay with it, that is.”

“Wait… what is it you want exactly?” She didn’t think she could handle just being friends with benefits with you, even if her libido was screaming at her to take what she could get.

“I want to be your recycler… friend… girlfriend, if you want…?” You peeked up at her from under your lashes, nervous now from laying all your cards on the table.

“Really?” She knelt on the floor to look you in the eye properly. “You really want that? You’re not just saying it because you think I do?”

“You do?” Surprise coloured your tone. “I thought you were just horny after your breakup.”

Jennie flushed. “Well, I mean, there is that,” she coloured. “But no… I really do have feelings for you. It’s probably part of why my relationship with Jongin-oppa didn’t work out.”

You giggled. “Well, if you don’t mind… I’d love to give this a shot,” you confessed.

“I would love that too,” Jennie breathed, leaning in to kiss you, because she needed to occupy her mouth with something before she blurted out something stupid, like that she loved you.

To her surprise and displeasure, however, you leaned back when it became clear what she was trying to do. “Wait, wait! Don’t you want me to brush my teeth or something?” you asked, clapping a hand over your mouth.

She laughed. “I don’t care, silly,” she said, pulling you closer with a hand on the nape of your neck. With that out of the way, you eagerly draped your arms around her neck and pulled her close for a kiss. It was soft and sweet and everything you’d dreamed of with her… until she broke away to pull you to her bed.

“Moving a little fast there, aren’t you, unnie?” you giggled as she straddled you. She hadn’t put her clothes back on, so she was wearing only a shirt.

“You’ve been teasing me for months,” she complained as she leaned down to kiss you again, this one deeper and filthier, leaving you breathless.

“Fair enough,” you said, letting her pull your shirt off. You retaliated by stripping hers off too, and then she shuffled down to take care of your shorts and panties. “What do you want to do?”

She moved with a sense of purpose and drive that indicated she’d thought about this a lot, shuffling up to your face and straddling it, facing your body. Leaning forward, she pulled your legs apart and ran her fingers along your soaked slit before raising her fingers to her mouth. “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw Chaeng on top of you,” she growled before lowering her pussy to your face.

You ate her out ravenously, excited after all those months of stolen moments where you gradually pushed the limits to see where she would draw the line. You already knew how she tasted, but you wanted her to use you for her pleasure, grind on your face and moan and scream when you made her feel good.

Diligently, you lapped at her clit, experimenting with different strokes and speeds until you found one that seemed to make her go crazy. She dropped her head, pressing her cheek to your thigh for a few seconds before regaining composure and redoubling her efforts to make you cum. Of course, this was a competition she was bound to lose, since you’d had a head start earlier.

“Unnie, your cunt tastes so good,” you moaned into her core between the sucking and licking. “Your piss is so fucking tasty too, I love it.”

Your nasty words spurred her on, and she ground her pussy against your face, groaning at the stimulation on her clit. “Fuck, you feel so good,” she huffed, forgetting about your pleasure as she chased her own relentlessly. “Such a nasty little slut for me, aren’t you?”

Since it didn’t seem like she had the bandwidth to, you took over stimulating yourself, rubbing at your clit with your fingers. “Yeah, I’m your dirty slut, unnie,” you gasped, before sucking her clit into your mouth and flicking it with your tongue repeatedly. The movement sent her stratospheric and she cried out as she came, gushing cream straight into your mouth.

“Oh, God,” she exhaled shakily when it was over, lifting herself off your face. “You’re such a good girl,” she praised, her fingers sliding along your cunt again and knocking your hand out of the way as she began fingering you in earnest, wanting to pay you back for the orgasm you’d just gifted her.

“Ah, unnie,” you moaned, your hips rising off the bed as you chased her touch. “That feels so good, yes, yes—” Your eyes closed, and you gasped, small, choked cries leaving your mouth as you came, clenching down on her fingers. She worked you diligently through it, only pulling her hand away when you started to make small noises of pain as overstimulation set in.

“That was so good, unnie,” you said in a soft, tired voice as she collapsed on the bed next to you. Pulling her close, you nuzzled your nose against hers.

“Likewise,” she smiled before her lips met yours in a kiss, this one chaste and sweet after your mutual lust had been slaked.

“Thank you for giving us a shot,” you murmured, closing your eyes in contentment.

“No,” she corrected you, wrapping her arms around you. “Thank you for being mine.”

You knew what she meant, and your lips lifted in a small smile. You would always be hers, and she would never forget to appreciate it. Neither of you were willing to call it love yet, but you knew that would come. There was no rush – you were her recycler, you’d always be together.