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kimnjss · 4 years

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tricky part | knj

⤑ series: plot twist

⤑ pairing: rapper!namjoon x rich girl!reader

⤑ genre: fluff?? (idk, man. i think they’re cute.) ahem, some smut... nd we get a little angsty, of course.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 8.1K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: (mentions of alcohol abuse). slight dirty talk, cursing, fingering, nipple play, handjob, unprotected sex, cumshot, doggy style, light hair pulling, multiple orgasms... i think that’s it.

⤑ chapter song: tonight (i wish i was your boy) - the 1975 (the entire song is namjoon is swear...)

⤑ A/N: hiiii! this is wicked late ., i took a nap today nd it was amazing . let me know what you think !! x

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 17:09

It takes longer than usual for you to get ready, stuck in the mirror contemplating whether or not what you're wearing is good enough. If maybe you should put your hair up instead of letting it fall freely. Would it be showing too much? But you wanted to show a little, right? This was a date after all, who didn't tease a little on the first date?

But this was Namjoon. Sensible, cautious, easily frazzled Namjoon. Would it turn him off? Or fluster him so he's showing off that cute dimpled smile of us. The one that he let slip when without even noticing it, cheeks flushing pink as he tried to avoid eye contact. Gosh, he was so cute!

Okay! Perfect solution, you're thinking as your eyes find the hair elastic on your dresser. You'd bring the hair tie and feel things out, read the room, and with the first desire to jump his bones, you'd tie your hair up. Giving him a perfect look at your shimmery collarbones, thank you Fenty, and the slope of your neck. No doubt he'd find himself thinking about pressing his lips against your skin at the sight of it.

Boys were simple. All of them. A mere flash of skin and they were putty in your hands. Joon was cute with it, though. So you'd let it slide.

Your phone lights up, humming against your sheets. His name flashes in bold, waking up the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Weird. He must be here, no doubt outside waiting for you right now. He'd think you looked nice, right? Grant you one of his lingering stares that he's always so quick to avert.

That's when you knew you caught his eye. Pride warms your chest each and every time you're catching him. It took a little bit more effort to get Namjoon to turn his head. Yet, he was still a boy at the end of it. He'd end up looking at you one way or another, it's all about how you present it.

Which is exactly why you were yellow. A yellow two-piece that highlights the best parts of you. And you're sure you've made the right decision when you catch the stutter in his step, eyes flickering from your face to your legs then back again. Forcing himself not to look away the entire time you're walking up to him, black platform heels carrying you with ease. Only a few inches below him with them on.

“Hi,” You're saying with a grin, hand reaching out to grasp his bicep. Giving it a little squeeze and watching the way his eyes go wide. He's wearing sweats but still looks so good. As if he's stood in front of you in a three-piece suit, although you might be exaggerating.

He doesn't shake you off but doesn't exactly relax in your touch either. Fingers tapping against his thigh and you can't help but wonder if he's holding himself back from touching you. Lame. “You're wearing yellow,” He says after a moment, stating it as fact rather than something that was intentionally done for him and his attention.

Eyes rolling on a laugh, you're nodding your head. “Yeah. You like yellow,”

“I do,” His nod is curt and his tone is military.

Huffing, while stepping forward, easily pulling him a bit close to you. “Okay, rule number on to this date...” Lifting a single finger for reference. His eyes flicker to it before he's looking back down at you. “You're not allowed to think tonight, got it? No analyzing, calculating. Weighing the options. Just do and talk, get loose.” Giving his shoulder a playful shake, you're shocked to hear the laugh that falls from his lips.

Like an actual, really pretty laugh. “Alright, deal.” A proud smile threatens to split your face when you feel his hand lift, hesitant at first but landing on the small of the back. Albeit, just to guide you, but it's still something. “Let's get going,” He's guiding you with the gentle hand on your back, barely touching you but you're stomach was doing backflips.

How quickly the roles reversed. Hands clasped in front of you, urging yourself to calm down. To stop acting like some thirteen year old who still hasn't had their first kiss. You were twelve years and eighteen kisses past that. Get it together.

“Where's your car?” Stepping on your tiptoes, attempting to peak up the street to spot it. “Actually, what kind of car do you even drive? I've never seen it?” Eyes shifting up toward him, a quizzical look on your face.

You're missing the soft, “I don't...” That falls from his lips because you're brain is working overtime to guess what car he could possibly drive. “Hm, you kinda look like a Chevy guy... maybe a Honda? But, I could be wrong. Definitely not a sports car, though.” You couldn't imagine Joon in one of those loud, low to the ground car.

Whipping through traffic as if where he had to go was much more important than all the other people on the road. Yeah, that didn't fit.

He's taking offense to this for some reason, nose scrunching, and hands finding his hips. His steps even come to a halt. “Hey. Why not a sports car?”

You're letting out a laugh, not at him, of course. Just at how adorable he looks right now. Actually pouting, with his arms crossed in the middle of the sidewalk. You've never seen him like this, not even sure where this new Joon came from. But he might be even cuter than the Joon you knew and had a huge crush on.

Moving toward him, not even bothering to stop yourself from poking his pouted lip. “Come on, that's totally out of character. You're practical and sensible. You wouldn't splurge on a sports car, that's not even durable. Those cars get torn apart in accidents,” He's not really mad, obviously. Which is why it doesn't take long for him to lose the face.

“So which one is it? Honda or Chevy?”

A large arm is dropping around your shoulder, tucking you into his side as the two of you continue your timed steps down the sidewalk. “Neither. I don't have a car. Or my license,” Eyes nearly popping out of your head with his words, stopping in your tracks to get a good look at him. Just in case you might've heard him wrong.

But he shows no signs of correcting himself or clarifying what he had just said. “Wait. So how are we going to get there!?” Did he expect you to walk!? All the way to Daejeon? In these shoes... they were cute, but not the most comfortable. And they didn't need to be because they weren't meant for walking 100 miles at a time!

“We're gonna take the train, of course. How else?” He's not even looking like he knows he's talking nonsense.

Like, honestly. Did he expect you to ride a gross train dressed like this!? What if you got robbed? Or kidnapped? Or worse, thrown up on!? This outfit was irreplaceable, one of a kind. No way could you take it on a train, that wouldn't do. “No. That won't be necessary. I'll just call one of my drivers, they'll come get us,” You've got your phone out before you're even finishing your sentence.

Namjoon is quick to pluck the device from your fingers, a sly smile playing on his features as he tucks it into his pocket. “Let those people spend time with their families. It's Sunday. There won't even be that many people,” Two firm hands placed on your shoulders, he's turning you effortlessly. “The train, it'll be fun.”

“You're the only guy, in the universe that thinks riding the train will be fun.” He's laughing again and it's not cute as it was a few minutes ago. “Oh no, I meant fun for me. You're gonna hate it,”

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 17:37

Just as you predicted, the train is gross. And sticky. Crowded and sweaty. Joon holds you close as you weave through the sea of people, fingers laced with yours. Although you know it's purely for survival purposes, the flutter in your heart still rises from feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

You try not to make a huge deal about it. People rode the train every day and considering how many of them were in here, they've all survived. You'd be fine. Especially with this six-foot angel clearing the way for you at every turn.

Joon finds a seat for the both of you against the wall. Close with your thighs pressed together and he still hasn't released your hand from his grasp. It's cozy beside him, warm. Leaning your weight on to him, you try to be subtle but probably fail. He's concentrating on something on his phone and from the quick peak you were able to sneak, you see he's checking on your reservation for tonight.

Stomach flipping at the tiny fact he made a reservation for you two. It's so Namjoon to want to be triple prepared for anything, but the fact that it's in your favor makes you happy. No idea why, but that was the truth of the matter. More often than not happy when you were around him.

Even cramped in this stinky train, his hand in yours was enough to convince you, you were in the back of a limo. The unfocused chatter around you replaced with soft music that you'd play. Probably something he likes to listen to. His taste in music was quickly becoming yours the more time the two of you spent together.

He's dropping your hand for some reason that you don't realize until you're looking up to see him standing. Offering his spot to some brat with a broken leg. What the heck? Were you supposed to hold hands with this kid? Up without a word, didn't even bother to ask if you wanted him to get up.

Joining the other people standing, holding on to the railing and you're quickly deciding you don't like the distance. He watches as you stand to your feet, nose brushing against his chin. “Sit,” Gesturing to your now empty spot, earning a raised brow from him.

“Come on, Yn. Your feet are gonna hurt. Just relax,” He tries to lower you back into your spot, but you're moving to the side with a shake of your head. “I'll be fine. Just sit,” Catching the stubborn glint in your eye, just begging him to argue, he chooses to drop it. Switching spots with you and sinking into the empty spot.

Not even a second after he's settling into the cushion, you're dropping yourself onto his lap. Arm wrapped around his shoulders, legs between his. Bum pressed firmly into his thigh. “Did you really think I was going to stand?” You laugh. He doesn't even look the least bit surprised, eyes rolling – but you catch the smile on the corner of his lips.

His hand finds the outer part of your thigh, holding your body steady as the car jostles. He doesn't move it even after the machine has settled, has even taken to tapping out a rhythm against your skin.

It's nice. Your new favorite song.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:17

You had to hand it to the guy, Kim Namjoon knew how to put a date together. Pure perfection from beginning to end, you're not sure if it's his careful attention to detail or the small possibility that he wanted to impress you... you've decided to go with the latter.

The entirety of dinner was spent talking about everything and nothing. Actually getting to know each other aside from the surface level, 'I make good music and you screen it while balancing your massive crush on me,'. He was telling you about the time he first met Yoongi: second year of high school, Yoongi was a really cool Senior, the type of cool guy that everyone knows, but like doesn't talk to anyone. He found Joon making out with some cheerleader in the band room, her hand down the front of his jeans... and made it all of his business to tease him about it for the rest of the semester.

Never would you have deemed Joonie as the type to take part in such excessive PDA, and although he insists it was not his idea... well, agree to disagree.

You were even telling him about the first time you got blackout drunk, which resulted in you being banned from every last Shake Shack. The only thing you remember from that night was getting in the car to head to the club, already started pre-gaming beforehand. But as Jungkook likes to tell it, you were a melting pot of 'types of' drunks.

Started the night trying to fistfight the bouncer, after only fifteen minutes in the club, which resulted in you... and all of your friends being kicked out. Went from not-so-discreetly trying to mount your boyfriend at the time, Jackson, to crying on the bathroom floor Shake Shack all before you were puking in the booth, after swearing (a million times) that you 'weren't gonna throw up'.

Followed by a screaming match between you and Hoseok as he apologized a thousand times over to the employee he had to call over for the mess, trying to assist her while she tried her best to keep a smile on her face. Jungkook carried you to the car, full-blown had to haul you over his shoulder as you screamed curses at your brother.

You don't remember any of that, though. Next thing you remember from that night after getting in the car to leave, was waking up to the sound of loud video games, hanging half-naked off the side of Jackson's bed.

You're more embarrassed than you though, telling that story out loud. how bad you used to be. That was the worst of it, but the other times weren't too great either. Of course, you've calmed down a bit. Really tried each and every time you were sent away to clean up your act. And you were good for a few months after you came back, and then you were not.

Surprisingly, Joon doesn't look disgusted when you tell him. And you're not sure if that's a good thing or not. Either he's extremely understanding or he was expecting your most embarrassing story to be something of the sort. You hope for the former but suspect the latter.

In reality, though. Namjoon found himself trying to figure out just what could've been going on in your life that you felt like any of that would help. He now knew with you there was always something hidden, a reason to your behavior that you oftentimes liked to brush off. Must've been bad. You probably had a hard time.

The highlight of the night, though, was hands down the play. You're not even sure if he knew what it was about when he chose it, but you were falling in love from the moment the current went up. Characters so vivid and engaging, dealing with real-life shit all while living in fear of the darkness that looms over their tiny village.

It wasn't hard for you to get totally immersed in the show, laughing along, getting upset, crying. And Joon stays seated by you the entire time, holding on to your hand. Not so sure when he picked it up, but he hasn't let it go in a while. Not that you were complaining. You liked the tiny shocks that followed every brush of his fingers.

He smiles when you laugh, laughs when you get upset, and wipes your tears when you cry. You're so sure, he missed the entire show.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:20

“You know, my best friend's an actor. Kinda a big deal at his agency... I could talk to him?” Joon throws in casually as the two of you make your way out of the theater, talking as he tosses his empty popcorn carton into the garbage. As if he didn't just drop some life-changing news.

You've heard of his friend, Kim Taehyung. Was an extra in his very first big drama role, a historical one where he faced an untimely death. The two of you never crossed paths and shared zero scenes together, but it was still pretty cool. To you. He didn't know you from a hole in the wall and the last thing you'd do was act like anyone's biggest fan.

But, this? What Namjoon was offering... that could be huge. The start that you needed and you wouldn't even have to go through your father. You could do it all on your own... kinda. “Oh! That would be amazing, Joon!? Why didn't...”

As quickly as the excitement hits you, it's being knocked right out of your body. The job that you already have and everything else that surrounded it. No way could you accept this. “Actually,” You're forcing a smile for Namjoon to see, “Let's put a pin in it. I want to focus on the company,” You wonder if it sounds as robotic as it feels.

“Why? You hate that place?” His hand has found yours again, arms swinging slightly as you walk. There's this curious look on his face like you're not making any sense. And you're not.

Why wouldn't you jump on the first chance to ditch that hell hole? The opportunity was right in front of your face, so why wouldn't you take it? You must be an idiot. Stockholm Syndrome? “Can I tell you a secret?” You're whispering despite the fact it's just the two of you on the street.

“Sure,” Gently, he's pulling you just a bit off of the path. Figuring whatever you have to tell him might be something he wants to sit down for, so he's getting comfortable on a bench, tugging you down beside him.

Not once letting go of your hand. “Hoseok is putting out an album in a few months. He's been juggling that and work-work. The time when my dad came down to talk to me... about the whole Hyungwon thing, he said he'd tank the album if I didn't start acting right,” That actually does surprise Joon, eyes going wide as a barely audible gasp leaving his lips.

You can just about guess what he's thinking, 'what kind of father...?'. And the easy answer was, yours. Your type of father would. Your type of father has. “That's why I need to stay focused. I can't screw up, he's been working so hard. I wouldn't be able to live with myself I ruin everything for him. Again.” That was a story for another time.

“Yn. That's fucked up. Does Hobi know?”

Scoffing, your eyes roll automatically. “Of course not and don't tell him. He thinks our dad is the best. 'Strict, but the best'.” Your tone changes slightly to mock his deeper voice. “Thinks he's hard on me only because of how I act and while I know that doesn't help, that wouldn't change anything. We're all just pawns in his game. His stupid Legacy.”

It's weird because you don't even sound sad. Just numb. Like you've accepted that this was how the way things were and this was how they were going to be. He wished there was something he could do, stand up to your dad for you, tell him all the things you're afraid to. But that would be stupid, for him and for you. It wasn't his place and he'd only make it worse. No matter how badly he wanted to just step in, there was really only one thing he could do.

Your hand is much smaller in his, soft and cute. Nails painted a pretty deep blue to compliment the yellow of your dress. Squeezing softly, he's lifting his lips into a smile for you to see. And since he's been trying to take your advice and stop thinking so much, he's lifting your hand. Pressing feather-like kisses against your knuckles.

The gesture so sickeningly-sweet, you're not sure if you should puke or cry. Or both. He's looking up at you, smiling really wide before he's moving closer, lips finding your forehead making you feel warm all over. Butterflies holding a wrestling match in your stomach and you might just burst into tears.

“I can't interfere with your family. Especially when you're not asking me to. Just know, if you ever want to start doing what you really want I'll support it. I'll support you.” You feel the pressure building behind your eyes, the thickness in your throat. All over three stupid words that you had no idea you've been waiting to hear.

It's overwhelming. Desperately fighting back the wetness that teases your waterline. With a hard blink and a huff of air – you're pushing a smile onto your face. Aware of how fake it looks, but it'll have to do as you lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” You're grinning, hand patting his knee before you're hopping up from your spot beside him on the bench.

A hand extended down to him. “Come on, dessert on me!” You giggle because it feels right. And he takes your hand, allowing you to pull him from to his feet. Tugging him along behind you with your face pointed to the night sky. Not saying anything until you're sure your voice won't break.

And even then it's a quiet mumble, “You've earned something sweet.”

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:59

Your hair has gone up. Revealing the slope of your neck and the shimmer on your collarbones. And as you predicted, Joon watches you through the entire process. Lips wrapped around your ice cream cone, holding it in place as your hands move quickly to pull your hair out of your face. His gaze dropping to your mouth as you lick mess the treat his left from your lips.

Hook. Line. And sinker.

“Do you have any weird kinks?” You don't even look at him when you say it, focus on creating a peak on your ice cream cone.

Joon's choking a cough out around his shaved ice, eyes blinking hard as he clears his throat, lifting his gaze up to you. “Excuse me, what!?” An easy laugh falls from your lips, shoulders shrugging slightly. Taking pride in how easily you could fluster. “You know... weird kinks. Things that get you going, but are kinda weird,”

“Like a fetish?” You're shrugging, barely interested in the choice of word. “I'm sure there's a difference, but for the sake of this. Sure,”

He had to have something, there was no way he didn't. Everyone had something and you refused to believe that he was even composed and well thought out in that area. There had to be something that made him lose his cool. Had to be.

“Uhm,” He's clearing his throat, cheeks seeming to grow darker the more time you spent staring at him. “I wouldn't say it's weird, but I like...” His attention falls to his dessert, twirling his spoon around in the frozen shavings. Would you think it was too weird? Consider it a deal-breaker and decide to not talk to him again. You probably wouldn't even care, there wasn't much that you cared about he was finding.

But, you could surprise him. And what if... wait, why was he even stressing about this in the first place!? “Why are you even asking me this?” Such a random topic interrupting your peaceful silence staring at the water.

Again, you lift your shoulders in a shrug. “I'm curious. Here, I'll tell you mine.” You pause to flash a breathtaking grin up at him. “Put your hand up,” Joon doesn't even hesitate to lift his palm, heart stuttering when you're pressing yours against his. As if you're comparing sizes and he can't help but curl his fingers down into the space that's left.

“See that? What you just did? Drives me crazy. And also...” Hand dropping from his to lay flat on his chest and on reflex his muscle is tensing, pecs jumping underneath your touch. It's actually so sexy you contemplate dropping to your knees right then and there. You suppress the urge, but don't make any moves to lifting your hand. “Big hands? And muscles. Phew. Throw in a pair of cute dimples and it's over,”

It's obvious at this point that you're literally referring to him, not intentionally of course. He just happened to check every last one of those boxes. “Why's that?” He's staring at you with these eyes that you've never seen before. Dark and filled with want.

You liked it.

“Makes me feel cute and small, I guess. Like if you... or any guy, but let's just say you, were to use your big hands to pick me up and hold me there while we-” His eyes go wide when he catches on to the end of your sentence, rushing out a frantic, 'Oh okay, I get it!'. Watch as you bursting into a fit of giggles.

He ignores you, taking to peering around the bridge, checking for anyone within earshot that might've heard what you were about to say. Only to find that you two were the only people out here. Unless he was worried about judgmental glares from the birds, you were fine.

“So...” He's starting only after he's done his full scenery check. “You like feeling small, then? That's interesting,” Forever impossible to read, no idea what he meant by interesting, but as always you were running with it.

Steering this night, which had been an amazing date, in a direction that was a little less PG. Brow arched and a smirk playing on your lips, you move into his space. Hand sliding down the front of his body, meeting his waist. Holding a soft grip on the fabric of his sweater, you rise onto your toes, nose just inches from his.

“And? What do you plan to do with this information?” Could swear a small gasp falls from his lips, feeling your free hand tug on the long drawstring of his pants.

There are a million and one thoughts running through his mind right now. Every last one of them revolving around you. How good you look underneath that skirt, how good you smell standing this close to him. The way he could see the faint freckles on your cheeks, faded from your makeup. Yet, through all of his mangled thoughts, there's one that stands out amongst all of them.

You're so beautiful.

And not in the ways that you'd think. Yes, your face fit the standard, and the confidence you carried yourself with was more than deserved, but there was more. Beautiful underneath all of that and he could see it and even with this new stiffness tenting at the front of his jeans, it's all he can focus on.

Soft giggles fill his ears, coming from you realizing the way he was staring at you. Not saying a single word, just looking. “You're stalling. What's yours?” Taking a step back, you allow him a chance to breathe. Just barely noticing the twitch of his arm, ready to pull you close to him again.

“Okay, fine.” Joon's saying with a roll of his eyes, not the annoyed one that you've grown used to. It's playful, cute paired with the smile on his lips. “I like...” Large hand reaches out, landing firmly on your hip, effectively catching you off guard but he doesn't even give you a second to react before he's twisting your back toward him.

A shiver dancing down your spine as the tips of his fingers gently trace the link in the middle of your back. Actually having to bite down on your lip to keep from any noises slipping out in response to his light touch. “That. It looks sexy,”

Now you know how he feels when you tease him. Breathless and flustered all because he touched your back!? Come on, it was about time you got your shit together. Turning in his grasp, your features morph feigning confusion. “You like backs?”

“No! Not just backs. I Mean the dip... and if there's dimples back there. That's always a plus,” He says with a shrug, but you know exactly what he's doing. It was your game, basically invented it.

But judging from the flutter in your chest, he was better at it. “I have dimples back there,” It sounds dumb to your ears, like 'duh, he knows that stupid.. that's why he said it,' but you can't think of anything else to say. Thoughts clouded with how good being touched by him felt and coming up with ways to get more of that.

And he's moving as if he's read your mind, arm wrapping around your waist. Pulling your body to him with this newfound boldness that has a shocked gasp falling from your lips. “I know you do,” His voice is so deep and so sexy, only loud enough for the two of you to hear. You could spend hours just listening to him talk, no doubt. God, you needed to get it together.

“Oh, yeah? You've been sneaking peaks?”

He nods. Like, doesn't even bother to try and hide behind some half-assed explanation why he might've noticed, just owns it. He's so hot. “I'm very observant,” His words have you wondering what else he's noticed about you. How much time did he spend just 'observing', as he liked to call it.

You could figure that out later, there were much more pressing matters at hand right now. Kissing him. Through with the back and forth, you needed to feel his lips against yours. The fragmented memory of the first and only time was quickly fading, you needed something fresh.

With your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, you lean into him. Chin tilted up and eyes slowly falling closed, you're just inches from his mouth when that deep voice of his is breaking through. “Are you gonna kiss me?”

“Wow, you are observant,” Breathing out a laugh, you're nodding eyes lifting to find his. He even looked good from this close. “Wait.” His quick movements startle you, a not so cute squeal filling the night air as he bends to lift you, effortlessly wrapping your legs around his waist.

You're both laughing, like side aching chuckles. And you're certain you've never seen him like this before. Eyes forming crescent moons as loud snickers fall from his grinning lips. He's pretty. You're so dazed by that simple fact that you don't notice the way his laughter has died down into soft breaths.

Not until silence is falling over both of you and he's leaning up to press his lips against yours. Large hand lifting to tangle in your hair as he kisses you.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 23:29

And he doesn't stop kissing you. Not on the train home where you sit on his lap and he swallows every last one of your whines. Not on the walk to your place where he keeps his arm around your shoulder, occasionally leaning down to press kisses against your cheeks. Even stood at your doorstep, you're still like teenagers who just discovered making out.

“Do you want to come up?” You're murmuring against his lips, sentences barely coherent through the push of your lips.

He's registering your words a few moments after you've said them, pulling back to reveal the worried expression on his features. Doesn't say anything, though. Like he's stuck between taking you up on your offer and whatever concern is plaguing his mind.

And then it's hitting you. “Hoseok's out with some girl. Just in case you're worried about that,” You don't miss the way his face relaxes, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Pulling a blase expression, moving into your space again. “Why would I be worried about that?”

Eyes rolling, you let out a laugh. “Oh, my mistake.” You mock, turning to unlock your front door. Joon is following steps behind you into the house, no sign of Hoseok in sight. Not like he'd really care, on Namjoon's part. Just give you an ear full about how your actions would affect the company.

So, you're glad he's out. In no mood to hear any of that tonight. “Do you want a glass of wine?” Namjoon is following you into the kitchen, nodding along to your words.

He just can't seem to take his eyes off you. Followed your movements from the pantry to the cabinets all the way to the island where you poured alcohol into glasses for the two of you. Watched the way your lips tickled the neck of the bottle, sucking up the droplets that had spilled, dark eyes finding his the moment you're pulling back.

Daring him. To do something. Anything. Joon knew he needed to be bold. Impulsive. Throw caution to the wind and deal with the consequences later. It's how you got what you wanted all the time and right now, he wanted you.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he's rounding the island. Closing the space between the two of you. Hand cupping the side of your face as he wraps an arm around your waist. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, rhythmically. “I don't want wine,” Your heart hammers in your chest.

“What do you want?” You ask, although, you already know the answer.

He takes to showing you rather than telling you, using the grip he holds around your waist to lift your body onto the counter. Stepping into the space between your legs before he's covering your mouth with his.

This kiss is much different from the others, no longer testing the waters. There's determination behind each movement of his lips. Both hands gripping your waist, pulling your body forward until his hips are pressed to yours. His tongue slips past his soft lips to graze your bottom lip. And you're opening up for him without a moment of hesitation, fingers tangling in his messy locks, and pulling – a low groan emerging from the back of his throat.

He's pushing his body flush against yours, hips lifting rightly and you feel the twitch of his cock through his sweats. Sweet moans fall from your lips with every roll of his hips, deliberately pushing down desperate to feel more of him. Your senses are filled with him. The taste of his tongue, the sweet smell of his cologne, how good it feels to have him pressed up against you.

Strong hands roam around your body, gripping the fabric of your skirt tight enough to have it inching up the smooth skin of your thighs. Gently cupping the back of your neck to hold your head steady as he licks into your mouth. He can't seem to make up his mind, greedily wanting to touch all of you at once.

You're meeting everyone of his upward thrusts with a downward roll of your hips, moans growing louder between the two of you with each brush of your most sensitive parts. And you want more. Legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, you needed more.

“Fuck, princess.” He's gasping out, not leaving a moment to spare for you to marvel at the pet name that fell from his lips so easily. His mouth makes steady work on your neck, suck red blotches into your skin as the palm of his hand moves down the front of your body. Sneaking underneath the hem of your skirt, your body jolts when he's pressing the tips of his fingers to your slit through the soft fabric of your panties.

Pretty moans fill the room as he teases you, fingers tight in his hair. Heady becoming heavy for your shoulders as the pleasure he's ensuing washes over you. “Namjoon,” You're gasping, hips bucking up when he's pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit. Above the cotton, but each stroke has electricity cruising through your veins.

He chuckles as your whines become more insistent, hips following the movement of his fingers. “That feel good?” Head bobbing frantically, your legs spread wider for him. So sure, you're soaked all the way through from the way he's palming roughly at your panties. He's confirming your thoughts with a groan and a breathy, “You're so fucking wet,”

“Please, Joon. More.” Panting as your hips lift up toward him. He's grinning wide, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of your neck before he's nudging your panties out of the way. “So greedy,” He teases, at the same time his fingers find your clit. He's pressing lazy circles into the sensitive nub, taking his time despite the needy roll of your hips. “Tell me what you want,” Dark eyes travel up the length of your body to your face, you don't even bother to mask the moan that slips at the sight.

An experimental finger teases your entrance, sneaking in past the first knuckle before quickly pulling out and repeating the same action. If it wasn't for the solid stiffness pressed against your thigh, you'd guess that he was torturing you for the hell of it. But judging from the steady rut of his hips, he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

You couldn't wait any longer, though. This moment has plagued your thoughts since the first time you were meeting him. What it would be like to be with him like this. Have him fuck you. You'd surely die if it wasn't now. “Fuck me,” The words come out more whiny than you originally intended but, hey. “Please, Namjoon.”

“Soon, princess.” He promises, sinking his middle finger into your tightness. Eyes flickering between your bodies so he can watch the way the single-digit disappears within your walls. So fascinated with the movement of his own fingers and egged on with your pretty moans, he's quickly pushing another finger in.

Namjoon's mouth finds yours, swallowing every last one of your hushed moans as he fucks into you. Scissoring you open with his long fingers, free hand tugging at the bottom of your top until it's around your waist, tits spilling out. He's groaning against your lips as his palm cups you from underneath, thumb lifting to brush against your nipple.

His head is lowering until he's able to latch his lips around the hardening bud. His sharp teeth graze over it slightly, gentle tongue washing over the slight pinch of his bites. You're whimpering at the feeling of his thumb pressing into your clit, back falling against the cool countertop as your hips move in tandem with his fingers.

It's not long before he's nudging a third finger past your walls, lips moving to mouth on the other side. Thumb moving expertly over your clit while his fingers provide such a delicious stretch, you're squirming beneath him. Searching for something to grip onto as the pressure begins to build in the pit of your stomach.

You take to tugging his hair, pushing his face against your chest as your back arches off of the counter. Wanton moans filling the room, you're being so loud but you can't find the strength to quiet down. Not while he's making you feel this good. And then all at once, he's pushing in deeper, fingers curling and brushing against that rough patch of skin hidden deep inside of you.

“Oh, fuck! Don't stop, don't stop.” You're chanting over and over, hips rocking into his palm and Joon has no plans of stopping. Not when you sound like that, each whine and whimper shooting straight to his cock. He feels the way your walls flutter around his fingers and he's quickly lifting his head to watch your face.

There's a sheen layer of sweat on your forehead. Eyes rolled back as your lashes flutter, lips slightly pursed. Jaw falling slack, a breathless gasp slipping at the same time he feels a gush of wetness surrounding his fingers. Incoherent mumbles of thanks fall from your lips as your body shakes. He keeps his fingers buried inside of you, thrusting slowly until your words are dying down to soft breaths.

Opting to give you the time you may need to regain your composure... which only lasts a few seconds before you're sitting up. Arms and legs pulling him toward you. “Fuck, that was so good.” You say through a laugh, mouth finding his in a sloppy kiss as you work to pull his sweatshirt from his body.

Joon follows your lead, working on tugging his sweats out of the way. Your soft hand meets his, gently pushing it out of the way and dipping into the front of his boxers. Palm closing around his thick shaft and your eyes are going wide, fingers not being able to meet around the base.

“Holy, fuck...” Your hand drags over his length, more so measuring him than anything. Excitement igniting in your chest the longer it takes for your hand to meet the tip. Which is leaking with precum at this point, you feel it when your palm finally covers the tip and then use it to make moving your hand back down easier.

His hips follow the movement of your hand, attempting to fuck into the opening your palm created. Spaced out as the pleasure slowly clouds his mind. He looked so good. Chest and stomach flexing as he moves, shining underneath the dull kitchen lights. Brows furrowed and jaw clenched, making dimples appear at the sides of his mouth.

Your free hand slides down the front of his body until the tips of your fingers are brushing against his balls. Massaging them underneath the slight pressure while your wrist twists over his cock. “Yn, baby. Wait... fuck,” His hips are stuttering to a stop, hand reaching down to still the movement of your palm.

“I won't last,” A soft pink dusts his cheeks as he looks up at you, eyes glossed over and barely focused. He's letting out a breathless laugh before he's leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I wanna fuck you first,”

The admission is waking up something entirely different inside you. Something you can't easily place and are in no mood to decipher. Instead, you grin, returning the kiss to his lips before grinning. “Fuck me, please.”

That's all he needs to hear before he's taking a step back from you, not giving you a moment to feel his absence before he's sliding you from the counter. Hands on your hips to turn your back to him, his large hand resting on the middle of your back. “Bend over,” Voice deep in your ear, you'd very much walk off the edge of a cliff if he was asking you like that.

You bend forward without any protest, the cool granite pressing against your exposed nipples. Joon holds a hand just above your ass, the other wrapped around the base of his cock – guiding himself toward your aching core. His thick head nudges against your tight hole and you both gasp as you swallow him in.

He takes his time, allowing you to feel every inch as he slips in. And you don't miss the way his thumb has moved to rest in the indent just above the swell of your ass. Pulling your body toward him with his grip. His huffed breath tickling your back the moment he's bottoming out.

Palms formed fists beside you, concentrating on your breathing as you get used to the feeling of being stretched this way. Slowly, he's pulling out until the head is catching at your entrance then he's pushing his way back in, your body sliding up on the counter with the movement. The stuttered movement of his hips slowly shifts into a steady rhythm that has a string of moans falling from your lips.

Strong, bruising thrusts into your backside paired with the gruff groans that escape his throat. He's so deep, the tip of his cock nudging against your g-spot with each thrusts forward. “Fuck, look how perfectly you take my cock, baby.” He groans, eyes glued to the way your lips are wrapped around him.

All you can muster back in response is a weak whine, a garbled cry of big he was... or how good he feels. Mind nothing but mush at this point, the overwhelming pleasure from the way he was fucking, softening your brain. Either way, he takes the incoherent noises as a compliment, speeding up the snap of his hips.

You all about lose it when he's reaching down to grip your hair, lifting your body onto his, keeping a steady movement of his hips as he reaches around you to find your clit. Rolling it between his knuckles until he's feeling that familiar squeeze around his shaft. Soaking up every whimper and every cry as he brings you closer and closer to release.

“You gonna cum again for me, baby?” Gasping out, your head bobs up and down, back arching in hopes to steal more than what he was willing to give you. “Please, make me cum.” He can feel the way your walls flutter around him, the whine in your voice. And since he's inclined to give you whatever you want, Joon's angling his hips in a way that he knows will make you cum.

And it's not long before the pressure is snapping in the pit of your stomach, loud cries filling the room as your hips lift into a shake. Walls clenched so tight around his cock, it's enough to nudge him over the edge. He fucks into you with great fervor, leaning your body back onto the counter as his hips snap against yours.

Thrusts becoming sloppy and untimed as he feels himself falling apart, an odd mixture of curses and your name falling from his lips as he feels his body tense. He's pulling out as a hurried afterthought, hand acting as a lame substitute for your wet core as he strokes himself to completion. Spilling onto your back with a strained groan.

And then the kitchen goes silent, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths and the hum of the fridge filling the room. Neither of you says anything, both trying to come back to your senses. A few moments pass before he's hearing the soft sound of your giggle, body rising off your stomach to turn and face him. He looks so dazed and fucked out, cheeks flushed and eyes blown. Hair a mess and breath ragged. He looked so hot.

A hand finds the back of his neck, fingers tangling into the soft hair there. Joon's grinning when his eyes find yours, an arm wrapping around your waist. Pulling you closer, because it never felt like you were close enough. “We just fucked,” You state the obvious, can't find it in yourself not to.

It was nice. You liked it. You liked him. Everything about him, you just found yourself liking. His laugh. His smile. How easily he was annoyed. The cute dimples. The sound of his voice. You liked him.

“Yeah, we did.” He's replying, a little breathless but he still manages to lean down to capture your lips with his. A short kiss that has you leaning up, silently asking for me. He denies you with a cute shake of his head. “Let's go upstairs. I wanna go down on you,” Okay, bold Joon was something you were definitely going to have to get used to.

He's twirling you around when you don't move to lead him, large hand dropping to tap against your ass cheek, pulling a giggled squeal from your lips. “Ah!” You're laughing when he's reaching to do it again, instead taking hold of his hand. Fingers easily intertwining as you tug him behind you.

His back pressed to yours, cock growing hard against your backside as you lead him up the stairs and into your room. The sound of laughter only growing between the two of you.

Yeah, you liked him a lot.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 23:58

Your body is warm against his, back pressed to his chest. Soft moans filling the air as he holds you close, pushing into you, chasing yet another release. This time in your bed. With you in his arms and it feels different. It feels nice. It makes him wonder... what's next? If there's something more for him to hope for.

He wanted to be with you, to put it simply. Never would've imagined it'd be you, but now he can't imagine it being anyone else. But things just sometimes worked out that way. Namjoon wanted to be yours, but in turn, he wanted you to be his.

Somehow, he felt like that might be the tricky part of it all.

— daughter of the ceo of the biggest record label, it’s obvious she’d get whatever and whoever she wants. but what happens when she’s meeting the one person that refuses to play into her spoiled brat act?

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

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obae-me · 4 years

Text

The Demons Inside- Part 2

Part 1 (Lucifer) Part 3 (Levi)

Description: Mammon’s Part of the request “The brothers reacting to an MC crying suddenly in front of them and then trying to act as if nothing happened”

Words: 2201

Mammon groaned, sinking down deep into the chair. He slumped down so far, his face was nearly eye level with the low table. How long had it been now? Two hours? Four? An entire night? The lecture his older brother was torturing him with was worse than being strung up on the ceiling. All of this over some dumb assignments.

“Mammon, are you listening to me?” The deep grumble of Lucifer’s voice snapped him back up in place. The demon of pride continued briskly pacing back and forth, gesturing towards the strewn papers on his desk. Even just a flickering glance over the parchment would reveal how poorly they were done. Red marks, endless corrections, poor letter grades. Oh how he hated the study. Lucifer only ever brought him here of his own volition when he wanted to chew Mammon out in private. When his brother was angry with him, he wasn’t afraid to let the entire household and Devildom know it, but when he was disappointed? He was forced to have one on one time, listening to Lucifer scold him with something darker than anger in his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve been listening to you prattle on for the past few hours now!” Mammon exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Lucifer’s eyelids lowered as he stopped pacing to look Mammon straight in the face. “Mammon, it’s only been twenty minutes.” With a wave of his hand, he brushed that irk aside, slightly impressed he used the word ‘prattle’. “Diavolo addressed me directly to confront you about this, Mammon. Do you understand the position you’re putting me in, the situation you’re putting yourself in?” The words were coming out of Lucifer’s mouth through gritted teeth. With one of his gloved hands, he plucked up a single assignment out of the many, showing it to his brother as if he didn’t already know what a failure it was. “Why can’t you just be like your brothers and get things done?”

How many times had they been through this now? How many times would they go through this same song and dance as if Lucifer didn’t already know the answer. Why him? Of all his siblings, why him? He severely doubted his older brother dragged his brothers down to have an in depth talk about their sins. He knew none of them were as severely punished as he ever was.

“Because I don’t want to! Why always me, eh? When was the last time you had Beel in here to talk about his eating habits?” He had almost had enough, he was out of his seat, hand on one hip, his teeth almost grinding together out of anger. Another push and he wouldn’t be able to control his form. The aura around him was already starting to thicken, the air getting hotter.

“Diavolo doesn’t approach me directly about Beel’s habits, but he ordered me to talk to you!” Lucifer closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly, his voice calmer. “Sometimes we do things we don’t want to do.” Lucifer normally wouldn’t have hesitated to always be towering above his brother. Typically, at this point, his wings would’ve been unfurled, his eyes glowing, his form large and intimidating. But for right now, he stayed in his normal image, the bags of exhaustion and worry unable to hide themselves under Lucifer’s eyes. The firstborn pressed both of his palms on the surface of his desk as he leaned forward. “I know it’s harder on you than the others. I know how hard you fight against your sin, but I know you have the strength to-”

“Ah, don’t bring up that sorry line again, I’ve heard it enough.” Mammon looked his brother in the eyes before turning his back on him. “What’s the point? I’m outta here.” Mammon ran a hand through his hair to clear his vision. He had half a mind to keep his vision blurred with them, it was preferable to seeing his brother like this. It was better when he was angry. He hated it when it was...too real, too personal.

Mammon turned to leave, and instead of Lucifer dragging him back to save his own pride, he only called out to him one more time, haughty plopping down in his chair. “I know you’re capable of it, Mammon. Get it done. You’re...dismissed.”

“Tch.”

* * *

His skin still prickled with irritation, but he thought he had a plan that would best suit everyone. He knocked on the door, adjusting the many books and papers under his arm to prevent him from losing his grip. He had that typical golden Grimm-making smile on his face when the entrance swung open. The rush of air from within the bedroom flooded out the door, and he felt his body calm down with the scent and sight of MC.

“Mammon?” MC rubbed their eyes, they hadn’t quite been to sleep yet, but it was very late in the night, and anytime now Lucifer would be doing his Light’s Out rounds. They were already in their pajamas, a pencil still lingering in their dominant hand.

“I have a favor to ask of you, MC,” Mammon started, assuring himself that this would bring about the best outcome. Lucifer would get what he wanted, he would get what he wanted, and MC would get whatever they wanted for their efforts. He pulled out the large stack of books and papers from the crook of his arm, presenting them to MC. Their eyes went wide in a bit of shock, and MC braced themselves for the question they already knew. “Can you do my homework for me? It’s not too much, just a few essays, reports, multi-question assignments. You do this for me, and I’ll--get this--pay you for the work, eh?”

“I-uh…” MC stuttered as Mammon practically shoved the books into their hands. He beamed at them, looking at them with hopeful pleading eyes. MC was always so nice, they never hesitated to extend a helping hand, and it was just what he needed. MC struggled to carry the books in their arms, maybe it had been more than he expected. “I…”

“I’ll help carry these to your desk, what do you say?” He didn’t give them much of a chance to say anything regardless. He plucked the books back up, heading into their room while MC still struggled with words. The desk MC was using was already a mess, covered in stacks of tomes, multiple notebooks, and a plenty of assignments, more than should be assigned to one person. He raised an eyebrow as he placed his own books alongside the rest. He went to question them. “Oi, MC, what’re-” He swiveled his head to glance back at the human.

They had their head down, hands covering their face as their shoulders shuddered. The hair on the back of Mammon’s neck immediately stood up on end, the heart in his chest felt like it sunk down to the floor. Without another word, he was at MC’s side. The room, for him, was almost moving around him in circles as he watched MC cry. He bent his knees and squatted down slightly so he could try to look at MC’s bowed face. He grabbed them by the shoulders, thumbs rubbing their skin in small circles.

“Hey, hey, MC...listen you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It was a joke! Yeah, a joke!” He forced out a laugh. MC didn’t laugh with him. Emotional walls he kept surrounding were cracking. Tonight had not been his night. He quickly left MC, taking heavy but quick steps back to their desk. Stupid, he was stupid. He grabbed his books back, talking to MC while he gathered his work. “So, I’ll-uh-just take these back, and-”

“No, wait.” He felt a hand touch his arm. MC tugged at the fabric of his sleeve. They were no longer crying, and for just a moment, Mammon wondered if he imagined the whole thing. Their eyes were a bit puffy, but already they had their usual smiles plastered over their lips. They were acting like nothing had happened. “I’ll do it. I’ll do your work.” They touched his hand and guided the stack back to the hard and cluttered surface. The gentle gesture caused his cheeks to go a bit red. Their actions were leaving him winded. Were they upset or not?

“I mean, if you want to.” With those words, Mammon saw MC’s lip twitch. As an avid and talented gambler, there was one form of body language that he was well acquainted with. Tells. Little physical involuntary forms of a lie. His eyes narrowed, and he took the time to actually get a closer look at all the work MC had. Assignments with MC’s handwriting but labeled with different names, multiple copies of the same book, even tasks from classes MC wasn’t even enrolled in. Nerves in his body jolted. His legs almost felt like shaking, what was he doing? Was he just another scummy demon dumping their work on a human? His human. What had he done?

“I don’t mind, Mammon.” MC placed his stuff to the side, alongside all the other works MC had taken upon them. They adjusted a pile of parchment, the tip of their finger fiddling with one of the corners. Their somber look of recognition that someone else would be taking credit for their work. “If it makes you happy, I’ll do it.” He watched the muscles in their throat strain to say the words. They didn’t want to. They didn’t want to do this any more than he did, and they were doing three times the work.

“And that’s what you want, huh? To do other people’s duties?” He found himself growling. MC looked up at him with mild shock. “So what happened, eh? Did they threaten you? Trick you?” He wanted to tear up everything on that desk, but he clenched his jaw and waited.

MC shook their head slowly, their hair falling in front of tired eyes. “Nothing like that, they just asked. Just like you did.”

Those words stabbed through him like a dull knife. He wanted to scream but the air in his lungs quickly went absent. He was finding it hard to breathe. “And you said yes? Why?” He took a few steps closer to them. He could feel their body heat, hear their ragged breaths.

MC squirmed in place, their lip betraying them. They were going to cry again. “Well...just because.” For some reason the lecture he had been privy to earlier reverberated around in his brain. MC’s gaze flickered around the room, avoiding him. He envisioned Lucifer and himself, the tough love his brother had shown him. He scoffed and shut his eyes as he silently thanked his brother for all that he taught him.

He gently took MC’s face in both of his hands and forced them to look at him. “Do you want to do it?” He knew the answer already, he just had to keep working on chipping away their stubborn wall. They continued to stammer, giving vague answers that avoided being a direct yes or no. “Do. You. Want. It?” He enunciated every word, wiping away a single tear that strolled down MC’s face. He was almost there. They grabbed his wrists, trying to break free, but Mammon wouldn’t let them go. He could hear their chest puff out suffocated sobs.

He watched their shields crumble down in front of him. MC leaned into his touch, tears unable to be held back any longer. “No...I don’t. I don’t want to do it anymore.” They allowed him to pull them close, and he let out a brisk sigh.

“You’re too selfless for your own good. It’s running ya ragged.” He fiddled with a strand of hair on the nape of their neck. “Can’t you be a little greedy?” They didn’t respond, they just kept on crying. He held onto them tighter. He tisked. “Listen, I’ve got a special one-of-a-kind deal for you.” He felt them start to calm down, slowly but surely. “Take some of my greed for yourself, eh? Greed isn’t always about money or power. Sometimes it’s about doing what you want, solely for the fact that you want it.” Their head swiveled up just enough so he could see their eyes. He almost choked up just looking at them. He cleared his throat. “You clearly don’t have a selfish bone in your body, so I’ll just have to do it for you. We’re tearing up those assignments. And…” He took a deep breath in. “Because I’m so great, this once-in-a-lifetime offer comes with me, Mammon, doing your work for you. IF-” He dried their eyes, thankful their fit had come to a close. His hand lingered on their skin. “You promise to do something for yourself in exchange.”

MC weakly agreed, and Mammon piled up MC’s work on top of his own to take to his room. He was unaware of the dark shadow lingering in the doorway that stepped away like a whisper. Striding away with a proud smile on their face.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon x reader

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theoreticslut · 4 years

Text

The Truth that You Deny // Part 2

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley

word count: 2, 442

warnings: drinking?? nothing much more than that

A/N: here’s part 2!! I’m so glad you guys are liking this so far :) I haven’t written in a while so it makes me so happy to see people still like it a bit. anyways, i still have a few more parts to this so let me know if you’re liking it and if you’d like to be added to a taglist for it.

taglist - @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai

you can find part 1 here!

The next couple weeks are more than awkward between the three of you and everyone is starting to pick up on it, but none of them dare ask anything in fear it’ll make whatever is going on worse.

Truthfully, the twins were still acting like themselves around everyone - they were laughing and joking and just as vibrant as they had been before - but it was how silent you had become that created the tension amongst everyone. It was like you to be quieter than the rest of your group of friends, but you had never been as disconnected from the group as you have been lately.

Granted, you were stuck inside your own head analyzing your thoughts and emotions towards the twins and trying to figure out if you did like them or not. Deep down you know the answer, but you don’t want to admit it to yourself yet because once you do that unleashes a whole new set of problems.

“Y/n!” Lee nearly shouts, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“What, Lee?!” You snap a bit, not knowing why he’s raised his voice to you.

“Have you heard anything we just said?” He asks, the rest of your friends looking at you.

You stare back at him and then look around the group for any kind of clue yet you find none.

“N-no. I guess not.” You sigh.

“I’m sorry. What were you guys talking about?” You ask, glancing over everyone but settling your attention on Stephanie.

“There’s a party tonight and we wanted to check and see what everyone thought about it.” Fred says as you turn your attention towards him.

“What about it?” You ask, not sure what they’re looking for.

“Like if you wanted to go? If so, when you wanted to go, et cetra”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’d like to go. Who’s throwing it?”

“Ravenclaws.”

“Okay. Uh, yeah. I’ll be there.” You say, giving a small smile to try to give the illusion that you’re totally not lost inside your own head.

He nods and looks back around the group to get everyone’s final opinion.

~.~

“Hey, beautiful. How are you doing?” Steph asks as she walks into your dorm.

“Fine. I’m just trying to get ready for the party. What do you think of that dress on the bed there?”

“The white one?”

“Yeah. Do you think it’ll be too much?”

“I don’t think so. If it is then at least you know you’re the best dressed, yeah?”

“I guess so.” You chuckle as you finish applying your lashes.

“Look, y/n, I don’t know if this is really the cause of why you’ve been acting so disconnected lately....but I’m sorry for pushing you about liking Fred and George. I...It’s none of my business and I should have stayed out of it.” Steph apologizes as she sits down on your bed, wringing her hands together.

“No, you were right. I mean you shouldn’t have pushed it so hard, but I...well, I do like them. I didn’t want to admit it to myself because it just makes everything more difficult, but you were right.” You sigh, walking over to sit next to her.

“I’m still sorry. It was none of my business, but what are you going to do now that you admitted it?”

You sit there for a minute thinking about it before you reply.

“Get plastered tonight and hopefully forget about all of it. You?”

“Maybe not get plastered, but get drunk and just have fun.” She laughs.

~.~

“You ready? Everyone else is already inside.” Steph asks as you both click your way to the ravenclaw house entrance.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You smile as she gives the password to enter.

Once you do, you’re immediately encompassed by the sound of loud music and overlapping chatter broken apart by a few shouts from one person to another across the room. Besides the sheer volume of the room, you’re also hit by the smell of sweaty bodies, much too strong perfumes and cologne that have muddled together into one scent, and various different alcohols.

“Girl! Ugh, You look amazing.” Some 5th year hufflepuff girl compliments as you start to make your way through the room in search of the alcohol.

“Thanks. You too, beautiful!” You smile, admiring her pale yellow velvet bodycon she’s wearing with nude/clear wedges.

“Where can I find the alcohol?” You ask and nod as she points off into the room.

~.~

After a handful of shots taken with a few people hanging around the alcohol table, you find yourself dancing carefree. You honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve just let yourself go and have fun without worrying about the consequences or something else that you should be doing. You’re having an absolute banging time and are thoroughly enjoying yourself for once, which is being noticed by two of your friends across the room.

“Y/n seems to be having a lot of fun tonight.” George points out to his brother as they hang out on the outskirts of a crowd, Fred dancing along with them.

“Yeah, it does. It’s nice to see. It’s not like her to be so down like she has been.” Fred replies.

“I know. I’ve been wondering what’s on her mind. You don’t think we upset her do you?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. We pushed her, but I think whatever it was she’s been thinking about had been on her mind long before that.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right. I’m just glad to see she’s finally getting out of it.” George trails off as Fred nods in agreement, still dancing.

“She looks real nice tonight.” George points out.

“Yeah. She does.” Fred smiles, watching you as you dance with some 4th year ravenclaws and some of their friends both in their year from other houses as well as higher years they’ve met through older ravenclaw friends.

Neither of them could help but look you up and down multiple times throughout the night. You wore a bright white bodycon dress that falls just above the middle of your thighs. That alone is sexy enough, but you had to go even further in getting a dress that had a bit of a slit on the right side that was outlined with a string of crystals that hang over your thigh. Throughout the night, anyone could have found both Fred and George seeming to stare at your thighs, but really they were just in awe with the way the light caught the crystals as you moved. On top of that you wore nude heels that seemed to elongate your already gorgeous legs. Not to mention your makeup. You didn’t wear it often, but in the name of Merlin, you sure knew how to.

As the night progresses, you continue drinking anything and everything you can find that tastes decent enough. As you told Steph, you wanted to forget everything you’ve been thinking about for the last two weeks, and you were almost there.

Way too many drinks ago you found yourself starting to slur, yet you kept on drinking. You’ve started to get wobbly on your feet yet you’ve continued drinking. You’re honestly not sure if you even remember your name or where you are anymore, yet you’re stumbling your way to the alcohol table to get yet another drink.

“Having fun?” You hear someone ask.

You try to turn toward them, but the problem is you’re not quite sure which direction their voice came from.

Eventually you find two...wait four...nope, two red heads behind you.

“Y/n, are you having fun?” The other one asks and you nod even though their words have yet to fully register in your head.

“Y-yeah.” You hiccup. “Lots.”

“What in merlins name? Y/n...are you drunk?” Fred asks, watching as you sway in your spot which he’s positive you aren’t purposely doing.

“Drunk? Not even cl-ose.”

“For merlin’s sake, y/n.” George frowns, catching you as you start to lean too far forward.

“I don’t think we should let her drink anymore, Fred.” George says, taking your cup from you and setting it on the table behind you guys.

“No. No, we shouldn’t. In fact we should probably get her back to her dorm.”

“And how do you plan on doing that without getting caught? I don’t think y/n here is going to be very quiet.” George says as you’re rambling to yourself about one of the songs that just played.

“Uhm, I don’t know? Maybe we could cast muffliato around us?”

“It’s worth a shot.” George says as he picks you up bridal style instead of trying to guide you through the halls.

“Hey! I can walk myself.” You say, awfully slurred, as you try to work your way out of his arms.

He doesn’t budge, counteracting each of your movements and keeping you in his grip. Watching you try to stand still just now proves to him that there is no way to get you back to the gryffindor common room with you walking.

“Hey, you’re strong.” You say in regards to him fighting you and still holding you. “I don’t like it.”

George chuckles and shakes his head at you. You’ve never been drunk around them before, and not surprisingly they find it quite adorable. Sure you guys have had drinks together before, but you’ve never gotten drunk drunk.

“Alright, are you ready to go?” Fred asks having cast the spell.

“As ready as we can be.”

“Okay, well then let’s head out. Here’s hoping the charm works.”

“Your charm works.” You giggle as you wink at him.

He chuckles and shakes his head. Never in a million years did he expect y/n y/l/n to be a flirty drunk.

“Well, I know. Thank you.” Fred smiles, joking around.

“Welcome” you hiccup, following it with a burst of giggles.

“I don’t think drunk y/n knows how to be quiet.” George laughs. it’s such a contrast to your normal personality that he can’t help but laugh.

Normally you were pretty quiet. You knew how to speak up when needed, and were often quick to, but you were quiet the majority of the time. That’s not saying that you were insecure or scared, but that you knew how to listen. It’s impossible to count the amount of times the twins have come to you with one problem or another for you to listen and help them figure out a solution. They adored you for it and that’s part of the reason you three became such close friends. You were a voice of reason to their chaotic energies and in turn they were just the right amount of wild to get you out of your comfort zone.

The twins knew pretty early on into your friendship that you were more to them than just some casual friend. Hence why you’ve been over to the burrow at least twice a year since your second year of school. They loved having you around and when you weren’t, they could feel that something was missing.

They both loved you, even though neither of them were quite aware of that fact.

“We’re almost there.” Fred whispers. George nods, adjusting the way you’ve settled into his arms.

Even though you’re beyond drunk, George can’t help but admire the way you’ve curled into him. You’ve somehow twisted just enough that you’re facing him, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Okay, we’re here.” Fred says.

“Where? Are we at another party?” You ask, really wanting to get another drink.

Fred whispers the password to the portrait so they can get inside and, hopefully, up to her dorm.

“Party?” You ask, frowning as you enter your common room to find complete silence.

“No more parties, unless you wanna have a slumber party. Alright?” Fred tells you as him and George make their way up to your room.

“Is there alcohol?” You ask, stumbling as George finally sets you down inside your room.

“Not anymore. C’mon let’s get you to your bed.” George says, leading you towards your bed.

“But I need another drink. Wanna forget.” You mumble as you fall into your bed.

Both the boys stop, looking at each other confused before looking back at you.

“Forget? What do you wanna forget, love?” Fred asks as he starts taking off your one shoe as George works on the other.

“Thoughts.” You yawn, trying to curl up onto your side but George is still working on getting your shoe off so he keeps you from turning.

“What kind of thoughts?” George asks, finally getting the buckle part undone so he can slide off your shoe.

“Boys I like.” You mumble, finally able to curl up on your side.

Even though you’d deny it if directly asked, you were beyond tired and the twins knew it. If they ever wanted to figure out who you had gone so quiet over, they’d have to keep you talking.

“Can you tell us about them?” Fred asks, looking over at you as you shiver a bit.

It’s honestly no wonder given it’s nearing the middle of winter and you were wearing this. Neither of the twins could say that you didn’t look stunning, but it really wasn’t that hard to believe that you’d be cold. Nonetheless, Fred helps you to get under the covers.

“Hmm?”

“Can you tell us about the guys you like? They’ve got to be mighty special if you go silent over them for a whole two weeks.”

You smile as you think about them, not realizing that they’re the ones with you right now.

“They’re my best friends.” You mumble, smiling dreamily as you’re half asleep.

Fred looks over to George who is looking over at him. Both had the same thought run through their head - us?!

“They’re funny....and brilliant....absolutely adorable....they’re kind.” You continue mumbling as both of the boys watch you, a warmth igniting in their chest. While they couldn’t place exactly what the sensation was, it hadn’t been the first time they’ve felt it when thinking about you.

“Yeah?” George asks, smiling happily at you.

“Yeah,” You hum. “I love when they’re around and just thinking about them makes me happy, but they’re my best friends....and I don’t want to screw anything up between us, but I think I really love them.”

“You do, hmm?” Fred asks, not able to help a smug smirk play on his lips even though this admission overjoys him.

“She’s talking about us, isn’t she Fred?” George asks, smiling at the thought.

“Yeah, George. I believe she is,” he smiles, looking over your sleeping form. “She won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george #fred weasley imagine #george wealsey imagine #Fred and George weasley x reader #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fluff #part 2

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

Title: threads spun

Summary: In another life, Obi-Wan Kenobi would have fought plenty of other Jedi Masters for the right to train little Luke Skywalker. In this one, Luke is 19 and just lost his family when Obi-Wan teaches him how to do a proper Padawan braid.

AN: I’M BACK FROM NANO WITH NEW FANFICS.

The boy just lost his whole world, and he clings to Obi-Wan's robes with shaky hands. His eyes are bright blue, his hair a fair gold color, and for just one short moment, Obi-Wan isn't sure whether the child in front of him is nine or nineteen, whether his name is Anakin or Luke.

It is the reason he gave Luke to his family in the end, even when the Force and all his selfish desires were screaming at him not to. The newborn, the son of his Padawan, the child that was Luke Skywalker, had deserved better than a broken man who didn't even know who he was without a thousand lights illuminating him. A man who'd risk forgetting that he was not holding the child he had raised, the child he had left to burn.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and the moment passes.

He doesn't ask the boy if he's alright because it is obvious that Luke is not and it would be cruel to demand an honest answer. Luke can't be standing straight after he experienced such tremendous loss for the first time, nobody would, and Obi-Wan is saddened that he can't give Luke the time to grieve.

Despite all this pain, Obi-Wan still dares to hope for light and life.

He is relieved to see that Luke doesn't take all the hurt and anger to hide it within himself. Obi-Wan has never taught Luke a single lesson about Jedi philosophy, the way they grieve and handle all the emotions that are too large for this world, those that are capable of tearing the galaxy apart. And yet Luke controls his feelings exactly as a temple-raised youngling would, not pushing them aside or letting them overtake him. He takes timed breaths, centers himself on the world surrounding him and not on his anxieties. Pride fills Obi-Wan's heart as he watches peace and balance return to Luke's mind.

In another life, Obi-Wan would have fought plenty of other Jedi Masters for the right to train him.

He can almost hear his family laugh at him, playful jabs about him being so eager to train yet another Skywalker and see what colors they could draw nebulas in. It isn't Obi-Wan's fault; he has always loved a challenge, and Luke, racing in Beggar's Canyon at an age no boy should step into that death trap, would have certainly been a joy to teach and guide.

He could have taught him so much, so much he still needs to teach him, but the clock is ticking and time has always been a cruel mistress. Not purposefully, she wouldn't dare, but she is absolute and eternal, and like death, she takes.

Obi-Wan silently wonders how much time he has left. He knows exactly where they are heading and despite the legends he has wrapped around himself in his exile, he's neither crazy nor a fool. They are attempting to pull off a plan that they wouldn't even have dared to suggest during the Clone Wars, not with so many untrained people. He's been called reckless plenty of times, his ability to talk himself out of seeming like an adrenaline junkie being his only saving grace. Still, Obi-Wan is acutely aware of the danger they are in.

But they have no other choice. They may have the Death Star plans in their hands – and wasn't it utterly predictable that it would be Artoo to carry the plans for a weapon of mass destruction? – but Leia can't stay in the Empire's hands.

Luke and she were so strong in the Force at their birth already. While Obi-Wan is convinced that Bail must have taught Leia at least some shielding techniques, half-trained children can't withstand a Sith Lord for long. Should Vader or worse, Palpatine, learn what Leia could become capable of, they would have so much more to worry about in the future.

The Rebellion might as well be lost.

"You have grown into a fine young man, Luke," Obi-Wan tells Anakin's son instead.

"I have?" Luke echoes, curiosity coloring his voice, highlighting a cadence similar to Padmé's despite his heavy Outer Rim accent.

"I brought you to Tatooine," Obi-Wan tells him. The journey hadn't been an easy one. They had to change ships multiple times and every time somebody had mistaken Obi-Wan for Luke's father, he had wanted to stop and cry like the infant in his arms. "You were a very sweet baby."

"Oh." Luke falls silent again, but his hands have stopped shaking. In his dirty white robes, he reminds Obi-Wan just a bit of a messy Padawan. He wears Anakin's lightsaber well, even if he doesn't know how to execute even the simplest of lightsaber forms. Frankly speaking, it is a bit terrifying to see how quickly he picked up the weapon and had gotten comfortable with it. The Force curled around Luke's every movement, guiding him like a beloved teacher.

Luke will need a teacher if he is to face the darkness that would catch up to them soon.

Obi-Wan feels much older than he actually is. The fault lies partially with the harsh marks that Tatooine has left on his body, but also with the life he has led. He isn't sure if he can teach another student, no matter how much he wants to, but he has to try at least for Luke's sake. That is, if the boy truly intends to follow the path of the Jedi.

"Luke," Obi-Wan says seriously, thinking of the one who gives life, the name granted to such a young child, "Do you truly want to become a Jedi?"

"Yes." There is no hesitation in Luke's reply. "I want to follow my father's footsteps."

No, Obi-Wan wants to weep. You don't. You can't ask me to cut you down as well; I couldn't bear it.

"It is admirable to want to follow the path of someone you respect," Obi-wan starts carefully instead. He can't tell Luke what became of Anakin Skywalker. The child deserves better. "But I am asking about your own inclinations. The path of a Jedi is not an easy one, and you have to follow it for your own sake if you want to succeed."

Now Luke does hesitate. He looks down at his hands, curls them into fists and relaxes them again.

"Yes," Luke finally replied. "Yes, I want to be a Jedi."

"Then I'll hope you'll give me the honor of teaching you. I'd like to take you as my Padawan."

Obi-Wan had said these words over three decades ago to another lost blond boy, the language a little different, their surroundings certainly more peaceful than the ship of a smuggler. He tries to banish the image from his mind.

"Padawan," Luke repeats slowly. "What does it mean?"

You should know, Obi-Wan thinks. You should know what it means and be overjoyed and celebrate this day.

He can't hold it against this boy, not even against himself or, dare he think it, Anakin because choices had been made, but away from it all, Obi-Wan can only blame the Sith who ruined them, continues to hurt them.

"It means that I want you as my student, teach you all I know so that you may surpass me someday."

Bring us back to the light, rebuilt all that we lost. Obi-Wan is asking him for so much when just days ago it would have been enough for him to someday see Luke marry that boy he's been crushing on for years and live the rest of his days happily, far away from the war.

And now he dreams of home again, the rooms full of plants and droid parts, poetry collections, board games, and warmth so kind and all-compassing that no nightmares can haunt you.

"You'd really teach me?" Luke asks as if he'd be honored and the right to be taught not already something he possessed since his birth.

"Of course."

"I'd be honored to accept," Luke replies with a shy smile.

Obi-Wan returns his smile and reassuringly squeezes his shoulder once. Luke leans into the touch and so Obi-Wan lets his arm linger around the boy's shoulders as he continues to explain traditions long lost. "Traditionally, we would now braid your hair and put in the first bead."

"Braid my hair?"

Obi-wan nods and thinks of all the times his Master ran his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair, tugging at his braid and saying one thing or another he hadn't paid any attention to because he'd been too awestruck by the fact that he had a Master at all. "Yes, all Padawans of the Jedi Order have a braid. It shows your dedication to your studies and how serious you are about them. It means that you know that this is not an easy task or an easy path to take, but that you are willing to walk it anyway."

Luke thoughtfully looks at Obi-Wan, then he reaches up with his hand, putting a strand of hair behind his ear.

"My hair is not long enough to braid it properly," Luke mutters, dismayed.

He's pouting more than he is actually hurt by the thought. Nevertheless, if he lingers on it, he might ask more questions about what other chances life has denied him and because of it, Obi-Wan wants to distract him quickly.

The distraction comes at the price of remembrance, a fourteen-year-old Padawan clinging to what remained of his braid, burying his head in his Master's chest, and crying after enduring days of torment. Obi-Wan had fixed Anakin's hair then as well so he wouldn't have to deal with too many looks once they were back at the Temple. His braid had been short, but it had been there. For a moment, Obi-Wan tries to recall who had assigned that mission to them, whether Sidious had already sown his seeds of discord then.

He lets the moment go. "Don't worry, I can help you."

He had done plenty of braids during his as a Padawan and later as a Master. When the war had been going on, he had helped frenzied Padawans countless times with their braids.

There was an almost meditative process to the act of braiding and letting others braid your hair. It had soothed innumerous over the centuries and now it will once more calm another. Luke sits still when Obi-Wan begins to part the stray strands of hair on the left side of his head into three. Luke's hair really isn't all that long, but it is definitely more than enough to work with. Slowly and withs steady fingers, Obi-Wan braids another bond with his second Padawan. Luke is a kind child and this war will hurt him incredibly. Obi-Wan can only hope that what he will pass onto him will be enough to have him keep his path, to wander in the light even when the darkness reaches for him with the intent to consume.

Once Obi-Wan is finished with the braid, he reaches for his belt, takes an old leather cord from there, and wraps it around the tip of Luke's hair.

"And finished," Obi-Wan announces.

Luke, who had closed his eyes, opens them and immediately reaches for the hair, twirling it between his two fingers in a fashion reminiscent of Obi-Wan in his youth. He had only managed to get rid of that nervous habit after his won braid hat been cut. Whether Luke would act similar, Obi-Wan doesn't know, but the thought of seeing Luke ascend to the rank of Knight of the Order, no matter how small, splintered and broken it is right now, it makes his heart beat a bit quicker.

"How does it look?" Luke asks.

"As it is supposed to," Obi-Wan replies. "I believe Mr. Solo has a mirror in his fresher if you want to take a look."

Luke races off before Obi-Wan can say anymore. He returns a few minutes later, already with more color in his face than he had in the hours before.

"Thank you. Master." Luke tags on the honorific only belatedly, unsure whether it fits and it is all the convincing Obi-Wan could ever need.

"You are welcome, Padawan."

Obi-Wan Kenobi has a student once more and he will not fail him.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #Luke Skywalker #jedi #original trilogy #fanfic

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something-tofightfor · 4 years

Text

Seasons to Cycles / 4

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 10,760

Rating: M (Some language, mentions of sex and drug use)

Summary: Logan’s got an invitation for you - but is it what it seems? Is it real, or is he looking for something in particular? Later, both halves of his life come together in an unexpected - but not entirely unwanted - way.

Author’s Note: Here’s where things start to get very interesting. I hope this chapter answers some questions for you ... but it’s also going to raise new ones. Song lyrics come into play in this one, too, which is what I’ve been waiting for.

Enjoy. (Thank you for the feedback!)

ALSO.

A couple people have asked about Logan’s apartment and Juliet’s house, so here are the listings I’m using as reference: Logan’s High Rise

Juliet’s House

I had one for reader’s studio apartment, too, but apparently it’s not for rent anymore, so it’s not showing. Sorry!

From the 46th story of Two California Plaza, Logan looked out over the city. It always took him a day or two to get used to being back in the office after trips to the parks, and the abrupt end to the most recent trip had made it worse than usual. But I’m happy to be home. He leaned back in his chair, one arm bent and behind his head, and smiled. At least the weather’s good. He’d been surprised to return to his room at the Mesa and find multiple messages waiting from Ariella, one of them apologizing for the way that she’d acted before she’d left his place - but even more surprised to see a rambling message from you, sent in the middle of the week. She’s curious about the parks and the Hosts.

He’d called his fiancée back, for once ahead of her in time zones, and while the conversation had been fast, the woman on her way to meet with her parents, it hadn’t been unpleasant. But that’s probably because I haven’t looked into what she got up to in Amsterdam yet. Logan hadn’t called you back, though, and he hadn’t returned your text, either. But why?

Standing, he pushed away from his desk and began pacing in front of his window, one hand in his pocket and the fingers of the other running through his hair. I wanted to. He had. In fact, he’d thought of you a lot while in the park, his usual distractions occupying less and less of his mind as the days passed. He’d sought out Clementine, not having to look far once they’d arrived in Sweetwater, and spent the night with her before setting out with his business partners the following day. Logan had timed the arrival so that just as they were leaving, Hector and his bandits were arriving, and though that had given him something else to focus on, by the time the four of them had reached Las Mudas as a stopover on their way to Pariah, you were on Logan’s mind again, remaining there for the entirety of the remainder of the ride out to the hidden city.

The men and women in Pariah were more than willing to accommodate his requests, and the time they spent there was pleasant. Logan let loose and drank heavily, the sweet-smelling air perfumed by the spices sold by the street vendors wafting in through his open windows and keeping him awake long after his chosen partners had drifted off. Hasn’t always been that way. The first time, it was … I wore myself out.

Pariah was Logan’s favorite area in the park, because the overall tone suited him, but each time he returned to Westworld, he also remembered what it felt like to be appointed as one of the leaders of the Confederados, the men listening to him without question, following his orders even though they made little sense. Because it’s like it is out there. Just less...real. Even that train of thought led him back to you, though it didn’t happen until he’d read your message and was already back on his way to Los Angeles. Why am I thinkin’ about this?

He stopped moving, pulling his hand from his pocket and settling both on his hips, elbows bent. “You’re the boss, Logan. Act like it.” But he lowered his head, hair moving out of place and falling over one eye. “Shit.” He straightened up, eyes narrowed. Get it together. You have a meeting in an hour, and the rest of your week is … But instead of sitting back down at his desk to read through notes, a few minutes later, Logan was sitting beneath one of the permanent umbrellas on California Plaza, his phone in hand, and your number on the screen. He only hesitated for a few seconds before he called, wondering if he’d catch you on a break again, or you’d push him through to voicemail. After two rings, he got his answer.

“Logan, hi!” Your tone excited, you greeted him, and he felt a smile spreading over his lips and lifting his cheeks before he could stop it. “Did you have a good trip?” She sounds happy to hear from me.

“I did.” He leaned back in that chair, eyes on the fountains in front of him. “Got your text.”

“Oh, Logan, I shouldn’t have -” Embarrassed? No reason to be.

“Are you at work now, I hope I’m not -” You assured him that it was fine, and that you were taking a long lunch. “The only way to answer that would be to let you meet Hosts, you know?” He licked his lips, thinking. “An’ it’s different for everyone, so I don’t know how you’d… what you’d think of them.” That was the truth, and though it wasn’t difficult for Logan and Juliet to tell the difference, he knew - all too well - that it wasn’t the case for everyone. “If you were in one of the parks -”

“You and your sister, Logan. Both of you keep trying to get me into those damn parks when I …” You were laughing. “I’m not the type of person you need to impress, I’m just curious.”

“Jules wants you to go to the park?” It was his turn to laugh. Doesn’t surprise me. “Well then you know it must be -”

“Maybe in another lifetime, Logan.” You took a deep breath and he pictured the way your shoulders would settle, the subtle tilt of your head. “What did you call for, though? That didn’t answer my …” Maybe she doesn’t need to be in the parks to… He leaned forward, thinking. It would be easy, I can ask…

“I’m gonna work late tomorrow.” He stood, heading back for the entrance. “Get some extra shit done, but if you want to stop by the office after you’re out of work, I can answer your question in person?” It was unnecessary, but the seed was planted. “We’ve got a restaurant on-site, so we can get somethin’ to eat, and have a working dinner.” I want to see you, want to see how you…

“If you’re working late, it must mean you’re busy, and I don’t want to keep you from…” He heard the doubt creeping into your voice again, and Logan cut it off quickly, already in the elevator back up to his office.

“I’m the boss. It’s fine. Promise.” The doors opened to his floor, and Logan stepped in front of his office, leaning down to let the small camera scan his eye, the door unlocking almost immediately. “I’ll text you a visitor’s parking pass, and if you let me know when you get here, I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Sounds good. Is it alright if I get there around…” You thought for a second. “Five? It should only take me about twenty five minutes, so …”

“Perfect.” He was sitting at his desk, fingers flying over the keyboard and he sent you the pass, and again after, as he opened up a blank email. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yep.” He could tell you were smiling, and Logan smiled again, too. “I’ll be there.” There wasn’t much else to say, and so you hung up shortly after, Logan’s lips still curved upward. This is either going to go really well, or it’s going to backfire on me.

---

He met you in the lobby the following afternoon, standing back a few feet while you spoke with Cal, one of the receptionists. One. Your interaction with the man was pleasant but nothing special, and Logan watched you grin at him, reaching out to take the visitor’s badge in one hand. He called out your name, striding over to where you were standing, using one hand to clip the piece of plastic to the strap of your bag. “Logan this place is amazing.” It is.

“Didn’t always look like this.” He touched your elbow, guiding you through the lobby. “My father wasn’t a fan of the open plan, wanted everything to feel… intimidating, so when Juliet and I took over, we made some changes. She did, first. Then I… “You’re right though, this is much better.” He eyed you as you took in the tall ceilings and artwork, the sculptures and the fountains; the clear liquid splashing onto the marble tile of the floor and dripping into the recessed drains. “You look tired.” He finally took a good look at you when you stepped into the elevator, Logan typing in his code for access to the lower floors. “Long day at work?” You closed your eyes and nodded.

“Yeah, I work in admissions, like I said, so we’re in kind of a … slow spot right now, but the entire system went down this morning, and so I spent my entire shift doing data entry, and I …” You rubbed your eyes with both hands. “My eyes hurt.” He grinned at that, but didn’t say anything. “Thanks, though, for pointing out that -”

“Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you don’t look…” He paused. “Alright, yeah, that does make me sound like a dick.” That got you to laugh, and by the time the two of you stepped out into the entryway, Logan was laughing with you. “We’re not goin’ into my office yet. Follow me.” You looked confused, but Logan was eager to show you the first part of the reason he’d invited you to Delos. “This is somethin’ most people don’t ever get to see.” He pressed his hand against a panel next to a set of glass doors, a green light illuminating and the panes separating. “An’ it’s not …” Should I be doing this? “You’ll see.”

“Logan, what …” You were right next to him, and though the hall was well lit, the rooms you were passing weren’t, most of them completely dark. “I feel like we’re in a …” But you stopped speaking as you reached the end of the hallway, where the room was well lit. Here we go. “Logan…” He heard it in your voice - the moment you realized where you were and what you were doing, and only a second later, felt your fingers closing around his wrist. “Are those …”

“They are.” Only glass separated you from the man and woman in the room, the two of them dancing in a slow circle. “We’re workin’ on a new … project. It’s not a park, and it’s not on the island, so …” He looked over, expecting you to be focused on the window, but instead you were staring up at him, eyes full of shock. She’s lookin’ at me instead of… “So they’re here. Some of ‘em. We’re trying to…”

“Logan, they look so much like people, how …” You finally tore your eyes away from him and took a half step closer to the glass, fingers still circling his wrist. “This is …” He remembered what it had been like to see the Hosts for the first time, to speak to them, to touch them - feeling the way that they filled the room at the penthouse bar, Logan only realizing what was happening as Angela giggled and lifted her finger. It was incredible. And it still is. “She’s beautiful, Logan.” You had one hand on the glass and you finally let go of him with the other, reaching up to press your fingertips to your cheek, slowly moving them up and down.

“She is. When they design the hosts, they model ‘em off a composite of actual people.” He leaned closer to you, not wanting to raise his voice. “So some of them? You’ll look at them, and it’s close enough that you might think ‘oh, he’s got Timberlake’s eyes, or Skarsgard’s lips… or she’s got Keira Knightly’s…”

“Did you just give me a list of the people you find attractive, Logan?” You nudged him with your elbow. “Or are you telling me that I could go into the park and find someone as -” Always listening to what’s between the …

“We make ‘em so that they appeal to people.” He set his shoulders, eyes back on the couple, the man and woman still dancing, but laughing at the same time, one of his hands combing through her long, wavy hair. “So yeah, sometimes they pull features from real people, just to… make things more lifelike.” Logan took a breath. “We gotta get permission from them, of course, and even then, the techs change things like eye color or birthmarks, or …” He shrugged. “A lot of the Hosts are entirely new, but we’ve got hundreds of them in each park, and with this project, we need to …”

“You need to keep things familiar, because this…” You pulled your hand away from the glass, taking a deep breath. “Logan, I’ll be honest with you right now, I’m just looking at them, and it’s hard to believe that they’re real, that this … exists. Any of it. It’s overwhelming. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in one of the parks, surrounded by …”

“It’s a fuckin’ trip.” You turned to face him, though he watched your eyes dart back to the left before they focused on him. “Every time, even though I know none of it is real.” He watched your lips tremble slightly, and Logan contemplated his next words. How much do I … “It only gets as real as you let it, and the parks are designed so that the Hosts can’t really hurt you, but if you forget that - and it’s easy to, sometimes - it can get… pretty goddamn wild.”

“I bet.” You swallowed and turned your head back toward the window, not saying anything else, and Logan watched you, eyes roaming over your profile. You weren’t reacting the way that he’d thought you would. He hadn’t expected you to flip out, or talk his ear off, but he wasn’t expecting the almost stoic silence, either. Is she not impressed? Is she … “Why are you showing this to me, Logan?” You took a deep breath. “There aren’t supposed to be Hosts in the United States, Delos signed a -” She’s lookin’ into us?

“We did. And technically, these Hosts aren’t in the United States, because they’re confined to this building, to specific floors, and if they leave? They cross the barriers?” He reached out cautiously, knowing that you could see the movement, and when you didn’t stop him, he laid one fingertip at the base of your neck, pressing gently. “They’ve got implants, and… boom.” He felt you shiver, watching your eyes close. Is that causea the… “They keep a close eye on ‘em, too, and the only people that know they’re here are the ones we trust.”

“So why am I here?” You turned your entire body to face him, and because the movement shocked him, Logan’s hand moved along the side of your throat and over your shoulder before he could pull it back. Fuck. The contact stunned him, leaving him speechless for the span of two breaths. Oh, fuck, that’s not … He watched the look in your eyes change, realizing that you hadn’t meant for it to happen either, his touch visibly affecting you, and then Logan spoke again, the tiniest wavering of his voice audible.

“Because you asked how real they were, an’ the only way to explain it is to show you.” He drew his hand back, sliding it smoothly into his pocket and gesturing with the other toward the glass. “And this is nothing. It’s different when you’re talkin’ to them, or you’re in bed with them, or you shoot one of them, an’ watch them fall, or when they…” He stopped himself. “But.” Logan sucked air through his teeth before letting out his breath. “At least you’ve seen ‘em now, yeah?” You nodded. “An’ I know you won’t say anything about this, because ...” Because I trust you already, and that’s… “Because I think you wanna be my friend, and you know that …”

“Who would I tell, Logan?” Your eyes were shining. “I never thought I’d…” You looked back, the male Host dipping the female backwards, one of his hands rising to the side of her face, thumb skating over the fullest part of her cheek. “Jesus.” It was impressive - he had to admit it. The Hosts had come a long way in the years since his first private demonstration, and Logan was glad for it. They’re gonna be the only thing that gets me through… He shook his head briefly. Not now. “I won’t say a word, Logan, I promise.” You reached toward him, squeezing his hand and Logan let you, eyes flicking down so that he could watch as you gripped his fingers briefly, not even giving him a chance to squeeze back before you let go. “Thank you for showing me.”

That shocked him - not that you’d thanked him, because he’d figured you would, but that you accepted the short viewing of the Hosts as the extent of what he was offering, and hadn’t pushed further. I guess I kind of expected that, too. And it means that I was … “You’re welcome.” Logan’s mind was racing, the man trying to keep up with his thoughts. “D’you wanna go back upstairs now? I meant what I said about havin’ dinner. You can ask questions, or …”

“I don’t even know what I’d ask, Logan. I wasn’t expecting … this, and now I …” But you haven’t even … “But yes. Let’s go back up.” We should. “You said there’s a cafeteria? I didn’t actually get to eat lunch today, so -”

“Come on, then. Let’s get you some food.” And get to the second part of this.

---

The cafeteria - like the rest of Delos - was sleek and modern, wide open, with windows that overlooked the city, and you felt yourself smile as you looked around, more than a few other people still in the space. I’m surprised there’s…

But the more you thought about it, the more you weren’t that shocked. Delos was a 24/7 company, employees working around the clock in different departments. And based on what I just saw, it makes perfect sense. Logan showing you the two Hosts had been a total surprise, and you’d been in awe at how lifelike they were - barely a few feet away from you, focused on each other like a couple in love, their mannerisms - from what you could tell - no different than your own would have been. “You’re not even listenin’.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts and focused back on Logan, the man leaning across the table and toward you. “And I thought I was interesting.” Oh, you are, Logan. I just …

“Did you have a good trip? Juliet told me one of your guests got sick, so you came back early.”

“I did. It was niceta get back into the park, and …” He grinned, winking and taking a long drink. “Have some fun.” Can I ask? Should I ask? You wanted to, wanted to know Logan’s take on things, and with a deep inhale, you decided to do just that. “Logan.” You bit your lip, blinking. “When you say fun, do you mean -”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “That’s exactly what I mean. Along with some shooting and fighting and …” Ok, so he answered that. But will he…

“So when you go into the park, you …” You raised an eyebrow. “Sleep with the -”

“Not doin’ much sleeping, usually.” He winked at you, but you didn’t let it deter you. You’re not gonna get me that easily, Logan.

“Ok, so that’s my next question.” You took a drink from the cup in front of you. “So you don’t consider that cheating then? Since you’ve got a fiancée, and yet you still…”

“No.” There was no shame in the reply, Logan’s eyes locked onto your face. “It’s not cheating if they’re not real. And they’re not real, no matter how real they look or feel or act, so…” He ran a hand through his hair. “The Hosts are one of the only habits I haven’t broken yet, an’ between you and me?” He leaned in, tone serious. “Out of all of ‘em, it’s the safest.” You’re right. You widened your eyes as he spoke, but tried to hide it. He… Sex with the Hosts presented very few risks to Logan - or his reputation. The parks weren’t traceable, and there was no chance of getting any of them pregnant - or catching anything from them in return. They can’t hurt him, they can’t start any rumors, and there’s no … there’s no permanence. “Any other questions?”

He was resting an elbow on the table, chin atop his hand. So many. But before you could speak, you heard someone say his name, turning your head to watch a man heading toward your table. Oh, this will be awkward, he’ll have to introduce me. “Logan! Good to see you, I didn’t realize you were back.” Logan straightened up, grinning. “Who’s this?”

“Hey, Gideon.” Logan nodded once. “This is my friend.” He introduced you, and there wasn’t even time for you to say anything before the man was holding his hand out to you, saying hello. “She had a couple questions about the parks, and I figured it was easier to talk in person.” He gestured to the chair. “Sit with us?” You were focused on the second man, though, eyes on his face and on the warmth you saw in his eyes; green tinged with blue and gold. He’s… The man was attentive, repeating your name even as he removed his hand from yours and dropped into the chair next to you. “What have you been up to?”

You watched the two of them speak, both animated as they continued their conversation, turning toward you every now and then to include you. They must be friends, this is … Taking their conversation as an opportunity to observe, you eyed Gideon, smiling as the man reached up to scratch his chin, never looking away from Logan. He’s handsome. You realized it after only a few moments, letting yourself eye the man without restraint. Really handsome, I wonder if all of the employees are … But your thoughts were interrupted by Logan asking you a question, and you pulled your attention away from Gideon, focusing back on the other man. “What? No. I’ve only been to Juliet’s that one time, aside from when you and I went.” I was paying attention, Logan. I might have been watching Gideon, but… “She invited me back out to use the pool again, but so far, no.”

“You’ve never invited me out to swim at your sister’s Logan.” Gideon was laughing, and though he spoke to Logan, he was eyeing you. “And you’ve already gotten a callback?” He winked at you, grin widening. “You’ve got to tell me your secrets, about how you won Juliet over so fast.” Logan remained quiet, but as you glanced at him, you saw that he was watching the two of you, barely concealing the smile on his face. But if he’s friends with Logan, wouldn’t…

“No secrets, Gideon.” You shrugged, taking a bite out of your burger. “But it is a nice pool.” The man laughed loudly, eyes closing as he nodded.

“Fair enough.” He rested his forearm on the table, leaning slightly closer. “Logan said you have some questions about the parks?” You said yes, once again glancing at Logan. I’m almost positive this guy is hitting on me, but … “Maybe I can answer. Logan’s got the money and the power, but I work in Asset Development, so I’m much more … hands on, if you know what I mean.” His boldness took you by surprise, but as you thought about his words, you realized that if he was hitting on you, he was doing it without worry. Logan’s engaged, of course he wouldn’t care that someone was …

But even as you continued the conversation with the two men, Gideon supplying answers when Logan couldn’t, the man asking you questions and inviting you to visit him in his office sometime to talk more, you were slightly distracted. But Logan said … when we were in the apartment, that he liked me … he tried to … You looked back and forth between both of them, trying to keep a neutral expression, and then focused on Gideon’s face. Logan’s too calm. There’s no way that he would … Gideon scratched his chin again and you sucked in a breath, trying to keep it quiet. Not only me, he was basically hitting on Juliet, too, and Logan wouldn’t… there’s no way that … Not if it was real. “Logan.” You whispered the single word, locking your eyes on the man’s, finding that he was staring at you. “Logan.”

“That’s enough, Gideon.” The second man stopped speaking, and Logan continued. “All that we need is too close to be seen.” Without another word, Gideon stood and turned away from the table, heading back in the direction that he’d come from. What the fuck. “You figured it out.” Logan leaned closer, a note of pride in his voice. “How?”

“He was a…” Logan nodded. “I thought I was …” But Logan didn’t speak, only watching you quietly. “It was mostly you, Logan. He didn’t do anything, not really, but you … your reaction to him hitting on Juliet and... The way you just sat back and watched? You said it’s never real, and I think that if he’d really been doing that, in front of you? And including me? You wouldn’t have been so calm.” Maybe. He looked surprised at your words, but nodded.

“So I gave it away?” You did, but … “Gideon’s one of our newest. We use him as a test subject. He does work in Asset Management, but he’s going to be something else down the line.” So he let me meet a … he introduced me to … “Are you alright?” Logan’s hand moved as if he wanted to touch yours, but he stopped short. “I shouldn’t have …”

“No, I’m....” You shook your head, lowering it. “I just wasn’t expecting to…” Bringing your gaze back up, you met Logan’s eyes once more. “He scratched his chin a few times, Logan, I caught that. And his eyes were … I’ve never seen eyes like that, especially on someone that seemed like -” But you stopped, not wanting to finish your sentence. I don’t need him to think I’m reading more into this.

“Seemed what?” But it wasn’t going to be that easy, Logan still talking quietly. “You gotta tell me.”

“I’ve never been hit on by a guy that looks like that.” You gestured in the direction that the man had gone. “But it felt real, so I… went with it.”

“Yeah you have.” He gave you a quick smile. “Because I’m pretty sure that I’ve -”

“You don’t count, Logan. You’re practically married, so… you flirting might be honest, but it’s not going to …” It’s not going to lead anywhere. I don’t know what’s worse - the robot blatantly doing it that could have led to … or Logan, who can’t … “Wait, you were hitting on me?” You rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood. “You must be losing your touch, because I -”

“Oh, shut up. You know I was.” It was Logan’s turn to take a drink, watching you from over the rim of his glass. “So what did you think? Cal an’ the two in the basement, and Gideon?” Cal? You mean the receptionist? “Yeah, he’s a Host, too. Like I said, we’re rotating the new Hosts through different positions, just to make sure that they can integrate into real situations, when it comes time.” He’s telling me their future plans like I… “So you’ve talked to two of ‘em, touched two of them.” I did, they were … they felt like … “And?”

“And … what?” You were confused, overstimulated, still in disbelief that because of a chance encounter, you’d gotten an opportunity to - in person - see and feel the Delos Hosts. “I had no idea at first, Logan. Is that how it is in the parks? Are -”

“No, they’re dialed back here. They have to be. The parks are meant to be … real, but still over the top. I can’t explain it. They’re tryin’ to get your attention from the second you step offa the train. It’s all a come-on, and everyone’s got a part to play. But here? They gotta fit in, blend in. There, you know that you’re interacting with them a lot of times, but here, you can’t know.

“Well they fooled me, Logan. Both of them, I -”

“Not entirely, though.” He looked slightly worried. “You said you noticed Gideon scratching -”

“Only because I was already focused on the way you were acting, Logan. Without you right here, I probably wouldn’t have …” Stop talking. The more you say, the more he’s… Logan wasn’t an idiot, and you knew that you’d likely already said too much. The look in his eyes confirmed your suspicions, and the next words he said solidified them.

“So you could tell I wasn’t… acting like myself?” You thought about lying to him - for a split second - making up an excuse that wouldn’t make it seem as if you were trying to read into his behavior - and then you didn’t.

“I could. Especially with Juliet. I don’t think any man would have the balls to talk about her like that in front of you.” You took a breath. “And I guess, Logan, that I don’t really think you’d just casually try to pawn me off on someone that I don’t -”

“You’re right.” He chewed on his lower lip for a few seconds. “On both counts, actually. The last person that … disrespected Juliet in front of me? He got what he deserved. Eventually.” You watched Logan’s eyes go cold, lip curling slightly. That’s a sore subject. “And you? You’re damn right that I wouldn’t just sit back and... “ He stopped himself and you felt your heart thud, though you knew it was pointless. He’s just being a good friend. “But a Host?” Logan let out a long breath, closing his eyes and smirking for a few seconds. “They’re built to be fuckin’ irresistable, so…” One eyebrow raised, Logan finished his sentence. “It’s not a problem.”

“So wait a second.” You took another bite, needing a few seconds. “Does that mean that if Ariella were to go to the parks, you wouldn’t bat an eye at seeing -”

“Nope.” He lifted a forkful of pasta salad to his lips, and when he’d swallowed, he spoke. “And I know that a lot of people think that’s bullshit, but as long as you know it’s not real? It makes it a hell of a lot easier to let your guard down, to look at it objectively.”

“What do you mean?” I get it, I think, but … “You could just watch her go off with one of them, knowing that -”

“I could. I have.” He took another long swallow of his drink. “And not just Hosts, either.” That’s… wait, what? “Everyone’s got a history, right? With people, you never know what the fuck the other person’s doing; where they’ve been or who they’ve been with. With the parks? Every Host gets taken offline and cleaned up between Guest encounters, so it doesn’t matter. We’ve gotta protect the people in the parks, and we’ve gotta do what’s right. There’s no risk. No diseases, no pregnancies, no attachments.” His words echoed your earlier thoughts, but Logan continued. “I could take you right now, to where Gideon is, and bring him back online completely. He’d start the conversation with you where it left off. You guys could do whatever, and then go your separate ways… but the next time he met you? He might not remember it, depending on what we’ve had him doing between. To him, it’s like nothin’ happened, when we reset him, even though it did.”

“Logan, that -”

“It’s safe. It’s smart. It’s efficient. Think about how many relationships could be saved if people went and fucked Hosts instead of real people? Think about how many fewer problems there’d be, people blowin’ off steam by goin’ to bed with -” He swore, cutting himself off, muttering under his breath. “D’you wanna do that? Go find Gideon, or maybe even Cal? Have some… we’ve got private rooms here, in the building, you could -” Why is he… why does he think I…

“No, Logan.” You narrowed your eyes. “Gideon was good looking, but that doesn’t mean that I … it doesn’t matter that he’s a Host, I’ve spoken to him for fifteen minutes, and I -” You paused. “That would have been like you and I fucking in the Whole Foods parking lot with that damn ice cream melting in your trunk.” He snorted at that, giving you a look that you couldn’t quite read. I don’t know what’s going on right now, but this isn’t the same… he’s thinking about something different, something … “It would be different if I was in a park, Logan, and we’d known each other for a couple minutes, because that’s … that’s what it’s supposed to be like. But out here? This is real life. I can’t just get back on a train and leave, it…” You’re explaining this really poorly.

“Aren’t you curious? You’ve seen ‘em. Felt them, talked with them. Don’t you want to -”

“Of course I’m curious, Logan, but that doesn’t mean … this is a lot to think about. I -”

“What do you think?” His tone changed again, Logan’s eyes once again filled with warmth. “You asked me if I thought it was cheating, fucking the Hosts in the park, but what do you -”

“It’s not.” You wet your lips. “It would probably be hard the first time, to know that someone I cared about was probably in bed with someo… something else, to see it happen, even just watching y… them walk away with the Host, but it… yeah, for the duration, it’s real, but… fuck, Logan, if I’m paying $40,000 a day? If they are paying $40,000 a day? Fuck all the robots you want and get your money’s worth.” That got a laugh from Logan, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned.

“I’m offerin’ you, right now, the chance. No forty grand, no park, no … strings. You and onea those two, in a -”

“No. Thank you, Logan, but no.” This is… are we really having this conversation? “If I’m going to sleep with one of the Hosts, I want it to be… the real circumstances, not just one basically hand delivered to me by the fucking CEO of the company that’s designing them.” And I don’t really want a Host, either, I… “What does that say about me, hmm?” You tilted your head to one side. “Need someone to play matchmaker for me, and the match isn’t even a real…”

“You don’t need me.” Logan interrupted. “I’m just in a position to offer you somethin’ you can’t refuse for a hell of a lot less than the going rate.” The playful tone was back in Logan’s voice, but you still heard some hesitation. What is … why? “Except you’re refusing it. Are you sure? Gideon’s a hell of a -”

“I’m sure.” Though you were surprised to hear yourself reply so quickly, you were certain of your answer. “I appreciate it, but I…” You shrugged. “He might be designed to be perfect, but I’ll be honest and tell you he’s not what I usually go for.” You saw that Logan was surprised, but the man kept quiet, raising one hand and lifting his shoulder in a shrug. Not even close.

---

The following weeks kept Logan busy with finalizing contracts, the man flying between LA and Boston for work multiple times. Though he kept in touch with you via text, you didn’t see each other again, and Logan thought that it was likely for the best. Because the last time she .. she gave me a lot to think about.

You’d picked up on his behavior both in front of the Host room and in the cafeteria, though you didn’t know him well. You’d paid more attention to him than to the Hosts that you’d been confronted with, even while Logan had seen you eyeing Gideon, almost in disbelief. And that was before she knew. It had been wrong of him to surprise you with so much information in so little time, but Logan had wanted to see your genuine reaction to the Hosts, and if he’d clued you in, it would have ruined everything. And she … she didn’t …

The disbelief he’d understood. Seeing and meeting them for the first time was special, even if their true potential wasn’t on display. But what he hadn’t understood was how quick you were to turn down the opportunity to get closer to either of the two men, though it was apparent that you understood the true stakes of the offer itself. She didn’t care. It wasn’t just about … the experience. You didn’t think that you’d ever make it to one of the parks, and were still willing to turn down the chance to take a Host to bed, no strings attached. Wish my fiancée was the same.

Your questions and comments about cheating, about the safety of being with Hosts had gotten to Logan, and though he knew that you had no idea about his relationship’s parameters, he’d been unable to stop thinking about what you’d said - and how you’d said it. She meant it. Really didn’t think I was honestly flirting with her, was surprised at me saying that I’ve watched Ariella… I’m sure she saw the way I reacted to talking about all those relationships. He swore under his breath, propping his feet up on the railing of the balcony. And then I tried to fucking get her to go off with …

The look in your eyes as he’d suggested you sleeping with one of the Hosts had surprised him the most. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you’d take the opportunity if presented with it under normal circumstances, but he’d put you on the spot, and he knew it. But she… Instead of agreeing out of shock and excitement, you’d turned his offer down repeatedly, providing him with legitimate explanations for your refusal. There was something she didn’t say, though. He lifted the beer bottle to his lips, taking a long drink as the LA skyline twinkled in front of him. Something she was thinking. If Gideon - or Cal - weren’t your type, then what was? There’s gotta be…

He’d told William once that the park managed to seduce everyone at some point, and while he’d been trying to make the man understand what he was in store for, Logan believed the words himself. The park, the Hosts, the stakes … it’s a lot. But she … she’s still...

The more he got to know you, the more he wanted to understand. She’s not like … Logan’s mind drifted to his fiancée, and at the realization that she’d be back in Los Angeles within sixteen hours, Logan winced. Ariella woulda fucked them both, no questions asked. The woman had very few boundaries, and despite the fact that she was wearing a diamond he’d given her on her finger, that deficiency extended to the bedroom - and to her partners. She’s here for my dad’s party, and then we’ll have some meetings on Sunday with vendors, and then she’ll be gone again, and I … He rubbed a hand over his entire face, letting out a sigh. “Same fuckin’ thing.”

Staring up at the slowly darkening sky, Logan watched as the clouds moved across it, his mind racing. He truly didn’t care about the Host interactions, because that was what the parks were for. But each week that passed, each time he checked the woman’s private accounts, or his lawyers had to race to keep stories from leaking about her indiscretions, the amount that he cared about their future decreased, too. Might not be a traditional relationship, but goddamn, she could at least … He knew he was a catch - educated, wealthy, good looking - but Logan’s self esteem dropped each time he saw his fiancée, the woman barely lukewarm toward him, unless she knew the cameras were on. I was in bed with her more when we weren’t anything serious. Who would have …

Logan finished his drink and stood, striding back through the living room and into his kitchen, opening the drawer where Ariella had stashed the small container of drugs. I can’t believe this is … Setting the bottle down on the counter, he picked up the tin, turning it over in his fingers, a frown on his face. He felt the faint pull, deep in his chest, thinking about the days when he wouldn’t have thought twice about opening it and seeing what she’d left for him; carrying it into the master bathroom and dumping out a small mound of the white powder onto the back of his hand, covering one knuckle. It’d be easy. His fingers curled, the container solid in his hand. She might not even remember it’s here, so she wouldn’t know it’s gone. He lowered his head. Or maybe when she gets here, we can say fuck Jim’s party, and…

But before that thought could continue, Juliet’s face - and then Emily’s flashed through his mind. Juliet’s features were schooled into the same mixture of sadness and fear that he’d seen when he woke up in the hospital after Westworld, Emily’s eyes filled with disappointment. I can’t do that. Not to them, not again. Not to myself. His eyes opened and he glanced down, head shaking back and forth before he set the container back down and slid the drawer shut. She’s not worth it. He knew it to be true - knew that every moment following the agreement that they made, every second of their relationship was worse than the last, but Logan was hesitant to let himself focus on it. I can’t. It’ll ruin everything, but no one … no one notices, no one sees…

At that thought, Logan also thought of you, the way you’d noticed his actions, noticed the subtle changes in his demeanor after only spending a few hours with him. He thought of the way you spoke to him - unafraid to question him, and even less afraid to tell him the truth, even when it differed from what he said or thought. She would notice. He knew that it was the truth - knew that the moment you saw him and Ariella together, you’d know something wasn’t right. Maybe that would be … He sighed, moving down the hallway and into his bedroom, laying down atop the blankets and folding one arm back beneath his head. But then I’d need to explain, and she wouldn’t … it’d be like I was lying to her, and I’m not. I just can’t … “Fuck.” He closed his eyes. “God fucking dammit.”

He’d never done so much as touch you anywhere but the arm or the back of your neck; hadn’t even come close to kissing you or holding you, but Logan couldn’t deny that he was interested in you. And it’s not … not even physical, it’s… everything. He wouldn’t act on it - even with the arrangement he had in place with Ariella - because Logan knew that you deserved more. And I think it’s … I don’t think it would be as easy as … He rubbed his eyes with one hand but didn’t reopen them. And if she knew, it would mean that I’d either have to refuse to say anything else, or … or tell her about Billy, and what started this whole thing.

The extent of the William Incident was something that very few people knew. Juliet knew all of it; his therapist knew everything, too. Ariella knew that he’d had a bad experience, but he hadn’t ever found the will to explain to her - preferring to only blame his drug use and excessively destructive lifestyle to nearly dying in the desert, without detailing it. And fucking Jim still doesn’t believe me, otherwise he wouldn’t have … Logan swore again, letting out a long breath. He’d never truly wanted to tell anyone, because the more Logan thought about it, the more he blamed himself - for taking William, for pushing him, for not seeing the signs until it was too late. Do I want to tell someone?

There were days he believed that it would have been easier if he’d died in the desert - all of his shares in the company and his fortune rolling over into a trust meant for any future children of Juliet’s when they turned 18, the only stipulation that they not be touched by William in any way, shape or form. Fucking him out of that would have been something that he didn’t expect, and it would have… ruined him. That got a small smile from Logan, eyes cracking open as he turned his head toward the window. “But I didn’t.” He repeated the words, sitting up. “I’m still here, and still at Delos, and he isn’t.”

Logan pushed himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet flat on the floor. If it came down to it - and you ever met Ariella - Logan knew that you’d have tons of questions for him. But would I answer? He frowned, lower lip jutting out. Do I want her to ask? He sighed, standing. And what would Ariella … would she say anything? Would she see the way… “The way what, Delos? She’s your friend, and …” But if I wasn’t engaged, I think it would be… “Different.”

---

“Ari, come on.” He was sitting on the couch, one arm stretched out over the back of it. “We’re gonna be late, we’ve gotta stop over and pick up Jules on the way.” His eyes were on the TV, a movie playing on low volume. “You -”

“I’m ready, Logan.” He turned his head at the sound of her voice, Logan’s eyes landing on the redhead. “I don’t know why we’re not taking a car, it makes -”

“Because I need to be able to leave whenever I want to.” He stood, swallowing. “”You look great, Ari. That’s a -” His hand landed on her hip, and the woman’s hands moved to his chest, palms flat. “That’s a good color on you.” He wasn’t lying - the woman did look great, the navy blue cocktail dress hugging all of her curves, her long hair swept over one shoulder and held in place by a jeweled clip. “You look like you got some sun, too, you -”

“You never know who’s going to be at these things, Logan.” She rose onto her toes, kissing his cheek. “Have to make a good impression, right?” No, you don’t, because you’re going to be my wife. No one will … But he didn’t say anything in response, pulling away from the woman and grabbing his jacket from where it was hanging over the back of a chair, folding it over his arm. “Who made the guest list this time, Logan? Anyone I’d know on it?” Probably.

They rode the elevator down, Logan reciting some of the people’s names that would likely be there, Ariella rifling through her purse as she half listened. You asked, and now you … He rolled his eyes as the two of them exited into the garage, the woman waiting until Logan had opened the door for her to lower herself into the seat. As he slid into his side, buckling his seatbelt, Logan turned the car on and backed out of his spot, hearing the woman let out a breath. “What?”

“Can we turn the air on, Logan? It’s disgusting here, it’s so sticky out -” Oh, you better not have … He swung his head to look at her, eyes landing on the woman’s nose before they moved up. But Ariella’s eyes were clear and there was no powder beneath either nostril. So she’s just complaining. Got it. But he flipped the dial, and within only a few seconds, the interior had cooled off. “So why are we picking up Juliet? I thought she’d drive herself, maybe bring -”

“She didn’t want to drive herself, and as far as I know, she didn’t ask anyone to go with her.” Logan turned onto 10, shaking his head. “So I offered to drive her, because I figured it’d be easier.” And because she’ll have to head home earlier because of Emily. “Besides, it’ll give the two of you more time to talk, since you haven’t seen each other in a while.” Logan knew that Juliet wasn’t the biggest fan of Ariella, and that she felt somewhat responsible for Logan’s situation. But she doesn’t need to. It’s my own … He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, merging onto 110. “Ari, I set up a couple appointments for tomorrow. A wedding planner and a -”

“Yeah, about that.” She reached over, letting her hand rest on his knee. “Logan, I don’t … Do we have to meet with them? Can’t we just pick one, and then put them into contact with…” Logan groaned, feeling more disappointed than he thought he would. She doesn’t even … “I’ve already narrowed down the dresses, and I think that I’ve found a way to sell the first look at …”

“We have nothing planned, and you’re already worrying about who you can sell a story to?” Logan switched lanes, fingers flexing on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t that seem -”

“We’ve set a date, Logan. Everything else will fall into place.” She squeezed his knee and then pulled her hand away. “I can have my publicist get ahold of yours so that we can coordinate, but honestly? I don’t… Logan, it’s not like this is …” Yeah. I know. “We might as well make the most of it, right? Get as much out of the whole thing as possible? We don’t need to plan it, we just need to show up.” That’s not what I… But he again fell silent as they continued to drive, Logan unsure of what to say to the woman. So she’s taking it less seriously than I am. I should have known, but … He let out a breath, glancing over at the woman and was unsurprised to see that she’d pulled her phone out, her full attention on the device. I could ask her what she’s been… but I don’t want to fight. I just want to… “Look, right on time.”

She finally spoke again as they pulled around a dark blue SUV and into Juliet’s driveway, the gate open. We are. Actually, we’re a few minutes early. “Do you want to come in and see Em? It’s been -”

“I guess.” The woman shrugged. “I haven’t really ever spent much time with her, so I don’t know how …” For the first time in as long as he could remember, Ariella looked truly uncomfortable, a small frown on her face. “Does she know who I am?” She does, but …

“Yeah, Ari. Of course she does.” He grinned, running one hand through his hair and sliding his keys into his pocket. “Come on.” They walked across the driveway and up to the front door, Logan knocking once before pushing down on the handle and opening it. “Jules? We’re here.” They stepped into the entryway, Logan glancing around the corner. “Em?” He heard the little girl before he saw her; an excited shriek of his name followed by the sound of her footsteps as she ran toward them. Probably in her playroom. The little girl rounded the corner, her arms held out to Logan, who crouched over and reached for her, the grin never leaving his face. At least someone’s happy to see me. He hugged the girl to his chest, turning his head toward Ariella, who was watching with the same uncomfortable smile on her face, but what Logan wasn’t expecting was a second set of footsteps following the little girl’s, abruptly stopping along with the movement that he saw out of the corner of his eye. What … Squeezing Emily one more time, he set her down, still staring. There’s… why? In disbelief, Logan stood up again, lips parted slightly as he said your name, confused. “What are you -”

“Juliet’s babysitter canceled last minute.” You shrugged, taking a step into the room and toward Logan and Ariella, even as Emily returned to your side, one arm going around your bare leg and your fingers barely brushing the top of her head. “And I was supposed to come over tomorrow anyway, so I …” You shrugged. “I just said I’d watch Em, so Juliet didn’t have to miss the party, and …” He heard it - the slight waver of your voice as you looked between him and Ariella, your eyes never lingering on either of them. “So, while you guys are eating all of that fancy food and drinking that alcohol, and schmoozing... Emily and I are going to swim, and roast marshmallows, and …” He heard his niece giggle, watching as you looked back down. “Have fun, right?”

The little girl nodded and Logan felt himself smiling as he watched the two of you interact, you barely paying attention to Logan and Ariella. Where are you, Jules? Why didn’t you … Logan’s heart was thumping in his chest, and he felt closer to panic than he had in months, but he wasn’t quite sure why. “How do you two know each other?” Ariella finally spoke, stepping forward, her heels clicking against the floor. “Are you a friend of -”

“Logan and I met in a Whole Foods like … six weeks ago?” You tilted your head to one side. “He was buying a card for his housekeeper’s kid, and we talked for a few minutes.” You took a breath, clearing your throat. “Emily, go ahead back into the playroom. I’ll be there in a little while.” But before she did as you asked, the little girl let go of you and sprinted back toward Logan, her arms held out for another hug, which he gave her without pause, telling her to be good for you. As she disappeared through the doorway, you stepped closer to Logan and Ariella, blinking. “And after that, he introduced me to Juliet, because I live kind of close, and …” You shrugged. “It worked out, because…” Logan glanced at Ariella, watching as she assessed you, her eyes slightly narrowed, but still curious. What is… she’s never … “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, Ariella, from both Logan and J-”

“I haven’t heard anything about you.” Her tone bored, Ariella stepped away from Logan, reaching up with her left hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. Why is she… “Are you sleeping with Logan? You should.” He sucked in a breath at the woman’s question, Logan’s eyes going back to you and seeing yours widen, head jerking back in surprise. “You’re not really his type, but it wouldn’t…”

“Ari.” He finally spoke. “Stop, there’s -” But you scoffed, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

“What kind of a question is that? He’s engaged. He’s been very upfront about that since the second I met him and realized who he was. So no, Ariella, I’m not fucking your fiance.” You didn’t flinch as you spoke, which impressed Logan, the man focused entirely on the way that you were holding your ground, arms loosely by your sides. “Besides, even if I wanted to, Logan’s not the kind of person to cheat on -”

“You didn’t tell her?” Ariella laughed, looking away from you and back at Logan. “Really?” No, because it’s part of the fucking … “Oh, you...” Ariella laughed again, refocusing on you. “He’s engaged, but it isn’t a real…” Stop it, Ari.

“Hello, Ariella.” The three of you looked up, seeing that Juliet was standing on the stairs, arms crossed over her chest. “So good to see you.” Logan caught the ice in his sister’s tone. “Thank you for coming to get me, Logan. I’m almost ready, I just need to say goodbye to Emily, and then we can go.” He nodded, still feeling slightly numb. I need to … But he wasn’t sure what he needed to do, and though he’d thought that he wanted you to meet Ariella, the fact that it was actually happening had unsettled him.

“Juliet, it’s great to see you.” Ariella smiled brightly. “While you go and say goodbye to Emily, I’m going to go and use your bathroom. It’s so hot out, I want to check my makeup.” Juliet waved a hand vaguely at the stairs as she crossed the hallway toward where you stood, and without even acknowledging Logan, his fiancee stepped past him, taking the stairs quickly. I should follow Juliet, spend a few more minutes with Emily.

“You look great, Logan.” He heard you speaking, finally finding it in himself to meet your gaze. “It’s been a couple weeks, your hair got long.” It did. You hadn’t moved, still standing in the doorway, but you’d crossed your arms, a small frown on your face. “I didn’t realize …”

“Thank you.” Logan watched you, unsure of what to say. “I need to get it cut, but I don’t…”

“Nah, it makes you look younger.” You finally cracked a smile, but he saw the confusion in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Logan. I don’t know why she assumed that -” No. Don’t you dare apologize.

“She assumed it because that’s what she thinks of me.” He shrugged, deciding to say as much as he could without saying anything. “I’m used to it, and I should be, because of my past, but …” He wet his lips, frowning. “She had… no right.”

“She should know that. Maybe not about me, because she doesn’t know me, but she’s marrying you, Logan, she should …” You looked up, sighing. “It’s not my business. And neither is …” Swallowing hard, you looked at him again, and instinctively, Logan knew what was coming. “What did she mean, Logan? That you’re engaged, but it’s not … not a real what?” He expected it from you - the direct questioning - but still didn’t know how to answer. He paused, searching your face for a few seconds, but before he could reply, Juliet spoke again from behind you.

“That might be a conversation for another day, hmm?” He watched as the woman squeezed your arm. “We’ve got to leave, and if you guys get into that, it’ll…” She grinned, but Logan could tell that she was unsettled, too. “Em’s playing with her dollhouse, she knows that she has to listen to you, and I think she’ll be good.”

“She will.” Logan spoke, pushing his fingers through his hair again as Juliet stepped past you and next to him. “You won’t have any problems. And if you do?” He widened his smile. “Tell her Uncle Logan’s going to -”

“Uncle Logan’s going to what?” Everyone’s attention went back to the stairs, Ariella descending quickly, one hand on the railing. “Usually that threat comes before he takes his clothes -” Stop it. Logan’s eyes were on the woman’s face, and it only took him a few seconds to see that she was once again out of it, pupils wide and the smile on her face artificial. You couldn’t even wait until we … He heard Juliet hiss from next to him and Logan fought back a wince, his eyes going to you for a brief second. She looks disappointed. “He’s good at making threats… promises… you name it.” He felt Ariella’s hand on his arm, her fingers curling around the space just beneath his elbow. “He’s good at a lot of things. You sure you haven’t -”

“How’d he propose to you, Ariella?” You cut her off, and Logan watched the forced smile on your face, the expression not reaching your eyes. That’s the question she asks? “I saw the pictures in some of the magazines and online, but I’ve been really curious about how he …” What is she doing? Why does she… But Logan realized that you were trying to redirect the woman, reminding her that you knew he was off limits - and Logan didn’t think he’d ever appreciated something more. “I bet it’s a really good story.”

“You know, I don’t…” Ariella laughed. “I don’t even remember where we were when he asked.” Logan couldn’t stop the recoil at her words, his mouth dropping open. I didn’t … really? “Oh, come on, Logan. It’s not that big of a deal. We’d been drinking a lot, and it was mostly for show anyway, because we knew that the press was expecting it, so I guess…” She turned her head toward him, smirking. “He probably remembers, though. Logan remembers everything.”

“It’s time to go.”Juliet spoke again, her voice even frostier than it had been. “Logan, are you ready?” I’ve been ready. “If you need me, call. I can be back here in half an hour.” Logan watched you collect yourself and then nod at the woman, keeping your eyes averted. She must have so many …

“We’ll be fine, Juliet. I promise.” Your voice didn’t waver, but Logan heard something in it, a thinly veiled concern, maybe. I … she… “Hope you guys have a good time.” We won’t. You didn’t say anything else, instead turning away and beginning to step out of the room, but Ariella said your name, telling you to stop. What is …

“I meant it.” You looked back over your shoulder at them, and Logan again froze, waiting. “You really should see what he’s like in bed before we get married and he’s not allowed anymore.” The woman laughed and Logan couldn’t stop himself from pulling his arm away from her, eyes wide and jaw dropped. “He might not have told you what the deal is, but I’m here - right here - telling you that I don’t care what he does.” She raised an eyebrow at Logan, lips curved into a satisfied smirk. “Everything stops when we get married, but not a second before, right darling?” He felt rage, the emotion coursing through his blood stronger than it ever had before; moreso than when William had left him in the desert, stronger than when Juliet and his father hadn’t believed him, sharper than when he’d been disappointed in himself for making such destructive and dangerous choices about his health. Because this isn’t just about me. This is … “Then again,” Ariella drawled out the words, her accent all but disappearing. “Someone like you might not be able to stop when it’s time, since I’m positive you’ve never had anyone like Logan before.”

You blinked twice and Logan saw that you were close to tears. Unacceptable. “Enough. It’s time to go.” He reached for her arm, gripping it with his long fingers and pulling her back toward the door. “You’re being a real asshole, Ari.” She only laughed, wrenching herself out of his grip and turning toward the door, her back to you without another word. Juliet moved too, following the other woman, but Logan focused on you, his mouth opening and closing a few times, though he didn’t speak. What do I even… Rather than saying anything, you closed your eyes, shaking your head back and forth before opening them again, gaze locked on Logan’s face. You mouthed the word “go”, reaching up to swipe beneath your eye with a knuckle, biting down on one corner of your lip, and while it was the last thing he wanted to do, Logan felt his shoulders slumping as he did what you asked. I hope she … hope she lets me explain, lets me apologize…

But Logan had the sinking feeling in his stomach that the friendship that the two of you had built up over the previous weeks had been damaged beyond repair due to Ariella’s interference - and the information he’d kept from you, despite the necessity of doing so.

---

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cdkwrites · 3 years

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fall from grace (6)

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean

When Atem from one of the high houses of Hell is discovered dying in the streets of 1920s Paris by a mysteriously kind angel, tensions of this old war spark when she elects to save his life. The devastating fall out of one simple act of kindness is more than enough to shatter the truce. Soon, it maybe be impossible to avoid the resulting war for all species on Earth.

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend

——-

cw: mentions of blood, self harm (kind of? there’s no scarring involved, it’s more like Allowing Oneself To Starve To Death), suicide idealization (nothing worse than you’d read in canon ygo), some artistic license re: european history espeically re: the french, violence

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five.

you can read it on ao3 here!

if you enjoy my work, considering supporting me through ko-fi!

From an interview with Katsuya Jonouchi, 1900s “I don’t know what to tell you. I was with Honda when all that happened.”

Dartz was on warpath. Jonouchi almost felt bad for Keket, who was currently the subject of Dartz’s rage. “Seems like Ket let that vampire go again,” Honda said as he joined Jonouchi in Jonouchi’s usual hiding spot. No one knew better than Honda how much Jonouchi disliked Dartz’s moods. “No wonder Dartz is angry.”

“I don’t get it,” Jonouchi said as he examined the terrain below them. High above the clouds, the mortals couldn’t see them but they could see the mortals. Jonouchi could understand why Dartz spent all his time in places like this. Mortal watching could be kind of fun at times. “What spell does that demon have over Keket? She’s normally so smart.”

“Enough about her,” Honda said as he waved off the discussion. Jonouchi turned to him, a brow raised. “How is Shizuka? Isn’t she your responsibility?”

Shizuka was Jonouchi’s latest charge and she was more than a handful. And yet Jonouchi already viewed her as a little sister. “She’s got her own ideas on how to be an angel,” Jonouchi said with an annoyed look on his face. Mortals souls that became angels all seemed to think they had everything figured out. “Unfortunately, guiding her has proven difficult.”

“I imagine so,” Honda said. Honda had already dealt with his own charge a few thousand years ago. He had claimed it had been one of the easiest things to do and that it was so rewarding. It had been part of why Jonouchi had been so willing to take on a charge of his own. “Some mortals who pass have a relatively big head that they take from life into the next form. Why, do you have issues with her?”

Jonouchi shrugged. He knew he should report that Shizuka asked just a little too many questions but he couldn’t bring himself to. He wondered if he had once been mortal, he’d have the same outlook on forever that Shizuka had. Shizuka had been horrified to learn that this was how her afterlife was to be spent and had asked if there were other options. Jonouchi did not know. “No,” he said, squashing the guilt aside from lying to Honda. “There’s no problem.”

He wondered if Honda saw through it.

From the journal of Sumiko Kubota: December 2, 1922, Paris I think my sister is being entirely too difficult. Surely there’s plenty of reason to stick around this shop. And not simply because Duke is utterly fascinating…

Sumiko hadn’t planned on staying in Paris. But Duke fascinated her so much that she had to stay for just a little bit longer. Sure, Kazuko was annoyed the longer they stayed but for once, Sumiko didn’t care. She was learning a lot about the world that her sister stumbled into. Duke spent most of his time either running the store front or in the kitchen.

Today she found him in a new place, however. Sumiko wasn’t sure how to describe the room she’d found herself in. For a minute, anyway. It was like the room was coming into sharp view, as if it had been hidden from her. All the bookcases went right to the ceiling and there was an ornate wooden table in the center of the room. He was humming and Sumiko was struck by how pretty he looked. He seemed relaxed. He looked from the book he’d had open on a podium and grinned. “Why, Sumiko,” Duke said as he gestured towards the chairs around the table. “I see you’ve found the library.”

This was not like any library Sumiko had ever been in. There was this sense that she was not supposed to be in here. And yet Sumiko pressed forward into the room, focusing on Duke. “I didn’t know this place existed.”

“The more time you spend in the supernatural, the more you become in tune with it,” Duke said as he turned to pull a book off the shelf behind him. “Most mortals have an innate sense of magic but spend their whole lives unaware of it. I figured eventually I would see you here.”

“But I was able to see the shop,” Sumiko said as Duke placed the book in front of her. It was in a language she couldn’t read. It was possible it was in French but Sumiko thought the writing looked too different from the signs in the area to be the same language. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Yugi has it set up so people who have had a single strange encounter with the mystical can see the shop,” Duke explained as he took a seat next to Sumiko with a sly grin on his face. Again Sumiko was reminded of a predator who had found its next meal. “However, the shop is so much larger than any mortal who is just dipping their toes into the supernatural can possibly imagine.”

“That reminds me,” Sumiko said, hesitant to ask the one thing she’d been curious about. “Why do you spend all your time here in this shop? Surely a demon such as yourself must get bored of it.”

Duke looked annoyed briefly. “I made a bet with Yugi a few years ago that if I lost a game to him, I’d be friends with him,” Duke said as he leaned back in his chair. “So now here I am, having to honor my end of the bargain. I still don’t know how he managed to win.”

“Powerful demon turned friend by a guy at least a foot shorter than you,” Sumiko remarked, a brow arching up. “How does that happen?”

“Must we talk about it,” Duke said with roll of his eyes. “I’d rather focus on teaching you some of the finer workings of magic.”

“You’re going to teach me magic?” Sumiko narrowed her eyes. “Kaz always says that nothing comes for free. What do you want?”

“That’s how mortals operate,” Duke said, sounding rather dismissive. “I’m not a mortal. I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Really?” Sumiko wasn’t sure she believed him. And yet, despite the fact it was a bad idea to make a deal with a demon, she found herself grinning. “I’ll trust you for now. But I’d be careful. My sister is mean and willing to go pretty far to protect me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you, Sumiko Kubota,” Duke said and Sumiko felt strange realizing she believed him. Trusting a demon with her life seemed like the worst kind of mistake she could make. And yet, with those brilliant emerald like eyes that sparkled with promise, how could Duke be anything but an angel?

From the logs of Rafael, soldier of Destiny, keeper of Justice:1900s Master Dartz seems keenly aware that there is a growing problem with Keket. I am unsure if this is the correct solution, however. Yet I know that asking questions merely leads to more problems….

Rafael wanted to ask Keket if all this was worth it. He never thought she’d lose her mind over some demon. And yet she was. Three times now Keket had failed to kill the vampire. Dartz was pacing the length of the room and the anger radiating off him. “There has to be a way to deal with this,” Dartz muttered, clearly not expecting any answers from Rafael. Rafael glanced towards the multiple views of Earth. One of the views was fixated directly on Keket, who hadn’t moved from her house on Earth since the incident. “She has gotten far too attached to this vampire.”

“Surely we can take him out,” Rafael said, confused as to why Dartz simply wouldn’t just order him to deal with it. Rafael still owed Keket. She’d saved his life in that battle so many eons ago. He recalled how she’d moved with grace through that battlefield. “I can do it. I owe her one.”

“Yes, you do,” Dartz said with a side glance at Rafael. Instantly Rafael felt like he’d made a misstep. Dartz seemed to prize strength and many times, Rafael felt he came up short. Perhaps that was why he was itching to prove he was capable. “But would you even be capable of helping her? Perhaps you might need to start with a smaller target.”

And a file appeared out of nowhere, landing at Rafael’s feet. Rafael hesitated for a moment before picking it up. Instantly, he recognized the demon that Dartz was suggesting. “This is that vampire’s father,” Rafael said, almost stunned. The name had been what Rafael read first - Akhenamkhanen. It would be impossible to forget that name. “How is this a smaller target?”

“I thought you were strong,” Dartz remarked with a strange inflection in his tone. “But if you’re too weak for the task, I’m certain one of the other angels could take care of it.”

Rafael looked at the file again. A demon who was king of his realm, who had been alive for thousands of years. It was a task that even the best of angels would struggle with. He tried to imagine himself actually doing the act. “No,” Rafael said as he passed the file back. “I can do it.”

Still, the rumblings of regret were already starting to build in Rafael’s chest. Doubt coursed through him. But what choice did he have?

From the journals of Anzu Mazaki: Paris, December 23, 1922 Bakura arrived at the theater today. I had been unaware that he even knew where I worked. Curiously, however, I found myself not minding that he had shown up…

The candles were such a dim light to read by, Anzu thought absently. She held the script closer, trying to read the words on the page but not really absorbing them. Her mind was elsewhere. She was focused heavily on remembering the last time Bakura had come around. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered that his hands were sure and the smirk he’d worn. “Miss Gardner,” came a voice like silk from behind her. She glanced up into the mirror, already knowing that she wouldn’t see him reflected back at her. The shadows moved in the mirror, however, and this gave her an idea of where he was. “Shouldn’t you have memorized that already?”

“Maybe I should,” Anzu said, grinning as she turned to face Bakura. White paired so lovely with his skin tone, she thought to herself. She’d never say that out loud to him, though. He had a big enough ego as it was. Then again… “What’s it to you what I have memorized?”

“Why, Anzu,” Bakura said, sounding wounded as he reached out to cup her cheek. His finger rubbed along her lower lip and her lips parted slightly. “You know I deeply care about what goes on in your mundane mortal life.”

“Do you?” She liked the dangerous glint in his eye that he got every time she challenged him. She leaned forward, tilting her head up to give him a hint that she wanted him to kiss her. “Is this why you won’t tell me how to become a vampire? You’d miss my stories of my mortal life?”

“No,” Bakura admitted as he pulled Anzu into a standing position. He yanked her closer to him, his hand wrapped around her wrist. “But because it's a rather scary story.” His grin promised something dark and it thrilled Anzu to her very core. “Can you handle that?”

“I can handle just about anything you throw my way, darling,” she said, unsure where that came from. He was so close and his teeth were so near her neck. Near enough to take a bite out of her. “I want to know everything about you.”

His hand was under her jaw, a finger tracing out her jawline. He yanked her back to him and Anzu let out a soft gasp. Her head tilted, allowing him access. Her arm was pinned behind her back and yet she felt no fear. Being bound by him was thrilling. A veneer of having no choice and yet… Anzu would rather be in no other position. She knew he’d let go if she merely said one word - just one. “Do you?” Bakura asked, his lips pressing to her neck. “I would think you’d be done with talking by now.”

She was tempted to say that of course she was done with talking before reality sat back in. “You promised me a scary story,” Anzu said softly, doing her best to ignore how his strong hands felt so nice on her. “I want to know - how does one become a vampire?”

Bakura stilled. For a moment, Anzu wondered if he would leave her frustrated and in need of release. “It’s not pretty,” he finally said. “You mortals have such romantic notions. I’m trying to protect you, Anzu.”

He so rarely used her name. The last time he used it, he had been warning her that she should go find a mortal boy instead. She’d insisted then she didn’t care about the potential heartbreak they could face. He’d merely smiled and said it was on her own head if she got in that deep. “What if I don’t want to be protected?”

A heartbeat passed and he released her arm. She was almost disappointed until his hand was placed on her hip. His forehead pressed against her shoulder and he let out a weary sigh. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

“Fine,” he said and Anzu couldn’t pin down his tone. “I was turned thousands of years ago. It was a mistake, of course. Akhandin never meant to turn me. I was a poor thief who no one would miss. He stole me and my mother in the dead night from our village.” He sounded far away and Anzu felt a surge of affection. She tried to picture Bakura as human. Then she tried to picture what Bakura’s mother might look like. “The blood was drained from the bodies and stored in jars for later consumption.”

He spun her around, staring deep into her eyes. Anzu wondered if his eyes were always blood red like that. “So does that mean part of becoming a vampire involves being drained of blood?”

“Yes but there’s a particular order,” Bakura said with a sly smirk. “I fought back and got a bit of Akhandin. Turns out, because I got a bit of him… it was enough to start the change.” He leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. His teeth glinted somehow in the lowlight. “Can you guess what that bit of him it was?”

Anzu raised a brow. “You tell me,” she said, trying her best to not sound breathless. Already she had a hunch and was trying to picture the process. “I’ve just stumbled my way into the supernatural, remember?”

He took her hand in his and pressed a quick kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Blood, my dear,” he said, his tongue pressed against her skin. “I managed to bite him hard enough to take blood. And when that happened, why… him draining me of blood set the wheels of fate in motion. My heart ceased beating and when I awoke, I was filled with thirst.” There was now a manic glint in his eyes. “So thirsty… I drank all the jars he’d stored for later. He hadn’t been expecting to find me there. I fled.”

“What about your mother?” It was, on the surface, an innocent question. However, the pained look on his face told another story. Her stomach dropped. “Bakura?”

“I didn’t know at the time,” he said, as if looking for absolution from her. Anzu had never seen this look on Bakura’s face before. She’d seen so many ways to be looked at but this face… It was almost worshipful. Like a sinner pleading for mercy from a crucifix. “At the time… I was just… so thirsty, Anzu.” He was gripping her hand so tight. “I didn’t know he’d already drained her. And I didn’t… I was a coward.”

The pieces clicked together and Anzu stumbled back. She landed in her chair and he was kneeling before her, begging for her to understand. Of course she understood. “It’s not like you meant to,” she said, reaching out to cup his jaw. “Does that mean… when you’re turned…”

“It’s like an animal taking over you,” Bakura said, leaning against her touch. “The pain, too… It’s more than just a desire for blood. It destroys you. Can’t you see now? I want to spare you that pain, Anzu.”

From the journal of Prince Atem, domain of vampires: London, January 1st, 1923 I hate that angel. I wish she’d never entered my life. She’s ruined it forever.

The phone rang twice before Atem answered it. “Hey,” Atem answered as he examined his throat. He was surprised that there wasn’t even a scar. It was like nothing had happened. “This is Atem. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Atem, it’s Mahad,” came the voice from the other end of the line. Atem straightened up. Mahad typically didn’t call unless it was important. “Before you hang up, I promise that I’m not calling to drag you back to the palace.”

“You wound me, brother,” Atem said, distracted by the shattered pieces of mirror still all over the floor. He needed to take care of it but couldn’t bring himself to. He was obsessing. That angel had entered his home and attacked him violently. And he was obsessed, wondering why she’d done it. “I would never hang up on you.”

“You hung up on me last time I called,” Mahad pointed out, sounding weary already. Instantly Atem felt bad. The last time Mahad called, Atem was just a little too frustrated. He wouldn’t have hung up otherwise. “That’s not what I’m calling about though, young prince.”

“Are you trying to get me to hang up on you?”

“Not at all,” Mahad said and Atem could almost hear the smile in Mahad’s voice. “Merely showing respect, young prince.” A beat passed before he hesitantly continued, “However… something has come up that you need to know.”

“Need to know,” Atem remarked as he picked up the bloodied shard of mirror. She’d shoved it deep in his throat and attempted to hack him apart. He’d reacted by draining her blood mindlessly. And her blood had created a surge through him that he hadn’t known was possible. Was that not something he needed to know? “That reminds me, I have something I need to ask.”

“This is more important,” Mahad said and Atem noticed that he was trying too hard to sound gentle. There was no teasing, no ribbing. The last time Mahad had been this gentle, Atem found himself in mourning. He somehow knew what Mahad was going to say before he said it. “Your father is dead, young prince.”

And just like that, Atem’s entire world was tilted on its axis. “Father’s dead?”

#fic: fall from grace

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arlingtonpark · 4 years

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SNK 134 Review

Thank you. Thank you so much. This means so much to me.

(Ofc this chapter is called “In the Depths of Despair.”)

Sigh.

So, I guess I have to have an opinion on this chapter now.

For a while there, it looked like SNK had made the right choice.

Eren was the asshole. He was insubordinate, ungrateful, uncooperative, and above all else, a fucking sociopath. Cool, got it. One and done.

But then his friends started talking about how it was really their fault he’s doing this.

Ok, that’s fine. They’re desperate to stop him, so they’re just saying whatever they think will ingratiate themselves with Eren and help talk him down. Dynamics like that are very common in abusive relationships.

Now we arrive at this chapter, where even random people are saying Eren is a victim *as he is murdering them!*

It is patently absurd that Eren is having a warranted or natural or reasonable reaction to what he’s been through.

If Eren were a better person, he would have known that mass murder against the Eldians was wrong because mass murder is wrong. Unfortunately, Eren is a fundamentally amoral person. The only moral compass he has to guide him is a childish belief in “you hit me, so I get to hit you.”

He’s said as much on multiple occasions. He has said, “If someone tries to take my freedom away, I will take their freedom away.”

Instead of being the better man and ending the killing, his solution was to kill more people than them, faster and on a larger scale.

I think the clearest picture of Eren’s worldview was given when he spoke to Historia. He said the only way to end the cycle of violence was to destroy the whole world.

That is Eren’s deeply felt belief: there can be no peace or coexistence; the only way to win is to be the last man standing.

This mindset is so natural to him that he will even kill his friends for opposing him.

He told them that they were free to oppose him, and he was free to fight back. That’s how he justifies killing them to himself. They have the choice to oppose him, so if he fights back and kills them, it’s their fault they died, not his, because they could have made the choice to flee and live, but decided to stand and die.

In reality, the alliance is fulfilling a moral duty to protect life, while Eren is an asshole who has killed billions.

The series wasn’t kind to Eren about that. He was depicted as a cheering child as he murdered everyone. The Rumbling was not white washed either. The take away was obviously that Eren’s decision was not the product of a sound mind.

And yet.

Now I have to wonder if the series is seriously trying to say the Rumbling embodies some form of justice.

There are multiple layers to this issue, so let’s start at the surface level.

So in what is obviously a ham-fisted attempt by Isayama to lecture the audience about morality, a Random Commander Guy filibusters about the ills cast by the Marleyans on the Eldians and how this has rebounded back at them.

It is generally considered good writing for characters to get their just desserts. If someone sells drugs to kids, you expect something bad to happen to them. If someone helps a kid cross the street, you expect something good to happen to them.

What’s different between a generic case of just desserts in a story and this chapter in SNK is that the dessert is typically delivered through some nebulous, karmic force, rather than a vengeful twerp with God-like powers.

When the drug dealer’s car blows up, it’s karmic fate, not revenge.

The car doesn’t blow up because one of the kids devoted his life to exacting revenge, it’s because the car just blows up for no reason, or because something completely unrelated to the dealer causes a bomb to be planted in the car, or the dealer brought it on themselves by getting caught up with terrorists.

People may or may not deserve to suffer, but it’s fine to show people suffering if you’re just trying to make a point about how people should act.

Eren’s a different case. For several reasons.

To help untangle why, let’s think about the death penalty.

The death penalty is an example of retributive justice. Put simply, it’s the idea that retribution can be morally just.

The Rumbling is immoral precisely because it is something a supporter of retributive justice would emphatically NOT support.

Most supporters of the death penalty would justify it as an act by a legitimate societal authority. Eren is not that.

Eren is not an authority figure. He does not speak for the Eldian people and has no right to exact this genocide on their behalf. No one made him King of the Eldians. It’s not his place to decide what’s in the Eldian’s best interest.

Also, killing people because “it’s what the scumbag deserves” is usually justified because it’s a sentence for a crime handed down in a legal process.

Rights can be taken away, but not arbitrarily. Transparency is an important part of this. Acts that are a crime are public knowledge, as well as the prescribed punishments. The criminal law is also supposed to apply to everyone equally, not selectively. To say nothing of the law itself being duly enacted by a legitimate governmental authority.

The same principles apply to the process by which a right is taken away. The process must be laid out in a law that was duly enacted by a legitimate government authority, applies to everyone, and is publicly known.

Eren’s process, of *fucking* course, is nothing like this. Eren has no legitimate authority. He’s a Guy With an Opinion who bumbled into attaining absolute power, and now he’s acting on that Opinion.

He not the government punishing a convict. He’s a guy with a gun shooting people he doesn’t like. The Rumbling is not just retribution, it’s just murder.

Commander Guy says that if they knew this would happen, they would have acted differently.

That’s a good point.

Why the fuck do they deserve to die, then?

To some extent, everyone’s worse impulses are kept in check by the knowledge that there will be consequences if they act rashly.

But it’s not just that.

Laws are public knowledge for a reason: it’s fair. If you know your act is a crime and that performing said act will result in a certain punishment, then by committing the act anyway you have tacitly accepted whatever punishment will be meted out.

The moral onus is placed on you.

This is why knowledge that you are committing a crime is necessary to be convicted of a crime.

In principle, the case with the Marleyans is the same. Is it fair to punish someone for an act they did not know would carry that punishment? No.

They may know the act was immoral, but that is not the same thing as knowing it will lead directly to their death.

And needless to say, but you only deserve to be punished for an act if you deserve to be punished for that act. The Marleyans do not deserve to be punished for that act.

There are multiple ways a wrong can be righted. There are punitive ways, in which the perpetrator is harmed outright. There are also restorative ways, in which the victim is compensated for the harm done to them, usually at the expense of the perpetrator.

I have already explained why Eren lacks the authority to pass judgement on the world, and that the process by which he made his decision was completely illegitimate, but it needs to be said that this punishment is totally improper in itself.

Wiping out humanity is purely punitive. To use the obvious analogy, I don’t think any sane person would argue white people deserve to be punished for racism. Supporters of racial justice usually talk about restorative, rather than punitive, forms of justice, like reparations.

The Rumbling does not make the Eldians whole again. It does not restore their trampled dignity. It is purely an act of vengeance.

Casting it as some kind of deserving retribution is crazy.

Oh, and, you know, suffering is bad, so retributive justice is wrong even disregarding everything I just said.

You could theoretically believe life is a miracle, but that people forfeit that right if they act wrongly…it’s not something many people would support.

If Dino!Eren had been depicted as a random force of nature that visited ruination upon humanity, we could have potentially gotten a good story about how hatred leads to no good outcomes. Like how Godzilla is a metaphor for the ills of nuclear weapons.

Instead we get a nihilistic tale about two sides punching each other until one keels over dead. And somehow the one that keels over deserved it.

What makes it nihilistic is that you could easily reverse it. What if right before Eren destroys Fort Salta, aliens invade the Earth and help the Marleyans.

Now the Eldians are on the verge of annihilation and *Eldian* Commander Guy gets his turn to say “Woe is us who surrendered to hate. We deserve this.”

There is no right side or wrong side. No deserving side or innocent side. The Eldians were cheering for genocide the same as the Marleyans. The difference is the Eldians had a God on their side.

The morality of this series is just all over the place.

The Alliance and Eren are equally sinful, but now Eren is an agent of karmic destiny and his victims “deserve it.”

There isn’t much to talk about this chapter besides that.

Armin still hopes to take Eren alive, but good luck with that.

Eren can manifest other titans from his body, which is cool I guess, though it’s pretty clear this power only exists to give the Alliance things to fight.

There were a lot of allusions to parenthood this chapter. The baby and the cliff. Reiner’s mom realizing how shitty she’s been. Historia’s pregnancy. The Commander Guy saying it’s the fault of “us adults.” The numerous shots emphasizing the kids at Fort Salta.

Child abuse is a common theme of SNK. And not just parental abuse, but societal abuse, too. Children are the victims of individual foibles and broader social ills, like racism and police brutality.

The cycle of violence at the heart of the series’ conflict is bad for everyone, but the story emphasizes that it is bad for children in particular. It harms them, and leads to a world that is worse off for them.

If there’s one takeaway from SNK, it’s that we should think of the children. Adults shouldn’t just take care of their kids, they should fix broader social issues, if not for themselves then for the children’s sake.

It’s a fucking insult.

Historia’s pregnancy is all but confirmed here. There’s no way it’s fake. There may have been motive to fake being pregnant, but there is no fucking way she’d have a reason to fake *birth*.

I always leaned towards the pregnancy being real, so that didn’t get to me. What gets me is that Historia is just…there. On Paradis. On the sidelines.

Not only was Historia, who is the only likable female character in this show now, impregnated, she’s also been MIA most the last two story arcs.

I had thought Isayama was saving her for the finale. Surely, Isayama understands that if you sideline a major character for no reason, they have to come into play at some point, I thought. Surely.

Characters are tools; they exist to be used. So use them.

But no, it seems Historia is legit not going to be a thing in this final battle. My dreams of the domineering boss saving the day are dashed.

But what really messes with me is how shafted Historia has been since basically the end of the Uprising Arc.

Historia’s only contribution to the plot after Uprising, but before the pregnancy was making the disastrous decision to make the truth of the world public, which paved the way for Paradis society to become radicalized and back Eren’s coup.

She has done nothing other than that.

Obviously her pregnancy will have thematic importance, but at this point the best Historia stans can hope for is that she’s the main character in the epilogue.

I’ve always assumed the pregnancy was the product of a loving relationship. For all his incompetence with Historia, I was willing to assume Isayama would not force her to carry a forcibly impregnated child to term.

And you know that even if the child is the product of rape, Historia will still have to say she loves and accepts them as her child and will raise them lovingly, with no regard or acknowledgement of the trauma of having to raise a child born out of her being raped.

Because the theme of the story.

All life is a miracle.

All children deserve to be loved.

Even if it was rape.

Except it’s more complicated than that, and I’m terrified to think that Isayama may not understand that.

So for now, I choose to presume that Historia is pregnant because she loves someone, decided to have a family with them, and we’re being led to believe she was raped for shock value.

But arguably more important is what this means for the queer audience.

Historia’s first love interest was another woman.

She’s queer. A lesbian. A dyke. What have you.

Now you’re telling me she either loves a man, or was not only raped, but has to love and accept the child that results from that trauma?

And for what?

So we can end the manga on a speech by Historia moralizing about the value of posterity?

Historia stands at the nexus of two subjects in this manga: the value of posterity and the denigration of queer people.

It is very homophobic of this series to pair a queer character with a dude to affirm a message about the value of children and motherhood.

As if queer people can’t have children.

We seem to be headed down that path.

It didn’t have to be like this.

Queer people can have children through artificial insemination. And artificial insemination is conceivable with Paradis’ current level of technological development.

Isayama is choosing to do this because queer people are not a part of his vision of a world where people, especially children, are able to live free.

That’s very sad, because it shows how empty SNK’s morals are.

So who’s the slave here?

Who here is truly free?

The ones who are free are the ones who aren’t reading Attack on Titan anymore.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk 134 #snk chapter 134 #spoilers

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crystalgirl259 · 4 years

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The Flame and the Dragon Ch19

Chapter 19: The Gift

The cold wind bit mercilessly at Kai's exposed neck and cheeks. It had been snowing heavily for almost a week and snow blanketed the landscape once the blizzard ceased. Thick icicles hung from the balconies and roofs of the castle, and snow caked the roofs and towers. But the frosted surface, open fields of white hills, and frosted trees created the perfect environment for the playful staff. White, fluffy snow crunched loudly beneath his fur-lined paddock boots.

Harumi gave Kai a new pair of thick leather riding breeches and a long-sleeved, form-fitting, dark crimson turtleneck.

Over the outfit, he wore a long, red fur coat that covered most of his skinny frame. Soft fur tickled his skin and snuggly hugged the warmth to his body while the leather exterior managed to block any wind that dared try and penetrate it. Kai spun around a couple of times admiring the new coat from all angles and wondering what Cole would think if he saw him in it. Flame trotted beside him, overjoyed to see his master again. Nelson was running around the castle grounds with them, excited to see and touch a real-life horse for the first time in over a century.

The stallion was happy to let the boy pet him and ride on his back.

He always loved attention, just like his owner. The horse suddenly snorted into Kai's spikey hair and rubbed against his arms. He sniffed Kai's jacket and started digging through it Kai laughed at the treatment and pulled a juicy red apple from his pocket. He grinned as Flame's dark eyes lit up and he carefully snatched the apple from his master's hand and devoured the tasty treat. When he was finished he licked Kai's cheek, making the teen laugh loudly.

None of them noticed Cole admiring them from the balcony, watching the stallion triumphantly gallop across the snow-covered plains.

A small smile was on Cole's face when he watched Flame play with Kai and Nelson. His main focus was on his captive, though once in his thoughts the word no longer seemed appropriate. He felt a small jump in his chest when Kai smiled and laugh when Nelson tried racing Flame. Cole realized that was the first time he'd ever truly seen Kai smile or laugh. The teenager smiled brilliantly and laughed alongside Nelson as he had never before experienced something so enjoyable in his life.

It was a stark contrast to the feisty character he'd become accustomed to.

Just the sight of Kai's warm smile he'd kept hidden from him melted Cole's frozen heart. His breath hitched being suddenly exposed to the most innocent and blissful side of the otherwise resolute and world-hardened young man. For a brief moment, Cole would've given anything to have Kai smile at him like that. Subconsciously, his hand touched his bandaged torso beneath his opened coat. He hadn't bothered wearing a shirt under it, in case Kai insisted he changes the bandages again.

The wound had fully healed by now.

It had taken much longer than he thought it would have, and had no doubt it could've been a lot worse, had it not been for the teen's persistence. Cole had never felt this way before. His claws subconsciously moved to his chest as if feeling his heartbeat for the first time as it thundered in his chest. He sighed in frustration and started back towards his room, and down the stairs. Cole collapsed into his favorite chair at the head of the dining room table and sank to the seat.

His hands started massaging his temples in a desperate act to help him think but it did little to help.

His attention turned to the wide window, the curtains were drawn open. He could only faintly see the dots of his captive and his servants, but that perfect smile Kai had worn so effortlessly burned vividly in his mind. He sighed and collapsed his upper body against the table. A small stab of pain filled his chest at the realization that he was probably the only one who hadn't had the honor of seeing Kai smile like that. Or maybe he had and didn't realize it.

He had felt this foreign emotion for reasons he assumed was simply because he hadn't had time to focus on them.

When he saw Kai today, playing in the snow with Nelson he'd normally just think it was childish or idiotic when the only thing they'll do is get cold and wet, but he'd never felt this way before. Like he'd do anything to him smile like that all the time. With that thought, Cole rose to his feet, eyes bright with determination. He wanted to do something for him and not as a thank you or a repayment, just for the hell of it. He'd heard through the grapevine that Kai loved books, though the statement didn't surprise him.

It seemed natural that Kai would possess an artistic soul.

An idea formed in Cole's mind, forming a grin. With that, he turned around and burst from the room, radiating an aura that could rival the people playing outside in the snow...

****************

After putting Flame back in the stables and Nelson had said goodbye because he had some chores to do, Kai had intended to go and find someplace to get warmed up again and rid the cold from his bones. That is until Cole suddenly pulled him aside and said that he had something to show the teen. Kai was confused by that, but his curiosity won and he followed close behind the Dragon Lord as they walked to his surprise. Neither of them said anything.

It was like when Kai first arrived at the castle, but there was now hardly any tension between them.

Kai recognized the way to the ballroom, only instead of entering, Cole continued walking, so Kai followed him. The brunette looked around at the area of the castle he had yet to explore. Large curtains pooled like waterfalls of gold and silver around the enormous windows. The pale moonlight poured through them illuminating the different posed dragon statues standing in between each window. The hallway ended in front of two curved-shaped ivory doors outlined in gold, beneath a glittering emerald tapestry embroidered with a huge silver tree.

Cole suddenly came to a stop and Kai barely managed to stop walking straight into the hybrid's back.

He opened his mouth to speak, but again was cut off, this time by a sudden blackness wrapping around his eyes.

"Cole, what are you doing?" He asked as his hands instinctively moved to remove the blindfold, but Cole stopped him.

"It's a surprise, and I can't have you spoiling it by peeking." He said, loosely tying the cloth securely around Kai's eyes. He kept his paw on Kai's hands. Kai sighed and let Cole guide him.

"Can't you trust me by now? What if I promise not to open my eyes?"

"I do trust you, but I also know your curiosity has a nasty little habit of always getting the better of you." He admitted. The scream of wooden doors opening filled Kai's ears. Temporarily blinded, he let Cole guide him inside the mysterious room. They stopped in the middle of the room, and Cole let go of his hands.

"Can I take this thing off now?" Kai said more impatiently than he meant to sound, but there was anxiousness that didn't go unnoticed by Cole.

"Not yet." He whispered. A swoop sound and a gust of wind was his only warning, followed by the screech of reeling curtain holders. The light brightened the darkness covering his eyes and Kai wondered if that was moonlight.

"Now?" He asked with the anticipation of a child waiting for a birthday present. A loud thump was his answer.

"Now," Cole said as he carefully cut the blindfold and moved so he could see Kai's reaction. Kai kept his eyes closed for a second, momentarily fearing what he was going to see but his enthusiasm won and they slowly opened, then bulged with joy. A gasp of delight escaped his mouth and his cheeks flushed with happiness. He spun around taking in the wonder around him and resisted the urge to pinch himself in case he was dreaming all of this.

"This is incredible!" Kai breathed, his amber eyes alive and bright with childish wonder as they took in his special surprise. He was in the largest, most magnificent library he had ever seen. The room was enormous and rectangular with a roof that curved to a slope. Books lined all four of the walls so tall ladders were placed on them in intervals. The shelves were separated only by two enormous stained glass windows stretching all the way to the ceiling.

The moonlight illuminating them in a way the sunlight never could.

In the corner, an elegant golden staircase with spiral patterns carved into the wooden banisters spiraled to a second floor, an entire open circle overlooking the first floor. The bookcases on the second level, looped together like a giant circle stopping just at the base of a huge mural painted in rich detail upon the ceiling. A midnight blue dotted with silver stars with bigger ones forming constellations, whose true forms were painted in brilliant gold lines.

On the ground floor, globes were dotted around as well as several couches and chairs.

Two or three large desks made from giant smoothed slabs of stone made a suitable workstation on either side of the room. Two bookcases stretched from the walls stood on either side of an enormous white marble fireplace trimmed with gold and interline with black onyx. Just above it behind the banister of the second floor rested another huge stain glass window. Only this one was arched and was decorated with the symbol for the Tree of Knowledge.

But what stunned Kai the most were the books.

They were different from the ones he was used to. Each book was an antique, bound in velvet, leather, or hardcovers with thick hinges. Some had locks while others had jewels embedded in the cover. Older volumes had simple plain leather or velvet coverings with only the title on the side. Others were painted a vibrant blue, red or green. Age had dulled the colors, but none of them lost their wisdom. Upon closer inspection, he noticed each elegantly carved bookcase had a sliding glass cover protecting the books from air and moisture.

Even the second floor has multiple glass doors despite the circular shape, showing him these books had not just been well-used but loved and cared for.

Kai practically jumped with excitement, before bolting around and pouncing on Cole in a hug so sudden he almost fell over.

"I take it you like it?" He laughed.

"I love it! I've never seen so many books in my life, or such an amazing place, I mean look at this!" The teen beamed as he raced around like a kid in a candy store, admiring each shelf, each globe, each desk, the fireplace, then bolting up the spiral staircase and exploring the entire top section. He moved so fast Cole got dizzy following him.

"Thank you!" Kai smiled when he came back downstairs, and hugged him tightly. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"I'm glad you enjoy it." Cole's smile brightened. Kai's face was almost an exact mirror of the one he'd seen earlier. "Because it's yours." He added and Kai gasped in shock. He examined the hybrid's face for any hint of lies, but when he saw none, the brunette squealed in delight as he wrapped Cole in a tight hug.

"Oh, thank you so much!"...

#The Flame and the Dragon #beauty and the beast #ninjago #lavashipping #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago jay #ninjago zane #ninjago lloyd #ninjago nya #ninjago nelson #ninjago tox #ninjago shade #ninjago neuro #ninjago echo #ninjago harumi #ninjago morro

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zodiyack · 5 years

Text

Twist And Shout

Requested: Anonymous; More Cameron Frye? Like maybe the first time he realizes he has feelings for his girl?

Pairing: Cameron Frye x reader

Warnings: Soft!Cam, worried!Cam, Ferris embarrassing Cameron, song lyrics, SPOILERS TO FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF

P.O.V: authors

Quick Disclaimer: Get comfy, it’s a long one. But I did the best I could on it, I hope you like it!

two songs are included in this; Danke Schoen and Twist And Shout

masterlist

Ferris had just convinced Cameron to come over and call Mr. Rooney to get Sloane and y/n out of school, scaring the man in the process. A nurse was sent to pick up the girls from class, the nurse now racing to their classroom. Then informing Sloane of her “Grandmother’s death.” Sloane giving a genuine reaction to the news while y/n was... well she was bit confused.

“That is unfortunate.. but I’m sorry.. I don’t understand what this has to do with me?”

The nurse looked over at her, eyebrows furrowed. “Well Mr. Peterson says you are a family friend and that you are to be pulled out with Sloane here, you guys have some family business to attend to. Am I not correct?”

“Uh.. I’ll just go with what you’re saying.” Y/n reached over and gave Sloane a side hug as they walked out to the front of the school to meet with the dean. “You okay?”

The young girl nodded and opened the door, greeting Mr. Rooney with a kind smile. Y/n decided to wait on the lowest step, putting in her earbuds to her Walkman and watching the road for Mr. Peterson’s car. Mr. Rooney was trying to make small talk with the other teen, her expressions showing her boredom. When a bus passed by, a red car was in the middle of the road. Both female’s eyes widened in realization, Sloane smiling when Ferris stepped out in disguise.

“Oh Sloane dear, y/n darling? Hurry along now.” He made a gesture to the car with his head.

Y/n got up and raced to the car, hoping in the middle of the front, hearing a grunt behind her. “Cam is that you?”

“Yep. Could you like.. move? Forward a bit? Thank you.” She did as Cameron asked, reaching down into her backpack to avoid being suspicious. A few moments later Sloane walked down the steps, sharing an awkward moment with Ferris by the car.

“Hi!”

“Do you have a kiss for daddy?”

“Are you kidding?”

Y/n groaned and went back to digging through her bag as soon as the couple started to make-out on the spot. ‘Disgusting and suspicious.’ Could it get any worse? Oh yeah, there was hardly enough room in the car. Sloane got in and sat next to y/n, leaning over when she noticed Cameron.

“Hi Cam, you comfortable?”

“Hi Sloane. No.” The two girls giggled slightly, Cameron reaching forward and pinching y/n’s hips causing her to giggle more. Ferris entered the car, dropping the Mr. Peterson act a little.

“So, what are we gonna do today?” Sloane was excited for adventure, also relived her grandma hadn’t actually died.

“The question isn’t what are we going to do today, it’s what aren’t we going to do today.”

Cameron regretted letting Ferris take the car at that exact moment, his mumbling of “Please don’t say we aren’t going to take the care home.” ignored once Ferris sped out of the school lot and out into the road. Y/n was given more space to sit once Cameron came out from under the backseat cover, probably frightened of how his dad would react to his car in Ferris’ hands.

. . .

By now, Ferris had put the car in a parking garage and tricked a restaurant into believing he was The Sausage King Of Chicago, Abe Froman. Y/n glanced at Cameron with a smile and a raised eyebrow as they were being seated. Cameron smirked back at her with a wide smile and raised both his eyebrows.

“Darling,” Ferris leaned towards Sloane, “You are wonderful.” Clink. They clicked their glasses together, Ferris now looking at Y/n. “Gumdrop,” The nickname the group dubbed y/n, “Thank you for joining us on our quest of fun today.” Finally, he looked over to Cameron, who was chugging his water to avoid conversing with Ferris. “Cameron, dear friend. You thought we wouldn’t have fun. Shame on you.”

Cam glared at Ferris for a few seconds but returned to skimming the menu.

After the group got their food, Ferris left to use the bathroom talking to the people watching the movie. The other three teens began to eat, Cam and Y/n occasionally making faces at each other and showing their mouths full of food. It wasn’t new, for the two to do weird things at or with each other, in fact they did it so much that Sloane and Ferris had a bet on who would ask who out or if they even had feelings for each other. Alas, it was a one sided love, Cameron didn’t think of Y/n really as anything else but a close friend.

. . .

Cameron pushed through the crowd, guiding an obviously annoyed Sloane. “They didn’t leave, they’re probably doing something!”

“No, it really busts my hump, ya know?”

“Awh Cameron, they didn’t ditch us or anything, they’re here.”

“Ay for all we know, they went back to school.”

Sloane rolled her eyes, it was clear that Ferris got them out of school for a reason. “They would not go back to school.”

“Well yeah Ferris would do it, he’d do it just to make me sweat.”

“No, he would not, Cameron come on.”

“Makes me mad..”

Of course Cam had been right about Ferris doing something just to get a reaction out of him, so the unexpected happened. “Ladies and gentlemen, you’re such a wonderful crowd. We’d like to play a little tune for you.” Sloane and Cameron stopped walking, becoming aware of Ferris’ voice coming out of the speaker. “It’s one of my personal favorites, and I’d like to dedicate it to a young man who doesn’t think he’s seen anything good today.” Both of them turned around, now facing the float. “Cameron Frye, this one’s for you.”

A circle of 6 women holding hands stepped off the platform, revealing Ferris with a microphone, lipsynching to Danke Schoen by Wayne Newton. Cameron and Sloane yelled out at him, “Ayy!” “Ferris, get off of the float!” “What are you doing!?” “How’d you get up there?!” They walked up to it, only to get pushed back into the crowd by an officer.

“We still don’t know where y/n is Sloane.” Cameron started to worry, picturing multiple possibilities to where she could be or what could have happened to her.

“She’ll be fine, she’s probably watching the float too. Are you alright?”

He shook his head, why did he care so much? They were just friends, weren’t they? ‘Yeah... just friends. Friends can worry about friends. That’s normal..right?’ Cameron swore he’d never been so confused, shaking off his thoughts to talk to Sloane while they walked. “You know, as long as I’ve known him, everything works for him. There’s nothing he can’t handle. I can’t handle anything.” He looked down, listing off the things he felt insecure about. “School, parents, future...” He shook his head again, “Ferris can do anything.”

Sloane gave him a worried but comforting look, continuing to listen when he spoke again, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Collage.” She smiled at him, giving her best attempt to cheer him up. He smiled back at her, nodding.

“Yeah.. but to do what?”

“What are you interested in?”

He immediately pictured y/n, her warming smile and smooth hands. The clothing she wore that he found adorable, but always brushed off as her attire being nice. The giggle that made his day, the hug that made him feel safe and at home. Thoughts of y/n flooded his mind, his smile growing wider. “Nothing.”

He looked down at Sloane and held eye contact for a few seconds before she laughed and shook her head, Cam chuckling as well. “Me neither.” They stopped walking and watched Ferris dance on the float, waving at the audience.

“You’re crazy!” Cameron shouted at him as the song ended, letting out a small laugh to what he’d said.

“What do you think Ferris is gonna do?”

Another song started, y/n stepping out from her hiding spot and joining Ferris while Cam and Sloane were distracted talking.

Well shake it up baby now (Shake it up baby)

The crowd started to dance, some singing along. People stopping what they were doing to dance and enjoy the happy moment.

Twist and shout! (Twist and shout)

C’mon , c’mon, c’mon, c’mon baby now! (Come on baby)

C'mon and work it on out! (Work it on out)

Y/n and Ferris lipsynched into their microphones, altering from facing each other to facing the audience every once in a while. Y/n making sure to look at Cameron when she wasn’t turned towards Ferris. Her smile was filled with true joy. Little did she know, so was Cameron’s.

Ooh! Work it on out honey! (Work it on out)

You know you look so good! (Look so good)

You know you got me goin’ now, (Got me goin’)

Just like I knew you would! (Like I knew you would)

Ooooo

Well shake it up baby now! (Shake it up baby)

Twist and shout! (Twist and shout)

Cameron’s feet were tapping to the music, aching to dance along with Y/n, maybe even switch places with Ferris on the float. She was dancing more than lipsynching, but no one could tell except for Cam. His eyes flicking around her body, eventually focusing mostly on her lips. It was the first time he’d noticed how soft they looked, the first time he consciously found himself wanting to kiss them. Would they be as soft as they looked? And had he wondered that before?

C’mon, c’mon, c'mon, c'mon baby now! (Come on baby)

Come on and work it on out! (Work it on out)

You know you twist your little girl! (Twist, little girl)

You know you twist so fine! (Twist so fine)

C’mon on twist a little closer now! (Twist a little closer)

A finger belonging to y/n was pointed at Cameron, her hand turning upwards, bending and unbending the finger. This time she was lipsynching, directing the lyrics towards Cameron, asking him to dance with her.

And let me know that your mine! (Let me know your mine)

Oooo!

Ah...Ah..Ah..Ahh!

Baby now! (Shake it up baby)

Twist and shout! (Twist and shout)

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon baby now! (C’mon baby)

C’mon and work it on out! (Work it on out)

You know you twist your little girl! (Twist, little girl)

You know you twist so fine! (Twist so fine)

“Come on a twist a little closer now! And let me know that you’re mine!” Y/n sang even thought the microphone was off.

Well shake it, shake it, shake it baby now! (Shake it up baby)

Ah...Ahh..Ahhh!

The song ended and Ferris did a trust fall into the ladies, the crowd gathering around the float. Y/n was watching Ferris, laughing the laugh that Cameron now realized he loved. She looked over to him, finally calming herself and smiling the sweet smile that he also loved. Y/n waved at him, waiting until he waved back to turn around and ask Ferris how they were going to get off the float.

. . .

“And that’s how I knew I loved you.”

“You knew you loved me because I sang and danced with Ferris?” Her laugh was music to his ears. “Remind me to tell our future children that you’re not aloud to tell love stories.”

“Oh come on, you’re forgetting the part where I said I noticed it consciously. As in I felt the same way without realizing it until then. Plus it was kind of hot, ya know? You singing and dancing to the Beatles?”

“Alright weirdo, save the kissing up to those future kids cause I’m totally gonna be their favorite.”

Cameron stopped rubbing her arm and sat up on the couch, letting out a dramatic gasp. “You would not! I’d be the best dad!”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that Frye. I bet even I could be a better dad than you.”

“True- but we’d both be better dads than Ferris.”

“Oh don’t get me started. I would never trust him babysitting, let alone being in the same room with a kid on his own. Who knows the type of stuff he’d teach them?!”

“Yeah...” Cam lied back down and resumed cuddling y/n. “Hey, my beautiful beloved?”

“Yes my handsome weirdo?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

452 notes · View notes

noobsomeexagerjunk · 4 years

Text

thoughts on starry after multiple listens

(dated July 8, 2020 because i might make another one)

Edit: I SHOULD FACT CHECK MORE

the Starry soundtrack is as impressionist as the painters it invokes by energy alone, which is impressive given the style of music used (of which i’m fine with, but not partial to)

the Prologue does this right off the bat

the people of Monmartre are very critical of the rest of France and I adore it

i can feel theo’s overwhelment in Impress Me

Impress Me does a wonderful job at introducing the setting of the show

that song is a ball of pulsating yearning—no wait that’s the whole show

Theo got so stressed he walked blindly into Madame Segatori’s cafe

learning that the Le Tambourin was named as such due to its tambourine aesthetic via Vincent’s portrait of Segatori is just incredible to me; the table is shaped like a tambourine

“If Paris is the world, Monmartre is Bethlehem; and art is our Amen” sounds so powerful

A New Horizon is so warm

i expect Theo and Vincent to be very cuddly with each other everytime they interact

“dream with me, dear brother” is the energy of this song

french wheat fields will forever haunt me because of this damn musical

*insert Do You Like the Color of the Sky? post here*

like, so much emphasis to the sky

Vincent’s dreaming leaking into Theo’s trading practice surely must be a sight to see

chain imagery hits hard after hearing Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo

in this yellow house, we dream of freedom

“should I really take this giant risk?” “brother, I took a giant risk coming here—fuck yeah do it!”

United in Distaste reeks of Vincent’s intimidation—it has new kid in school energy and I am living for it

Vincent coming to Monmartre (and when he arrives in Arles) like “Hey, I’m new in town, and it gets worse,”

Bernard has apparently spent enough time with Theo to be able to identify Vincent by frowning alone

Rude of Gauguin to yoink Vincent’s painting like that; Segatori immediately hangs it tho—

Gauguin sounds like he’s going to corrupt anyone who approaches him—dude announces his horny nature during his introduction

Gauguin IS a savage and a whore and the best thing about that is that he knows it; even better knowing the vision of his costume

Segatori’s displeasure throughout the song implies that the artists that frequent her cafe also argue amongst themselves frequently

“keep in mind that we’re academic rejects, Vincent”

with the way Degas, Pissarro, and Morisot tease at Gauguin (noting that Gauguin, Bernard, and Toulouse-Lautrec are together in a later song), it sounds like they’re are hurling insults from a separate tambourine table

Toulouse-Lautrec sounds dramatic; Bernard sounds like he’s not sure where he is artistically—both are a mood

Of the post-impressionist table, the only one retaliating with genuine insults is Toulouse-Lautrec; Bernard and Gauguin only end up defending themselves while Toulouse was ready to tear down Degas and Morisot

Pissarro IS old (at this period in time in the musical) damn

Morisot is unyielding with her insults, “speaking of size—“ holy shit oh no

i reiterate—why is Toulouse-Lautrec the only one actually speaking in a French accent; almost everyone there is French

since I’m aggressively referring to him, I think Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec merits a musical of his own, and that’s based on what first learned about him when I first listened to Starry

by extension, also Berthe Morisot

Monmartre’s artists be like “We’re very critical of ourselves and each other, and while that’s worth being intimidated by, don’t be intimidated by us! What do you have to bring to the table, foreign painter?”

Something poetic about how what Vincent wants being what all the artists want hereby making him a member of their squad is so warm to me—galleries are gravity INDEED

“We will embrace the madness we design, or lose our mind,” IS THIS FORSHADOWING BECAUSE IT FUCKING SOUNDS LIKE IT

“i am loving this! YES, GET ANGRY!” if only i can identify who said this

Something After All is directed towards Vincent, right? It better be, I lack context

Theo’s yearning is so relatable and I fear not being able to fulfill it

bless Kelly and Matt for giving Jo so much depth in Enlightenment

apparently she deadass learned English for the purpose of translating the letters she had compiled??? yo i love that

poetic how Jo invokes making a legacy since she’s the one who actually preserves her brother-in-law’s legacy (and by extension, herself and her husband’s legacies)

at first listen, i immediately drew a comparison to Hamilton’s Eliza; Jo is better both musically and literally, given that Vincent van Gogh is far more relevant than Alexander Hamilton will ever be, even with LMM’s musical

not trying to start beef, just an observation

Jo’s yearning is also such a mood

fire, light, and road imagery being invoked huh

it is by this point i’ve to the realization that the reasons one goes to Monmartre that was cited in Impress Me tie in very well to the individual characters’ desires in this show

Where Are We Going? goes so hard ugh yes

“I need a stronger strategy to seize my immortality!” Gauguin’s incredible ambition is the root of his dissatisfaction; doesn’t help that he’s impulsive both in the musical and IRL

Toulouse prioritizes integrity and Bernard prioritizes progression—I wonder what this means for their characters in the show

Toulouse and Bernard calling Gauguin out on his known shitty behaviors feels like they’ll be problems Vincent will have to deal with in Act 2, when they live together

this is where Gauguin leaves for Martinique, right???

which one is the act 1 closer, really??? The Sower or The Road??? help me please

everyone in town is really concerned for Vincent

it wams me how much Segatori believes in him

Bernard’s right, Vincent van Gogh’s artstyle IS a melting pot

learning that Toulouse-Lautrec capitalized on his art during the peak of his career really adds weight to his concerns on Vincent’s inability to sell

i like to imagine the everyone’s in the gallery during The Sower

Theo and Jo’s relationship progressing as Vincent’s works don’t sell hits upon realization

Theo falling hard when he learns that he and Jo yearn for the same thing tho

recontextualizing the imagery that Vincent found beauty in into imagery that demonstrates his person is just mighty good of Kelly and Matt

then again, so much of his person is in the artwork to begin with

“and everyone knows your reap what you sow.” w o a h!!!

The Road starts like a dramatization of one of Vincent’s breakdowns and how he copes with them, or perhaps this starts after one??? The opening verses suggest a lot

also ties his road to his dream of freedom with what i believe is his travel to Arles

“North, South, East, West—navigate from inside you,” = “With conscience as my compass,”

“i am guided towards the night” this Vincent knows the answer but is so clearly far from its reach and is desperately trying to figure out how to

soul of fire, crystal heart and blizzard-like brain; the man is passionate and everyone knows it

“Fascinating, but maybe just a little too soon,” sounds like that at this point, Toulouse-Lautrec and Bernard genuinely recognize and admire Vincent’s talents, but also understand that the world is still against him and that they have the experience to prove it

the “sunlight and storms” imagery always concern Theo, Jo, and Vincent’s relationship with each other

Gauguin popping up in this song with the compass imagery implies the show’s going to make him a pretty interesting foil to Vincent; this sounds like him traveling back to Paris, or at least him attempting to vibe in Martinique

this hurts when you remember what happens to Vincent

“curse of the gifted” is a phrase i am too afraid to understand

DYLAN SAUNDERS CAN SLAY ME WITH HIS VOICE

The Yellow House sounds yellow somehow

who clears their throat before writing a letter???

Gauguin’s frustration’s against Vincent’s admiration of him is amusing

sounds like Gauguin hasn’t found his “freedom” yet

Theo is one generous fellow

this arrangement lasts for only 2 months; given the apparent span of this musical, The Yellow House is a very “calm before the storm” song

wait a minute—

apparently, Vincent REALLY admired Gauguin and was so excited for his arrival at the yellow house

i fear the dramatization of their disagreements

“Don’t tell Theo I said that,” it amuses me how the van Gogh brothers’ relationship is so well-known to these painters

based on the gifs lurking, the ear incident WILL be dramatized and I am terrified for my heart on how it will be depicted

Sunlight and Storms quotes the original letter from Jo to Vincent surprisingly well (i attempted to read some—there’s so many! this was one of the first ones i came across)

this song hurts when it hits how little time Jo and Theo had together as a married couple

I am convinced a lot happened between Sunlight and Storms and On the Threshold of Eternity

this definitely was after a breakdown

i skip this song just so i don’t think about the obvious implications, i must confess

the meaning of “sunlight and storms” hits the hardest here

“we will not let your illness keep you from finding your freedom”

The Red Vinyard is so full of a brother’s love

this hits me, and i speak as an only child

“You’ve carried me more than you’ll ever know,” AH—

when Theo finally sees the new horizon, Vincent is seeing it too

and what Vincent saw he put on a fucking canvas

“i can see it—a new horizon” = “the sight of the starry night”

they say that at the time, not much was thought of the iconic painting

i could only wonder what might’ve happened between The Starry Night and Wheat Fields

all the piano motifs coming together in Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo, just like that

“I’m ready for harvest time” is melodically similar to “The road is bright”, particularly when it’s just Vincent singing the line alone

despite the obvious, I don’t think I’ll grasp the meaning of the final song; i also skip this one so i don’t think about it

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dc41896 · 4 years

Text

Not It

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluff as usual🥰!

“FOR EVERY TIME YOU MESS UP, A CIGAR GOES IN THE JAR!!,” a fed up Jon Taffer shouts at the staff of the latest bar he’s chosen to help.

You and Chris only planned on watching one episode of Bar Rescue out of curiosity and boredom, but here you both were glued to the couch at least five episodes in wondering how, or if, the small business’ issues would get fixed. Lying under you with one leg hanging off the sectional and his fingertips lazily grazing up and down your back, your head pressed against his chest listening to his steady heartbeat and slowly rising with every breath he took.

Remembering how things were the first few weeks you were here, you mentally laugh at yourself and your slightly unorthodox actions. It’s not that you weren’t comfortable living with Chris, you had about eight months under your belt before the quarantine started.

However in those eight months, the most either of you had done in terms of staying together was spend a weekend at the other’s place. Quarantining, and for God knows how long, would mean spending every waking moment with each other and while you were excited, you were also extremely anxious.

When you first arrived at his Boston home, you were mesmerized by how beautiful it was. Chris loved the simple things in life, but don’t be mistaken, he did have taste which could definitely be seen from his house. It was also so warm and inviting that you wanted to instantly curl on the couch with your blanket and watch your favorite movie. Seeing how nice everything was though, you were honestly afraid to mess up something.

Looking back, it was a bit of an irrational fear, but you didn’t want to do anything that would make Chris have second thoughts about asking you to stay with him. Or about being with you.

So your days after consisted of cleaning up after every little thing you did and being careful of every move you made. Even when talking to him you began speaking and laughing quieter than usual, mostly replying with a smile and simple nod.

Of course he noticed this too, along with your constant cleaning, and began to feel that maybe you were uncomfortable because he was slacking around the house.

This idea resulted in him cleaning more behind himself and everywhere he’d go in the house, which made you feel worse and thus how the cycle of you both inadvertently trying to out clean the other began.

It continued like that for about a week until a very much needed revelation by an unwelcome guest.

Making his way back to the living room from his office, Chris hears your panicked screams prompting him to run in the kitchen and see you perched on the countertop.

“What?! What’s wrong?!”

“There’s a spider right there!”

“Babe seriously?! I thought something bad happened,” he chuckles letting out a sigh of relief with his hand on his chest.

“Something almost did happen! It could’ve bit me! And you would be equally as scared if you saw it.”

“I’m sure it’s not that-,” he starts before seeing the brown spider, roughly the size of his hand, crawling towards his foot. Shrieking, he hops on the counter next to you holding onto your arm.

“You were saying?”

“Okay okay you were right, now how are we gonna get it out of the house?”

“We?! Why we?”

“You’re gonna make me deal with that all by myself?! And here I am thinking you loved me,” he tisks shaking his head.

“Ugh alright! Um..okay so I’m gonna throw this bowl over it and cover the spider so then we just slide it outside and it can be free.”

“God you’re so smart,” he smiles kissing your cheek as you pick up the medium, plastic bowl near you.

Lightly tossing the bowl in the spider’s direction, it misses the target landing an inch away from the bug and causing him to jump, which made you and your boyfriend jump as well clinging onto each other.

“Welp that’s all I got. You gotta kill it Chris.”

“Why me? You saw it first.”

“Yea but I’m terrified of them and have been since I was little so I can’t do it.”

“I’m terrified too!”

“I guess we’re staying here all night then because neither one of us is gonna touch it.”

Sauntering into the kitchen with his tail wagging, Dodger pauses seeing the eight legged creature crawl along the hardwood floor; bending down to almost touch it with his nose.

“Dodger leave it alone bud, I don’t need you getting hurt,” Chris orders. However, Dodger chose to ignore him and instead lifted both his front paws to land on the spider a couple times before picking it up in his mouth and walking towards the patio doors.

Looking at the both of you with his head tilted, Chris climbs down the counter to let him outside where he placed the spider on the ground and returned back inside with a light shake of his fur.

“Yay, you killed it Dodge!,” you smile climbing off the counter to hug him. “As you could see your dad wasn’t gonna do it so thank you bubba.”

“Don’t even, you know you weren’t gonna do it either! Like you said we both would’ve been on the counter all night,” he replies as you both laugh.

“You know, that’s the first laugh I’ve heard from you in a while.”

“What are you talking about? I laughed at that joke you told this morning.”

“Yea but I mean a genuine laugh. The ones where the corners of your eyes and nose crinkle and you cover your face because you think you look funny when actually it’s the most adorable thing.”

Smile falling, you look down avoiding his gaze as you continue gently petting Dodger.

“Y/N talk to me, what’s going on?,” he asks kneeling down beside you. “If I’m doing something to make you uncomfortable or it’s the house-,”

“No! It’s not you or the house Chris it’s just...I don’t want to mess up anything.”

“What could you possibly mess up?”

“I don’t know, anything! I could get a stain on the couch or one of your pillows, or I could accidentally knock over a family heirloom and then you’ll hate me.”

“First off I could never hate you, so please get that out of your mind. Next if something did happen I can easily fix or replace it, it’s just stuff it’s not important. And if it is, it’s somewhere safe” he answers. “Is that why you’ve been cleaning so much? And acting different?”

Nodding your head, a small sigh escapes your lips as your eyes concentrate on the pup’s brown and white fur. “I was worried and scared that overtime with us being under the same roof there’d be something I did that you couldn’t deal with and you’d feel like this was a mistake. Or that we were a mistake.”

“Y/N look at me,” he says guiding your chin so you would meet his eyes. “You could smack me in the face and I’d still want you.”

“...I’m concerned but also flattered..?,” you softly laugh along with Chris who slowly nods in agreement.

“Okay that probably wasn’t the best way to say it. What I mean is it’d take something monumental for me to think something like that, which I know would never happen. You have nothing to worry about because I love you the way you are, flaws and all even though to me you don’t have any. ”

Holding your face in his hands, his thumbs gently rub against your cheeks making you giggle.

“So please don’t change yourself trying to be perfect for me or anyone,” he smiles leaning in to softly kiss your lips. “Also want to hear something funny?”

“Hmm?”

“You were cleaning to not seem messy, and I was cleaning because I thought you thought I was messy. So we’ve basically been re-cleaning behind each other this whole time,” he chuckles.

“And I thought you cleaning meant I wasn’t doing it to your liking,” you reply shaking your head.

“Well, at least the house is spotless,” Chris laughs along with you as Dodger moves to try to lick his face.

Jon screaming at yet another owner brings you out of your memories as you lift your head to prop on your hands folded on his chest. Gazing up at his beard and brunette hair grown out a little past his ears, you contently sigh making him look at you at smirk.

“Liking the view?”

“Of the giant dork? Yea he’s alright,” you giggle making him chuckle. “Hey I have a question for you.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Let’s say we bought a house and I got stuck in the basement. You come down to get me, the whole place is covered in spiders, including me. Would you leave me on my own or fight through them?”

“Of course I’d help you,” he smiles sitting up to kiss your forehead. “I’d probably need therapy after and would burn down the house though, but no I wouldn’t leave you by yourself.”

“Aww you’re so sweet.” Sliding closer to his face, you peck his lips multiple times before lying in the crook of his neck and breathing in his scent.

“I might want to send Dodger in first though since apparently he’s the exterminator of the house,” he laughs reaching down to lightly pat the sleeping dog’s head.

Taglist: @literaturefeen @crushed-pink-petals-writes @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @fumbling-fanfics @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @curlyhairclub @renfrewscorner @secretmysteriousperson @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged already but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans

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thirsty-x1 · 5 years

Text

Solo | Kim Yohan

Request:

Heyyyyyyy~ This will be an unusual one shot smut request but Yohan with a flesh light! The company gave the hyungline fleshlights to relieve their sexual frustrations because hooking up with people will be TOO risky. hahahhaha I hope you’ll consider it!

↬ Pairing: Yohan x fleshlight ♥

↬ Genre: Smut, Comedy (not really but the idea it’s fucking hilarious).

↬ Warnings: explicit language, male masturbation.

↬ Word Count: 1.9k+ (I don’t know how I managed to do this)

↬ A/N: WHY DO I SEE HIM DOING THIS I’M WHEEZING.

Yohan stared at the boxes that Seungyoun had delivered to the dorms, a scary smile on his face while he gave one to each of the older members. Honestly, he would have been excited to receive a gift from the staff since it didn’t happen often, but the expression in Seungwoo’s face as he opened the box, took a glance and then closed it again before stifling a giggle was enough for all his good hunch to fly out the window.

A scoff caught their attention as Wooseok placed the box aside. “I don’t need it. Nor want it.”

“Ah, right, you would have preferred another kind of toy, right?” Seungyoun’s comment made Wooseok open his eyes wide before his lips pressed into a thin line. Yohan wasn’t sure but he heard something similar to “fuck you”.

“Ah! A toy? I’ve been looking for something to master–” All suspicion disappeared from Hangyul’s face as he opened the box confidently, sharing a look with Seungyoun before bursting out laughing.

“What is it?” His hands itched to know, the reaction of everyone in the room making him feel curious, but still didn’t want to get his expectations high.

Seungwoo waved his hand as if to indicate him not to worry and since he was a trustable leader it should be fine, right? So Yohan opened the box, his eyebrows furrowing as he saw a black tube, wondering if it was a flashlight or maybe a light stick.

“You have it the wrong way.” Following Seungyoun’s advice, he turned it around, slightly yelping and throwing the object back in the box.

“What the hell is that?”

The rest of the boys blinked a few times, looked at each other and laughed even more, some of them even clapping while Wooseok shook his head a few times while chuckling. “It’s a fleshlight.”

“A what?”

“Pay attention to the design, doesn’t it remind you of something?” Hangyul pointed at his own gift, circling his finger multiple times around the top part.

Yohan’s cheeks blushed before he could even formulate a reply. Of course he knew what it looked like, he wasn’t stupid, but he couldn’t help wondering why someone would create that.

“Not as good as the real thing but it’s better than your hand.” Seungwoo talked elegantly as he observed the box, resting his chin on one of his hands. “Are there more models?”

Seungyoun nodded. “Yeah, there are a few more boxes… I grabbed myself a mouth one–”

“Oh, is there any butt?” Despite the laughing before, Hangyul seemed to get into it fairly quickly while Wooseok discreetly stretched his neck to take a peek.

Seungwoo stood up and held Yohan’s box, shaking his head softly. “This one... You deserved something a little better… This one is pretty plain, let me find something that will make a better job.”

He wanted to tell him that it wasn’t needed but the leader left before he could muster a word. Nonetheless, Yohan was actually quite interested in the idea and thankful that someone else could guide him into it. He didn’t consider himself a virgin, taking into consideration that he actually did try it out during a few practices but he couldn’t get through it and that was why everyone considered him to be the baby in that aspect. What could he do about it? There was always a new competition or tournament for the one he had to train for, it wasn’t like he had much time to do whatever he wanted and much less experiment everything the others had.

Seungwoo came back with another box, smiling at him and Yohan felt slightly awkward at the sweet action, probably because the older genuinely seemed to be taking care of him with something so ridiculous. He scanned the room, Wooseok leaving somewhere between his rushing thoughts while Hangyul and Seungyoun played with the plastic objects as if they were swords. Nothing out of the ordinary, everyone acting pretty naturally about it but his hands still hid the box under the bed.

It had been a few days since the so thoughtful gift from the staff, a strange way to prevent any of the boys having a scandal and also trying to avoid their constant complaints about “wrists hurting” but Yohan had still not tried it. Sure, he had listened to the older ones sharing feedback between them, even Wooseok joined before swallowing his pride, but he didn’t know how to start. How could all of them do it as if it was nothing when all the others were around? After thinking about it a bit, he realized he was the only one with a younger roommate, since Seungwoo and Wooseok each had their own room whilst Seungyoun and Hangyul shared another.

Unfair. It was unfair, maybe worse than that, but the night that Dongpyo seemed to shower before him for the first time in months and fell asleep, he took it as a sign. Carefully, Yohan grabbed the box under his bed and quickly walked to the bathroom. He started undressing, turning the shower on as he examined the box for a minute, trying to fight against the embarrassment as he finally opened it, eyes going wide as he saw the model that Seungwoo had picked: it was completely translucid, allowing to see the inside unlike the previous one Seungyoun had handed him before.

He swallowed, finally taking off his underwear and taking both the fleshlight and the small lube bottle inside the box to the shower. It wasn’t exactly convenient when it came to size but not that he cared much about it. His head hurt from overthinking, choosing to fill it with the warm water of the shower since, quoting Seungyoun, “you don’t want your dick to freeze” and left it aside, washing the rest of his body while waiting. His thoughts were running wild, the adrenaline on his veins starting to make him feel turned on and his skin getting more and more sensitive, the casual touches of his hands on his chest and thighs helping to get him half-hard. After finishing with the cleaning, he grabbed the toy, letting the water drip before pouring some of the lube on the inside and the outer lips (if it could be called like that) and then some more on his cock, stroking a few times before he pressed the tip against the entrance of the fleshlight.

Maybe now was the time to congratulate himself for thinking about doing it in the shower, the noise of the water shutting down the low grunt he left as the swallowed his cock. The texture on the inside had him throbbing, his eyes fluttering shut at the slightly cold feeling since the warm water wasn’t enough for the silicone to get hotter. He looked down, the clear plastic case offering the exposed view of his member being hugged by the gel-like walls and he couldn’t help but to moan. Yohan was self-confident and although he would often deny it in order to not seem vain, he knew he was handsome, but seeing himself like this was a new kind of turn on.

The toy stayed in place, his other hand slightly turning the tap on the end of it to tighten it up a bit more until he felt comfortable before starting to move it. The small bumps and ridges on the inside of the sleeve stimulated each bit of his cock, his head thrown back as he took it out and slid the tip inside again, enjoying the shocks of sensitivity that it sent to his whole body. He turned around to the mirror in front of him, his body barely visible due to the steam of the shower but it was more than enough to get him more excited: the movement of his arms as he jerked off, his abdomen tightening, the muscles of his thick thighs showing when he thrust inside the toy, his wet hair covering his eyes slightly… He wasn’t sure if it was normal or not to get turned on by his own image, but right now all he could focus on was the way his cock was sucked in by the toy.

Cursing, he remembered the warning from the older ones about the sensation being so intense that it might make him cum too quickly, but it was already too late: the fingers of his free hand came up to play with his nipples as he bit down on his bottom lip to hold back the moans, his semen spilling into the toy and he watched each single spurt hit the translucent, gelid material, a soft smirk tugging on his mouth. He waited for his breathing to go back to normal and started to pull out only to let a loud whimper escape as the bumps of the inner chamber overstimulated his softening dick, his cum dripping down into the floor as he freed himself from the tight embrace.

All the stress and tension in his body washed away, making feel drowsy and slightly tired, paying little to no attention as he rinsed the toy a few times with water and cleaned himself again, stepping out of the shower and immediately laying down in bed, falling asleep short after that.

It felt like he had slept barely a few hours as he felt something hitting the back of his head, hurriedly turning around to see one of the stylists (and his friend, although she preferred to keep that as a secret), hands on her hips as she waited for him to snap out of it.

“Don’t just leave your toys all around, Dongpyo already exposed you to everyone in the dorms.” That seemed to do the trick, Yohan quickly sitting up and rubbing his face as if to wake up completely.

“He did what?”

Her body stretched in front of him, picking up the object that had hit him before and shaking it a few times in front of his eyes, his cheeks blushing. “This thing, you left it in the bathroom’s sink as if it was a toothbrush.”

“Sorry, I forgot and– why am I apologizing? The staff is guilty!” She raised an eyebrow, skeptic. “The staff sent these boxes so that we could take care of our “teenage needs” or something like that.”

The laugh she let out made him feel more embarrassed while also irritating him, but he wasn’t ready for the next move. “Oh, yeah? And did it feel good?” She got closer, her face inches away from his. “Did it feel better than the real thing, Yohanie?”

It made him get slightly mad about it: she knew he hadn’t felt the real thing since she was the only girl with the one he had been close to experience it, and now she used that knowledge against him?

“Fuck you, y/n.”

“You wish.” She flicked his forehead before pulling away. “Now get up, you will be late to practice.”

Yohan laid back on the mattress again, shuffling his hair and closing his eyes as he thought how to get back at her. “Only if you let me practice with you later.”

A small silence followed, her steps stopping right in front of his room’s door. “Maybe I will.”

His eyes opened wide, springing out of the bed and tripping with the towel he had left on the floor while asking a hundred times what she meant by that.

This one was so funny when I received it... I feel like I didn’t make it justice. Hilarious.

~Nani

| Masterlist |

#this request is hilarious #kim yohan #kim yohan scenario #kim yohan imagine #kim yohan smut #yohan #yohan scenario #yohan imagine #yohan smut #x1 #x1 scenario #x1 imagine #x1 smut

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mimzy-writing-online · 5 years

Text

Writing Blind Characters Falling in Love, an Advice post

Okay, let’s get down to business (to defeat the huns...)

Last May I wrote a long and intensive guide on how to write a blind character. The masterpost of that guide is here: https://mimzy-writing-online.tumblr.com/post/185122795699/writing-a-blind-or-visually-impaired-character

[Yes, I know I never finished part four, I feel bad about that]

Since writing that guide I’ve had a few of you wonderful writers contact me asking for more situational advice on writing your characters. Which I love doing. I love seeing people making a serious effort to get it right.

Last night someone asked me how to write a blind character falling in love...

...and I thought, wow, how did I forget to write about love and blindness. Especially since I had such an intense experience of falling in love for the first time while losing vision.

There’s a lot of thoughts I have on this subject, so it’ll take a bit to get through. In this guide we’ll talk about:

1) Is dating different when you’re disabled?

2) Are there problems with dating when you’re disabled?

3) How your characters meet

4) First things in a new relationship when you’re blind

5) The joy of falling and being in love while blind

Disclaimer: I am a visually impaired writer and blogger. I have been living with vision loss for two years now. I also fell in love during those two years, even if she and I are not together anymore. I also write blind characters of my own, including Ulric, from my current wip A Witch’s Memory

Is dating different when you’re disabled?

Well, yes. But also no. It’s a romance that involves a few more challenges than a romance between able bodied people, but at it’s heart it’s still a romance. Love is still the focus.

While planning and writing your book/story, you need to be aware of how much space you allow for a romance plot and how that space compares to other plotlines. If you’re writing an action story and your romance is only a subplot, then the space you have to establish your characters’ more intimate interactions is smaller. If the romance is one half of the plot, or most of the plot, it gets more space to work with.

In that time you need to establish how your characters meet and how they connected emotionally. Those are two separate things. How do they meet the first time, and what makes them want to keep meeting up. Meet-cutes are adorable and I’ve read a bunch, but your characters need something about them that makes them emotionally connect and want to see more of each other. Thinking they’re cute and jumping from first exchanged words to an offer for a date in two pages isn’t realistic and it’s too fast paced if you’re working with something serious.

Also a blind character won’t likely recognize if the character is cute, not unless their vision allows for it. What a blind character will latch onto is conversation and how they felt in the moment.

When writing a romance plot, the emotional connection is worth its weight in gold. You need to establish it, kindle it, and let it grow.

What will make a blind character (or anyone really) connect to someone new?

Here are your three basics for establishing a connection.

Conversation

Respect

Common Ground

You start with conversation to get to know each other, you establish if this is a person who will respect you as a person for being disabled or for being any other minority you are. Then you establish if you have common ground.

Respect is usually the thing that gets in the way of dating when you’re disabled.

Conversation: What connects people is their first conversation. This is where your character’s make their first impression with each other. If conversation comes easily, or if there’s a lot of humor, people will connect. It’s a lot easier to leave a stilted conversation than a flowing, easy conversation. Your characters also pick up clues about who that person is in the conversation, what their interests are, what their life is like, how they feel, what they think.

If your blind character is someone who misses a lot of facial expression and body language, they will be relying heavily on word choice and tone when determining someone else’s mood.

Respect is something you usually determine after the conversation has developed. Unless someone was off the bat rude to you the second they met you, or discriminated against you instantly, it will take a little longer to see how much respect someone has for both you and for a minority group.

Disrespect for the Disabled Comes in Multiple Forms

Discrimination: this is quicker for someone who is not disabled to identify. It’s garden variety discrimination. They don’t care that you’re blind and need help finding a door or elevator. They make jokes about your disability both in front of you and behind your back. They say they would never ever date someone with a disability, as if you’re a burden

(note: I’m not saying anyone has to date anyone, abled or not. But maybe don’t say to someone point blank that you could never date or be attracted to someone with a disability, because it’s just rude. Also these people were rarely asked)

Backwards Disrespect: “Oh, you’re so pretty, I would have never known you were blind” “You’re too pretty to be blind” “Wow, you’re so ambitious/hard-working for someone with a disability” “You talk really well for a deaf person, you sound almost normal”

If they sound like compliments to you, guess again. To be honest, I’m hoping you’re all reading those “compliments” and wondering what sort of person would think to compliment someone like that. But here’s the thing, those are all real things that have been said to countless people with disabilities.

My Personal Favorite, from my at-the-time class crush: “But you’re so sweet and nice, you don’t deserve to be blind. You poor thing.”

But people still think these are good compliments to say to someone with a disability, even though it thoroughly insults everyone else with that same disability as being of a lesser standard.

Savior Complex/Infantalize: This is where you see your savior complexes come out, and there’s a huge real-life reality that people with savior complexes seek out the disabled to help them, and that includes romance. It’s also where I fear many of you writers may accidentally venture into without meaning too.

Granted there is a lot of care giving involved when you are a close family member, close friend, or a romantic partner to someone with a disability. In a fresh relationship, a romantic partner would not be involved much/at all in caregiving because they don’t live with this person or have any experience with their disability.

Care giving for a loved one is great. What’s not great is if your blind character’s romantic interest starts babying them. Talking to them as though they are a child. Limiting that person’s activity or freedom on the basis of protecting them from harm because they can’t see what they’re doing. If your blind character’s romantic interest starts acting like an overbearing mother in a YA novel, you have some serious problems with that romantic interest and your character needs to get out of the relationship.

But this is a reality of being disabled and dating. Sometimes people stop seeing you as an independent person capable of making decisions, and start seeing you as an adorable, tall child who needs to be protected. It sucks. Never date someone like that.

Ignore: I’m referring to a very specific type of disrespect and I’m not sure what a better word for it would be. Here’s a straight forward example.

Your blind character says they don’t feel comfortable going to a club with their new date because they feel vulnerable in a dark, loud environment already filled with risks for danger. Your character’s romantic interest ignores that, thinking if they just try it out anyway, they’ll love it. And if your character decides they love being coerced or forced out of their clearly marked comfort zone to do this dangerous activity that scares them, you fucked up. Because nobody should be coerced or forced out of their comfort zone, they should be able to leave their comfort zone on their specific terms. Your characters love interest needs to respect that. Your character established a boundary/concern because of their disability, and they need to be listened to.

Or, on the other side.

Your blind character expresses what they can do on their own without help, and your character’s love interest ignores that. Bad. That goes back into the infantizing aspect, but in truth they’re two sides of the same coin.

There’s like five million other ways to discriminate against the disabled, but there’s your top four in social/relationship settings.

Common Ground I feel should be self explanatory. It’s things that connect your characters beyond looks or small talk. Their shared interests, shared humor, shared personality traits, shared life experiences, shared religion or culture, anything like that.

What are the dangers of dating when you’re disabled and how do you avoid them?

There’s a lot of danger to being disabled, to being an easy target in the eyes of others. It’s even worse when you’re a woman. Even worse when you’re blind or deaf.

[Note: please don’t use this as an excuse to include rape plots or domestic violence, those are actual triggers for many people, including myself. There’s already too many stories out there with rape scenes used to further plot when literally anything could have been done instead]

What are the dangers of dating when disabled?

Part of it is how you meet someone. For this reason a lot of people with disabilities might opt to only date people they’ve met in person before, sticking to people they know well. This means they won’t date online. That’s not a universal choice, but it is a reality. I have tried online dating since vision loss and I won’t mention I’m blind in my profile? Why?

There are people who would pick me specifically because I’m blind. Those people are: 1. People with savior complexes 2. People who want someone weaker than them to abuse, who they think won’t fight back or will be less likely to leave 3. People with a disability fetish. I’ve experienced 2 out of 3 personally.

So I’d prefer to date someone I met through school or through a friend group. Not been so lucky there, but that’s life.

How Your Characters Meet

Given the above, your character is not likely to go on a date with an online stranger. Though there are exceptions and they are taken with the precaution of having someone sitting in the corner of the coffee shop you’re meeting at, or something like that. Your character is also not likely to go on a blind date.

A note on blind dates: If your blind character is going on a blind date, you did it, you jumped into a cliche/trope. It’s not that you can’t write it, but it’s over-done and anyone who is blind will probably stop reading your story, or maybe never even start. Also, I’m not sure blind dates exist as a social practice after 2010, so there’s also that...

Your character, like most people, will find someone they want to date in the crowd of people they already know. I’m not saying they have to be a friends to lovers thing (although that is my fave trope) but they probably know their love interest in passing before things really get started. A coffee shop regular, a classmate they’ve only talked to a little bit, a friend of a friend.

The First Things

Over the course of dating your characters will have a series of conversations about disability that happen and are mixed in with other normal dating life.

Things your characters should establish on the first date:

-Your blind character will explain to their date how much they can and can’t see. You should be a little in depth if you can, because that’s honestly just a real thing about dating when blind. This might involve mentioning a diagnosis, but your character might choose to shy away from telling the full story if it was an emotional one

-Your character should establish their boundaries, what they can do without help or with minimal help, and what they can’t do. (and their date should respect that)

-The date should happen like most normal dates. They should still talk about all the things two able-bodied people would talk about on a first date. Interests, family, childhood, etc

In following dates:

Your blind character should be able to tell their date when they’re not okay with them doing something (making a blind joke, or trying to talk for them/over them to sighted people without permission, like “oh no, they don’t need a menu/straw/map/shopping bag/etc)

Like all couples, your characters should discuss physical boundaries. That means sex, physical affection, verbal affection, PDA, not touching personal possessions (such as cane, guide dog, or phone). This doesn’t necessarily have to happen on page, but it’s something all dating people should just have in the beginning of their relationship.

Your blind character will talk about small daily struggles with blindness and their date should listen, just listen. Listening is one of the biggest ways to help someone with a disability. Listen to what they say they feel, without telling them they’re overreacting. Listen to their struggles without trying to fix it all right away and without their permission. Listen to how they ask to be treated.

Your blind character will get comfortable with this relationship, and eventually rely on their partner a little more for small things.

The Joy of Being and Falling in Love while Blind

Falling in love with someone when you live with a disability has a unique aspect to it. You’re so used to struggling to do things yourself that now having someone who helps even a little is life changing.

Your partner (with your permission) will speak up for you when you face discrimination for your disability. It will feel fucking amazing to have someone tell others off on your behalf.

They help with small daily tasks. For example, I hate taking trash out to the bins because my outside vision is very bad, so I always prefer for someone else to do it. Or running an errand to the store is 10x less stressful because there’s someone sighted to help.

Your partner becomes someone you feel safe traveling with, and you’ll go on more adventures because now they’re by your side. I tried lots of new things while in my last relationship that I didn’t try with previous ones where I was sighted. I went to new places, tried new foods and new restaurants, saw movies that I’d never heard of. She and I even took a drive through rich neighborhoods in December to see all the decked out Christmas decorations.

There’s someone who makes you feel loved and cherished. Someone who makes this ablest world feel a little less rotten. A little more beautiful.

I think that’s what I have for now. This is a bit of a monster of a post, so I’m impressed if you got this far. If you have more questions about writing a blind character, feel free to message me or send me an ask. Feel free to interact with me in general, I love you all.

This is going to be linked into my master post as well. Like this and all my other posts on the subject, any post involving advice for writing a blind character will be tagged #blindcharacter

Follow me for writing advice, updates on my wip A Witch’s Memory, and writing memes or relatable posts.

#writing advice #writing tips #writing community #writing #blindcharacter #mine #my post #my advice

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