#you get frequent enough headaches but none that are on the level of full on migraines.

[bardkin]

feeling like you're "not disabled enough" to quit your job or at least ask for accommodations fuckin' sucks

[chaoticevilbean]

An (Un)Official List Of Things Only Anakin Skywalker Can Do

Originally written by Ayala Secura

Blow people up with his mind on accident

Anakin expressed concern over his lack of emotional control. He gave many examples of normal problems that can arise from this. He then casually added one that is not common, usual, or even plausible for known Jedi. From his recollection, he would often cause beings who enraged him to spontaneously and violently combust.

I did my best to reassure him that such things were considered unusual, but weren't reason for him to be fearful. At the time, I simply didn't wish to increase his worries. I did maintain that the exploding of beings is very bad, and that he should work on finding ways to productively release such strong emotions.

I apologize here for the "renovation" of the hangar. (Secura)

Hear as far as the length of the Temple (without meditation)

Amendment: Hear as far as the diameter of Coruscant (without meditation)

Anakin once again was expressing concerns over his lack of control. He also complained that it was causing him headaches. Upon my questioning, he explained that he could hear the younglings playing on the other side of the Temple. I tested this by having us stand on either end of the longest part of the Temple we could reach. I asked if he could hear me (without a comm) and he responded that he could (using a comm).

Later, when he was still within the Temple, I found myself on a mission with my Master. It was not a very rushed assignment, and I began humming. Upon my return to the Temple, Anakin asked me if I knew what song it was, humming the exact tune I had. Apparently, he had been walking with his own Master and had heard me, though he hadn't been focusing enough to identify what he was doing. (Secura)

Smell differences within water despite being a non-variant Human

Smell differences within air despite being a non-variant Human

He accompanied me to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was a normal walk through the gardens, until we came across one of the smaller ponds. He commented that someone had cleaned it recently. When I asked how he knew, he explained that it smelled different.

He and I were sitting within his quarters. We were simply chatting when he complained that someone had messed with the ventilation without alerting him or Knight Kenobi. He could smell the air was slightly different than before. As he put it, the smell wasn't the problem, but the lack of communication was.

Both instances, he couldn't elaborate on what exactly the smells were, nor how he knew what each one meant. He simply knows these things. When tested with some other Padawans, the only ones that came close to knowing such things were Nautolans, out of a base group of 15 species. The experiment is listed in the Archives as Liquid and Gaseous Change Detection. (Secura)

Eat death sticks without consequence

Both of our Masters brought us to the lower levels in order to fulfill a mission. Anakin and I were left in a corner booth, with instructions to remain there and cause a commotion if someone attempted to harm or harrass us.

I looked away for TEN SECONDS. Ten seconds, and he was being offered a death stick by a clearly intoxicated individual who had no sense of what should and shouldn't be given to a barely ten-cycle-old. Anakin had no experience with such things. He had no idea what he was being given, and managed to get instructions to pour the liquid into his fizzyglug within the fleeting moment I was not paying attention.

He consumed it, chugging the liquid when I attempted to order him to stop, and then take it from him when he didn't listen. The individual who gave him the death stick had the sense to begin to panic, finally realizing Anakin's youth. However, Anakin finished off every drop with nothing but a smile. I got our Masters attention, but even after taking him to the nearest medcenter and runnign multiple scans, there were no signs of any harm. I have received significant therapy for that event, and Anakin has since been informed to not take anything from strangers. (Secura)

Generate electricity on levels that a (non-variant) Human cannot perform (without a health declination)

He was making his hair do that weird static thing that Human hair does every time he got excited. He also kept causing screens and pads to glitch or turn off whenever he picked them up while in a similar state. A solution of temporary insulating gloves and frequent reminders helped him gain control. (Secura)

Communicate words through the Force with minimal bonding

Amendment: No bonding is necessary for this form of communication, and is possible within the expanse of the Temple

Amendment: Communication is possible over most distances

He asked me if Aayla was available to study (with the Force) because his mouth was full and he'd already been told off that day. (Vos)

Skywalker told me that my Padawan was experiencing a panic attack from across the Temple. No bond existed between us before or after the interaction. (Fisto)

Skywalker informed me of a mission delay over several systems. He explained later that he was attempting to prevent his Master's worry about informing the Council and knew I would inform the other members for Kenobi. (Windu)

Consume raw meat (without a health declination) despite being a non-variant Human

Nervous to eat lunch alone, he was. Asked to eat together, I did. Showed him the kitchens, I did. Ate five live frogs, he did. Proud, I am. (Yoda)

I handed him a rodent I had found within my quarters, asking him to hold it so I could call someone. I was going to call a being who could help me prevent further instances and get rid of this rodent. I needn't have worried about relocating or disposing of the creature, though. I remember hearing a loud squeal, then turning to find Skywalker trying to tear away the fur of the rodent. He had no notion that it was an unusual habit for a Human. (Ti)

Jump into the Temple vents without using the walls

Amendment: Without using any aid

Amendment: Jump in/out of the Temple vents and on/off obstacles of similar height without any aid whatsoever

He's proved this multiple times over various training excercises, and occasionally his attempts to avoid said excercises. There's footage of it from the Temple's cameras. He has no regard for safety when it comes to jumping off of ledges, cliffs, or roofs/out windows. Caution advisory does nothing. (Kenobi)

Send emotions through the Force without a bond

Amendment: Send emotions without a bond, over great distances, with extreme precision and without any meditation or prior preparation - such emotions will likely be magnified upon reception, and can cause fainting, among other symptoms

Upon the death of notable Jedi Master Pak'll Tiffn, I had decided to participate in their culture's traditional week-long mourning practices. Near the end of this, young Skywalker asked me why I seemed so "down". I explained my grief at the death of Master Tiffn, and he continued to question me on the cause of my "distress". When he discovered I had technically finished the practices an hour before, he sent such a strong wave of excitement to me that I found it hard to not smile for the following three days.

I also found myself wishing to work on starfighter engines, which I attribute to the excitement being of Skywalker's creation. (Tiin)

I had a migraine while on a mission. Skywalker sent me a wave of comfort that caused me to pass out. He has since been informed that he should not interact with Jedi in the field unless he is certain they are in a safe enough position to do so. (Windu)

Accidentally cause plants to grow at a visibly accelerated rate

Anakin fell asleep in the Room of a Thousand Fountains while attempting to meditate. Upon my arrival, I found the grass already past my knees in height, and several nearby shrubs beginning to flower. I write my apologies here to the caretakers of the Room, and express my gratitude that none of you commented on it. (Kenobi)

Accidental levitation whilst walking

Amendment: Accidental levitation whilst walking, running, and other movement in which one is not standing/sitting/lying in a singular place

Witnessed during sparring practice with Master Kit Fisto and Master Ki-Adi Mundi

Bypass shielding enough to receive a clear perception of a being's emotions

I was working through some guilt over a recent mission and the requirements to fulfill it. Anakin walked over and did his best to comfort me without any understanding of why I was feeling that way, but knowing exactly what I was feeling. Throughout our entire interaction, my shields remained firmly in place, and strong enough that he really shouldn't have been able to even know where I was.

Oh yeah. He came from across the Temple to find me. He bypassed my shielding from across the Temple, without realizing his actions, and did so with better precision than a fully trained Master. (Vos)

Carry items of any weight without strain from channeling

According to Skywalker, the only trouble he has with lifting all the furniture in his quarters is he has to focus on the act while also looking for his missing holopad. (Koon)

(regarding previous entry) Reminds me of the time he lifted all the ships in Hangar 6 in order to find a single wrench, which was in somehow within the vents. (Billaba)

Cause a building-wide power outage from a nightmare/vision

Incident recorded as Padawan-induced. (Nu)

Bite through beskar when curious

Taste the strength of metals

Skywalker is no longer allowed in the forges without someone actively supervising him and him alone. He saw a piece of beskar I had managed to aquire. He was curious about the ore, due to it being unknown to him. I caught him with it in his mouth like some youngling sneaking a cookie. Apparently it tasted really strong. I thought he meant the taste was pungent, until he said that even durasteel didn't taste as strong. (Ria)

Heal minor personal wounds immediately, within a few seconds and without discernible energy usage

Heal major personal wounds immediately, up to halving recovery time and with lessened energy usage

Incidents recorded in mission reports including Skywalker (Nu)

Accidentally mind trick crowds of 20 or more

Amendment: Untested limit of how many can be affected, although the effectiveness of the tricks varies between individuals, and can reach up to 50 beings (recorded)

Note to all those who may serve a diplomatic mission with Skywalker: he can safely diffuse mobs, protests, and other upset crowds. He will need time to calm his own emotions afterwards, as it is (theoretically) his increasing anxiety that causes such effects. (Fisto)

Learn a language after hearing it only once

Amendment: Anakin will not know this is happening. He will simply begin to speak the language back at whoever spoke it to him.

Incidents recorded in mission reports including Skywalker (Nu)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

All Jedi are now welcome to add to the (Un)Official List of Things Only Anakin Skywalker Can Do. All editors are asked to put some form of a source, even if such source is simply a page-long rant about Padawan Skywalker's habit of not checking if a substance should be poisonous to him (condolences to Knight Vos).

Please also include some sort of identifier to connect each edit to the being(s) who created them.

Sincerest gratitude and condolences to all Jedi who find themselves editing this file. (Secura)

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story Pt 20 - Sci Fi

New part! I've felt more inspired lately, and am happy to share the next installment of the PFTS series.

Warning, a little bit of angst ahead.

Masterpost linked here.

Enjoy!

_____________________________

“That’s amazing!”

Pausing in my exercise with the Mech, I turned to look over at Liam who was standing off to the side of training room. He was watching me with bright eyes, a small container and a water bottle held tightly in his hands.

I stood in the training room holding a sword, practicing different strikes, while the Mech behind me held its own large sword, mimicking my movements through the Connection. The distance between us made it more difficult, but I felt the stuttering in its attacks slowly smooth out as I practiced.

I made an overhead swing, feeling the mild throbbing at my temples increase as the Mech made the same movement just a quarter second behind. Now, finished with the set of attacks I had set for myself, I sheathed the practice weapon and turned towards my enthusiastic audience.

“Hey, Liam!”

Severing the Connection with my Mech, I felt relief as the mental drain halted. Now free to move around, I walked towards him with a smile. “What brought you here?”

He grinned shyly. “I wanted to see you practice. Your control is amazing! I can’t believe you can Connect with your Mech from that distance. Also…” He hesitated, “You seem much more comfortable with a sword than you did with the pistols, no offense.”

“None taken. The sword IS much more comfortable.” I thought about the memory fragments of me refusing to give up using a sword. “I just think I might not be meant for ranged weapons.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy! Here you go.” He reached out, holding up a container of water for me to drink from.

“Thanks.”

“I also brought cake.”

I nearly choked in the midst of taking a drink. “Really? You didn’t have to. At this rate you’re going to spoil me.”

“Good.” Liam clutched the container to his chest, looking pleased. “You deserve it.”

“Whatever you say.” I shook my head, finished my drink and then paused. “…Can I ask you a question?”

His smile faded at my serious tone. “Go ahead.”

“Your mental barrier… if it’s up all the time, how are we standing so close together? Also, you’ve handed me things, and even touched me when you helped me up that one time, right?” I felt excited internally, but tried not to show it. “Does that mean I’m not affected by your barrier?”

“… I wish that were true.”

My heart sank with disappointment as Liam sighed, looking down at the ground. “With people I trust, the barrier shrinks. The more I trust them, the smaller the barrier is. My parents can stand close to me.” His eyes turned towards me again, and then back down. “You… you can get closer than anyone else.”

Liam reached out his hand, and following his lead I reached out as well until our palms touched. He studied our hands with a fascinated but sad expression.

“We are so close, it almost seems like we are touching. But there’s still a barrier.”

“So I’m not touching you?”

“No, not directly.” He looked like he wanted to cry. “I can’t feel it. It’s just the barrier.”

“… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.” Shrugging, he grabbed my hand and led me over to a nearby table and chairs. “Honestly, getting as close as this is already a miracle.”

I sat down on the chair, watching as he set up the cake on a plate with utensils. “So you really trust me, huh?”

The movement of his hands paused as he ducked his head, blushing. A mumbled “yes” made it to my ears. Chuckling, I didn’t push him any further. I sat and ate, enjoying the cake he had brought. We didn’t talk, but it was a comfortable silence.

I feel like I’ve known him forever, but I just met him recently.

Putting the odd thought aside, I finished the cake and stood up, brushing the crumbs from my uniform.

“Well, thank you for the delicious cake! But now, I'm afraid I have to get back to practice.”

Liam stood up as well, his expression concerned. “Really? Already? I thought the doctor in the infirmary told you to take it easy after the strain during the mock battles?”

“Just a few more practice swings, it will be fine.”

I don’t know how I’m going to save the world without a Connector. The best I can do is try to become as strong as possible, and hope my mind holds together long enough.

I took a stance near my Mech once more, drawing my practice sword. Glancing over at Liam, who still looked worried, I grinned. “Want to join me?”

“No, I’m terrible with a sword.” He slowly returned the smile, and sat down on the sidelines. “I’ll just watch you from here. Make sure not to overdo it.”

“I know. Just a little more practice.” I made the Connection, pleasantly surprised when my head didn’t ache right away. “Honestly, I think I’m tolerating the mental drain better.”

Liam didn’t seem reassured. “Be careful.”

_____________________________

“Be careful.”

I swung my sword in a quick practice swing, and laughed. “I’m always careful.”

“Says the woman who is going monster hunting.”

“You don’t have to come along.”

I was pulled into a warm embrace. “And let you face danger without me? Never.”

_____________________________

I blinked, mildly disoriented by the sudden memory. They had been coming more and more frequently, as if my mind was desperate to piece together who I had been before I arrived in this world.

“Alaira?”

“I’m fine…” I blinked again, but the forest in my memory didn’t fade away, but simply overlapped with the practice room around me.

Where am I?

“Alaira?”

I tried to look around, but everything was fading into darkness. “I’m…”

“ALAIRA!”

Liam’s panicked shout followed me into oblivion.

_____________________________

Well, at least I recognize this place.

I woke up in the infirmary, groaning as I held my pounding head.

“You’re an idiot.”

The stern voice of the doctor pulled my attention, and I looked up at the middle-aged woman who was glaring at me from a few feet away.

“Wow, your bedside manner is so warm and fuzzy.” I mumbled, rubbing my forehead.

“My bedside manner is saved for patients with a brain. You obviously lost yours somewhere, so you get tough love.” She waved a scanner over my head, frowning. “I told you to take it easy after you passed out during the mock battles!”

“I did! I haven’t done any fighting since that day.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What were you doing in the practice room, then?”

“Practicing with my sword?”

“WHILE Connected to your Mech from 20 feet away?? You didn’t think that might cause a bit of mental strain??!” She sighed, staring up at the ceiling hopelessly. “Lord, give me strength to deal with young, dumb students.”

The doctor sat down on a nearby chair, staring at me seriously. “You have to listen to me, Alaira. This is really important.”

“Okay.” I sat up in bed, folding my hands in my lap and trying to appear attentive. “I’m listening.”

“Your powers have grown. You were already S level when you underwent your health check at the beginning of your second year, but now… it’s at least multiplied by 10.” She shook her head. “We don’t even have a ranking for your power level. I don’t know what’s happened in the last month, it’s almost as if you’ve become a completely different person.”

I am a completely different person… at least I think I am. Is it because I’m in Alaira’s body now that her powers have changed?

I had no way to explain that to the doctor though. “So the power increase… that's a good thing, right?”

“It would be… if you had matched with a Connector.” She sighed. “With your current power level, your mental degradation rate has sped up exponentially.”

“…”

“The passing out is just one of the early signs, Alaira. Have you experienced anything else? Headaches…”

Yes.

“Irritability…”

I thought that was just my personality.

“Hallucinations… flashes of people or memories that aren’t real or never happened?”

“…”

I sat silently, stunned.

No… It can’t be. The memories in my head… the mission… Alaira’s memories of dying in a fight against the Hive… me waking up in a different world… could it all be just my mind breaking apart?

She watched my facial expression and silence with a frown. “So it’s even worse than I thought.” She brought up a holographic file and made a note.

“I…”

“No. No excuses, Alaira. You are temporarily suspended from duty until further notice. I can’t risk your safety any further.”

“But, I’m the strongest Guardian we have!” I was desperately grasping at straws. “You can’t sideline me! What if I found a Connector?”

The doctor shook her head. “I don’t even want you trying to match right now. It takes mental power, and could be the tipping point to full mental degradation.”

“But…”

“No. Alaira. You’re suspended. That’s final.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

TOTAL COMPLETION 5%

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN WORLD COLLAPSE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SOUL. PLEASE COMPLETE THE MISSION.

The bright blue words appeared in front of my eyes. I glanced over at the doctor, who didn’t seem to notice them.

Is this real? Am I really here for a mission to save the world? Or is this just a product of my mental degradation?

“Do you understand, Alaira?”

WARNING!

“I do.”

She relaxed. “Good. Then return to your dorm and rest. I’ll notify your father to come pick you up.” She gathered her things and stood up, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s hard, but put being a Guardian, the Hive, all of it to the side right now. Just focus on your health.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

“I know.”

“And Alaira?”

WARNING!

“Yes?”

“Stay away from your Mech and the matching center, okay?”

“Of course.” I smiled. “I’ll just stay in my room.”

_____________________________

I snuck out of my room that same night.

I don’t know what’s real and what’s not… but I really don’t want to risk world collapse and soul destruction. Those both sound pretty bad.

As I crept through the hallways towards the Match center, I thought through possible plans to get me out of this situation.

First. Let's try matching again. If that doesn’t work… Maybe talk to Alaira’s father? See if there’s any research in slowing the progression of mental degradation?

I heard a security guard coming down the hallway. Panicking, I hid in the nearest classroom. The floor was ice cold even through the cloth of my uniform; my heartbeat was loud in my ears as I listened to the guard pass by on the other side of the door.

Either way, I can’t get caught just yet. I can’t risk missing what might be my last chance to match.

The guard had moved on. I waited a few moments just to be safe before opening the door and sneaking down the hallway once more. My mind was racing, circling around the disturbing idea that it was too afraid to touch:

The possibility that everything I thought was real was actually just my mind breaking down.

Am I really Alaira? Why does the man in my memories keep calling me Bel?

Who am I?

What is real?

It was agonizing, every moment of uncertainty. Questioning every memory, every conversation.

I pushed it from my mind, focusing on each step ahead of me. I needed to get to the Match Center.

If I can match a Connector, it will resolve my mental decay, and then I’ll know what's real.

I tried really hard not to think about what would happen if I still couldn’t find a Connector.

I quietly opened the door to the Match center.

“Match unable to be made.”

At the sound of the cold, robotic voice, I froze in place. For a wild moment I wondered if the match computer had sensed me walking in the building, and decided to reject me at the doorway just to save time. But reason set in and I recognized the figure hunched over the panel:

Liam.

“Unrecognized tester. Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” The voice echoed around the room, seeming to almost physically strike Liam as he slumped further in front of the glowing panel.

His hands tightened into fists as he pressed them harder against the machine. “I’m trying to let it down. Just run the test!”

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.”

“Just let me test, dammit!”

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” Despite his franticness, the voice was cold and unchanged.

“PLEASE!” His fist struck the panel as he slumped to ground. “Let me try. Please…”

He was crying, and my chest hurt as I watched. “Please… let me match her.”

“… Match unable to me made.”

“Liam.” I whispered his name, feeling as if my heart was tearing in half.

“Please.” He sobbed into his hands. "I can't... I can't put it down... I just want to help her... please!"

_____________________________

“Please. Let her go. I’ll do anything.” His voice was shaking with fear, his wide eyes staring at me as I was trapped in place, unable to move.

“Just give up. This is her fate.”

“Let her go!” He reached forward desperately, unable to reach me. “BEL!”

_____________________________

“Liam.” I was crying, unable to control it.

These memories can’t just be hallucinations. They are too real. I looked over at Liam who was striking his fist over and over against the panel, ignoring the blood staining the surface as his skin tore under the repeated blows.

He’s just hurting himself. It was painful to watch. I have to stop him.

I started to walk forward, my hand reaching out…

“Liam…”

Before I could call out, I felt a sharp prick on my arm. I tried to turn to around and look, but soon a burning sensation was building deep in my muscle and my mind went blank.

“Liam…” I tried to call him once last time, as the drug injected into my arm forced me into unconsciousness.

_____________________________

Okay this whole passing out thing has gotten really old.

My mind grumbled as I slowly regained consciousness. I blinked, trying to clear the blurriness in my vision. Did a security guard find me? If so, their curfew enforcement is pretty insane if they are knocking out students.

The room around me slowly came into focus.

Wait… this isn’t the infirmary.

It was a pale grey dorm room.

This isn’t’ my room either. Feeling uneasy, I looked around, barely able to move. My limbs felt as if they were filled with lead, my head foggy.

The dorm room was clean, with barely any personal items on the desk and dresser. On the wall was several posters of famous Guardians, a calendar was pinned nearby with a vigorous Mech training schedule.

I have a bad feeling about this…

“Alaira, you’re awake!” A voice called out from the doorway, sounding pleasantly surprised.

I turned my head with great difficulty, my eyes widening at the sight. “…Chris?”

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” He smiled at me, grabbing the chair from the desk and dragging it to the bedside before sitting down. “When you asked me not to take you to the infirmary, I was worried I was doing the wrong thing.”

He seems… different.

“…” I wanted to shake my head, but felt to weak. “No… I was in the Matching Center…”

He frowned at my words, looking confused. “Matching Center? We ran into each other in the hallway. You were on the verge of passing out, and asked me to take you back to your room. “ Pausing, he shrugged embarrassedly. “Then you fainted. I don’t have access to the female dorms, so I brought you to my room instead. I hope you don’t mind.”

“…Liam.” It was difficult to talk. “Where’s Liam?”

“Liam? Do you mean Prince William?” Chris seemed even more confused. “He took leave and returned home after you passed out during your training.”

“But…”

“I think he felt a little guilty at not being able to help you match. Not that it’s his fault he can’t form the Connection.”

“I saw him.” I tried to focus my thoughts, but they kept scattering. “I saw him in the Match Room.”

Chris leaned forward, reaching for my hand. I pulled away, but was too weak to break his grip. “Alaira. You’re undergoing mental degradation. The doctor in the infirmary said you were already in the late stages. It’s common to have hallucinations, memories of interactions with people and conversations that never happened.”

I blinked. Could I have imagined the whole thing? Did I want to think that Liam was in the Match Room trying to save me, instead of running away without telling me?

How far gone was I? What was real, and what was just my mind degrading?

Something’s not right.I remembered the needle prick in my arm, and brought my free hand to the spot in confusion.

“What are you rubbing your arm for?”

“I… was stuck with a needle…”

He shook his head. “That didn’t happen. You hit your arm on the wall when you passed out, so it might be a little sore, but that’s it. There was no needle. Your brain just came up with a reason to explain the pain.”

“…”

“It’s okay, Alaira. It’s okay.” Chris squeezed my hand. “It’s normal to be confused, and a little paranoid. Your brain is breaking under the strain of the Connection to your Mech. We’ll help you. You’re going to be okay.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

TOTAL COMPLETION 3%

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN WORLD COLLAPSE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SOUL. PLEASE COMPLETE THE MISSION.

“Alaira? Do you hear me?” Chris called out, concerned.

“I’m… not going to give up. I have to face the Hive. Save… the world.” My thoughts were still jumbled. I wasn’t sure if it was from the drug or mental degradation. What was real and what was fake was blurring.

“You’re not going to be suspended. You’re going to be the most powerful Guardian the world has ever seen, and you’re going to save humanity.”

I looked over at Chris, feeling confused. He wore a pleasant smile on his face, his posture relaxed, but his grip on my hand was just a little too tight, and his eyes…

… His eyes were different. The color, the shape, was the same… but the way he looked at me had changed.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly, forcing the words out through slightly numb lips.

He looked shocked. “What do you mean? It’s me, Chris. We’ve known each other since the first Mock battle in school.” He chuckled. “You kicked my butt, remember?”

“Now I know you aren’t Chris. You haven’t yelled at me that 'you’re going to follow your dream and I can’t stop it' this whole conversation. You’re not Chris. “

He laughed, a light, easy sound. “You’re right, I’ve changed. But I’m still Chris, I promise.” He reached out and patted the back of my hand, still grasped tightly in his own. “You see, I came to a realization: I was jealous of you.”

“…”

“I know, right? Self-insight from me seems like a foreign concept. But from the first day I was in awe of your skills, jealous of your level S abilities.” He sighed, leaning back, still holding my hand, ignoring my attempts to free it. “My only consolation was that you were a loner, that you couldn’t find a Match. It was the one thing that I beat you in.”

“You…”

“I kept trying to brag in front of you, hoping that you would recognize me. Hoping that you would tell me that I was the real deal, that I was a true Guardian. But that doesn’t excuse how poorly I treated you. How my friends treated you.” His regretful gaze held my own. I felt trapped in it. “I’m sorry. I will do better going forward.”

“…” My head was starting to clear, but it was a slow process.

“Seeing you pass out after our fight… seeing you in the infirmary today… in the hallway just now… I can’t ignore this.” He sighed. “You’re breaking down, right in front of me. And I can’t let this happen… not when I can stop it.”

He got off of the chair kneeling next to the bed. He reached out with his other hand, holding mine between both of his palms.

“Alaira… you’ve already have a high resonance match with me. I can save your mind, and help you save the world. It’s such an easy solution.” He smiled at me, without any sign of reluctance at all.

I felt a silent scream of terror and rage build up in my chest. I wanted to reach out and stop him, to silence his next sentence. Despite my wishes, however, his words came out all too clearly:

“I’ll be your Connector.”

[awsugawara]

bnha hcs with an artsy s/o [1/?]

i’m going to make this a mini series, so expect to see this AND haikyuu characters too :) i will also do the k-pop hcs too, so look forward to that !

note: your quirk will be the same all around, if implied you have one!

Quirk: AMBIENT ILLUSION - with a single touch of your hand or glance, you are able to make your opponent think that they’ve been taken to another “realm,” but in actuality their body movements mimic those in the illusion; it’s a quirk that can be used for good or for bad; your creativity isn’t limited, but the side effects are headaches, nausea, and sometimes insanity for a short period of time until your stamina runs out or unless someone knocks you out

Hero Name: Chiaroscuro or Chiasu [for short]- referring to the major contrast of light and dark in an image; in italian it is said to literally mean light-dark

enjoy :)

---

s. aizawa

> teacher x teacher scenario tyvm

> you were a popular teacher at U.A., teaching in some of the general studies classes as an art teacher

> students in class 1-C, D, and E would flaunt how cute/hot and talented their pro hero of an art teacher was

> midnight was gossiping about you with present mic and aizawa overheard

> he knows you have your own agency, so how you double that plus being a teacher was beyond him

> “oh midnight! i was actually looking for you :)”

> aizawa-seeing-a-cutie.exe has stopped working.

> for someone who is low energy and stoic for the most part, this was new

> got more acquainted with the other teachers, but you were really close with aizawa

> funny thing is,,,you and aizawa met up a lot after school and you eventually started dating

> the other pro heroes at the school only found out is when midnight had walked in on them kissing

> the students found out about the relationship when aizawa walked you to your next lecture class as he left class 1-A  with present mic

> aizawa glared at them and as soon as he left, your students pelted you with questions, until the teacher told them to quiet down

--- k. takami 

> keigo is like a SIMP for you

> he practically with go out of his way just to buy you new art stuff

> “babe...i don’t need anymore sketchbook paper...i have an office at the school and they supply my paper-”

> “you can never have enough, my dove”

> you work at U.A. as an art teacher and met keigo when you were walking home from the school

> you had a run in with a villain, who was on a mission to kidnap you and he swooped in to save you 

> your art was scattered all over and some destroyed and keigo caught a glimpse of them and noticed your U.A. badge

> “you’re a teach at U.A.?”

> keigo walks you home, if you chose to stay late to work on your art

> when you first started dating, he was wondering why you would stay so late, and you had to explain your quirk to him

> he wants to be your #1 source of ideas, but he gives you space when you’re truly at an artist roadblock

> when he took you flying for the first time, he vowed to take you every now and then because seeing how your eyes lit up at the city below made it worth while

--- t. shigaraki

> shiggy treats you like glass

> i see him as someone that really admires you and your quirk, let alone your ability to be able to create such fine pieces of art

> you were a lone wolf, who met dabi, who introduced you to the league

> when shigs laid his eyes on you for the first time, he was SMITTEN

> childishly rants to kurogiri when you and dabi are out patrolling

> “why do they always have to go with that burnt piece of shit”

> #getrekteddabi

> shiggy sucks at socializing and it doesn’t help that you always have a resting bitch face™

> you’re actually a softie and a sweetheart at heart, but you notice shiggs advances and are quite confused

> “uhm...hello, tomura-senpai,,,is there something i can help you with?”

> rip shiggy from the CUTENESS

> one day when you didn’t show up at the base and dabi did, shigaraki and kurogiri gave him a look

> “oh, if you’re looking for Chiasu, they’re at home sleeping...idiot stayed up painting again.”

> shiggy left after demanding dabi to reveal their location

> when he got there, he rang the doorbell and questioning why he came because this really isn’t something he does

> “hmm? tomura-senpai? what are you doing here?” **rubs sleep out of your eyes**

> he felt his heart leap

> “i came to see my s/o after being told that they stayed up working. now, are you going to let me in or am i going to have to force myself inside your house?”

--- dabi

>  you were at witz end with your life as a pro hero 

> you weren’t depressed or anything,,,just bored,,,no ideas or fighting spirit

>one day, you had happened to run into dabi committing one of his oversized fires

> he tried reading you, but all he got was just your stoic, almost sad, expression

> you hadn’t moved and he was walking toward you, stopping and moving his face down to your level

> “well, well what do we have here?”

> you hadn’t remembered much from that day, but you hadn’t run into dabi and the only time you really left your house was to get more art supplies and food

> when you were trekking home on the same path, dabi stepped from the shadows in front of you

> you just gave him a blank look and tried to side step him, but obv he didn’t let you

> what happened next was probably the most shocking,,,he embraced you

> you didn’t know what to do other than cry...for losing your fighting spirit

> after that day, dabi would check up on you frequently and eventually he convinced you to stay with him, so he can stay with you

> it took about 2 months to get you to smile and boy was that worth it

> you were grateful of dabi for sparking [pun not intended] your creativity

> “if you’re so grateful, why don’t be mine?”

--- h. toga

> innocent is how toga would describe you

> her attraction to you was much more different than the times where she’d feel the need to cut someone up

> she wanted you in one piece, unharmed

> so she dragged you to be apart of the league of villains with her

> shigaraki was skeptical letting in a quirkless civilian into the league, but he found your ability to design and draw potentially useful

> dabi likes to mess with you to rile up himi

> “you lay another burnt hand on my s/o, i WILL cut you”

> himi doesn’t like the fact you’re close with some of the LOV members, so she whisks you away to her room or somewhere that’s not the base

> if you go to school and you’re adamant in finishing, himi will kinda leave out the villainous aspects of her life so you can finish

> if you go to school and you really don’t care for it, she’ll try to convince you to become a full fledged member of the LOV rather than an associate

> the mission with the yakuza was probably super nerve-wrecking for you after you saw it on the news

> you were greeted with a toga at your door that evening and you just glomped her and expressed how concerned you were, knowing what her role in the mission was

> himi met you online and then began kinda figuring out when you went to your fav cafe and art store and what you like to buy and the such

> attentive, but psycho was how you described her at first, but just accepted that aspect of her 

---

k. chisaki

> for someone who looks like a plague daddy- doctor none of the members of the yakuza would have imagined him dating a cutie with a QUIRK 

> for starters, you kinda once over the media on the yakuza, more so concerned with your art

> so when you accidentally ran into kai one evening, you kinda just shrugged it off and continued to walk home

> he was so confused like didn’t you know who he was?????????

> nonetheless, he saw you again, while you were making your way home from the convenience store with your [fav. drink + snacks]

> “oh hey! i remember you!” **insert tense kai** “you’re that guy from the other day! how are you?” **cue confused kai**

> you didn’t really have much of a reaction when you FINALLY put two and two together on

> “you’re a part of that villainous yakuza, right?” **insert tense kai** “it’s okay i won’t tell, i like you too much to turn you in :)” **cue confused kai**

> he wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned about the fact you’re letting him, a villainous yakuza go, or the fact he is starting to develop feelings for you

> regardless, kai had “kidnapped” you more like you willingly agreed to stay with him, hidden away somewhere, where you were safer

> he allowed you to continue your artistry, but he made sure to stay away at least from that aspect of your life

> he wanted you to feel like you had those forms of freedom with the line of work that he was involved in because he loves you very much

> BONUS: you held a grudge on kai for keeping eri hidden away from you and for what he did to her and got a couple of hits on his ass, but you stayed with her and aizawa after kai was arrested

---

sorry some of these are short or kinda are,,,,idk bad? ^^; 

[handwrittenhello]

(edit made by the wonderful @ghostinthelibrarywrites!)

Summary:

Yennefer stops, sinking into a crouch so that they’re on eye level. “Jaskier. You have a spell placed on you and I need to break it,” she explains.

“A spell?” Contrary to what any sane person would think when told they’ve been bespelled, Jaskier is wide-eyed and excited, the same look he gets as an adult whenever he senses a good story coming on. “What kind?”

“A dangerous one.” She hates to squash that light in his eyes, but it’s true—she doesn’t know what other side effects it might have. She needs to reverse it sooner rather than later—gods forbid it becomes permanent. “Now will you please come here? I’m a sorceress, and I can help.”

Spell after spell after spell she casts, getting more and more complex as she goes, but none work. “Fuck!” she roars as her latest attempt fails, once again.

“Madame Sorceress?” Jaskier asks, brow creasing, worry creeping in. “Is it—did it work?”

“No,” Yennefer replies, and sighs, because she knows what she has to do. Who better to break a curse, after all, than a witcher?

My entry for quick fic this week! Geraskefer, 3k, featuring deaged jaskier—read it here on ao3 or below!

It happens like this: Geralt so rudely decides he’s better off without the company of his very best friend in the whole wide world, and Jaskier thinks, well, fuck this, and goes to find the nearest tavern.

And then—because the gods love to hate him, it seems—he sets one foot inside, sees raven curls and expensive clothing, and immediately turns around and leaves. He’s had enough rejection for one day, thanks, and he’s not sure his poor, sensitive, bardic heart can handle any more barbed words, be they in unlikely jest or not.

“Where are you going, bard?” Yennefer calls, and every eye in the place turns to him. Shit. Well, he knows how to play a crowd, at least.

“Well, you see, I—I’m due a visit to my, um, my elderly grandmother, she—she needs my help, um, corralling her chickens—”

Or not. Why do his stunning intellect and quick tongue always disappear when she’s around?

Yennefer snorts. “Sure you are, and then I assume there’s a cat on a stove somewhere that you need to go save?”

Were it not for years of barding training every and all sense of embarrassment out of him, he’s sure his face would be aflame by now.

“Come have a drink. You’re better company than anyone else in this shit town,” she grumbles, and it’s then that Jaskier spies the numerous empty wine glasses on the table before her.

Misery loves two things—company and copious amounts of alcohol. And if she’s offering…

“You’re buying. I left my coin pouch with G—well. You’re buying,” he says, but he’s already sliding into the chair across from her and flagging down the barman.

A drink turns into two turns into ten, and shit, he can’t even remember why he ever thought maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Yennefer turns out to be much more tolerable when her inhibitions are lowered by drink, uncharitable though it is to think, but really, she’s so much more open, and her cheeks flush so prettily in the candlelight, and she even laughs—not the mean, bitter laugh she does whenever she’s mocking him (which is frequently), but a small flash of teeth, a breathy thing that turns into full-on cackling as it goes.

“I never knew—is this what Geralt sees in you?” Jaskier muses, running a finger along the rim of his glass. Then he pales, realizing what he's just said, and looks up to see that every trace of amusement in her face is gone.

“Whatever he felt for me, it wasn’t real,” Yennefer says harshly, pushing her chair back so fast that it tips backwards and falls to the floor with an audible THUD. She starts towards the stairs, presumably to her room.

Jaskier winces and follows after her, still a bit unsteady, but sobering up quickly in the wake of his gaffe. “Yennefer, wait—”

She’s too fast, and he only barely manages to stick his foot in the doorway before she can slam the door in his face. “Ouch,” he complains, and knows he’ll be feeling it much worse in the morning.

“Go away,” Yennefer hisses. “Don’t you know when a woman has had enough of your company? Or is that why Geralt had to scream it from a mountaintop, to get rid of you?”

Ouch. He flounders, every possible retort dying on his lips. “That’s not fair,” he almost wants to say, except that hurts even worse, so he says nothing. He does withdraw his foot, though, and she’s quick to slam the door, the lock clicking audibly into place moments later.

He thunks his head against the door. Why does he do this? Every time he thinks that someone might tolerate him, might actually want him around, he sticks his foot in his mouth and fucks it up.

“Fuck me,” he mutters to himself, then gathers the strength to peel himself away from the door. He debates for a moment just sleeping right here in the hallway, curled up in front of her door, rather than facing the mortifying ordeal of begging for a room with no coin to promise. But he's just as likely to get hexed as he is thrown out, and, well, at least if he’s thrown out he can sneak into the stables or something. He shudders to think what sort of nasty spells Yennefer could cast on him if she were to trip over him on her way out in the morning.

He sighs and turns to leave, only to hear the lock click again, followed shortly by the knob turning. The door swings open on its own, and, half fearing for his life, Jaskier peeks inside. Yennefer is sitting at a vanity, taking her makeup off, her back to the door.

Her eyes meet his in the mirror, and he yelps, tripping over himself in his haste to retreat. Yennefer rolls her eyes. “Are you going to come in, or are you going to flail around like an idiot?”

“Are you going to harvest my organs and use them for your magicks?”

“No.” He feels a bit better at that, only for her to immediately follow up with, “Your organs aren’t anywhere near good enough.”

He pouts, but edges inside, the door shutting itself behind him. “My organs are perfectly harvestable,” he argues, and then feels quite ridiculous, and shuts up before she actually does harvest them.

“Gods, this was a mistake,” Yennefer mutters under her breath, finishing with her makeup and pulling back the covers on the bed. “You can have the floor. Don’t touch my stuff.”

He gleefully sets his lute case down to claim a space before she can change her mind. He’s touched, really, that she cares enough to offer him this. “Can I have a pillo—” he starts to ask, sneaking a hand up towards the bed, only to yank it away when she smacks it.

“No. Good night, bard.”

Never mind, he’s not as touched.

He sighs and lies down, curling around his lute case like he does on the road. It’s warm, at least, the heat from the kitchen below rising up to warm the floor beneath him. He falls into a deep sleep, hastened by the alcohol, and stays that way for several hours, before his bladder makes its needs known.

Upon waking to see the moon still high in the sky, he groans, reaching a hand up onto the vanity to pull himself up. His questing fingers brush against a vial—whoops—and in his blind fumbling to catch and right it, he ends up knocking over several more bottles. Fuck.

“Sorry, sorry,” he hisses, when Yennefer stirs in bed. Gods, if he's just spilled something important, she really will hex him.

Something important begins to drip onto his hand. Gods fucking damn it. He tries to scrub it away, only for it to begin tingling and burning, quickly spreading up his arm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It’s encompassing his entire body, now, itching and prickling like his skin is too small. “Bard? What are you doing?” Yennefer asks sleepily, sitting bolt upright when she spots the overturned bottle and him scratching frantically as if that will make the sensation go away.

“I didn’t mean to,” he pleads, suddenly very scared, and not just of her. Whatever this enchantment is, it’s spreading fast—will he survive it?

“Is that my fucking anti-aging serum?” Yennefer demands. Jaskier, who has no idea what an anti-aging serum looks like, continues to panic. Even his insides feel weird, guts writhing and bones aching. It’s becoming more and more painful, too, until he can’t stand it anymore, and his vision narrows and darkens and his back hits the floor and then he knows no more.

--

That fucking idiot. That stupid, fumbling imbecile! Yennefer should have known better, really, should have known that the blundering, blithering bard would immediately find the only potentially dangerous thing in the room and spill it all over himself. Really.

She rolled out of bed, a headache already pounding behind her eyes—partially the wine’s influence, yes, but more at the sight in front of her: Jaskier, no longer a long-limbed adult, instead a small, slight child, swimming in silks.

“For the love of fuck,” she sighs, pinching her brow. Her anti-aging serum—which is meant to be used in small doses, one or two drops at the most—she never knew it would have this kind of effect. And now she has to play babysitter to the most annoying person on the Continent, all because he couldn’t keep his hands to his fucking self.

“Wake up,” she orders, refraining from kicking him like she might if he were an adult. She’s mean, but not mean enough to kick a child.

“Hm?” he hums, eyes blinking open, only to freeze when he sees her towering over him. “You’re not Mama,” he says, voice trembling.

Oh, shit. It’s taken his mind as well. For a brief moment, she dares to hope that perhaps he’ll be less trouble like this.

Then he scrambles to his feet and tries to dive out the window.

“Oh no you don’t, you little shit,” she curses, and sends a small spell to trip him up before he can escape. “Stop that.” He stumbles, little palms meeting the wooden floor when he tries to catch himself. She finishes by flicking a finger and latching the window shut, same with the door. The last thing she needs is a de-aged, runaway bard.

Well, if he were to run away, technically he wouldn’t be her problem anymore…

But that’s too heartless, leaving a child on his own like that—and Yennefer can’t deny that her hardened heart has always held a soft spot for children.

That soft spot grows a little softer when Jaskier scoots back against the wall and bursts into loud, messy tears.

She doesn’t know what to do, really, doesn’t know how to comfort him—she can’t remember when she last comforted anyone. “Stop crying,” she orders instead. “Those tears won’t get you anything.”

Incredibly, it works. Whether it’s the shock of being spoken to so harshly, or they were only crocodile tears, she doesn’t know, and doesn’t care. What matters is that he’s finally stopped, and she can actually try and fix this mess now.

“Where’s my mama?” he demands, glaring at her distrustfully. Good, that’s an instinct that will keep him alive someday. “If you want a ransom, then—then Papa says that he won’t pay. Says I’m too much trouble, so you should—you should really just take me home, or else—or else he’ll come here and he’ll kill you.” He lifts his chin defiantly to punctuate his statement.

Well. That’s a lot to unpack, but she’s going to go ahead and shelve that for now. “I haven’t kidnapped you,” she says irritably, then considers the best way to break it to him.

…There is no best way, so she decides not to.

“Then where am I? And who are you?”

“That’s not important. Now come here,” she says, advancing on him and readying a spell that will hopefully reverse the effects of the serum.

He shakes his head, shrinking back further against the wall. His eyes flick between her and the door, and she’s guessing he’s about to make a run for it.

She stops, sinking into a crouch so that they’re on eye level. “Jaskier. It’s very important that I do this. You have a spell placed on you and I need to break it,” she explains.

“A spell?” Contrary to what any sane person would think when told they’ve been bespelled, Jaskier is wide-eyed and excited, the same look he gets as an adult whenever he senses a good story coming on. “What kind?”

“A dangerous one.” She hates to squash that light in his eyes, but it’s true—she doesn’t know what other side effects it might have. She needs to reverse it sooner rather than later—gods forbid it becomes permanent. “Now will you please come here? I’m a sorceress, and I can help.”

He nods, pushing away from the wall and coming to sit in front of her, legs crossed.

“You might feel a tingling, or even a bit of hurt,” she warns, and he nods again, his face creasing in worry and determination.

She’s just about to start when—“Can I hold your hand?” he blurts out. “Mama lets me hold her hand when I—”

She takes his hand before he can launch into some inane explanation. His hand is warm and delicate in hers, no trace of lute callouses to be found. He brightens immediately, gently squeezing their fingers together.

Her eyes, traitors, are getting misty. She angrily clears her throat and begins to cast—the sooner she can reverse this, the better.

Yennefer tries a simple reversal, first. Generic, easy, and evidently not likely to work. No matter. She lets it go and pulls forth another—a spell of speed, to hasten his aging. It fights against her, like drawing a bow, getting more and more difficult as she progresses—she lets that one go, too, lest it snap in her hands like a bowstring rebounding.

Spell after spell after spell, getting more and more complex as she goes, but none work. “Fuck!” she roars as her latest attempt fails, once again.

“Madame Sorceress?” Jaskier asks, brow creasing, worry creeping in. “Is it—did it work?”

“No,” Yennefer replies, and sighs, because she knows what she has to do. Who better to break a curse, after all, than a witcher?

--

“You’re shitting me,” is the first thing Geralt says after Yennefer explains the situation.

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Yennefer yells, while Jaskier cringes behind her skirts. Despite his excitement at getting to meet a real life witcher, the actual experience has since proven to be a bit much for him. “I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice, believe me,” she bites out, and Geralt winces, but wisely chooses not to comment.

“De-aged, then?” Geralt asks, sinking down onto his heels. “You can call me Geralt,” he says, and Jaskier peeks out at him.

“Julian,” Jaskier answers, and Yennefer remembers him introducing himself as such to the dwarves. “You’re a witcher?”

“I am,” Geralt nods. “I’m here to help. Did Yennefer explain what’s going on?”

“She said I had a spell on me. But I don’t feel spelled.”

“Mhmm. They can be tricky like that,” Geralt offers.

“Can we get on with it?” Yennefer asks. “This is all very nice, but we still don’t know what the side effects may be.”

“Fine,” Geralt says, standing up and holding out a hand to Jaskier. “Julian, why don’t you come meet my horse.” Jaskier lights up, latching onto Geralt immediately. Yennefer tries not to mourn the loss—why would she? She’s glad to be rid of the annoying little shit, she tells herself.

Geralt gets him situated with Roach, petting gently over her neck and mane, before returning to Yennefer. “I’ve only ever heard of this happening once before,” he begins. “Woman walked into the woods on An Skellig, came out a little girl.”

“And what happened to her?”

“Locals were stumped, until they remembered the old songs. Tír na nÓg.”

Yennefer scoffs. “Skellige fairy tales? That’s all you’ve got?”

“It’s not just a tale. They took her to the bridge during fog season, let her walk across, and she returned three days later all grown up, and no memory of it.”

Yennefer closes her eyes. It’s the only lead they’ve got, and they both know it. “Skellige it is, then. I can’t portal us all and Roach there, though.”

“Good. I hate portals. We’ll head to Novigrad, catch a merchant ship.”

Setting out on the road together is surprisingly easy. Though the fiery passion between them has simmered down, Yennefer still finds she enjoys Geralt’s company, when she forgets to be angry at him. It helps to have Jaskier there as a buffer, oddly enough—Geralt seems to sense her moods keenly, and often makes himself scarce, taking Jaskier with him to identify herbs as they walk, or carrying him on his shoulders as Jaskier tries to reach the lowest branches of the fruit trees they pass.

And sometimes she finds herself alone with Jaskier when Geralt is off hunting, or tending to Roach, or doing whatever the fuck it is he does when he’s alone. He proves to be, if not a scintillating conversational partner, very eager to learn, especially when she explains magical theories to him.

“When I grow up, I want to be a sorceress!” he proclaims one night, and she can’t help but smile.

“What about a witcher? Last I recall, you wanted to be a witcher yesterday,” she teases.

“I can do both!” Jaskier insists. “A witcher-sorceress. They’ll write songs about me!”

He never really has changed, has he?

--

The journey to An Skellig is largely uneventful—there’s one exciting moment, when they spot a blue whale off the bow of the ship, but other than that, it’s a monotony of rolling waves and bouts of seasickness for Jaskier.

They’re all glad to set foot on dry land when they finally do. They’re so close that Yennefer can taste it—though she can’t deny that young Julian has grown on her, and she’ll almost be sad to see him gone.

She swallows her feeling and continues on, trekking through the woods as Geralt leads them to the bridge to Tír na nÓg. The temperature drops as they go, until Jaskier is shivering atop Roach. Yennefer conjures a cloak for him with hardly a thought, and he throws a grateful smile at her.

They keep on, the forest growing darker, and just when she’s about to demand that they stop for the night and continue on tomorrow, the trees before them break, revealing a breathtaking view.

An arched bridge spans a perfectly placid lake ringed by trees, a fine mist overlaying the whole scene. This must be it—the bridge to Tír na nÓg, the land of youth.

Geralt has instructed Jaskier on what to do over the course of their journey, of course—for neither of them can accompany him. He has to face this trial alone. “Are you ready?” Geralt asks, helping Jaskier down from Roach. Jaskier nods, little face screwed in determination.

Anxiety flutters at Yennefer’s throat as she watches him cross the bridge, and she’s about ready to call it off, but Geralt holds her back. “Let him go,” he says quietly.

Jaskier disappears into the mist, and they begin their wait.

--

It turns out to be not very long at all. The sun is just only beginning to rise when Geralt rouses from his meditation, waking Yennefer as well. He looks out across the bridge, witcher senses focused on something Yennefer can’t.

And then Jaskier appears, back to his normal, adult self, grinning brightly. “Geralt! Yennefer!” he shouts, and breaks into a run. Geralt catches him as he leaps, drawing the witcher into a tight hug. It only lasts a few seconds, and then Jaskier is turning to Yennefer and pulling her into a hug as well. She stiffens, but doesn’t pull away.

“Thank you both for taking care of me. I know I couldn’t have been the easiest child,” he says wryly.

“You were fine,” Geralt says, at the same time Yennefer replies, “I don’t know, you might have been preferable as a child.”

“Rude,” Jaskier pouts, but he’s still hugging her.

There’s still so much they need to talk about—that damned mountain, for one—but right now, it doesn’t feel nearly so important. It’s enough to have this moment of peace, the three of them all reunited and as they should be.

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 01

↳ in a pornographic movie, refers to a series of sex scenes with no plot.

⇁ female reader x hoseok 

⇁ smut, porn star!au

⇁ sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification (not the sexy kind), role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, porn star level dirty talk, stuff that should never happen in a kitchen bc hygiene, daddy kink, impreg kink, rough sex, spanking, a lot of finger sucking, this fic is a poor attempt at social commentary

⇁ 22.5k

. . .

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳ or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | inspired by the piece ‘slut-shaming: pornstars are humans too’ & the life after porn documentaries on netflix. thank u to jordan, eva, amy, venus, addie and lu for being a part of this collab !! *inserts a million heart emojis and a big fat NUT emoticon*

re:warnings, the slut shaming is done by others and can also be considered as internalized oppression. it’s something the reader struggles with and eventually works to overcome. this first part isn’t as smutty as the second but regardless i hope u can bear with me lol. ty, as always, for giving my writing a chance. i hope u enjoy it or at least take something from it !

wall2wall can be read as a sequel to my fic money shot. same disclaimer applies: this story does claim to accurately portray the world of adult entertainment

.

.

.

SCENE 01 - YOU’VE GOT MALE. TAKE 01. ROLL A.

.

Today is just one of those days you wish you had slept straight through. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t be dying from the sheer dullness of having nothing to do.

You huff out a sigh, bored out of your goddamn mind.

Head cradled in the crook of your left palm, you use your available hand to refresh your instagram feed. Much to your disappointment, nothing new shows up. The same video of a dog chasing its own tail plays on but you pay it no heed, the novelty having worn off after the first few times.

The next half hour passes by in a similar fashion, each result proving to be as unavailing as the last. You’d think that after a while you’d give up and find a new distraction to pass the time but whether out of habit or boredom-induced insanity, you persist with your fruitless attempts.

Today really fucking blows, you think glumly, the curve of your mouth thinning into a grimace. As the adorable corgie keeps the infernal cycle going, yapping and running around incessantly, you’re struck with a terrifying thought. Maybe this is how you will die - condemned to live your life stuck in the worst sort of monotony imaginable.

What you had expected to be a “quick and easy” shoot has turned into a tedious ordeal that you don’t see ending anytime soon. And whilst on-set complications and prolongations are frequent enough that they’re almost expected, today really takes the cake. Even during your rookie days, you can’t recall running into delays of this scale.

To top it off, the weather app announces a record-breaking heat - which in itself is bad enough. As luck would have it, it gets worse. The place rented out for today’s filming lacks proper air conditioning, equipped instead with electric fans that look like they’ve been around since the 1980s.

A quick glance into the vanity mirror confirms that you look as frazzled as you feel. Because of the humidity level that weighs down the air, your hair is in a right state. You fight a grimace off your face. The straggly hair coupled with the oily sheen on your face...it’s far from your best look, to say the least.

And to think thousands of people will get to see it up close in 1080p resolution... It’s a terrifying concept.

You’re already dreading the upcoming sex scenes that you’ve yet to film. It’s always a messy affair - fluids of all kind end up literally everywhere - but the sweltering heat undoubtedly makes it ten times worse. A shudder works its way down your spine.

Frankly speaking, the mere thought of having hot and wild sex in these less than ideal working conditions kills your libido. Under the glaring studio lights, surrounded by sweaty crewmen and pressed up an equally feverish body - it’s basically the porn equivalent of a fuckin’ barbecue party.

Yeah, no thanks. You’d rather be at home, with the air conditioner at full blast, nestled in the comfy cushions of your sofa as you marathon a series of your choice on netflix. Only the promised sum of money keeps you from bolting and calling it quits altogether.

“So when are you gonna drop the new boy toy?” a voice buzzes in your ear not unlike a pesky fly.

Tempting as it is to ignore it, you peel your eyes away from your reflection just in time to catch Seokjin shoot you the most unimpressed look in his repertoire, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arched in judgment.

In the background, an old ceiling fan whirs on but does nothing to cool you off. If anything, its constant rattling only exacerbates your growing headache.

“What are you talking about?" You flick a piece of imaginary lint off your dressing robe, your tone neutral.

Seokjin’s brown eyes see right through your feigned air of indifference. Months of working by your side have made him an expert at reading your body language, be it naked or clothed. A wolfish grin adorns his face as he swoops in for the kill.

“Oh come on. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Jongmin. He’s short - comes up to right about here.” Seokjin holds a hand up to his chest to illustrate his point, deliberately shaving off a few inches off your boyfriend’s height in order to antagonize you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, careful not to spit out the retort that’s perched on the tip of your tongue. It takes a great deal of effort to unclench the muscles in your jaw but you manage to school your features into an expression of polite confusion.

Seokjin frowns, dissatisfied with your lack of response. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that he’s currently thinking of new ways to provoke you.

When the silence stretches on and he’s yet to riposte, you allow yourself  to relax again, believing that he’s given up on being an asshole.

To your chagrin, you’re sorely mistaken. The last of your self-restraint is finally put to the test as his next words do nothing to quell your irritation.

“Jongmin.” He repeats slowly, like you need it spelled out for you. “He follows you around everywhere like a lap dog. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so, you know, pathetic.”

“His name is Jimin,” you correct for the nth time.

Instantly, you reprimand yourself for playing into his games and granting him the attention he so craves. Fulfilling his twisted desire is the last thing you hope to achieve. Staying silent would be the sensible thing to do but your brain completely bypasses the memo. The moment your mouth opens it’s impossible to quash the urge to justify yourself.

Maybe it’s your pride coming into play. Maybe it’s Seokjin’s uncanny ability to get under anyone’s skin at will. Whatever the case may be, you stammer out, on the defensive, “And he’s not my 'boy toy'. We - it’s not - we’re dating.” But the word feels like a weight on your tongue. You swallow.

The statement earns you a scoff of incredulity. “Dating? Him?”

You finally set your phone down and aim a glare his way, abandoning all pretense at being indifferent because—Jesus. Is the idea of you dating that unfathomable? He’s never been this worked up over any of your other relationships. Granted, none of them have ever lasted this long but is it really any of his business who you choose to see in your free time?

“I don’t get what your problem is. What’s so wrong with me dating?”

“Have you seen who you’re dating?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

While this isn’t the first time your agent lets a judgmental comment slip from between his pearly white teeth, it’s usually not laced with spite. Seokjin is never outright hostile, preferring sweet words of manipulation and thinly-veiled insults to shows of aggression. The attempt to get a rise out of you does not go by unnoticed. His anger, this time, feels personal.

You wrack your brain, quickly sifting through your recent memories to try and figure out why he’s chosen to be such an ass today. You’re certain that you’ve filled out all the necessary paperwork required to proceed with today’s filming, and yes, after thinking it over, you know that you went to the obligatory medical checkup last week. So there really is no reason for him to bitch at you unless—

The proverbial light bulb flickers on and it all suddenly makes sense.

You’re willing to bet a hefty sum of money that the high-paying gig you turned down two weekends ago is to blame for his abnormal crotchety behavior.

Yes, that would explain it.

Due to Seokjin's well-known propensity to hold a grudge for longer than average, the odds that he’s still hung up over the lost deal are pretty high. And as much as his disappointment and frustration are understandable from a business standpoint, you don’t appreciate being used as a verbal punching bag for him to expel all those pent-up feelings.

Seokjin hums, a knowing smirk pulling the sides of his mouth upwards. Fleetingly, and not for the first time, you find it a shame that his cockiness tarnishes his otherwise handsome face. “I give it another couple of days until you get bored. How long has this gone on for? A month? How are you not yanking out your hair from the sheer boredom of dating...that."

A muscle in your jaw ticks.

“He’s not Voldemort, you coward. Would it honestly kill you to say his name?” Seokjin’s expression begs to differ. You cut him off before he can add fuel to the fire. “And I won’t get bored. Jimin’s - he’s a perfectly nice guy. We’ve been seeing each other just fine—not that it’s any of your concern.”

“Yes, he’s nice,” Seokjin concedes easily, brushing off any attempts at putting an end to the conversation. He grins, wide and smug, like he knows you can’t refute what he’ll say next. “Perfectly nice and boring. The kind of guy you’d bring back home if your parents were straight-laced folks that wanted to marry you off to a choir boy. Seriously, how the fuck did a guy like him end up in the porn industry? He belongs in a church or, I dunno, maybe some neighborhood book club - not behind a camera filming you getting flogged by a daddy dom.”

You sniff. “Just because he tucks his shirts in doesn’t—”

“It’s not just the shirts, honey.” He leans over to pat your hand in a gesture of consolation. Used to his antics, his attempt is easily blocked by a swat of your hand.

You muster the dirtiest look you’re capable of, the kind of look that sends men to early graves, but he simply smiles in response, completely unfazed.

Any person with the minimum amount of tact would know to politely change the subject. It’s unfortunate that your agent does not belong to that pool of individuals, choosing instead to be selectively blind to overt social cues.

He continues on, unperturbed, like he has a point to prove. “Believe it or not, I know you. Sometimes, for whatever reason, perhaps a lapse in judgement but who the fuck knows, you like to venture out of your comfort zone and experiment. Like with the chickenshit gingerbread spice concoctions they come out with at Starbucks to celebrate turkey season and Christmas or the cream cheese makis they make for the white crowd who want to eat sushi but don’t like anything other than white rice and seaweed. And, trust me, while I’m all for diversity and broadening your personal experiences, don’t you think there’s a reason why you always go back to your preferred choice of an iced latte with two sugars?”

“Did you just compare Jimin to a gingerbread latte?”

Okay, so admittedly you’ve made some questionable food and beverage choices in the past, but the comparison is a fucking reach. 

“You’re absolutely right." Seokjin gives a firm nod of his head, his expression serious. "Now that you mention it, he’s definitely a vanilla soy. Bland and boring. Targeted towards the middle-aged soccer moms that think veganism is a trend, not a lifestyle. Wants to be a people-pleaser but misses the mark.”

“I didn’t know it was Share Your Unwanted Opinion Time,” you grind out from behind a strained smile. “If I had, I would have said something about your receding hairline earlier.”

It’s a low blow but the way Seokjin’s plump lips curl in displeasure makes the dig worth it. One of his hands automatically shoot up to flatten the bangs that are usually slicked back with copious amounts of gel.

Offended, he spits, “It’s not receding! There’s a difference between premature balding and a bleach job gone wrong.”

"I'm not sure people care to differentiate. Looks like a receding hairline to me." You shrug while picking at your nails. “You’re nearing that age, too, so.”

“You just try looking this good at 30. Fucking try.” 

He waits for a reply but your interest has already waned. You scroll through your phone, bored once more.

Seokjin makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat at the clear dismissal. You swear you hear him grumble under his breath - something along the lines of never going blonde again - but can’t find it in you to care, not when he’s finally ceased his nagging.

"Filming in twenty!" someone shouts from outside the door.

"They’re running behind schedule," Seokjin notes after glancing down at his gold wristwatch. "How can they take more than an hour to fix the lighting? Tch. Bunch of fuckin’ amateurs."

He aims a glare in your direction as if their incompetence is somehow your fault. 

You have half a mind to glower back but miraculously withhold your sentiments. Admittedly, he isn’t wrong - the team you’re working with today keeps committing blunders even rookies wouldn’t dare perpetrate - but you’d rather get your driving license revoked forever than to acknowledge that Seokjin’s right and inflate his already unnaturally huge ego.

Something heavy plops into your lap. When you look down, the glossy surface of a magazine reflects the harsh lights suspended over the vanity table back at you.

“I didn’t want to resort to this but you leave me no choice,” he says in response to your look of confusion.

“What’s this?”

You hold up the magazine expecting the worst. It’s heavy in your hands, the pages thicker than the gossip rags you’d find in a dentist’s waiting room. 

“’s the newest issue. Came out this morning. I’d actually like it back once you’re done because I haven’t finished reading it and God knows how hard it was to get my—hey, you can stop flicking aimlessly, I saved you the trouble and bookmarked the page,” Seokjin explains a bit impatiently.

When you shoot him a glance, his attention is trained on your face, not the magazine. He barely blinks. Like a snake honing in on its prey. And that kind of intense focus - that can’t be good. After all, you’ve known Seokjin long enough to suspect that whatever trick he has up his sleeve will give him the advantage he needs to deliver the killing blow.

Gingerly, you flip through the pages like you’re afraid the magazine might self-destruct in your hands. Which would be a waste, in your opinion, since Exquis is a damn good magazine - perhaps less intellectual than Playboy, but definitely classier than Hustler. Its reputation speaks for itself. Known for hiring the best photographers and carefully combing through their models, it’s selective, only picking the cream of the cr—

Everything around you stills.

Your eyes narrow at the spread because there, on the page Seokjin’s taken great care to bookmark, a model poses provocatively on a lounge chaise near a crystal clear pool. It’s similar to a shoot you’ve done in the past but you can tell right away that the quality of this is above and beyond anything you’ve ever done. The lighting is better, heck even the barely-there-swimsuit looks like it costs ten times more than whatever you had been told to throw on at the time.

The vexation you feel only worsens once it finally registers who the model is. Her youthful and pretty face carries a permanent haughtiness that not even makeup or acting can entirely mask.

The pages crease in your hold as you flick through the rest of the spread dedicated to the up and coming talents. With every new page that has her plastered on its glossy surface you feel your stomach sink. 

2...3...4...

“Five pages,” you curse under your breath. For a magazine this renowned, it’s...a lot. Commendable, even. Your nose crinkles. “Well, fuck. me. sideways.”

Seokjin gloats, reveling in your outrage. “Hmph. I told you, didn’t I? Passing up the opportunity to work with Kim Namjoon would come and bite you in the ass.”

“Aha! So you have been a little bitch because I refused to shoot with Namjoon.” You whirl around in your chair and use the magazine to jab him in the chest. He easily steps aside, avoiding your attempt at wrinkling his trademark Armani button-down shirt.

“It was the chance of a lifetime and you knew it.” He turns his nose up and sniffs.

“That’s what you said about filming with Min Yoongi last month.” You roll your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously if you’re gonna say the same thing every time a new guy shows up.”

“Shooting with Agust D did help you gain some mainstream popularity. You’ve gotten love calls for catalog printings and your name is now automatically on the invite sheet for every C-list event in town. Namjoon would have given you another needed boost.” Seokjin folds his arms, lecturing mode switched on. You struggle with the instinctive urge to tune him out. “Sure, he’s got a niche audience, but he’s famous in his field and it would have helped expand your fa—“

“Not to kink shame or anything because we don’t do that, but Namjoon is a freak. And don’t deny it, I’ve seen his videos.”

“He’s specialized in particular—“

“You were the one telling me not to film all sorts of shit right off the bat,” you cut in, refusing to back down from your stance. There’s no way you’ll let him sweet-talk you out of this one, not after the multiple videos of Namjoon you’d binged one weekend. “Stick to one story.”

“Well, we’re not exactly ‘right off the bat’ anymore, are we? We’ve passed that stage. Right now is a crucial time in your career so you’ve got to make it count. Filming rehashed videos of the same pizza delivery guy scenario gets boring and fast. As pretty as you are, you’re not offering anything new to the table, are you?”

Fuck him. He’s right and you know it. Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman.

Still. “I refuse to work with a guy whose porn alias is Cock Monster.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Well I said no,” you insist stubbornly.

“Well if you had said yes, maybe it would be your ass cheeks getting their own two page spread in Exquis instead,” jabs Seokjin, hitting you where it hurts. 

Ugh. The reminder that Joy’s bested you yet again riles you up even more. That, coupled with the likelihood of your career ending imminently, makes you stop and think.

Your agent goes on to say, “Don’t you want the AVN for best newcomer? Where did that competitive edge go? At the rate this is going, Joy’s going to steal it from right under your nose.”

“Like fucking hell,” you hiss. The magazine bends under the strength of your grip. “That one’s mine.”

You absolutely refuse to lose out to her. Every fiber of your being rejects the idea of letting her one-up you again.

“Not if you don’t start branching out. The last time you did anything substantial or interesting was about a month ago. It’s already old news. People are going to forget you shot that sequence altogether if you don’t do anything that puts you back on the map.”

A pause. “…I really don’t want to film with someone who willingly named himself Cock Mons—”

“Fine.” Seokjin heaves a resigned sigh. “You don’t have to fuck the monster willy. Willy monster? Hm. Wouldn’t it make more sense to name himself Monster Cock and not Cock Monster? Wonder why he does th—”

You suppress a snort. “Please spare me while you can. It’s amazing, that talent for making everything sound a lot worse than it already it is.”

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“You trying to insult someone who’s willing to find you someone else to work with? I can always ask Monster Meatstick if he’s up for—”

“No! No, that’s - not necessary.” You force out a smile that wouldn’t fool anyone into thinking its genuine. “Why would I ever insult you? You’re the best agent one could ask for.”

“That’s what I thought.” He takes your compliment, forced or not. When he smiles, smugness rolls off of him in waves. “One day you’ll realize you’re taking my talent for granted. I’ll find you another onscreen partner even though you don’t know what you’re missing out.”

“Thank you.”

“But!” He interjects and this time you don’t bother swallowing down your groan, already dreading the stipulations he has in store for you. “You have to promise to hold up your end of the bargain and try your best.”

Indignation colors your face. Your mouth falls open, retort at the ready. “When do I ever slack off on the job?! I’ve never given a half-assed blowjob in my life - and trust me, the temptation was there. Do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when the guy can’t cum on command? I once had to get my jaw realigned.”

“I’m not saying you’re slacking off,” he backtracks, switching tactics. His expression is soon replaced by the business-like smile you’re used to seeing on the regular. Tone buttery and appeasing, he tries to convince you through flattery instead. “You work hard and do a good job… I wouldn’t have signed you on otherwise. The problem isn’t with the quality of your work but with - all the rest.”

“The rest?” you parrot back dumbly, trying and failing to comprehend.

Seokjin scowl returns, unable to keep his genuine emotions under wraps.

“D’you honestly think you’re at a point in your career where you can pick and choose your jobs like this? Ever since you started dating that - that thing - your workload has significantly decreased. And not because you lacked opportunities. You had them but you turned them all down.” Visibly getting worked up over the issue, his voice rises an octave, then two. “What should’ve been a good spring board, only brought you back to square one. I know I can’t force you to take jobs if you refuse to, but I can say that your potential is going to waste. I’ve never seen someone sabotage herself like this before and it’s driving me up the wall. While I get that you’re under the delusion that you’ve found true love or whatever Disney fantasy Jungmin has sold you, you can’t turn down projects over and over again without there being serious repercussions. You’re smart enough to know this. I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

Seokjin’s chest heaves as he takes in several big gulps of air, visibly out of breath after his monologue.

For him to explode like popcorn kennels in the microwave... You reckon he’d let his feelings pile up inside him for a while, silently stewing.

You’ve never seen your agent look so visibly distressed. He’s normally the picture-perfect image of composure so the sight that greets you is enough of a shock to render you speechless.

Deep down, Seokjin probably means well. There aren’t a lot of agents like him; you’re one of the lucky ones. Most girls are discarded by their agencies as quickly as used tissues once they get milked for all their worth. 

Thankfully it’s never been that way with Seokjin. He claims that he’s in it for the long run. According to him the quick buck isn’t worth seeing the light die out in girl after girl. Perhaps that’s why he takes the task of ensuring your safety so seriously. How many times has he warned you to steer clear of this or that seedy director or ban you from attending drug-heavy parties? While his behavior can come off as overbearing on the worst days, at least he cares.

Sadly, it’s more than you can say for most.

In a way, he’s the only one in this business rooting for your success—if only because his paycheck depends on how well you perform. You like to pretend there’s more to it than that.

“I’m not - what’s Jimin got to do with any of this?” you splutter, still digesting the long tirade you’ve just been subjected to. 

“Are you serious? That’s all you got from what I said?”

“Well, no, but I still fail to—”

“Do you think me a fool?” He crosses his arms tightly across his broad chest. “The only scenes you’re willing to shoot are when he’s on set. Are you a kid or something? Since when do you need supervision to shoot a sex scene?”

“N-no. It just worked out that way, okay?” In reply to his dubious expression, you force yourself to explain. “Okay, okay - I get it. Maybe I might’ve lessened my workload recently but it has nothing to do with Jimin, alright? My vagina needs rest from time to time. Just because it’s my job doesn’t mean I don’t need a break. I’m human too, not some blow-up doll.”

“You expect me to believe that he has nothing to do with it? You were perfectly fine before he entered the picture. And now that you’re all loved up you only pick—”

A knock, so timid you barely catch it, cuts off the rest of his sentence.

“Yeah? Come in, I’m decent!” you yell - not that you care whether someone sees you naked or not. The concept of modesty has long been lost on you. Some might call it shamelessness or vanity, but you take pride in how you look. And why wouldn’t you? Your body is your bread and butter. You spend hours in the gym every week so that your ass looks good no matter what camera angle.

“It’s me.”

The door opens a crack and the speaker tentatively sticks his mop of hair through the small opening. As soon as you recognize him, your heart leaps at the sight and you quickly tighten your robe together.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

You resist the urge to throttle him and plaster on your brightest smile instead.

“I wanted to see how you were doing. Sorry I took so long... I would’ve come earlier but they needed my help.” Jimin scratches a spot behind his ear, sheepish. “Someone tripped over the cables and smashed a camera lens so we had to find a replacement. The director threw a fit and wanted to call it quits so we’ve been trying to calm him down this entire time. He did - eventually, anyway, after he called his dealer on set.”

A disapproving frown tugs at his mouth corners and mars his otherwise perfect appearance.

You take a moment to swoon internally. You’ll never get tired of admiring your boyfriend. Unlike the majority of the on-set personnel, he doesn’t reek of weed or booze or stale cigarette smoke. His ironed clothes and immaculate appearance always make it easy to spot him amidst the hungover crew.

“That’s fine! I kept myself busy.”

Jimin returns your smile, his eyes creasing into beautiful half-moon crescents. You don’t know what kind of love-struck expression covers your face but next to you Seokjin makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a gag and a cough.

“Oh! Here, I brought snacks. I didn’t know what you liked so I just grabbed everything I could get my hands on.” He holds up a paper plate stacked with treats no doubt stolen from the catering service. “I know I kind of went overboard but I wanted to make sure you kept your sugar level up.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you coo, reaching to take the plate from him. He’s piled on the sweets so high that it’s a miracle nothing has toppled over yet. You aren’t especially hungry but take a bite out of a chocolate candy to show how much you appreciate the effort. Its gooey consistency melts on your tongue, the taste so sweet it sticks to your teeth.

“How adorable,” chimes in Seokjin, his hand grabbing a licorice stick from the mountain of candy before you can swat him away. “Thanks Jongmin.”

“Jimin,” he corrects good-naturedly, his smile not budging an inch. You think, privately, that’s what you like the most about him. Not many have the ability to block out Seokjin’s bullshit so effectively.

“Mmh,” your manager says around a mouthful of candy. “Seokjin. Pleasure.”

You elbow him while gritting your teeth. “Can you...give us a moment?”

Seokjin swallows down the treat and opens his mouth in protest. He has the audacity to look betrayed. “You’re kicking me out of our room so the two of you can get it on? Really?” 

Jimin’s cheeks flush and you quickly cut in before your agent can make matters worse.

"I just want to talk without you breathing down my neck. Weren’t you going off earlier about how I didn’t need adult supervision anymore? Well?”

“Fine. Fine! But you owe me. Again.” He grabs his portable phone charger from the vanity table before making his exit. “And don’t forget what we talked about!”

What a fucking drama queen. You have no idea why he always insists on making a scene when you know for a fact that he would’ve left of his own volition in five minutes anyway. For reasons he has no trouble disclosing, he can’t stand Jimin’s presence.

“I won’t,” you grumble just so that you can get him out of your hair faster.

The door slams shut with more force than strictly necessary. Silence hangs in the air for a brief moment before Jimin turns his warm gaze towards you.

“What was that about?” 

“Uh, nothing. You know how he is...” You play with the ends of your braided hair. “He can’t go very long without throwing a tantrum.’

“He seems very protective of you,” remarks Jimin, a thoughtful expression painting his angelic face. “I think that’s why he’s not that fond of me.”

“Nonsense,” you rebut immediately as you take his hands in yours. “Who could ever not like you?”

Jimin allows his lips to quirk into a small, self-deprecating smile that you promptly erase with a kiss. His lips feel pillow-soft against yours, and you let yoruself indulge in the feeling before pulling back.

You sigh, remembering the scene you’ve yet to film. “If only my co-star was you.”

He laughs at that. “Seokjin would probably throw a fit, huh?”

.

.

Jimin treats you to dinner that night.

He chooses the restaurant. It’s a small, quaint place, tucked into a hidden corner just minutes away from the bustling main street of the shopping district. It’s not the kind of place people stumble across by accident but judging by the occupied tables, business is doing fine by reputation alone.

The owner comes out to greet Jimin by name. They exchange warm greetings, the woman asking him how his brother’s been doing and whether he’ll stop by anytime soon.

“Ah - I’m not sure... You know how he is... I’ll let him know you said hi.”

“Tell him I’ll give him an extra serving of ribs. That was his favorite, right?”

When her eyes trail over Jimin’s shoulder and spot you, she grins so wide you’d think she won the lottery or something. “Park Jimin! You’ve gone and found a girlfriend! And so pretty, too. Ah, really...time sure flies by. I remember when you first started coming here - and now!”

You smile back, greeting her with a polite handshake. The owner is quick to usher you into a small booth in the back. She hands you the menus while patting Jimin on his shoulder. “I’ll get you drinks. It’s on the house.”

“You don’t have to do that!” protests Jimin, shaking his head. “Really. It’s not—”

“Nonsense.” She waves a hand at him. “You’ll get two more if you keep that up, Park Jimin.”

Once she knows she’s earned Jimin’s compliance, she leaves with a satisfied smile. You can tell by their genuine interactions that she’s close to Jimin. Family, perhaps? Either way, this isn’t a place Jimin tracked down on yelp. He flips through the menu with ease, like he’s done it hundreds of times before. 

“Sorry about that,” he says once she’s out of earshot. “I used to come here all the time with my family when we all still lived here. They moved and live in a different town now so we haven’t had a meal together here in years, but. I still come here. The food is good, of course, but - I dunno. I have good memories here so I thought I’d share it with you. It sounds stupid now.”

He laughs quietly, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. 

“I love it.” You can’t help but smile, cheeks hurting from the force of it. Invisible liquor runs through your bloodstream, a ball of warmth unfurling in your belly. “Thank you.”

A pause ensues. It’s one of those moments in which you’re unsure if you’ve said too much or not enough. Being here with Jimin means a lot. You’re not the most verbose person but you hope that Jimin can feel your sincerity.

Maybe your stare comes off as too intense because Jimin breaks the eye contact and clears his throat.

He fiddles with his earring and says, “The food is really good!”

Pink dots his cheeks as he attempts to change the subject. “I don’t know how long the place has been around for but the food is exactly the same. Apparently it’s the sauce they use? Auntie still won’t share the recipes with me and I’ve known her since I was a kid.”

He chatters on, gaining confidence when he notices you’re not put off or bored by his numerous anecdotes. As time passes by, he’s visibly more relaxed. His laugh is more natural, less restrained, like he’s using all the muscles in his face and not just the ones near his mouth.

It’s a stark difference from the first date, you think. Back then he had come off as quite shy, preferring to let you lead the conversation, only offering up tidbits from time to time. Now the conversation flows easily. Nothing feels forced or awkward and - it’s nice. The normalcy of it. Like a hot cup of tea before bed or the scent of the fabric softener your mother uses. It’s something you find comfort in, that you can see yourself coming back to and not growing tired of.

Seokjin can say what he wants - that Jimin’s too uninteresting, that you’re too mismatched of a couple - whatever. 

Jimin likes you for you.

When you’re out on dates or when the two of you talk on the phone late into the evening, he rarely brings up your job. Instead, he asks you questions about your favorite TV shows, your dipping sauce preferences, the first album you purchased. These small details might seem inconsequential to others but to you, they’re a welcome breath of fresh air.

For all the talks of Jimin being too average and too normal, men like him are in reality surprisingly hard to come by.

Because what you haven’t failed to notice since you began your career as a porn star is that people love the idea of you. People who avidly watch you from their laptop screen in the comfort of their own home think that you’re some type of sex goddess - that you’re basically up for anything. In their minds, you’re a fun girl who loves sex, all kinds of sex, any kind of sex, and who doesn’t have any qualities or attributes other than making people cum until their limbs go numb.

Your feelings? Not really important. Feelings would make you human and being human would ruin their favorite fantasy.

That’s what takes you a while to learn - you don’t get paid to have sex, you get paid to sell dreams.

It doesn’t bother you at first. In a way, you think, it’s like acting. The porn star people jerk off to daily is a character you play, a mask you can take off at your leisure once the camera director yells ‘cut!’.

Very quickly, you learn people don’t share the same sentiment. To them, the line that distinguishes you from your job persona isn’t blurry - it simply doesn’t exist.

In the beginning, you’d stayed optimistic. Once people get to know you past the image they’ve built up in their heads, surely they’ll realize you’re not a sex-craved addict who only has dick on the brain, right? But with every new date you accept to go on, the reality of your situation only leaves room for disappointment and barely reigned in revulsion.

Even in non-romantic situations, people let you down. Old classmates, neighbors... It pisses you off that they assume you have no self-worth just because you’re a sex worker. Stevie from 308 down the hall once tried throwing crumpled bills at you, expecting you to crawl over to him for a fifty. The memory is enough to set your blood boiling. You can’t wait until you earn big enough bucks to move out of your shitty apartment into a nice high-rise penthouse, away and above all the scum of the Earth.

“You okay?” asks Jimin, noticing the crease that burrows your brow. “The food alright?”

You blink several times, belatedly realizing you had zoned out. Guilt and embarrassment well up within you.

“M’yeah,” you swallow down the spoonful of stew stuffed in your mouth. “Sorry.”

Jimin chews his bottom lip. Finally, he settles with, “Tell me if I’m boring you.”

“No, no! You’re not.” His evident doubt does nothing to alleviate the sudden nausea swarming your lower belly. “I’m serious, Jimin. I’m - Sorry if I gave off that impression. I just - I have a lot on my mind but you’re lovely. I’d tell you if you were - you know. Promise.”

“Would you? Sometimes I think you’re too nice.” It’s not delivered as an insult, but it doesn’t exactly sound like praise, either. 

You force out a snort. “Heh. Wish you’d tell Seokjin that.”

“He’s not too cross with me, is he?” Jimin’s expression looks awkward, like he’s forcing his facial muscles to stay relaxed and mien nonchalant.

“Wh- oh, you mean because of earlier? He isn’t. That’s not him being angry. It’s not even you. It’s me. We just have - a slight difference in opinions, I suppose. If you can even call it that.”

“He doesn’t want you to date me,” concludes Jimin.

The frustrations you’d repressed earlier in the day come back. Why does Seokjin’s opinion matter? You huff, putting your spoon down.

“He’s not my dad. And even if he was, I’m grown. I can make my own decisions.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it... It’s not like it’s any of his business in the first place.”

“Still...” Jimin says, unsure. “He’s your agent. I wouldn’t want the relation between you to sour because of me.”

“Honestly, I’m convinced it’s not even you he has a problem with. We talked about it today and I think he’s getting antsy because, um, you know, I haven’t accepted any big offers lately. Like, I’m staying too much in my comfort zone or something. He says that in the long run that can be detrimental to my career.”

It’s a bit strange, discussing your work with Jimin. You both work in the same industry, Jimin as a second camera assistant and you as an adult entertainer, but outside of filming sets, you rarely acknowledge what the other person does for a living.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He wants me to branch out and try new things.”

“What, you mean anal? Gangbangs?”

“Um, yeah. All that, probably...” You have to blink several times because of the shock of hearing Jimin say that so casually. “...Is that okay?”

“Huh?” Jimin in turn blinks at you, like your question doesn’t properly register. “Oh, yeah, sure. I’m fine with it. You said it’ll be good for your career?”

“Apparently.”

“Then, yeah.” He shrugs like he isn’t bothered by the news at all. “Of course that’s okay.”

A part of you wants to push the issue, ask him why he’d be fine with his girlfriend filming intense sex scenes with random men, but that inner voice is snuffed out before the poisonous thought has time to take root.

Isn’t this what you always wanted? A boyfriend who is accepting and understanding of your profession?

You wash down your worries with a gulp or two of soju, determined not to let your own insecurities ruin the rest of your night.

.

.

Less than 24 hours after you’ve agreed to work on a worthwhile project of Seokjin’s choosing, a slew of texts blow up your phone. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s your agent. A quick scroll through your phone reveals that your agent has left you with no less than 15 messages, 1 voicemail, and 3 e-mails.

It’s...a lot. You’ve grown to expect that kind of fanfare with him. Like any man who deals with legally binding contracts on a daily basis, Seokjin ensures that you keep your word. He can be extremely persuasive when he sets his mind to it. You’ve seen men and women alike succumb to the force of his magnetism. Back when your filmography had solely consisted of amateur sex tapes shot in bad lighting with low-grade filming equipment, Seokjin's charms alone had been sufficient to win over lukewarm casting directors and book you jobs.

SEOKJIN : hey!!!!!!!!

SEOKJIN : ???

SEOKJIN : wow. you’re leaving me on read.........the audacity. 

SEOKJIN : i raised you on my back and this is how you repay me?

SEOKJIN : do you not respect your elders in your household?

SEOKJIN : i swear if you’re blowing me off for jimmy instead of answering your calls .........

SEOKJIN : or blowing jimmy. either one.

SEOKJIN : ok it’s been 10 min. i’m chill but not that chill.

SEOKJIN : can you please stop sucking dick and read your emails. it’s important.

YOU : ever heard of multitasking? god gave us two hands for a reason

SEOKJIN : oh. nasty.

SEOKJIN : way to ruin my lunch.

SEOKJIN : well. suck down that nut sauce asap

SEOKJIN : cos what i sent you needs your undivided attention

YOU : i’m nasty?? me????

YOU : you don’t hear me saying nUT SAUCE you freak

SEOKJIN : nutté sauce

SEOKJIN : there. fixed it.

YOU : ...that’s not even a thing

SEOKJIN : well it should be!

SEOKJIN : adding accents makes it instantly classier, don’t you think? nutté sauce. has a nice ring to it.

SEOKJIN : honestly. sounds like some fancy four star french starter now.

YOU : ???? it absolutely doesn’t but ok

SEOKJIN : imagine. during a scene you just yell out

SEOKJIN : “i’d like a serving of your nutté sauce to go”

YOU : dicks would shrivel up on the spot

SEOKJIN : what? i think it’s brilliant!

SEOKJIN : my talent is wasted as an agent. should’ve been a scriptwriter instead.

YOU : yes i’m sure the oscars are weeping over the missed opportunity

He takes your sarcasm at face value, feeding you more ridiculous variants of faux french cum lingo—that which you very wisely choose not to reply to. Instead of humoring him, you open the .pdf file he’s sent your way, ignoring the near-constant buzzing of your phone as he’s no doubt pestering you for an immediate answer.

Had it not been necessary for business, you’d have blocked his number ages ago. In fact, after that nut sauce comment you’re seriously reconsidering, business obligations be damned. 

To his credit, the film project he suggests you work on doesn't sound half-bad despite its questionable title. Why anyone would choose to name it THE SPERMINATOR is beyond you.

As you read through the proposition, you’re surprised to find it’s tamer than the initial imaginary scenario you’d played out in your head. Expecting to read through a long list of unnameable kinks and dicks, the scene description is rather domestic all things considered.

Your shoulders sag in relief. You enjoy sex as much as the next person, but even you have limits you’re not willing or eager to cross. You’re a human being, first and foremost, and, contrary to popular belief, not competing in the sex olympics.

From what you’ve read so far, nothing in Seokjin’s offer seems too strenuous or perverse. The scene in question is centered around a young, newly married couple trying to conceive for the first time and the sex acts are described as “romantic insemination” - whatever the fuck that means. The only complication you can think of is that you’ve never played the part of a married couple before. None of your previous films specifically target couples or women. Is romance something you can sell accordingly?

You’re quick to shake the concern off once you remember that no one cares if your acting is shit or not. All you probably have to do is yell out ‘Daddy’ a few times mid-thrust and call it a day.

Honestly, you’re a bit disappointed in Seokjin for choosing such a safe, no-risk project - especially since he constantly advocates the risk-return trade off as the way to live by. But you’re not about to start complaining. You’d rather shoot this type of innocuous scenario than ridiculous, hentai-like scenes involving freakish get-ups and toys of monster proportions not realistically made to fit in a vagina.

The deal is perfect. Almost too perfect.

Subconsciously, you must realize something is wrong. Maybe Seokjin’s many lessons have finally rubbed off on you because there’s a persistent voice in your ear warning you that the film proposition is a trap, one that you’ve unfortunately walked straight into.

Your wariness increases when he refuses to send you the script upon request. Alarm bells ring off but by then it’s too late.

“The thing is... Director Ryu wants to try a new type of project," Seokjin says over the phone once you call him up for answers. "He thinks he’s going to pioneer a new genre of porn and revolutionize the industry - his words, not mine.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“How do I explain this without you getting the wrong idea..."

“Is this meant to reassure me?!” Dread drips from your tone. You should’ve suspected something was off from the very moment Seokjin suggested to shoot vanilla porn as your next big project. What a joke.

“Calm down, it's not as bad as - whatever you're thinking.” Too bad that his attempts to calm you down have the opposite effect. “He’s been wanting to try out a new improvisation format for his porn movies.”

“Come again?”

A beat of uncomfortable quiet passes. Reluctantly, Seokjin explains, “Which means - there isn’t an actual script to go off of. That’s why I couldn’t send it to you - because there is none. He wants it to be as realistic and natural as possible so he’s looking for actors who can go with their gut and create their own scenario instead of ones who need to be directed.”

Your resounding silence speaks for itself.

Sure, sometimes they provide scripts to act as guidelines, roughly giving the actor an idea of how the scene will unfold, but no one is expected to follow it word for word. Most porn films rely on improvisation rather than scripts because of how notoriously bad porn stars are at acting and memorizing more than a few lines at a time, and the introduction scene never lasts very long anyway for it to make a noticeable difference. Besides, after filming a handful of movies, you’ve noticed the dialogue is more or less all the same.

What bothers you is that this director wants you to carry out a movie that relies heavily on improvised dialogue. Convincingly.

“C’mon,” Seokjin tries when you refuse to deign him with an answer. “It’ll be fun. You like acting, right?”

“Seokjin...” You pinch the bridge of your nose and try to keep your composure in check. “How do I break this down for you? I think you’re forgetting the most crucial detail here - I can’t act! The closest I've ever gotten to acting is faking an orgasm and I’m pretty certain that doesn’t count."

“And you do that very well!" says Seokjin encouragingly. "You'll be fine. Don’t stress over it. Your scenes with Min Yoongi last time were perfectly acceptable!”

“That’s the thing.” Stress makes your voice raise a half-step. “He did, like, 90% of the acting! Back then, all I had to do was moan and act like a slut! Which hardly counts - I was being myself. Whatever this - thing - you’re attempting to rope me into - I’m not qualified for it.”

“Sweetheart, we’re not aiming for the fucking Oscars here.” When he laughs, it’s practiced enough to sound sincere. “At the end of the day, it’s still porn. Nobody’s expecting you to be the next Meryl. And besides,” he presses on, clearly refusing to change his mind. “This is exactly what you need right now. Something fresh, something new. If you pull this off, you’ll gain exposure.”

“If I pull it off. Big if."

“I know it sounds like a gamble. I get it, I do. But remember what I always say? High risk—”

“Yes, yes. High reward. I get it.” Your frown deepens. “There’s no way to know this will work, though.”

“A good co-star already guarantees you half of the success. And luckily for you, the guy they signed on seems like the real deal. He’s hot, you’re hot. People will pay money to see you two fuck regardless of how good or bad the acting is.”

“Well. That’s reassuring,” you say, voice as flat as a board. “Although I suppose watching porn on mute is always an option if it comes to that.”

“It was a joke!” What worries you is that it doesn’t sound like it is. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen some of your co-star’s tapes. He’s got a mouth on him, if you know what I mean. Just let him lead and it’ll go swimmingly.”

“It’s one thing to follow someone’s lead during sex but you want me to - to improvise for God knows how long! That’s just asking for a disaster to happen.”

“You said you were up for a challenge!” Seokjin throws your words back at you, his tone accusing.

“And you said this would be beneficial for my career! How is making a fool out of myself going to help me any? I don’t want to be remembered as the girl who can’t act to save her life.” You want to cry in frustration. If you had wanted to act you would’ve chosen that as your major in college. “I don’t - I can’t do this. I’m not - this isn’t what I signed up for! How do you expect me to convince viewers what they’re watching is real...”

“Just—” Exasperated, he takes a deep breath. Exhales. “Trust me. When have I ever been wrong about film projects.”

Is putting your career at risk really worth it? You’re not sure anymore.

On the bright side, it’ll finally get Seokjin off your back, you reason, trying to remain positive. That in itself is worth celebrating, right?

Fine. You’ll agree to it out of pettiness. Once Seokjin realizes what a terrible idea this entire ordeal is, you won’t hesitate to rub it back in his face. He’ll never hear the end of it.

"Who am I working with, anyway?”

"Ah, hm, well." Hesitation creeps up his voice for the first time, putting you instantly on edge. "...You won't know him. He's new to the scene - got started a month or two ago, I forget."

"Great. Not only am I being used as a lab rat for this director to experiment on but you're also pairing me with a fucking rookie. Jesus.”

"He’s not half bad! He’s not bad at all, actually. I wouldn't be insisting if I didn't trust him not to blow his load early."

"Aren’t I lucky,” you deadpan. “So I don't have to worry about him busting a nut before the director gives the signal?"

“All you’ll have to do is act like a married couple with baby fever,” he talks over you, ignoring your overflowing sarcasm. “And how hard can that be? You’ve been loved up with Jumin for a month now - that’s plenty enough practice if you ask me. I know you’ll be able to sell that romantic shit to the public without too much trouble.”

“It’s Jimin,” you correct from force of habit.

You’re promptly ignored — not that you expected anything less from him.

"Just give it a thought? And get back to me when you make up your mind. The sooner the better. The offer won't stay on the table forever." Even over the line, you can picture Seokjin raising his eyebrows at you, expectant. “If you’re serious about this job, you know what you have to do.”

You both know that you’ll accept the offer. Seokjin’s got you all figured out. As much as you don’t like being pushed around, the need to prove yourself is your main driving factor. The acquaintances who sneer at you, the family members who’ve shun you, the peers who expect you to burn out after the five month mark—you’d rather roll over and die than prove their misconceptions right.

It’s a matter of pride when you sniff and reply, “I’ll think about it.”

But the decision is already made before the call ends.

.

.

SCENE 02 - THE SPERMINATOR. TAKE 02. ROLL B. 

.

Eight days later you find yourself squeezed into a brazenly short dress that zips in the front, more fit for a night out in a club than a dinner at home. It’s so ridiculously tight, you feel like a prey being swallowed down by a snake. There’s no room to breathe. You can’t wait for the scene to start, if only so you can dispose of the piece of fabric and never wear it again.

Unfortunately, your outfit gets worse because thrown over the clubbing attire is a frilly apron with small hearts embroidered along the hem. The mismatch is jarring. You’re not sure what look the stylist is going for but the end result is very...peculiar.

You comfort yourself with the knowledge that it could always be worse.

A quick glance at the digital clock on your phone confirms that you’re running on time. Good. After your last gig, the last thing you want is to spend hours waiting for the personnel to set up the cameras and sound equipment correctly.

Thankfully, today’s team works like a well-oiled machine. All that’s left are the last-minute preparations before the shoot begins.

Your false eyelashes are still drying when Seokjin elbows you sharply in the ribs. You crack open an eye to glare at him. “Ouch - ah, seriously? What is it now?”

“That’s him, that’s him!” Seokjin whispers under his breath, his gaze glued to a point somewhere beyond your shoulder. “Wooow. Aren’t you a lucky bitch? I’d gargle his nutté sauce for breakfast, if you get what I mean. He looks way better in person, damn.”

“Firstly - please never say that out loud again.” You fake a gag. “How do I buy myself a new set of ears?”

Seokjin ignores your dramatics. He shoots you a look. “You let that last guy draw a starfish on your face with his crème de la nut but did you hear me go sick?”

“That’s not the same and you know it!” Your jaw drops in indignation. “And can you stop trying to make nut cream a thing for the love of—”

“What’s this about nut cream?”

You whip your head around, mortification already etched onto your features. Your mouth opens, defense at the ready, only for your throat to clamp up.

“Oh.” You blink up in surprise because - well, Seokjin’s earlier assessment isn’t embellished. The guy is fit as fuck.

You’d seen photos in passing, had even googled his name out of curiosity, but the two-dimensional version of him pales to his real life physique. There’s a sharpness to his features that the camera fails to pick up on, a vibrancy that gets lost in the medium. 

“Hey. I’m Hoseok.” His grip is firm, assertive, and your eyes naturally wander over his form. The loose muscle tee he’s thrown on puts his toned arms on display and makes it easier to admire the seemingly endless expanse of sun-kissed skin. He’s neither too thick nor too spindly, his muscles lean and firm instead of bulging. Strong but not intimidating. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” You swallow, mouth dry.

You expect him to leave it at that like most of your past co-stars usually do. Or worse - for him to abandon all pretenses and cross lines that aren’t meant to be crossed. As someone who has experienced it all - from standoffish to creepy and vile - nothing surprises you anymore.

But unlike your, admittedly low, expectations, his gaze is warm and friendly. He speaks smoothly, leaving no time for an awkward silence to instill itself.

“Yeah, I know who you are! I saw a video or two of yours before - you were featured on the agency’s main page last month, right? Fuckin’ genius, by the way. Best stuff I’ve seen in a long ass time.” An easy grin sits on his face, nothing about it fake or contrived. “I hope we get along today. I haven’t done much work myself - yet anyway - but I hope this can be a good experience for the both of us.”

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seokjin assures, patting your shoulder like a proud parent. “_____ here is the best talent I’ve signed on.”

“That I can believe,” Hoseok chimes, his smile never waning. “I’ve heard good stuff about you. I won’t lie - it reassured me a fuck ton when I heard I’d be working with you. The stuff we’re doing is, well, it’s a bit of a gamble at this point, but I’m sure it’ll go well because I’ll be working with you.”

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you’re robbed of words, unable to respond to his flattery. From experience, you know to be wary of guys like him. Whenever someone lays it on thick they always have an ulterior motive. But what could possibly be his?

“Seokjin’s saying that because I’m the only one who can stand his nagging,” you finally say, your shoulders stiff. Maybe it’s because you’ve just met, but it’s hard to figure him out and it doesn’t help that you’re naturally wary of strangers.

“Oh hush. You love me.” Sensing how guarded you’ve become, Seokjin mercifully offers you an out. “It was nice meeting you, Hoseok. Wish we could stay and chat but she has to get ready to film the pre-interview portion.”

“Oh yeah, that’s cool. Catch you later.”

You offer a quick smile he returns tenfold, its brightness momentarily dazzling you.

Slightly dazed from the intensity of it, you stagger behind Seokjin, sun spots dotting your vision. Your surroundings blur together as your mind tries to recover from the interaction.

“Sooooooooo?” Seokjin sing-songs once you’ve walked far enough to be out of earshot. His brows are raised knowingly, an infuriating type of smugness clinging to his features. “What did I tell you! He’s hot enough to single-highhandedly melt a glacier, huh?”

You scoff, not willing to admit anything. “He’s okay.”

“Oh c’mon. He’s baby daddy material for sure. Which works out well for you since he’s gonna pump one into you later.”

For once the grimace that crosses your face isn’t exaggerated. “Please. Stop. Talking. I’m this close to heaving out my lunch.”

You’re not even joking with that one. Attractive as Hoseok may be, any talk of baby-making is enough to dissipate any smidgens of lust.

The reminder of what the upcoming scene entails and the expectations people carry crash down on you like a pile of bricks. Although you’ve done your best to ignore the fact you’ll be acting today, the meeting with Hoseok yanks you harshly back to reality.

You’re going to act. As a married couple. Trying to conceive a baby.

Three things that have never, ever been on your bucket list are now about to be crossed out in the span of the same afternoon. To that you can only say - what the fuck is my life.

Like a mounting wave before the inevitable crash, panic crests within you. You feel it gradually build and build, flooding your lungs and every crevice of your body with overwhelming anxiety.

Seokjin sighs. “How are you going to make it through today? The whole point of the sex scene is to get you pregnant. Or fake pregnant. You know what I mean.”

“Um...” You try to laugh but it comes out shaky. Seokjin shoots you a concerned look. “I’ll be fine! Really! I can do it. It’s just acting like you said, right? It’s not like he’s actually gonna knock me up in real life. So. Totally fine. It’s fine. Perfect.”

Seokjin’s concern grows. His eyebrows pinch together and his expression turns serious. He asks with no trace of mockery, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay!” you reply. It’s too rushed of an answer to convince him. Your palms feel clammy and you wipe them off your damned apron. “Just. Nervous. Y’know.”

His steps slow to a halt and he places a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder. The weight, familiar and comforting, grounds you to reality. “Hey. What’s there to be nervous about? You got this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll trick yourself into believing it. “I’ve got this.”

“Look. Let me be honest for a second. I’ve been an agent for eight years now and I’ve seen a lot of talents come and go. No pun intended.” You smile back at him weakly. “You’ve got something...extra a lot of them lacked. I knew the moment I saw you on film you’d go far. The energy you bring onscreen is insane. I know today might seem new and strange - but so was your first ever professionally shot film, right? And you got through that fine. You’ll do great. I know it. And, not to toot my own horn, but I’m always right.”

That earns him a laugh. The nerves are still there but thanks to his pep talk it’s easier to breathe.

Despite being a big pain in the ass, Seokjin is exemplary at his job. Without him, you’re acutely aware you wouldn’t have gotten half as far as you have. Having him by your side is a reassurance in itself.

Someone calls your name, pulling you from your thoughts. When you turn around, you’re face to face with the round, bespectacled face of Director Ryu. You reckon he’s in his early forties but he acts younger than his age. It’s your first time working with him but so far he’s been nice enough, if a little full of himself. Not that you’re unaccustomed with working alongside conceited colleagues.

“Oh good, you’re back. You can get seated for the interview bit.” He points over to a chair placed in front of a pale yellow wall. From close up, you can see a paint job is in order, the old coat chipping off in several places. “Alright, this won’t last long - just need you to answer some questions on tape and we’ll be good to go.”

“Sure thing.” You nod and follow his directions, sitting still while the hair and make-up artist steps up to give your lips a final touch-up.

Strictly speaking, the before and after interviews aren’t a necessity. In your experience, directors mostly film the short question-and-answer sequence when you’re set to film hardcore sex scenes as a way to show viewers everything is consensual and that you thoroughly enjoyed the experience despite whatever might have transpired on screen.

You reckon the director wants to film you today to document the process behind his “groundbreaking film project”. Cue roll of eyes.

Somebody needs to tell him he isn’t inventing anything, you think while watching him fiddle with the camera until he’s completely satisfied with the angle. All he’s done so far is add unnecessary pressure on you. You hope Hoseok is faring better because the amount of performance anxiety you’re experiencing is an instant boner killer.

“You nervous?” the director asks once he’s done adjusting the camera lens.

While by some standards you’re still considered a newbie in the industry, you’ve done this enough times to fall into a routine. Wake-up, breakfast, get ready, arrive before call time, fill out all the paperwork and get ready to shoot your solo stills. It’s familiar enough that you’ve long stopped getting pre-performance jitters.

Today’s rush of anxiety is as surprising as it is unwelcome. They don’t want to hear that particular truth though, so you keep your reply sweet and bubbly.

“Nah,” you grin, wide and easy. “I’m super excited to film today!”

“Oh yeah? Is it perhaps because of your co-star?”

Your smile freezes for a second. Somewhere over the director’s shoulder you can see Seokjin nodding enthusiastically while giving you the double thumbs up. “Hoseok? He’s hot, sure.”

“Ooh. Already on a first name basis?”

“Hm?” you let out a noise of polite confusion, only belatedly realizing that his viewers know him better as his porn alias, J-Hope. But there’s no way in hell you’re going to yell that out loud while he’s fucking an orgasm out of you. Not only does it sound ridiculous but it’ll shatter whatever carefully crafted illusion you manage to build. “Um, yes. We’re getting to know each other. He’s very friendly.”

“I’m sure he is.” And there’s an implication there that doesn’t sit too well with you but thankfully Director Ryu chooses to move on and put that particular subject to rest.

“You ever shoot an insemination scene before?”

“Not yet.” You make sure to keep the smile on your face even if your cheeks are beginning to hurt. “I can’t wait to get to it. It’s a fantasy I’ve always had but never tried out for myself. I’m excited to film a first on camera!”

The director has yet to call you out for your bullshit so you slowly start to relax. Acting is a bit like lying, isn’t it? Maybe you can get through today after all.

You breeze through the rest of the questions, forcing out practiced laughs here and there all whilst keeping your voice syrupy sweet. It’s quick work, especially when you know what to expect. Before you know it, it’s already time to film the pièce de résistance. Everyone that’s allowed on set during filming filters into the kitchen, conversations between crew members dying down as they use their last recreational moments to check their phones.

The director’s filming style exempts you from shooting the customary pre-shoot sex stills which are essentially promotional pictures of you and and your partner in every sex position that you’ll be filming for real later on. You’re thankful for that, at least. Even with all of your on-camera experience, staying perfectly silent and still with someone’s dick inside you is no easy feat. It’s worse when you have to keep eye contact with your co-star and fake sexual gratification because the shot calls for it.

Hoseok waves at you from the other side of the room, the hair and makeup artist dusting some powder across the slope of his nose.

How can he look so relaxed?! You’re barely holding your lunch down. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re able to now tat the butterflies are back in full force, making a mess of your stomach.

You feel queasy but try not to make it too obvious even as Seokjin comes around to check up on you. The last thing you want to do is make a scene, especially when your onscreen counterpart's demeanor is making you look amateurish in comparison.

Maybe Hoseok is a better actor than you’re able to give most porn stars credit for because try as you might, you fail to detect any nervous undercurrent in his tone. For someone who is supposedly starring in his first major project, he doesn’t seem all too bothered about how it might play out.

How does he do it?! In all honesty, if Seokjin hadn’t informed you of his rookie status, you would be none the wiser.

There’s an ease with which he carries himself, a fluidity in his movements that belies no anxiety or awkwardness. Even from this distance you can tell that there’s never a hint of hesitation in his movements or speech; he doesn’t seem self-conscious in the least. He talks and moves with the assurance of someone who has been in the industry for months, not weeks.

In that moment you envy him. You’re so nervous about the upcoming scene that it’s hard to feign an air of professional detachment.

His boisterous laugh is loud enough to carry across the room and interrupt your line of thought. When you look over at him again, you find him folded in half, hands clutching his sides, and wearing a grin so bright it eclipses the entirety of his face.

“He seems nice.”

You jump, startled by Jimin’s sudden appearance. You hadn’t even heard him draw near. With a sheepish expression, you turn to look up at him only to find him already staring off into the distance. There’s a strange look painting his face, and a small crease in his brow that usually isn’t present. When you follow his line of sight, you’re met with the image of Hoseok talking animatedly to the the small crowd that’s flocked around him.

“Yeah.” You aren’t sure what else to say. Although there’s no sarcasm attached to his words, you can’t help but find Jimin unnaturally tense.

Which makes sense, you concede guiltily. A mere stranger is minutes away from dicking down his girlfriend. You’re not sure how you’d feel if you were to stand in his shoes.

You breathe in deep, silently willing away the knot of distress in your belly. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. It’s just a job. A profession that Jimin has always been fully aware of, even before you’d begun dating.

Even as you remind yourself of the facts, it does little to dispel the lingering feelings of doubt and guilt.

“Hey.” Jimin frowns at you in concern. “You alright?”

“Yep!” you say then immediately sigh, knowing that lying to your boyfriend is pointless. “I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Nervous?” Jimin’s worry grows, the crease in his brow deepening. “What about?”

“Just—” You gesture around with your hands. “All of this.”

“Oh.” He looks genuinely surprised. “But you don’t usually get nervous... Is it the impregnation thing you’ll have to do? I know you’ve said you’re not a big fan of that. Or... Is it something else?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. It’s a bit of everything yet at the same time nothing you can clearly pinpoint and put a finger on. In all logic, you know that you’re feeling disproportionately stressed out but you can’t stop yourself from feeling how you feel. “It’s not that I don’t want to film. I just - I’m worried I won’t do well.”

Jimin takes your hand between his, running a thumb in soothing circles across the surface of your skin. He repeats the motion several times until your heartbeat is completely synced to his touch.

“You’ll do great. You always do.” The lines of his mouth bend into a smile. “I’ll be on the sidelines cheering you on.”

“My very own cheerleader.” You allow yourself to relax and and smile back fondly.

As much as you worry about Jimin being upset with you filming sex scenes with other actors, he’s never been anything less than the supporting boyfriend you’ve always dreamed of. Seokjin calls Jimin’s constant presence on set maddening, but you’re thankful that your boyfriend sticks by your side while others might flee or shame you.

Suddenly, you’re overcome with emotion. Maybe it’s the stress, or maybe today you’re more hormonal than usual, but your eyes threaten to well up as you grip his palm tightly in your own. “Jimin, I—”

“Okay, lovebirds!” Seokjin claps his hands once, effectively ruining your moment. “Hand-holding time is over. We’re moving onto the more R-rated stuff.”

“Seokjin!” you hiss, upset over his horrible timing.

“It’s fine.” Jimin shakes his head. “He’s right, shoot’s about to start anytime soon. I need to get ready, too.”

“Right.”

Reluctantly, you let go of Jimin’s hand.

“Don’t pout.” He laughs and presses a quick, chaste kiss to your mouth. “I’ll wait for you after filming and we can go grab dinner. Italian sound fine?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You bob your head eagerly. “I’m literally dying for carbs. Italian sounds more than perfect.”

“Good.” 

You can’t resist sneaking in one last peck before Jimin retreats behind the cameras and you’re pulled to stand in front of a granite kitchen tabletop. Director Ryu is waiting for you, Hoseok already by his side.

From close-up, your co-star looks even more striking. The make-up artist’s work highlights his features without going overboard. The lines of his face are sharp, like every single one has been meticulously drawn. What usually would give someone a hostile and unapproachable impression is balanced out by the liveliness that lights up his eyes and his wide smile that looks almost too big for his face.

“It’ll start in the kitchen and then we’ll work out way to the bedroom.” Director Ryu points down the hallway. “I was thinking of keeping it all in the bedroom but nothing screams domesticity more than kitchen scenes, right?”

“Uh-huh.” You give a polite nod. Next to you, Hoseok coughs into his fist.

“Depending on how this goes we might have to take several takes - just keep that in mind.”

That’s nothing out of the ordinary. Sex scenes are never filmed in one take. There’s always one thing or another - a smoke break, a flaccid dick, a lighting fixture that needs to be changed. A 45 minute porn movie is the result of the editing team that painstakingly goes through, cuts and assembles hours of footage.

“Remember,” Director Ryu instructs, one hand cocked on his hips. “You’re still stuck in that honeymoon phase. All the two of you want to do is fuck like horny bunnies but your husband’s been away all day. Both of you have been waiting for this reunion for hours and hours. I want to feel that level of tension, got it?”

Hoseok nods like a dutiful student, his expression comically serious. You’d laugh if it wasn’t so inappropriate.

“Yep. Ok. Got it.”

You just want the director to stop talking so that you can get this over with quickly. The monologue is just delaying the inevitable.

Director Ryu spends extra minutes setting up the scene, emphasizing how in love and passionate the two of you should behave, describing how long you’ve been wanting to try for a baby, going into explicit detail about what the sex scenes should convey to the viewers. He just goes on and on and on with no end it sight.

At this point even Hoseok is growing restless. His feet refuse to stay still and his eyes dart around the room as if his attention is drawn elsewhere. It’s Hoseok’s constant fidgeting that draws Director Ryu out of his monologue. He finally senses that there’s a unanimous decision to start filming and retires behind the camera to settle himself in his appointed chair.

Hoseok shares a long look with you. “Is he always like that?”

“God, I hope not.” You lower your voice to whisper, “Seokjin - my agent - he says apparently Director Ryu wanted to make a career off of documentaries once he graduated from film school but quickly switched genres once he saw how little filming the mating habits of koalas was earning him.”

“Ah,” Hoseok nods conspiratorially before his features shift into something more serious. “Hey. Before we start, is there anything you’re not comfortable with? I know this scene is supposed to lean towards vanilla but you never know... I’d rather make sure. Just in case.”

You blink, taken aback. Hard limits aren’t really discussed outside of hardcore scenes. Sure, everyone is given a safeword before shoots begin but even screaming out “STOP!” or “Can we take a break from filming?” is enough to put the filmed scene on hold.

“Ah... No. I’m okay. But thanks for asking.” A moment passes and you add, “Is there - are there any words or kinks that bother you?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “Not for this one. Just - if there’s anything you’d rather me not say or do, don’t hesitate.”

You nod in reply, not sure of what else to say. Unfortunately your past experiences with men have made you suspicious of any form of flattery or kindness.

Soon, though, you relax. What reason is there for Hoseok to deceive you? Maybe he still has that rookie mindset. You can relate to the eagerness and the desire to do well you’d had in your early days of filming.

“Alright. Good luck, Hoseok.”

His smile is so bright that it erases your previous doubts. Surely someone with ill-intentions wouldn’t be able to smile like that, right? You return a tentative smile of your own. Something akin to understanding seems to pass between you. Although you don’t know Hoseok and he doesn’t know you, you trust him enough for this scene.

The moment is broken when Director Ryu directs Hoseok to wait outside the camera’s line of vision and you’re left alone in front of the kitchen stove.

Any moment now, you think. A telltale silence falls over the staff members as they all anticipate the director’s signal for the scene to start.

The first few seconds are always tricky. You’re no actress. There’s no switch inside of you that flips on and off as soon as the director commands “ACTION!” and “CUT!”. The world around you doesn’t fade out, your ‘porn star persona’ doesn’t claw its way out from within you and lunge for the nearest available dick. Sometimes, if you’re not attracted to your onscreen partner, you find your mind drifting off, making an inventory of your fridge and wondering what you’ll be able to cook up for dinner with two eggs and leftover rice.

When Director Ryu shouts “ACTION!” and slams down the plate, you freeze up. Usually you have an idea of what to say or do, but the words and actions won’t come to you this time.

Someone behind the cameras lets out a light cough. Oh right, you blink down at the simmering pot of water in front of you. The cameras are recording you making an utter fool out of yourself.

The spike of humiliation forces you into action. You’re more professional than this, damn it. You give the water a tentative stir, movements wooden and stiff. It’s hard to concentrate. All you can do is watch as the water simmers to a boil, the sound of bubbling water like a roaring current in your ears.

A door creaks open, signalling your onscreen husband’s return home.

To your horror, you find that you’re unable to move, as if your limbs had forgotten their primary function.

Before the scene had started, you had envisioned yourself throwing yourself into the arms of your loving husband and welcoming him home with a shower of kisses and words of affection. You had internally rehearsed it, had even thought of what you could say to him between pecks, but the reality is far removed from what you had practiced.

“Darling?” Hoseok’s voice is soft but loud enough for you to hear him over the angry sounds of boiling water. The vowels he uses are rounded, different from the bright pep in his tone from earlier. 

You want to respond but your tongue feels like lead, too heavy in your mouth to articulate and form the proper reply. What are you supposed to call him, anyway? Honey? Hoseok? A nickname derived from his name? What do newlywed spouses call each other? Why couldn’t you give this more thought before the cameras began rolling?

Panic balloons inside you, threatening to burst. For a terrifying and mortifying second, you think that you’ve gone and ruined everything. The muscles in your shoulders bunch up and you half-expect the director to shout ‘CUT!’, give you a public scolding for missing your cue and berate you for your overall ineptitude.

Hoseok’s arms wrap around your middle before you have time to agonize any further. Just as you suspected, his arms are strong, the lean muscles flexing as he readjusts his hold around your waist. What you don’t expect, however, is the unadulterated warmth he radiates. His body burns hot; even through the layers of clothing separating the two of you, his warmth seeps through. But it’s strangely comfortable, not unlike basking in the afternoon sun during the last days of summer. You let yourself melt into his embrace.

“You’re not even going to say hi?”

With your back turned to him, you can’t be sure, but you imagine the pout playing at his lips. He tucks his chin in the crook of your shoulder. If he feels any awkwardness, he doesn’t let it show.

Miraculously, your mouth seems to be in working order again. It takes you a few seconds too long to find the appropriate answer, but it finally comes before the director can cut in to make any remarks.

“If I turn around right now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you,” you explain. “And - I don’t want to ruin our dinner.”

Just to keep up the pretense, you add a handful of spaghetti into the pot of water.

Hoseok lets out a hum from behind you. He’s standing close enough for you to feel the vibrations low in his throat.

“I hate it,” he says after a stretch of silence.

You pout. “What? My cooking? What’s wrong with it?”

“No, silly. I hate -” he sighs, buries his face in your neck before looking back up so the camera can capture his expression. “I hate not being with you. I missed this.”

He hugs you from behind before kissing your neck. It starts off innocuous - his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the column of your throat. Quickly, however, his mouth lingers on your skin.

“Ah - don’t. I’m cooking!” you shriek when his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot under your jaw. Your protests are half-hearted and go by unacknowledged. The pot of pasta could overflow right now and no one would care, least of all you.

Hoseok noses your neck while he tightening his grip around your waist, the movement bringing his hips flush against your lower back. You give the pot in front of you a very unenthusiastic stir, attention focused instead on the way his lips tenderly skim the surface of your skin, testing and teasing. The sensation feels nice - and keeps your mind off of the several cameras directed your way.

“But I went all day missing my princess,” he sighs, open mouthed against your neck. “Spent all day thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?”

“Mhm.” He gives your exposed shoulder a peck. Then another. “Thought about your cute little laugh.”

His line catches you off guard. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Porn is often crude and to the point. You’re used to men complimenting your body parts or praising your skills in bed. You’d never minded, either. But Hoseok’s choice of words make you eager in a different way.

“What else?”

“Well, your cooking, for sure. Without you I’d be eating out of ramyeon packets for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

You let out a snort.

“That’s true. Your cooking is so horrible it’s offensive.”

“Hey now. Don’t be mean.” He pokes your cheek before pinching your chin to turn your head towards him. “I can cook a decent omelet.”

Hoseok’s a good few inches taller than you so you have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes. The slight discomfort barely registers. You’re too transfixed by the way he stares at you. It’s hard to place the expression because you’ve never seen it on a fellow actor before. Normally, the men you work with stare you down with hungry and lustful intent, but there’s none of that in Hoseok’s gaze.

The expression on his face cannot be described as innocent, either. He licks his lips, drawing your attention to the pretty lines of his mouth delicately curved into a smile.

“I missed the way you feel in my arms.” His voice sounds deeper, this time. “I missed holding you close to me. Kissing you. Reminding you how much I love you. I missed the look in your eyes when - “

“When?”

He smirks. “You sure you want to hear it? What if you can’t keep your hands off of me after? I don’t want to be held responsible for soggy pasta.”

“Hoseok,” you whine, one of your hands reaching down to slap at the hold around your stomach. 

He tightens his hold around you and your breath hitches, suddenly all too aware of how firm his body feels behind you. The smirk on his face widens as he leans forward to confess his next words.

“I was thinking about how I miss the look on your face whenever I make your pussy sloppy with my cum.”

“Hoseok!”

One moment he’s crooning sweet words of affection, the next he’s spitting out filth. The quick back-and-forth gives you whiplash but you can’t say you dislike it. Unlike the tired and overused clichéd porn scenarios you’ve filmed in the past, Hoseok’s unpredictable behavior has the advantage of keeping you on your toes.

“You missed it too, hm?” He kisses your neck, lips soft and warm. “Kept thinking about how pretty you sound. So, so pretty. Especially when I give you what you want.”

“How would you know what I want?” You turn your head forwards so you can pretend to check up on the cooking pasta. “You were away all day.”

Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously.

“How would I know?” he parrots back, his tone sweet and mocking. Something about it sends tingles down your spine and has you standing up straighter. “I always know what my pretty wife wants. I know because your body can’t lie to me.”

His hands wander, one of them inching up the material of your frilly apron to reach between your breasts. The movement is slow enough for a camera to zoom in and follow its trail. Hoseok rests his hand on your left breast and gives it a squeeze.

“See?” He repeats the action. “Your heart’s racing like crazy.”

You swallow audibly, finding it hard to come up with a witty riposte.

He continues with a chuckle, “You can’t deny it, can you? Your body’s too honest for your own good. It’s okay. You don’t have to say you missed me. I know.”

His self-assured way of talking makes it easier for you to react. This - the cockiness, the playfulness - you’re familiar with.

You roll your eyes and continue to give the pot in front of you a few additional stirs only for your breath to hitch when he starts to grind his hips against your lower back in time with your stirs.

Fuck is your only coherent thought. He rolls his hips so well it’s impossible not to imagine them doing something else. Your bottom lip grows numb from how hard you bite it.

“Of course I missed you.” You keep your tone as light as possible, determined not to show that his words and actions affect you.

Hoseok’s eyes narrow. He removes his hands from around you but keeps his front pressed against your back. He smiles again, dimples poking through.

“You don’t sound convinced... That’s fine.” It sounds like the beginning of a challenge and you soon learn why.

His nimble fingers play with the knot of your apron and you tense, expecting him to make quick work of your clothes and dive straight into dessert, so to speak. Once again, he surprises you by leaving the apron alone, hands falling to his sides.

His knees hit the floor, the noise startling you. Before you have the chance to truly react, he’s quick to pull your hips backwards until your back is arched. The sudden change in position forces you to adjust your stance so as to keep your balance.

“Hoseok?” you start to question but he cuts you off with a tut and light smack to your ass.

“You just keep your eye on dinner like you were doing before.” His fingers play with the hem of your short dress, stretching the fabric until it bunches up around your hips and leaves your lacy thong on display. “You can do that, right?”

Flustered by the position he’s maneuvered you into, with your hips thrust back obscenely, legs splayed wide and pussy on show, you grip the wooden spoon in your hand with more force than necessary. “It’s just pasta. I can manage.”

Maybe you sound less indifferent than intended because Hoseok seems more amused than offended by your feinted nonchalance. He barks out a laugh, his hands spreading the meat of your cheeks aside to get a better view of your lace-covered bits.

Privately, you wish you could witness his reaction. If there’s anything that turns you on, it’s knowing how much someone else wants you. If feels good to know that you’re wanted and desired. Even if fucking is part of your job description, the act needs to be mutually enjoyable for you to be completely satisfied.

“Sure.” The lilt in his voice is so sweet that it borders on condescending. “While you do that, I think I’ll have my appetizer.”

It’s corny, overused and a little degrading - exactly the type of one-liner you’d ordinarily find in porn - but he gives you no time to call him out for it. As soon as he’s done talking, he wags his tongue out and drags it across the red lace, and the repeated up and down motions quickly dampen your panties.

You notice with great frustration that he takes care to avoid your clit, focusing instead on licking broad stripes over slit and, to your surprise, around your rim.  He doesn’t stop until your underwear drips with the accumulation of your essence and his saliva. The soaked lace rubs against you, the rough texture adding pressure to your most sensitive zones, until you can’t tell if the extra sensation is a blessing or a curse. Your hips jerk forward every so often, unsure if you’d rather lean into or escape his torturous games. Because as amazing as Hoseok’s tongue feels, you know your body well enough to be able to tell that this particular tempo won’t bring you to your peak.

An appetizer, he had called it. That’s exactly what the teasing ministrations feel like - a small sampling before the main course. It’s satisfying and maddening in its own way. Good, but not enough to satisfy your ravenous appetite.

He unearths himself from your dripping core, chin shiny with your juices.

“Keep focus,” he instructs as he slots two fingers inside of you. You’re wet enough that they slide in without too much difficulty, the stretch making your stomach clench. “I thought you said you knew how to cook pasta.”

Against your will, you force yourself to focus on the bubbling water in front of you. As much as you want to push your hips back and ride his fingers until you’re pushed over the edge, you can’t take the humiliation of messing up pasta - even if it is for the sake of a porn scenario.

It’s fucking pasta! You have to be seriously inept to mess up such a simple dish...

But what should have been an effortless task becomes more challenging than expected. Hoseok refuses to go easy on you. If anything, your stubborn silence is all the motivation he needs to thrust his fingers inside of you harder, curving them at an angle that makes your knees wobble. You struggle to keep any incriminating noises at bay but despite your best efforts, several muffled moans slip out one after the other.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the logical side of you points out how dangerous all of this is. What if, during your impending orgasm, your body seizes up and knocks the boiling water everywhere during the process? You quickly switch off the gas stove at the thought. Better be safe than sorry.

Just then, Hoseok adds his tongue to the mix, his fingers relentless in their pursuit of your pleasure. You bite back a curse as the wooden spoon slips from your hold and clatters to the floor.

“Ah fu - Oh God,” you stutter, hands holding on to the edge of the counter for dear life.

You’ve been eaten out God knows how many times in your life, but not many have instinctively known what really gets you going. Hoseok laps at your core, tongue collecting the moisture that seeps through the fabric of your ruined panties, while his fingers scissor you open for his cock.

Your stomach clenches as you imagine how well he’d fill you up. Who the hell would ever want pasta for dinner when Hoseok could feed you his cock instead? Definitely not you, that’s for sure.

It’s easy to picture it. All he’d need to do is stand up, unzip his pants and spear you open with a practiced roll of his hips. Maybe he’d make you toss a salad while he fucks you from behind, slapping your ass whenever you forget to keep stirring the ingredients together. Or perhaps he’d let you ride his dick on the kitchen floor, too impatient to make it to a more comfortable surface.

Your imagination knows no bounds. Once you start, you can’t stop thinking of more lascivious scenarios, each one more daring and debauched than the last. The heat between your legs becomes unbearable and still, you ache for more.

Hoseok pulls away from the apex of your thighs and snorts, the sound pulling you out of your depraved thoughts. The pace of his thrusting slows down without stopping completely, his fingers still pressed deep within you. Your arms tremble as they try to keep you upright, knuckles white from the strength of your grip around the counter’s edge. You exhale shakily.

A whine works its way into your voice. “Why - why’d you stop?”

Ignoring your protests, he pops his fingers out of you and indulges in one last lick of your swollen pussy, before gathering to his feet. He rolls down your dress back over your bum and peers over your shoulder, acting as nothing had ever happened.

“Thought you said you’d take care of dinner, hm?” Hoseok has the gall to hum in disappointment.

Your mouth opens in outrage. “You!”

Hoseok pouts. “I thought we said you wouldn’t blame me for any soggy pasta.”

“You’re impossible,” you say without any real heat to your words.

“But you love me that way.”

He smiles as he leans in to kiss you, lips sticky and warm. You follow the pace he sets as best you can, unaccustomed to the way he takes his time - like you’re a delicacy that demands to be savored and not gulped down. On-screen kisses are usually rushed, messy, with too much tongue. They’re a scripted affair, more for show than out of real affection. When men tuck back your hair behind your ear or palm your cheek, it’s only to better angle your face for the camera.

There is something intimate about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you. Inwardly, you can't help but admire his acting skills. There’s something tender about the way he handles you that’s distinctly different from any of your previous onscreen partners. Sure, you’ve shot vanilla sex scenes before, but never of this variety. None of the male actors’ performances have made you wish, even fleetingly, foolishly, that the scene was real.

Hoseok pulls up for air before your mind can wander off completely, his panting mouth a hairsbreadth away. Lips touching but not quite.

Blearily, you blink your eyes open. You’re close enough that your noses brush against one another, your breaths mingling together. Hoseok’s eyes remain closed throughout, like he doesn’t want the moment to end. He looks so content that you can’t bring yourself to do anything else but melt further into his embrace, gaze drinking in the minute details of his face - like the tiny moles dotting his cheekbone and upper lip and the pretty curve of his eyes.

“And cut!”

You both jump away from each other, startled. For a second there, the storyline you’d been instructed to follow had slipped from your mind. You’re unsure if the lapse in judgement is good or bad but you don’t let the question linger in your thoughts. You’ll have plenty of time to dissect your performance at a later time.

“Good, good. That wasn’t what I was expecting but I don’t think anyone has any objections?” Director Ryu claps his hands. “Fifteen minute break sound good everyone? Then we’ll relocate to the bedroom to shoot the next part.”

There’s a general hum of agreement from the crew members. Chairs and various other equipment scrape the floor as the personnel prepare to migrate to the other room for filming. Jimin’s gaze meets yours briefly but all he can do is smile weakly in your direction before he’s ordered to help push some of the equipment down the hall.

Someone comes up to you with a bottle of water while another steps closer to blot the beads of sweat near your hairline and reapply a layer of lipstick. The make-up artist knits her brows in concentration until she’s satisfied with the touch-ups. She then moves on to Hoseok, make-up palette and brush at the ready, and grumbles loudly about the sticky residue covering his face. You hear Hoseok bellow a laugh, the sound so infectious that even the make-up artist joins in. 

You sip your water through a straw, careful not to smudge your freshly applied lipstick, and check your phone for any missed messages.

“Was all of that okay?”

“Hm?” You look up and are surprised to see Hoseok stare at you expectantly. “I, uh, know some girls aren’t into ass play. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before jumping the gun but I figured - since you said there wasn’t anything major you were adverse to filming...”

His voice trails off.

“I liked it.” The admission is an easy one. “It did take me by surprise, but - I don’t have any complaints.”

“Ah, really?” Hoseok’s mouth corners upturn in relief. “That’s good to know. I was thinking - for the next scene - what if - I mean, are you okay with calling me Daddy?”

You tilt your head as you mull over the proposition.

“Daddy?”

“It’s not - you don’t have to. But listening to Director Ryu go on earlier made me think of something we could do. I think it fits well with the general idea. What do you think?”

“I’m fine with it.” Using the title doesn’t make you squeamish so you shrug in compliance. It’s not the first you’ve had to incorporate a daddy kink into the scene and it likely won’t be the last. You don’t see why you wouldn’t or shouldn’t do it with Hoseok. “I’ll follow your lead like I’ve been doing.”

It’s only as you’re following him towards the bedroom that you recall that you’ve yet to get to the crux of the scene - the damned impregnation kink. Even though you’re considerably less nervous than you’d been an hour or two ago, the thought of begging someone you barely know for something so intimate makes your stomach flip-flop. You don’t even have unprotected sex with Jimin and he’s your boyfriend.

Speaking of Jimin, you try to sneak in a peck or two before filming but Director Ryu intercepts you before you can make a beeline to where Jimin’s stationed behind a camera.

“How are you feeling?” The overhead light reflects off his round glasses and makes it impossible to hold eye contact unless you want to become semi-permanently blind.

“Good---”

“Wonderful. Well, we’ve positioned cameras here, here, and over there. There’ll be another camera man who’ll film with a handheld camera for closeups. Just keep that in mind. I know we’re giving you free-range to do what you feel is best and most natural but I’d hate to ask you to re-shoot because the camera couldn’t capture the both of you properly.”

You nod and he continues, “Also - please remember that you’re acting as a horny young married couple. I remember at that age I was up for anything, you get what I’m saying? People think just because you put a ring on your finger the sex automatically becomes stale. Fuck that. Show people married couples are freaks in the sheet.”

“Uh... Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He claps a hand over your shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

Freaks in the sheet? What did he expect you to do? Try out all the sex positions in the Kama Sutra?

“What did he want now?” Hoseok leans over to whisper once you’re seated comfortably on the bed. You’re hoping the mics don’t pick up the conversation but would rather not take the risk of being overheard bad-mouthing the director.

Shrugging, you say, “Just that this scene should be spicier.”

Hoseok raises his brow, lips quirking into a smirk. “That so?”

The same cockiness you’d caught a glimpse of during your escapade in the kitchen is back and the memory you associate it with makes the back of your neck prickle with heat. You clear your throat and avert your eyes.

Thankfully Director Ryu interrupts before Hoseok has the chance to fluster you further. You follow each of the director’s voiced directives until you’re comfortably seated on Hoseok’s lap, dress hitched around your waist because of how far your knees are spread on either side of Hoseok’s thighs. There’s a quick, last minute adjustment as Director Ryu ensures that the camera in the left corner picks up on everything it’s supposed to.

Satisfied, he lets you take the reins from there, then gives the cameras the signal to begin rolling.

You don’t waste a moment, taking his earlier commentary to heart. It’s your turn to pepper kisses all over Hoseok’s golden skin, leaving faint traces of rouge behind like an artist signing their own painting. You stop a few times to admire your work. Lip prints and lavender bite marks color his skin and the sight awakens a possessive streak you didn’t know you had.

Your enthusiasm to mark him up gets a little out of hand.

"Mhm." Hoseok grunts when you lick over a sensitive spot under his jaw. "Slow down, princess. There's no rush. We have all night."

He cups his chin between his hands so you have no choice but to relent and direct your gaze up at him. You’re pleased to see that he’s not completely indifferent to your touch; despite his instructions to take it slow, the smoldering look in his eyes tell a different story.

He runs the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, the pink flesh no doubt swollen. You take the digit in your mouth, unprompted, and run your tongue against its underside, wishing that his cock could fill your mouth instead.

Hoseok makes a noise low in his throat, not quite a growl but close.

"And I intend to take my time with you." The look he levels you with promises a night full of mind-numbing pleasure. Ribbons of heat curl around the base of your spine. "Want to make you feel good."

"You do," you agree, words muffled around the thumb you refuse to let go of.

You take a hold of his wrist and free your mouth, only to quickly replace it with his forefinger and middle finger. The stretch of two digits makes you moan lewdly.

Hoseok’s eyes darken. He lets you play for a few more seconds before he takes back control, his fingers pushing deeper into your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. You swallow down a gag, but his fingers don’t let you rest for long. He drags them over the flat of your tongue, watching as spit dribbles down past the sides of your mouth, and repeats the motion, pumping into your mouth steadily like he would a cock.

As nice as it feels to be filled with his fingers, whether in your cunt or mouth, you’re ready for more. Subconsciously, your hips grind down in his lap, shifting this way and that until you’re perfectly seated over his hardened length.

Drool is pushed out of your mouth as Hoseok squeezes a third fingers in with the other two. You suck harder, hoping that all your efforts will spur Hoseok into finally fucking you. The knowledge that he has to, at one point or another, keeps you from whining and begging pathetically for his cock. You can exercise patience if you put your mind to it; you’re sure of it. 

Your on-screen husband decides to test that resolve.

His other hand starts to wander south, his fingers toying with the short hem of your dress that’s been rucked up even higher with all your rocking and grinding. The movement of your hips slow, your brain unable to keep up with the stimuli coming in all directions.

A crack resounds in the room, the sharp sound startling you more than the sting that accompanies it. Hoseok’s palm rubs over the heated area, only inflaming it further.

“And who told you you could stop?”

The second slap is notably harsher than the first, and your hips automatically lurch forward hoping perhaps to lessen the impact of the sting.

You know he doesn’t expect a verbal answer; his second hand keeps your mouth plugged up, making any attempt at talking unintelligible. It doesn’t stop you from trying, only because you know the muffled protest are greatly appreciated amongst viewers. And if the way Hoseok’s digs his fingers into your smarting ass cheek is any indicator, you’re confident that he also enjoys your squirming and messy display.

“Keep moving, princess. I need both your holes nice and wet.”

The way his voice dips an octave makes your stomach twist in arousal. You long to tell him that you’re sufficiently wet enough for him to slide his cock inside right away but all you manage are pitiful garbled words.

He raises an eyebrow at your delayed response and your hips move before he can smack the globes of your ass for a third time. You have an inkling he’ll only hit harder with the intention of leaving marks of his own all over your skin.

It’s a careful balancing act, but you figure it out as you go. Bounce too fast and the fingers in your mouth will make you gag. Move too slowly for his liking and he won’t hesitate to add to the collection of handprints on your ass.

You lose track of how long he makes you play this game. Your mind focuses on sucking while keeping your jaw slack enough to accomadate the width of three digits. Drool pools down your chin, and you’re certain whatever the make-up artist had done to your lips is now ruined. Worse off are your panties. At the stage they’re at now, you’ll have no choice but to throw them out. Hoseok’s pants might need be as unsalveagable as your thong, you think inwardly, judging by the large, dark wet spot you’re currently sitting on.

“Mmh, good girl.” 

He gently slides his fingers out, strings of saliva attached. He hums in satisfaction at the lewd sight and rubs his fingers across your swollen lips and shiny chin, spreading the fluids and what’s left of your lipstick over your mouth. You swallow, mouth sore from being used roughly for so long.

“This hole is sufficiently wet, I think,” he appraises, eyelashes fluttering before he casts a long look down your body until it reaches where you’re seated on his clothed erection. “Let’s check this one too.”

The way he smirks at you but makes no move to check himself lets you know that he expects you to do the work.

You let your hands trail down your body slowly, cupping your breasts as you do, enjoying his hooded gaze and the way his cock twitches beneath you a bit too much. When you reach the hem of your dress, you lift your hips up to pull the fabric up to your navel giving an unobstructed view of your lace-covered pussy.

Hoseok stare intensifies but you don’t feel any embarrassment from the scrutiny. “Well you certainly look ripe.”

His fingers toy with the delicate string of lace around your hips. He lets the material snap against your skin a few times before he grows bored or impatient with his own game and gives the lace a harsh yank. It tears easily and the leftover scraps fall into his lap.

“... But just to be sure -” His hands grip your waist and manhandle you onto your hands and knees. Your head spins from how suddenly he’s moved you around to his liking that your arms give out and you fall face first into the clean smelling bed sheets. “Gotta give my favorite hole of yours a better look.”

His hands hoist your hips at a higher angle so that your soaked center is visible for the cameras to pan onto. Hoseok slides in two fingers easily, then a third. Loud, obscene noises echo in the otherwise quiet room, noises that are quickly joined by your unabashed moans of pleasure.

Your core is on fire. Hoseok’s fingers are just as good as you remember them to be. No, better. The three fingers pump into you in measured strokes, the drag slow enough to keep you dangling over the edge without pushing you over.

Hoseok spanks your ass, hissing between his teeth as you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining your inner walls hugging his cock instead. 

“Christ. You’re always such a soft, wet little thing down here,” he croons in dulcet tones. “I could play with you all day.”

You thrust your hips back, shameless.

“Please! Please Daddy, I’ll be so good, I just - please - I nuh, need it. Need your cock fucking me full. I’ll take it so good, you know I will. Want you to - please! Daddy, I need your cum.”

“Shit.”

He fumbles in his haste to flip you onto your back. He crawls over your body, and you watch fascinated as he dives down to kiss you like a man starved. He looks almost feral, pupils so dilated the brown of his eyes is almost gone.

Heat blooms in your stomach as he kisses you deeply. The press of his lips against yours renders you a little less coherent as time ticks on, every brush of his tongue making you a little more dizzy with want.

Everything about him burns. It feels like being kissed by the sun itself. Every caress, every lick and nip leaves you feverish all over, like your drunk off his touch.

"Let me," he says, pinching the zipper of your dress between his thumb and index finger.

You wrap your hand around his and guide his movements. His gaze never leaves yours and it makes shivers run down your back. Even though you're the one controlling his movements for the time being, the look in his eyes makes it abundantly clear that the control you wield is only temporary.

When your dress finally falls open, you try not to preen too much under the reverent look that falls over Hoseok’s face. Your back arches a little off the bed, pert breasts thrust towards him - an appealing offer he doesn’t dare refuse.

Hoseok circles a thumb around your nipple, rubbing and flicking until it hardens into a stiff peak.

You wonder, distantly, how this looks like from the outside looking in. The man in front of you is a stranger in all senses of the word. Yet the way he touches you - like there are years of built-up affection behind every gesture - makes you second guess everything you know.

"Fuckin' love your tits.” He sighs, awe reflected in the dark of his eyes. "Love playing with them. Love how wet it gets you, how hungry your little pussy gets."

"Please,” you mewl, his words igniting a new wave of heat. It rolls over your body, leaving no extremity untouched. You burn from the inside out with raw desire.

You squeeze your own breasts in a bid to get him to touch you more. Hoseok merely chuckles, finding your desperation entertaining. One of his hands reach down between you to play with the wetness that clings to your core like a second skin and it takes everything inside of you not to rub yourself against him like a bitch in heat.

"What is it, princess?" His lips quirk into a smirk like he already knows the answer. "You're looking quite needy. How did you manage to hold it in all this time?"

“Stop teasing,” you growl, the lack of friction making you irritable. "I need your cock. And why - why do you have so many fucking clothes on?”

He chuckles, chest vibrating in amusement.

“Take them off,” you insist. Then, you grudgingly tack on a “Please” for good measure.

As hot as Hoseok looks like in his “work clothes”, he looks infinitely better naked, you decide as he chucks off his button-down shirt and gets started on his leather belt. With each new piece of clothing that gets discarded, the anticipation building inside of you skyrockets.

You take a moment to soak in his lithe figure, not bothering to hide how affected you are by the view. He’s nicely sculpted; you can tell right away that he takes care of himself. Swimming or dancing maybe? You hesitate between the two. His muscles are lean, nothing like the bulging biceps and thick forearms typical of the stereotypical gym rat.

Hoseok’s dick is, unsurprisingly, as pretty as the rest of him. It’s long and curved, a prominent vein running along its underside. The thatch of pubic hair that rests above his dick is neatly trimmed, the dark hair contrasting with the tan skin of his abdomen and the rosy hue of his erect length. Your eyes swoop down his thighs, licking your lips unwittingly at the alluring sight presented to you.

“Daddy,” you say, the whine in your voice unmistakable. “Want your cock.”

For a brief moment you’re tricked into believing he’s given in to your demand, but find yourself disappointed when he contents himself with rubbing his hardened member between your thighs, the glide slippery thanks to the copious amount of your essence that’s pooled there.

“Like this?” Hoseok asks, tone too sweet to be anything but mocking. The head of his cock bumps into your swollen bundle of nerves one, two, three times. You keen, your hips canting upwards in a bid to get more friction. “Want to rut against me until you get nice and creamy?”

He uses his right hand to spread your slick lower lips so that he can nestle his cock snuggly between them. He rolls his hips, the undulations fluid and dirty, and smirks at how you moan brokenly beneath him.

Your stomach clenches. “Need it in me."

"You'll get it," he promises after kissing you sloppily, lips sucking on your tongue. His breath is ragged but his voice steady, firm. "I'll give you everything you need. Make you cum so many times you know who owns this sweet pussy."

He speaks so surely, carries himself with so much confidence, that in the moment you can't help but believe him. The line between staged and reality blurs and you find yourself nodding eagerly, begging him as best you can to give you what you want.

The first tentative push of his dick wipes you clean of coherency. He slowly eases himself into you, reaching forward to lace his fingers with yours. It’s - more intimate than you expected. He squeezes your hand tightly in his when he finally manages to bury his entire length inside of you.

“Perfect.” He kisses the side of your temple before drawing back, his hard cock dragging deliciously against you. With a fluid hip thrust, he slides back in and you feel the stretch moreso this time around. The curvature of his cock has him pressing up against your walls in a way that robs you of breath.

"Daddy! Hh - ah, oh God. You're too b-big."

"Mhm, that's right. Daddy's fat cock is splitting you open. I'll plug you up with it later so none of my cum will leak out."

Every time he pulls back, your pussy clamps down tightly around him, unwilling to be empty even for a second.

Hoseok’s nostrils flare in arousal. He grabs your left tit and squeezes, using it as a hold to better fuck into you. With his body hovering above yours, his hand staking claim of your breast, and his cock drilling into you, you have nowhere to go. Pinned to the bed and unable to do anything but take everything he delivers, you wrap your legs around his waist and moan.

"Daddy's gonna fuck some babies into you,” he rasps, his eyes dark pools of lust. "Gonna breed your sweet pussy over and over. You'll be so full of my cum that you'll be pregnant with my babies for sure."

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes - oh my nhhg.” You sob as Hoseok drives his cock into you with more force. While the piston of his hips isn’t rushed, he pulls out to the tip only to slam back in to the hilt every time. The stretch burns in a good way and the sound of your moans are rivaled only by the wet, obscene sounds from your coupling.

"Fuck. Your cunt just - shit." He cracks down a hand against your ass and you shriek, not expecting it. "You're so tight, holy shit."

"Want it. Want you to fuck me good."

"I will," he says lowly, the promise reverberating deep in his chest. "I'll fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Fill you up so much, you'll be bloated with it."

And it should freak you out, the imagery he paints with his words, but the thought of laying there and him fucking you so well that you won't be able to feel your legs has you gushing out more wetness.

"Mmmh.” Maybe he can feel how soaked you are because he comments, “This is my favorite hole of yours, princess. Always so fuckin' drenched. I bet we’ll have to throw out the sheets again." He chuckles. "You must be hungry for it, right? I made you wait so long. No wonder your pussy is clenching like that. It needs a big, fat cock to milk dry."

“I missed it,” you cry, body skidding a little higher up the duvet each time he fucks into you. Your eyelashes flutter, lids heavy. It’s hard to concentrate, let alone form words, when your brain feels like complete mush. “I - I need your cum. Daddy, please.”

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I've got you. Daddy will feed your cute pussy his cock."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"Love you," he murmurs. It’s a quiet confession, lost somewhere in between the mattress creaks, the loud slaps of Hoseok’s hips slamming against yours, and the string of whimpers and groans pulled from your throat. It’s quiet but you hear it.

One of your hands reach up to pull him down by the neck so that your lips meet. He kisses you open-mouthed. It’s a filthy kiss, one that makes you moan into his mouth. You’re certain that if you had been standing your knees would have wobbled.

When you let up for air, Hoseok’s staring you down, his red-bitten lips plump and shiny.

"Love this pussy. So sweet and wet for me. Always for fucking swollen, like it's waiting to get a pounding. Love that. Love how eager you are to be bred by my thick cock."

The impregnation kink is - a bit much. You've never really imagined having kids, at least not anytime soon. You can’t even keep your plants alive for fuck’s sake.

But the way he suggests it is nothing like what you had imagined. His suggestions are - vulgar and primal. Like the urge to fuck you full of his cum is biological and he can’t smother it.

For a moment, you let yourself entertain the thought of being his breeding bitch - of laying on your back and letting him fuck load after load of cum inside you until your pussy physically can't accommodate any more. Of not having any other worries or thoughts but take his cock every moment of the day.

"You just got tighter.” He curses under his breath, voice thick with arousal.  "Such a warm little hole. Taking everything I give it. You'd take anything if it meant getting bred by me, right?"

“Yes, yes,” you chant, pleasure coiling inside of you. “Give me more! I need it."

"Shit. You can't handle more, princess," he tries to reason. "Daddy needs to be gentle with you. Your hole is so small, it'll hurt if I go harder."

"Daddy promised to fuck me.” You whine, uncaring if you sound too bratty and demanding. "B- Breed my hole. It's yours. Puh-please use me."

"God." Hoseok groans, his features twisting in what looks to be pain or pleasure. With tremendous effort he pulls himself out of you and your eyes widen in panic.

“What? Daddy why? I thought—”

He shushes you, reaching somewhere overhead to grab a fluffy pillow. "Just wait a sec, okay? There you go.”

The pillow is placed underneath your hips, keeping them elevated. When Hoseok takes his glistening cock in hand and directs it back in, you both moan in unison.

"Oh fuck, I’m gonna, ah,” you gasp as your mind goes blank with pleasure. The new angle is heaven on earth. It’s almost too much, too quick, but Hoseok’s firm grip on your hips prevents you from alleviating the pressure.

"Take it." He grunts, brows knit together. Every powerful snap of his hips makes your breasts bounce, your breath hitch. Without his hands keeping you pinned down, your head would have collided with the headboard by now. "Be a good princess and take your fucking."

He gains momentum, the new angle facilitating the slide of his cock. He drags the flat of his palm down your thigh and takes a hold of your knee before hoisting it up over your shoulder. The stretch burns the back of your calves but you’re so fucked out, you can’t even find the words to complain.

When you glance up, it’s to fall upon the sight of Hoseok brushing his sweaty fringe out of his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, his skin dewy from the film of perspiration wrapped around his body. Beads of sweat trickle down his heaving chest but he chooses to forgo a quick break. On the contrary, he pushes in deeper like he’s determined to carve out a permanent space for his cock.

"Just gonna keep you here,” he huffs, his eyes the shade of cloudless night sky. “Everyday I'll fuck my cum back inside of you so that you'll always stay full. Want to fuck you forever. Don't want this to end."

"Want it too," you sob, orgasm hovering just on the periphery. "Want you to keep me full forever. Ugh - oh fuck! Hoseok- I'm—"

"You gonna cum around my cock, princess?" He angles his hips downwards, relishing in the wanton cry it elicits. "Gonna give me everything?"

"I'm yours," you profess, jaw slack with pleasure.

It doesn’t take much more for the orgasm to crash over you, Hoseok fucks you through it, groaning as your inner walls spasm around him. He breathes out curses, lip drawn tight between his lips, and doesn’t wait for the last waves of your orgasm to abate to chase after his own end.

In the throes of your pleasure, it doesn’t register then that Hoseok has been holding back all this time. If you thought he had been fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to now. He growls and bends forward, forcing your leg to stretch even more, and pushes in and out of you at a pace that makes you scream.

You don’t even have time to come down from your first high that you’re already thrown towards your second. Hoseok plugs your mouth up using two digits, his fingers a firm pressure against your tongue. Your eyes roll back, too overwhelmed from the feeling of being stuffed on both ends.

“God, I could fuck your holes all fucking day.” His rhythm begins to falter as the pressure inside of him grows, his movements frantic and less controlled than they’ve ever been. “How about that? I’ll fuck my princess’ mouth properly next time, stretch it out nicely. Then you’ll let me have your ass, hm?”

Shit, shit, you whimper around his fingers, spit bubbling down the sides on your mouth. It’s scary knowing you have no way to stop the oncoming destruction.

“Yeah, I can tell you love that. You’re gonna cream my dick again, aren’t you?” You can’t tell if the sound he makes is a laugh or a grunt. All you know is that you feel like you’re about to burst. “C’mon, be a good girl and milk my cum out. You better get every last drop.”

There’s an underlying threat in his command. You do your best to obey his words, not wanting to disappoint.

Hoseok pushes his cock in as deep as it can go and grinds his hips into yours. His cock reaches so deep that you swear he might hit your cervix. And considering the nature of the scene you’re portraying, maybe that’s what he intends.

He swipes his fingers through the mess of your cunt, zeroing in on your sensitive clit. He swirls some of your fluids over it before giving it a sharp pinch that makes you cry out. Your hips fly off the pillow but Hoseok is quick to pin you back down. The never-ending drag of his cock along your walls paired with the rough ministrations to your clit is all you need for the pressure inside you to snap.

Above you, Hoseok moans, low and throaty, as he finally dumps rope after rope of warm cum inside of you. He throws his head back, exposing the collar of purplish bruises you sucked onto his skin earlier. Something about the view satisfies you immensely - not that you’d dare voice these thoughts out loud.

Hoseok’s strength gives out and he sags onto your body, his breath warm against your skin. He feels hot, like a furnace, but strangely it’s not uncomfortable. It’s almost like having a personal heating pad; the soreness of your muscles melts away with each passing moment.

Much to your displeasure, your post-coital bliss doesn’t last forever. He's given the signal to pull out and obeys, careful to keep your hips propped up so that his load of cum won’t slosh out. He’s still got a role to play, after all, and the end goal is to get you pregnant.

A cameraman walks forward to zoom in on your swollen and used pussy - physical proof of your exploits. The haze lifts. You become more aware of the people standing on the outskirts of your vision, lighting or sound equipment in hand.

“And that’s a wrap!” Director Ryu calls, his cheeks stretched to accommodate the width of his grin. “Good job everybody!”

You breathe out a sigh, glad your day is finally over. Seokjin walks up to you with a robe for you to throw on and you nod in thanks, slipping the satin gown over your sweaty body.

Around you, the staff start milling about, putting the equipment away and gathering their belongings. You pay them no heed, your attention focused on getting changing into showering and changing into comfortable clothes. You’re in the middle of taming your messy hair when your stomach erupts into growls, reminding you of your hungry state. What you’d do for a big slice of piz—

You remember your date with Jimin and speed up, not wanting to make him wait around for you any longer. It’s not hard to spot him - he’s waiting outside of your dressing room, can of coke in hand.

Something about his smile feels off.

Maybe it’s the way his eye corners don’t crease or the slight strain the curve of his mouth that betray him.

Your expression falls. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing - it’s nothing, don’t worry,” he says after a short, tense moment of silence. The look on your face must have reflected your feelings of doubt because he proceeds by reaching out and pulling you tight against him. Pressed up against his shirt, you can smell the faintest trace of the fabric softener he uses and its scent, familiar and sweet, mollifies you somewhat. “You did amazing today, baby. As usual.”

The compliment you’ve been waiting for makes the sides of your lips rise automatically. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Almost too well.” He hums, one of his hands stroking the back of your head.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit, “ you admit. “The results wouldn’t have been half as good if Hoseok hadn’t been my partner. He’s new in the game but he doesn’t act like it, does he?”

“He doesn’t, no.” Jimin agrees. “He’s... he’s something, alright.”

Your grin widens. All your worrying had been for nothing, in the end. The shoot had gone without a hitch, all of the set members coming up to you with praises of a job well done. You can’t recall the last time any of your performances had elicited such a response post-filming. Even Director Ryu looks particularly pleased, a permanent grin etched onto his features as he reviews the tapes. The knowledge that you’ve done well fills you with a pleasant giddiness that warms your insides and makes your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile stretches.

“Oh good, you’re still here.” Hoseok beams. A damp towel hangs around his neck and the ends of his hair are wet like he’s just gone and doused his head under the bathroom faucet. “I was worried you had left. I just - thanks for earlier. I had a lot of fun! If the chance presents itself, I hope we can work together again.”

“Thank you.” You want to praise him too, know that his performance deserves it, but your next words are cut off before they have the chance to form. Jimin steps closer to you, his grip on your hip tightening suddenly.

When you glance up to check on your boyfriend, he’s sporting a serious expression that you’ve rarely seen before. He doesn’t look angry, but it’s clear as day that he isn’t too pleased with the present situation. His face is closed off, cold, unwelcoming - so drastically different from the usual cherubic sweetness you’re accustomed to seeing.

You’re at a loss for words, unsure of who to address first. What’s going on?

Hoseok senses the sudden change in atmosphere and chooses to tactfully retreat.

“Good work, man.” He nods at Jimin and then shoots you a wave. “See you around sometime, ______ !”

Your eyes follow his exit before you turn to face Jimin again, hoping the smile on your face masks the worry you feel bubbling on the inside.

“Jimin what - I mean, are you sure you're okay?”

Jimin returns a strained smile of his own. “I’m fine.”

Your gaze lands on his right hand that’s still squeezing your waist. It borders on uncomfortable but you try not to let it show. You must not do a very good job at schooling your features because Jimin quickly apologizes for his behavior.

“Sorry.” Jimin lets you go once he notices your discomfort. “I just - I don’t know. You’re right, I’m not acting like myself. I think...seeing you say that stuff and act that way just - I’m not sure why, I guess - Since usually the sex isn’t like that, it caught me off guard.”

“You didn’t like that I acted like I was in love with him.”

“Would anyone?” he shoots back, smile sardonic. “It just looked so convincing in the moment. I guess it got me worked up.”

Sure, Hoseok is hot. If you had to work with him again, you would in a heartbeat. It’s not often you land a colleague you’re so sexually compatible with, who also happens to be so well-mannered and good-looking. It’s like hitting the jackpot, really.

But - just because you’d fuck him again for professional reasons, doesn’t mean that you’re interested in him beyond that.

“Jimin. I don’t want to be with anybody else but you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” The muscles in his face relax. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

.

.

It’s not until later, as he fucks you uncharacteristically hard in the backseat of his car parked in the back lot of the film studio, that you begin to wonder if things really are as idyllic as you believe them to be.

.

.

.

[sluttyten]

summary: you’re the ceo, doyoung’s your nervous intern, and a trip overseas turns business into pleasure.

warnings/tags: sub!doyoung, mutual masturbation, praise kink 

words: 6,082

pairing: Doyoung x Gender Neutral Reader

You’ve just gotten out of your fifth meeting of the day. You have two more meetings scheduled before you can head home for the night, and at this point you’re just a wound up knot of stress and a headache is beginning to sear behind your right eyebrow.

“Excuse me?” A light knock on the open doorway follows the quiet inquiry.

You open your eyes while rubbing at your temples, and there stands the fidgety intern who you’ve noticed hovering outside your office door on multiple occasions, but he always seems too nervous to actually come inside.

Doyoung.

“I’m sorry if you’re busy. I can come back another time.” His words spill out in a rush, and he clutches a file to his chest.

“It’s alright.” You sits up straight and fold your hands in front of you on the desk. “Come in, Doyoung. What can I do for you today?”

He hurries to sit down in the chair across from you as if he’s worried that you’re going to change your mind and throw him out. It makes you wonder what horror stories your employees are telling him about you.

For a moment you think that his nervousness is going to be a problem. His eyes dart all around the office, not meeting your gaze. He keeps fidgeting, folding the corner of the file he brought in, shifting in the chair, tapping his fingers on the file.

Then he meets your eyes.

“I’ve been an intern here for a year now. I wanted to come talk to you about finding a position here.” Doyoung sits the file on your desk, sliding it across to you. “A permanent position.”

You don’t need to open his file. Ever since the first time you saw Doyoung you’ve liked him. You asked your assistant for his employee file, and you’d read up on that hard-working although nervous-looking intern. His file was impressive, full of accomplishments and accolades.

But you humor him since he went through the trouble of bringing you the file.

You flip it open, scan down the long list of achievements. You look at the photo ID and glance up at him.

Doyoung’s not so fidgety at the moment. Instead he’s looking around your office curiously, checking out your degrees on the wall behind your head, the photos and novels on the bookshelf to your right.

You’re tempted to tell him that you can’t give him a position here. He’s handsome and his achievements alone are a turn on. You like a man who’s got some big stuff under his belt (take that whichever way you will).

You fold one leg over the other and sit the file back down on your desk.

As much as you would love to not give him a position here at the company so you could pursue him romantically, you can’t ruin a man’s career just because you’re hot for him.

Doyoung’s gaze snaps back to you and he swallows hard; the bobbing of his Adam’s Apple catches your eye.

”I’ll see what we can do for you, Doyoung. You’re a perfect fit for our company, and I look forward to working with you in the future.”

You extend a hand across the desk, and Doyoung’s lips bloom into a gorgeous wide smile. He takes your hand. The warm press of his skin against yours flushes your entire body with heat, and you curse the god you angered who filled your schedule for the day so you can’t immediately leave for home to get yourself off.

💕💕💕💕

Over the following days you do get Doyoung a permanent position at the company. It’s one that’s available, as well as one that is a good fit for him, and it just so happens that this position puts him closer to you than any of the other positions that Doyoung could have filled.

It’s totally not for selfish reasons.

And then one day, you’re returning to your office from a lunch meeting when you once again see Doyoung standing near your office, arms folded across his chest, staring down at his nervously tapping foot. Woefully ignorant of your assistant making eyes at him.

”Doyoung,” You smile at him. “How are you?”

He jumps, startled out of his thoughts. “I’m wonderful. I have a few questions for you if that’s alright. I know you’re busy but I asked—“ He waves toward your assistant. “She said your schedule was clear right now.”

You push the door open into your office. “Of course I’ve got time, Doyoung. Come in.”

He follows closely behind you. The scent of his cologne swells around you, his sleeve brushes your arm as you both reach to close the door. You roll your lips together and move quickly around your desk to sit down, wanting to put a bit of distance between yourself and him before you do something you might regret.

“You have questions?” You lean back in your chair to stare over at a Doyoung. “I hope you like the new position? If not we can try another.”

Doyoung’s cheeks turn faintly pink and he stumbles over a few words before he finally says, “No, I like it. It’s good.”

He asks a few questions after that. Easy questions that he could’ve asked his coworkers or the manager overseeing his level of the company. None of them were particularly questions that required him to come to the CEO’s office.

But the more time you spent with him, the more at ease he became with you. Without his nervousness you found him even more charming than usual, and you found that you quite enjoyed his company for more than just being able to look at his pretty face.

That day as well as the next. And the next.

Doyoung became a regular fixture in your office. He was important enough in the company that you could bring him along to meetings. Lunches and dinners, travels across the city and out of town.

Even out of the country.

”I’ve never been out of the country before.” Doyoung tells you as you sit in the cab on your way to the hotel. Your assistant sits between the pair of you, and behind you a few other high-ranking individuals in the company ride in another cab.

”Get used to it. We frequently visit here for meetings with investors.” You smile over at him, but he’s looking out the window at all the sights of a new city. “Soon you’ll know this city as well as home. You’ll know the best restaurants, the hotels that have the fastest WiFi, the streets and areas to avoid.”

Doyoung turns, catches your eye, and says, “I think dinner sounds wonderful right now.” He swallows and you notice his fingers nervously messing with the band of his watch. “Do you have any recommendations?”

“A few. Are you interested?”

Your assistant types away on her phone, earbuds in her ears where you can hear light music spilling out. She’s not paying any attention to you and Doyoung, which you almost wish she were so you could find out if you were just imagining the way Doyoung was looking at you as he said, “Yes, I’m interested.”

Maybe you’re misreading everything. Maybe the tone of his voice and the way he looks at you is just an interest in fine dining in a foreign city. Or maybe it really is physical attraction, like the way you feel for him.

“What sort of dining are you looking for?”

Doyoung fiddles with his watch band a bit more, and your attention is drawn to his fingers, the veins covering the backs of his hands and vanishing up under the sleeves of his shirt. And your eyes wander a bit more, to his thighs, his lap, the shape of something there that could be his wallet, his phone, any number of things that need not be sexual.

But you wish.

“Maybe you could just come with me? I’m not the best at speaking the language, and I know you’re very familiar with the tongue.” Doyoung looks out the window.

As much as you’ve come to enjoy a more confident and comfortable Doyoung, you do still like when he gets nervous around you.

“I think that would be a good idea. The last thing we want is you getting lost or accidentally insulting someone.” You tell him just as the cab pulls up in front of the hotel. “I’ll see you in the lobby in an hour. I know the perfect restaurant.”

💕💕💕💕

“You’ve come a long way from the intern who was too nervous to enter my office, you know.” You tip your glass of wine toward Doyoung over the table in this restaurant. “Wouldn’t you say?”

Doyoung chuckles and drinks from his own wineglass. “I’ve always been nervous. But you intimidate me. In a different way.” His gaze flicks up over the rim of his wineglass. There’s a playful energy in his eyes, something full of promise and confidence, far different from the nervousness he often displays in your presence.

“What way is that, Mr. Kim?”

In this time between your main course and dessert, you feel satisfied, happy and a bit buzzed from the wine. You don’t want the waiter to return with your desserts because with Doyoung sitting across from you with his wide smile and that light in his eyes, you feel like dessert’s already here. You sit there, appreciating the faint blush on his cheeks, the fiery glow in his eyes.

“I’ve felt a strong attraction to you since the first day I began my internship,” He speaks honestly. “The power you possess in the company, the way you speak, even the way you sit in your office is just incredibly attractive.”

Doyoung leans forward then, and you find yourself moving as well, drifting closer to him until only a few inches of table keep you apart.

His eyes shimmer and you swear the world grows warmer and slows down and goes quiet except for you and Doyoung in that moment. All of space and time compresses and it’s just the pair of you, just Doyoung’s lips opening and moving, his voice slow and deep and quiet as he says, “You intimidate me because of how much you turn me on.”

A bolt of heat strikes through your core.

You can’t wait for dessert.

”Tell you what, Doyoung,” You lean back and move your napkin from your lap to the table. “Forget dessert.” You throw more than enough cash onto the table to cover both your meal and Doyoung’s, and you stand up. “Come with me.”

Doyoung stares up at you with wide eyes for a second and then another, then you hold out your hand to him and twitch your fingers.

He puts his hand in yours, sweet and warm and soft skin against your skin. You flag down a cab outside, and as you rattle off an address to the driver, you turn to Doyoung.

“I want to show you some other places I like in the city. Are you alright with that?”

His fingers circle your wrist, tangle with your fingers, and he’s so clingy and still blushing and so fucking adorable that you can’t help yourself. You lean in and kiss him. It’s a chaste kiss, all things considered. If you gave him more than just a quick press of your lips against his, then you’re not sure what you would do, if you’d be able to hold off from fucking him right there in the backseat of this cab.

You can picture it. Riding him, his hands spread wide on your ass, his lips sucking marks on your chest. You want to feel him under you, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his mouth hanging open to pour out the sounds of his pleasure.

But you don’t.

You just let Doyoung hold your hand and play with your fingers, and you watch him out of the corner of your eyes as he licks his lips again, his eyes dazed as he surely replays that kiss in his mind.

“Where are we going?” He asks after a handful of minutes as the driver begins turning down darker and narrower side streets.

“The long way back to the hotel.” You squeeze his fingers. “I liked what you said at the restaurant. About how I intimidate you and how that turns you on. Just so you know, Doyoung, when you came into my office that first day, when I read your file and saw all those wonderful things you’ve accomplished, it made me wonder, what other great and wonderful things you’ve got under your belt.”

Doyoung goes suddenly very still and quiet, and you wonderful if you’ve said something wrong, but before you can turn your head to actually look at him, Doyoung moves. He guides your hand from where it rests between you onto his thigh, over the fine material to where you can just feel a bulge against the back of your hand.

His breath catches in his throat at your touch.

You flick your gaze up to the front of the cab, to the rearview mirror to make sure that the driver’s not watching. He’s not, so you twist your head to the side and kiss Doyoung’s cheek and whisper against his ear, “Stay quiet.”

He makes a soft noise that you take as a yes.

There’s no argument when you loosen your fingers from his, and he shifts in his seat as you place your hand over the definite shape of his hard cock in his pants. You watch as Doyoung bites his lip to keep silent while you rub your hand over him, massaging lightly to feel his cock jump in your hand.

After a few moments of this, the bare stretch of his neck just looks too enticing to miss out on, so you lean in and kiss his throat as he leans his head back and closes his eyes.

You kiss Doyoung’s throat and rub his cock, but it’s not enough. You want more.

You make quick work of his belt, the button fastening his pants, and then your hand slides beneath all his layers. Skin on skin. Hot and hard and slick.

“Ah,” His mouth falls open. “Ah, ah.”

Little sounds that make you a little more horny. Heat coils in your gut.

“Shh,” You stroke him through it. “If you’re not quiet, we’ll get caught. Unless that’s what you want. Do you want him watching?” Your lips run down the length of Doyoung’s throat, and you sense the barest vibration of a moan.

As the lights of the city grow brighter around you once again, as the cab draws closer and closer to the cab, you move your hand faster.

Doyoung whines, and his hand suddenly clenches around your wrist. “Please.”

“Please more?” You sit upright, and check once more to see if the driver’s looking. “Or please stop? You’re so hard, Doyoung. Are you close? If I just touch you a bit more will you…”

The car rolls to a stop.

From the front seat, the driver rattles the address back at you, requests payment, and finally looks into the rearview mirror. Doyoung scrambles to compose himself while you pay the cab driver, and then together you step from the car to stand in front of the hotel.

Doyoung walks with you through the lobby, into the elevator. You stand side by side as the doors close, as you press the number for the floor where everyone in the company who’s there has a room. The doors close and the lift shudders as it begins to rise.

You reach for Doyoung, gripping his belt loops as you back up to the wall, and tug him in front of you. “Come to my room so we can finish what we started. Do you want that?”

Doyoung nods and licks his lips nervously.

“They’ll talk about us. Everyone else.” You press yourself up against Doyoung, slipping your hands around to rest on his ass. He whines again and grinds forward against you, tucking his face forward into your neck, lapping at your throat. “The slutty intern who fucked his way up the company hierarchy by sleeping with the CEO.”

“That’s me.” Doyoung sighs heavily against your throat. “I don’t care what they think.”

“Good.”

The elevator’s doors open, and you drag Doyoung from the elevator, down the hallway, past all these doors that hold people from the company. He slides his hand against your lower back when you stand in front of your door to unlock it, and in a voice so soft that it won’t carry along the hallway, Doyoung tells you, “I can’t wait to taste you on my tongue.”

“We’ll get there in time, darling.” You push the door open and gesture for Doyoung to step inside. “First I want to see you truly fall apart for me. Get on the bed.”

The door slams behind you, and you toe off your shoes and start working at the buttons of your shirt. Doyoung listens well to you, sitting down on the bed, and watching as you strip off your shirt while you walk toward him, casting the material aside right as you come to stand in front of him.

“Don’t hold your breath. You can touch me.” You reach for Doyoung’s hands, those beautiful fingers, and you guide him to your stomach, wanting to feel his fingers on your body. “I want you to touch me. Kiss me,” You lean forward until your mouth right above his, “I want you to please me.”

Doyoung slides his hand up your abdomen to your chest, his thumb sliding over your nipple, fingers tracing down your back. He presses his lips just below your navel, kisses upward. You dig your fingers into his hair, raking them through it to drag his head back.

“Take your shirt off, Doyoung.”

“Yes.” He leans back, and his hands shake as he rushes to unbutton his shirt, unfasten his tie, cast them both aside, and when he looks up at you again, awaiting your next request, his cheeks are tinted pink once more.

He’s obedient. He strips off his pants, his socks, unlatches his watch to sit it on the bedside table. He spreads his legs and palms his erection at your request.

“You’re so good, Doyoung.” You reach out and trace your fingers along the line of his jaw. “So cute, so sexy. I love when you blush.” You run your thumb over his cheek where there’s a splash of pink like a rose in bloom. “Tell me, what do you want me to do with you the most? Should I finish you off with my hand like I almost did in the car? Should I fuck you?”

The only answer you get in response is a low whine and his hips bucking up. Doyoung’s erection strains against the fabric of his underwear.

“Sit back, baby. All the way.”

Doyoung slides back on the bed, resting himself among the pillows, and you climb up as well to settle between his legs. “I want you to make noise, Doyoung. Moan for me.” You squeeze his thigh, trail your fingers higher, and run your pointer finger along the line of his cock. “I want to hear you begging, alright?”

“I understand.”

His chest already heaves breathlessly and you’ve barely touched him.

Simply cupping your hand over his bulge, rubbing him again, sends a pretty shade of pink over his chest. You tease, rubbing for a few strokes, then just a finger running up and down his length, just your fingertips stroking the sides. And then you massage the tip of his cock, half-visible through the dampness of his underwear.

Doyoung’s breath hiccups and then he moans loudly, so loudly that he throws an arm over his face, muffling his sounds in the crook of his elbow.

You jerk him off through his underwear, just wanting to see him make a mess of his boxers. You want to see him falling apart just from your touch.

He moans again, louder, and he stuffs his knuckles into his mouth.

“Hush, baby. The others will hear you.” You run your hands above his waistband, touch his stomach and lean forward to kiss the sensitive skin between his navel and the elastic waistband of his boxers. Doyoung bucks his hips up. You press a hand to his hip, holding him down against the bed. “No, baby. I’m taking my time with you.”

“You’re so bossy,” He whines, and when you look up at him, his head is thrown back, and he licks his lips while his fingers scrabble against the bedsheets, seeking purchase. “I wanna cum. Please.”

Hearing him beg hits just the right spot for you. You want to give it to him just as much as Doyoung wants it. You plan to give him several orgasms tonight. What’s it hurt if you hurry him into this one? You want to hear him moaning for you, see him shooting his load inside his boxers and still begging you for more like the sweet, needy boy that he is.

“Doyoung,” You kiss his belly again, run your fingertips up and down his thighs, and when he rolls his hips up you dip your fingertips under the legs of his boxers to the sensitive crease where his thighs meet his groin and you kiss down to the throbbing shape of his cock, fit your lips around his clothed tip, and you suck.

The noise he makes now starts out like a quiet series of whimpers and grows into gasping moans, his hips rocking up against your mouth, your name spilling out.

His hips rise up off the bed, “Fuck, oh my god!” Doyoung cries and beneath your lips you feel him cumming, hot and damp.

Quickly, you drag his boxers down while he’s still going through the last waves of his orgasm, and you at last wrap your fingers directly around him, placing his cock on the tip of your tongue and jerking him off on your tongue, shooting the last few times onto your tongue and oozing over your fingers.

After a moment or two Doyoung whimpers and reaches down, his hands moving for yours on his cock, and you stop, lean back and stop touching him completely. His dick you leave out in the open, his groin area sticky and damp.

“This is embarrassing,” Doyoung covers his bright red face, muffled laughter comes from behind his hands. “You’re my CEO, you just made me cum in my underwear. This is a total lack of professionalism.”

“Mhmm, but it is fun.” You lick your fingers, getting another small taste of his cum. Doyoung bites his lip and leans up on his elbows, looking eager for more, which brings you to ask him, “How much longer before you’re ready to go again?”

Doyoung’s eyes flutter somewhat sleepily, angled downward to watch you as you stand off the bed and push your pants off, rid yourself of your underwear and climb back up, slipping your saliva and cum-slicked fingers between your legs. His eyes follow your every move. He watches you lean back and move your legs, watches you move your fingers, slicking yourself up before you ease a finger inside slowly, carefully.

“I want to ride you, Doyoung. I’m going to need you hard again. Can you do that for me?” You curl your finger inside yourself, pressing against that spot that makes your gut curl.

The sound he makes is a mix between a moan and a whine. His eyes are glued to the spot where your finger disappears inside your hungry entrance and soon you push in a second finger. Doyoung’s hand sneaks down toward his cock, but he hesitates before he touches himself as if he’s not certain he’s allowed to.

“Go ahead,” You tell him. “I want to watch you masturbate.”

So you watch each other. Doyoung’s eyes can’t seem to look away from where you finger yourself, stretching yourself open so you can easily sit down on his cock. And he slowly grows perfectly big and hard for you again, pumping himself in his fist, and when you’ve had just enough of Doyoung humping his fist and groaning, moaning, and begging to feel you around him, you swat his hands away and move up over him so you can take a seat.

You straddle his hips and press your hands on either side of his face, hovering just above him.

“Can I touch you?” He asks you softly, his eyes flicking back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “Please?”

“Touch me, Doyoung.” You take on of his hands as you lower yourself to kiss him, and you bring his hand up to your shoulder.

When your lips touch, this time it’s a genuine kiss. It’s more than just a dry brush of your lips against his, it’s open mouths, tongues, his lip caught between your teeth, your power asserted over him as you deepen the kiss, and Doyoung just holds you closer, his hand on your shoulder and caressing the side of your neck and your cheek.

You can feel his need for you in every single thing he does. It’s in the way he touches you, in the way he kisses you, the way he moans like he’s trying to speak to tell you what he wants but he doesn’t dare stop kissing you.

When you slowly sink down on his erect cock, the stretch is perfect. You roll and swivel your hips, teasing him when you pull back up before you’ve taken even half of him in. Doyoung just whines and kisses you, but he stays still, doesn’t try to take charge and thrust up into you, and you love that.

He stays still and submissive, letting you do to him what you’d like.

A blush rises up his chest to his neck, and you place your hands over it, feeling the heat of his skin, the pounding of his heartbeat as you roll your hips and bottom out.

Doyoung rolls his lips together and moans deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest, his hands flutter over your thighs and hips before he moves them to encircle your wrists.

“You feel so good, honey.” You roll your hips slowly, feeling so full with him, and you slip one of your hands from his chest to touch yourself. “I’ve wanted to have you like this since you first walked into my office. With your sexy hands, your Adam’s Apple.” You lean forward and bite at his throat, lick over his Adam’s Apple.

“More,” Doyoung moans.

You kiss his throat, still moving slow on him. “More what?”

He whines, which just increases in volume as you kiss his throat and clench around his cock.

“Tell me, Doyoung.” You grind down, suck at a spot low on his throat, and then sit upright, digging the heel of your palm into his chest. “What do you want more of, baby?”

He turns his head to the side, trying to hide his embarrassed face in the sheets.

“You can tell me, Doyoung. I want to make you feel good, and I can only do that if you use your words and tell me what you want.” You stroke your fingers on his chest and sit still for a moment as he keeps his face turned away, and after a moment of that, you reach out with your free hand and take his chin gently to turn him back to face you.

His eyes meet yours for a second before he looks away. His face glows rosy pink with embarrassment, and his front teeth worry at his bottom lip so he looks cute and sweet.

“You’re so cute, Doyoung, so pretty and sexy.”

His bottom lip pops free and his gaze lifts to yours. “That. More of that.”

“Praise. You want to be praised, baby?” That burns something warm inside of you, just the idea of praising him and him absolutely loving it.

Doyoung nods.

You shake his hand off from where it still encircles your wrist so you can reach back, place your hand on his thigh, lift up and drive yourself back down on his cock, bouncing on him, driving him right against that spot inside you, the tip of his cock right up against that, stimulating both of you.

You lower your gaze to meet his eyes, and that alone seems to do it for him. His hands move to his chest and he touches his nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers.

“Doyoung,” You moan his name. “You look so sexy right now, and your cock is so good, so big. And look at you, baby,” You drop down fully on his cock, slide your hand up his chest to take one of his hands and slide your fingers together. Doyoung whimpers and his hand tightens around yours. “You’re so needy and pretty and I just want more of you. All the time. Earlier in the car I couldn’t help looking at your hands and wanting to feel you touching me, baby.”

Doyoung nods, watching as you lift your intertwined hands up toward your face. You separate your hands, and guide a few of his fingers toward your mouth, suck them in for just a moment, laving your tongue over his skin to get the digits nice and wet.

“I like that too.” Doyoung tells you, watching your lips close around his fingers. His own mouth hangs open a bit, mesmerized as you pump his fingers in and out of your mouth, and you imagine for a moment what it would be like to feel him sucking on you. But that’s not what you’re aiming for right now.

You pull his fingers from your mouth, and as you resume riding him, you guide his fingers down to touch you.

“I want you to make me cum, Doyoung. Then you can, but, baby, you’d better not cum before me. Alright?”

He moans in acknowledgement.

So you pick up the pace again, riding him hard and fast, his fingers on your helping to drive you quickly toward orgasm, his cock stretching you open, nailing right against that spot. When he slips out of you and you have to reach back to get him back inside you, just the feel of your fingertips on his cock have Doyoung moaning, and you can tell that he’s getting close again as well. His fingers stutter on you, distracted.

“Doyoung, come here.” You motion with your chin, and he sits up to become face-to-face with you, and it changes the angle he fits inside of you a bit, and he has to adjust his hand and the way that he’s touching you.

You reach for his jaw, cupping his face between your hands, and you press forward to kiss him, still grinding down on his cock as that burning knot of pleasure rises and grows inside of you. His fingers still working on you while he opens his mouth to you, letting you slip your tongue into his mouth.

“Fuck, Doyoung,” You back out of the kiss as you feel right on the edge of your orgasm. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck, you’re so good at this, baby. You feel so good, I’m gonna--”

You crush your mouth against his again to muffle the sounds of your orgasm as it washes through you and you feel yourself letting go. The hot rush of your orgasm covers you, and you twitch and quake on Doyoung’s cock, your hands on his jaw keeping him as close as you can.

You kiss him, suck at his bottom lip, mumble a few more praises against his mouth, and you keep moving your hips for him, clenching around his cock.

“You can cum for me, baby. I want to feel you cum inside me.” You stroke your fingers along his jaw, kiss his cheek and his forehead, his lips again as well.

Doyoung’s hands both move to your hips, and his hands are gentle while he helps you keep moving on him at just the right pace.

He whimpers and moans and kisses you. His skin feels hot under your touch, and when you pull back for a moment to look him full in the eye, you notice that his eyes have grown teary, his face is flushed, and he looks so beautifully fucked.

“Cum.”

All it takes is your one-word command.

Doyoung holds you down on his cock as his cock throbs and pulses his semen into you, hot and so good. You drag his mouth into another kiss to swallow the panting, breathless sounds of pleasure he makes. HE whines as you clench around him, still slightly swiveling your hips, and he pulls out of the kiss to tuck his face into your shoulder.

“Baby.” You comb your fingers through the back of his hair, and you lightly tug to get him to face you once more.

His eyes are closed, face flushed as he goes soft inside you.

“You did so good, baby.” You coo.

Doyoung makes a gentle noise and sucks your thumb into his mouth. You caress his cheek, his hair, roll your hips against his, and his cock feels so good inside you. His skin, sticky with sweat and cum, feels gross against yours but it’s so good, so messy, the two of you combined on his lower abdomen, and as you start to lift up off of him, the mess only grows, cum dripping out of you, smeared across his belly and thighs.

He makes another embarrassed noise and tries to hide his face in your shoulder again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about any of that stuff.” You tell him. “Praising you, fucking you, watching you beg and whine and moan. That was all so hot. I loved it.”

“Really?” He asks quietly, and his lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder.

You nod. “Mm. I like being in charge and you made it so easy for me. You’re so cute when you’re nervous and fidgety around me, but god, there’s a confidence and a damn attractive intelligence in your eyes and when you open up to me and I love it so much, Doyoung. And sometimes you look so collected and it makes me just want to make a mess of you, to get your nervous or to quite literally make a mess.”

You pull completely off his cock and you feel more of his cum leaking out of you, adding to the already present mess of cum on his softening dick. Doyoung makes a choked off sound, and you look back up to his eyes.

“How am I supposed to go back to work and pretend like I’m not thinking of you and I all the time?” Doyoung asks, his fingers brushing your cheek, the shape of your lips, his eyes never leaving the trails he draws. “When we sit down in a meeting, and all I’m thinking of is you telling me to keep quiet so every person in that room doesn’t hear you fucking me? When I see you how do I not think of you like this, straddling me while I’m covered in our cum?”

You smile and reach for Doyoung’s cheek, gently guiding his head closer so you can press a final chaste kiss against his lips. “You’ll learn, baby. We’ll both have to learn to control ourselves around each other.” You’re already imagining the things you’d like to do with him next time and the time after that. “We have plenty of time.”

Doyoung sighs tiredly and wraps his arms around you, rest his head on your shoulder. Slowly he leans back, bringing you with him as he falls back to the bed and rolls partially onto his side, and curls up against you. “I like the sound of that.”

Combing your fingers through his hair, you glance across the room at the clock. It’s late already and you both have to be up early for the first scheduled meeting. You’ll sleep here like this, wrapped together with Doyoung looking all sweet and sleepy and soft, and tomorrow morning, you’ll both put on your professional faces again and pretend for at least a few hours that tonight never happened.

a/n: based off this ask I got the other day “How about intern!doyoung nervous and fidgety around ceo!you?” This was initially meant to be much shorter and was just going to be me talking about nervous doyoung coming to your office and just cute, but then I couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to make it smutty once I started thinking about sub!doyoung since that’s not something I’ve really written before, and I’m not too sure about how well I executed that in this fic. 

As usual, if you liked it please like, reblog, and/or leave me a comment because I’m eternally grateful when y’all share my writings! 

[poisonousfey]

shelter

against my better judgement, putting a little ficlet up here set in an AU fic that I’ve attemped many times to write and have never finished, bc Certain People have expressed interest in it, so here it is, Garrosh Makes Jaina Get Up And Drink A Glass Of Water, The Fic

---

It's just going to be one of Those Days, apparently.

She probably should've known that this was coming, and she did, on some level, suspect something was amiss when she curled up in bed the night before and stared at the far wall for most of the night instead of actually sleeping. She hasn't quite pinned down what's triggered it this time; it could be any number of things. It could've been the weather, perhaps- storm clouds were moving in, with rain on the way, and she did always tend to have headaches until the first crack of thunder finally broke the sky open. It could have been the cold, leaving her toes and fingers clammy and numb. Something about the damp chill the air carries is inescapable, creeping into her bones, slowing her blood. It could be the seabreeze, bringing the cold in, the rush of the ocean in the far distance a call to something inside, half-forgotten and full of longing. She feels alien here, still, even after all this time; the desert is a far cry from the marshes of Dustwallow, and even farther from the isle she once called home. She is no more home here than she would be there, now. She feels alien in her own skin.

The sea speaks to her in rumbles and hisses, the churning waters crashing against the shore of her little port-town, against the base of her tower. Its song is relentless, pounding against the inside of her skull. It tries to call her to a home that now lies beneath its dark waters. It takes all of her will to ignore it. So much so, that she has none left to rouse herself from her bed.

Her mouth is dry. Her ribs are hollow. She stares at the far wall. She tries to sleep again. The ocean roars, and she can't manage much more than an uneasy doze, drifting into it and jolting out of it before sleep can take her, fully.

---

Pained tries to get her up, a few times. She pokes her head in around the time she knows that Jaina is usually awake, sees her under the sheets, and lets her have a few more minutes. This is a mistake.

She tries again, half an hour later when it becomes clear that Jaina is not getting up. She tries to coax her up, and Jaina hardly has any voice to respond with. This is when she begins to sense something is amiss. Jaina can hear her talk to Aegwynn in the hall just beyond her door, and she tells the old witch that she's sick and can't get up, which is close, but not quite. Aegwynn knows better.

Still, they leave her be, for a while longer.

Around mid-morning, she is exhausted from the sea's endless cries. She finally succumbs to sleep, and her slumber is black and dreamless. She is afforded this mercy, at least.

---

Jaina doesn't wake up again until a little after midday, to the sound of her bedroom door being slammed open. She jolts straight up, heart beating frantically inside a body that's still mostly numb and hollow, and turns to find an infuriated orc man, her friend and now-guardian, standing in the doorway. His stance is Loud, eye-catching, but defensive. He came here, for all the world looking like he meant to fight off her affliction as if it were Real and Living and he could rend it from her with his own two hands. She can see Aegwynn peeking around the great mass of his body, like Jaina doesn't already know who the culprit behind this is.

"Have you eaten anything at all today?" he snarls. Jaina shakes her head. Garrosh sighs and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly before tromping down the hall. Jaina turns to Aegwynn. She's doing an awfully poor job of covering up her grin.

"This is cheating," Jaina croaks, because she can somehow find her voice for this, but not anything else.

"I told him you needed help," Aegwynn says, smirking. "And here he is. Helping."

Jaina still feels half-dead and mostly drained but somehow is still managing to find the energy to want to stagger out of bed and strangle her. She unfortunately does not get that chance; Garrosh hardly gives her a moment before stomping back up the hallway and right up to her bedside. He shoves a glass of water under her nose.

"Drink," he demands, not growling, but close. She takes the glass from him and sips it, and he sits next to her on the bed, presumably to make sure she drinks the whole thing. He watches with a scrutinizing eye until she's drunk the very last drop.

"How are you feeling?" Aegwynn asks.

"Tired," Jaina says. Her voice comes easier, now, and it shows. "I didn't really sleep that well. I couldn't actually fall asleep until this morning after you and Pained checked up on me."

"You've been up all night?" Garrosh asks incredulously.

Jaina hesitates.

There is no correct way for her to answer this question. Clearly, she hasn't slept all night. He already knows. This isn't even the first time this has happened before. The only reason Garrosh is asking this is because if she says yes, he more or less takes that as permission to take full control of the situation. Taking full control means him dropping literally everything else that is going on that day, consequences be damned, and fussing over her until he deems her condition no longer critical. To be honest- the worst has already passed. She's awake, now. She's consumed something, even if it was just water. She's up and talking and is thinking about maybe eating or getting dressed soon. His brooding over her is... appreciated, but not entirely necessary, at this point. He has his duties, and she has hers. She is not so important that she feels herself worth him skipping out on his.

He continues to glower at her, and she can feel herself wavering.

"I mean," she starts. It's not a good start. "Not... all night," she continues, trailing off. That's enough for Garrosh, apparently, because he then inhales sharply and stands up from the bed in one fluid motion. He's staring out her window now, at the ocean. He Knows. He's practically vibrating with it.

"You're not staying here," he tells her. It's not a request. Jaina huffs, and starts to argue, but-

"Would you let me stay here, if the situation was reversed?" he challenges. Her mouth snaps shut with a clack of her teeth, and she huffs again.

"No," she replies moodily. Garrosh hums, satisfied.

"That's what I thought," he says, smug and preening. The tilt of his grin makes her want to knock it off his face.

---

She manages to stumble out of bed and shuffles around her room for another half-hour or so, packing while Garrosh hovered over her and her things and played with the little knickknacks scattered all throughout. He pockets a couple to fidget with, later. She keeps finding more and more of them around his rooms whenever she's there; it reminds her a little bit of hens, or maybe bower birds. Garrosh tends to covet those he considers His, and Jaina is no exception. She thinks he might be trying to coax her into his den, whether he realizes it or not, so that he can take care of her and stop her from running and hiding like an injured housecat. Jaina knows she's not an easy catch, despite herself. It's part of what makes her so tempting to tame for Garrosh, she thinks. He looks at her and sees something not unlike himself, a creature with wounds so deep that they have barely even begun to scab over, let alone fade away. She's not so sure how or when or why she's become this feral, half-wild thing, but here she is now, skittish and cagey and starving, and she will never be so quick to trust as she was in her youth ever again. Garrosh can tame her, in time, she thinks, with enough determined, stubborn doting, just as she's already tamed him, with patience and honesty and kindness. He can tame Thrall, too, probably, but Thrall is a fair more flighty than she is, and has far more opportunity. Garrosh probably need her help with that one. She'd be happy to. Someday. Maybe.

In any case, she finishes packing her things, and lets Garrosh herd her back through a portal to the Hold.

---

Garrosh takes her to his chambers- once Thrall's, now his, and the thought of that is a stinging comfort to both of them- and lets her hole up there, away from the dark tides that call to her. He doesn't ask anything of her- he doesn't make her come out, he doesn't make her get up again, and doesn't make her interact with anyone, save him and Malak. The worg's presence is a huge comfort, even if her brand of affection is a little smothering. Jaina drifts in and out of a shallow sleep for a while, Malak glued to her side, and only truly seems to wake up when Garrosh comes back to check on her. He sits with her when he can, probably more than he should, if she's remembering his schedule for today correctly. His visits are frequent, but short, and he seems to resent their brevity. He'd probably just call it quits for the day and just stay and fuss over her if he could get away with it. Jaina tries to get some work done, or at least tries to read and keep herself distracted, but she can never quite get herself to focus, and her anxiety lingers, buzzing passively the rest of the day.

Finally, supper rolls around, and Garrosh returns for the evening, dinner for the both of them in hand. She can't imagine what the cooks thought when he took it from the kitchens, or what his soldiers thought when he made his way here. She doesn't imagine Garrosh cares, even a little bit.

He puts the dinner tray in front of her wordlessly, brooking no argument. then, putting his own dinner aside, he dresses down for the evening, for comfort and rest. He doesn't typically pull late nights, not like Thrall did, but she doesn't think he'd tolerate being interrupted, right now. By the time he's gotten changed, Jaina has at least taken the first few bites of her food. This appears to satisfy him, for now. He sits next to her and eats, and she manages to finish her meal with some effort.

"You're staying here tonight," he tells her. It's not a question. She didn't think it would be. It's a relief, if anything.

He grabs a few things, documents, mostly, probably things that he was supposed to look at earlier but didn't in favor of being here with her, and then climbs into bed with her. She takes to him quickly, tucking herself into his side while he huffs a small laugh, all smug affection, and makes room for her to be there. His hand on her, her body lying against his and his warmth filling the bed, quiets the buzzing. His touch is grounding. The cries of the sea are silenced, and finally, finally, she falls asleep, and her dreams are warm and quiet.

---

Jaina wakes up to a cold, pale dawn, sun not even over the horizon yet, and she's okay. Garrosh is still there, long since asleep beside her, snoring softly. He's still got an arm wrapped around her, keeping her close even in sleep.

It's okay. They're going to be okay.

[happyteacbd-blog]

Five Reasons to Try CBD Tea and Some of the Best CBD Teas

Since the United States Farm Bill legalized hemp production in 2014, wide varieties of CBD products have percolated through the market - tinctures, teas, oils, dog food, body creams: you name it, it's been sold somewhere.

 Recently, CBD teas have popped up in cafes and online stores that offer highly bioavailable, concentrated, and refreshing blends that are available for any consumer to buy. Most buyers want to know: is this just another passing health fad? Is it effective? And why would anyone prefer tea over other CBD products?

What is CBD Tea?

CBD tea simply refers to a blend of tea and CBD oil, which is also dubbed cannabidiol. Cannabidiol is one out of over one hundred active cannabinoids that naturally occur in strains of hemp and cannabis.

Though it's often associated with marijuana, most CBD tea is neither psychoactive nor addictive because it contains none of the psychotropic compound THC. In fact, researchers have found that CBD can counteract the high effect caused by high THC substances.

Studies have shown the CBD may have very beneficial effects on users' long term mental, physical, and emotional well being with sustained use. CBD is well known as a powerful anti-inflammatory, anti-anxiety, and pain relieving supplement that's has been in use by some cultures for over a thousand years.

Five Reasons to Try CBD Tea

Before listing where to buy CBD tea, it's important to discuss how these products can configure into your current lifestyle. Luckily, the CBD tea benefits are almost too numerous to list.

CBD can boost the Health Properties of Teas

The health-sustaining properties of herbal teas have been known for decades, which is why this point should be no surprise. Green, black, and white teas are loaded full of antioxidants and nutrients that, over time, have massive benefits on the body.

Just like CBD, green teas have bioactive compounds stored in the leaves that are released through exposure to heat. Tea is rich in polyphenols, which are well known to reduce inflammation, fight cancer, and moderately reduce physical pain conditions.

Furthermore, most teas can help prevent cardiovascular disease, type II diabetes, and cognitive impairments. One study of over 40,000 Japanese adults found that those who drank tea daily were 23 percent less likely to die from stroke and heart disease during an eleven year period of time.

With that said, CBD oils mixed into tea may act to strengthen the powerful benefits of tea drinking. Research claims to have found that CBD may also reduce the risk of inflammatory pain conditions and the degenerative effects of neuropathy conditions.

The natural flavonoids, terpenes, and plant oils found in many CBD treatments could work in tandem with the restorative properties of tea to create massive health benefits for the general user.

Alleviates Headaches

Common teas like chamomile and peppermint are often used to aid in the treatment of headaches and migraines, which are typically caused by inflammation. It has also been shown that CBD may relieve headaches for a similar reason that herbal teas do. If you find you frequently suffer from cluster migraines or stress-based headaches, these CBD tea benefits could provide a great source of relief that tea alone doesn't provide.

Better Reduction of Chronic Mood and Pain Conditions

Historically, tea has been closely associated with improvements on the drinker's mood and performance, in addition to having a slight pain relieving effect. Avid tea fans are no stranger to the greater degree of relaxation, focus, and improved awareness caused by drinking different blends of tea.

CBD has also been found to combat the worst lows of mood disorders, reduce inflammation based pain conditions like arthritis, and improve user's self-reported levels of happiness. In short, CBD tea is the perfect blend of depression and pain fighting health benefits. 

Higher Bioavailability than other CBD Products

You might be thinking to yourself: what is bioavailability? To put it in simple terms, something is highly bioavailable when the proportion of the supplement that circulates through your body creates a relatively high degree of active effects. A CBD treatment that is bioavailable is more bang for your buck since a lower dose has more of an effect.

CBD tea may have a greater health impact than CBD oils on their own since they are very often formulated with water soluble CBD oils.

Most Importantly, it's Tasty!

Honestly, this is probably what most of us are worried about. Peppermint, cinnamon, green and black teas can all help to hide the grassy flavor of CBD oils on their own. Drinking CBD tea is a great way to experiment with new health-bolstering flavors that you'll actually want to drink.

No matter what you're looking for, there is a uniquely flavored blend perfected just for your tastes.

Best CBD Tea for Sale

Wondering where to buy CBD tea? Luckily, effective, reputable, and legal tea products can be bought online instantly. We've taken the time to list some of the most popular places to buy CBD tea.

Happy Tea Zen Punch

As probably the best product on the market for  CBD Tea, many consumers are turning to the Happy Tea brand  to get their daily dose of CBD tea products. Recently endorsed by Kylie Jenner and featured on Forbes.com, Happy Tea (with free shipping in  the United States and reduced rates for monthly subscriptions) provides CBD  tea for sale in a truly hassle-free way. As a shake-&-go drink it is the  tastiest and most convenient way to get your daily CBD.

One of their most popular flavors is the Zen  Punch pack, packed with 10mg CBD dose in each tea bag. The Zen Punch pack is  jam packed with triglycerides, mixed berries, and Vitamin E, helping many  users to combat stress, insomnia, and chronic pain in a tasty way. Buy CBD  Tea from their online site in order to maximize savings.

Green Roads Chamomile Tea

For those looking to improve their quality of rest, Green Roads Chamomile tea is an alternative. Green Roads has dozens of different types of CBD products. This THC-free blend comes in micro-perforated bags that make quick cups of highly effective CBD tea. Each bag has 7 mg of CBD, which may not be a high enough dose for some though perfect for others. If you choose to go with this brand it is recommended you experiment with dosing before settling on a daily regimen. The Green Roads brand frequently offers CBD tea for sale from the normal rates depending on what products are made in season.

Buddha Tea's CBD Turmeric and Ginger Tea

If you're truly turning to CBD tea for the health benefits, Buddha Tea's Turmeric and Ginger Tea claims to have great inflammation fighting health effects. Though the taste is pungent and strong, it’s definitely one way to try to combat chronic pain and digestive issues than with the combined effects of turmeric, ginger, and CBD. Buddha Tea provides what seems to be a good CBD tea for sale, offering flavors like matcha, peppermint, and cinnamon through their online site.

[sage-selfships]

Sage H. D. - Bully Self-Insert

This is my Self-Insert for Bully/Canis Canem Edit! I made the art myself and would appreciate if you didn’t use it! The Template was created by Silkvale and found here! I will post updated versions to @kitty-selfshipping so uhm yeah, follow that blog to read it when it’s totally finished or edited.

If you are interested in reading the current info about my Bully Self-Insert, please read under the cut!

Biographical Information Full Name [& Pronunciation] - Sage Holland Drage ( S AI J ) ( H AW - l uh n d ) ( d r ai j ) Meaning - Herb or Prophet, Ridgeland, Dragon Set Age - 14-15 Certified Birthdate - 12 January 1992 (not my real birth year, but shh) Astrological Sign -  Capricorn Pronouns - They/them or He/Him Aliases & Preferred Nicknames – Dumbbell - Sage might not actually like the nickname, but Mandy WIles insist on calling Sage it whenever Mandy sees Sage, so Sage is  Dragon - As some people may not be able to pronounce Sage’s surname, Sage just call themselves Dragon to make it easier for everyone. Ms. Shy - Even though Sage prefers to go by he/him or they/them pronouns, people insist on calling them ms, and many people consider them shy because of how they seem terrified of new people Puppy - A nickname Sage got from Kirby Olsen, that they claim matches their general personality Ethnicities Distant Descendants : American, British,  Dominant Descendants : Norwegian, Swedish, Danish Physical Description Hair Color - Brown Eye Color - Blue Weight – Height - Typical Clothing Wear :  Maroon or pink vest, purple skirt, blue bow, purple bow, pink shoes - School   uniform  Red stained dress and blonde wig - Halloween costume, that is supposed to resemble Carrie White from the movie Carrie Faux fur coat, faux fur ushanka - Winter attire Figure/Build - Distinguishing Features/Scars/ or Birthmarks – A mole just over their lip Explain: Tattoos: Piercings: Frequently Worn Jewelry: Choker belt around their neck Personal Information Current Living Arrangements - Sage currently lives with three of their American relatives, but also they technically live at Bullworth, in the girl’s dorm Originated from - Vestfold, Norway Traveled Territories - Hobbies -   Fears – Spiders, snakes, insects, heights, scarecrows, most of the jocks Religion/Beliefs – Atheist Why?: Sage grew up in an atheist family, as simple as that. Health Behaviors Physical Ailments/ Disabilities/ Issues – Addiction(s) [Sex, Drugs, Smoking, Alcohol, Other]  Why?: Any regular medication taken? – Medication for their Iron Deficiency and for their Hives Chronological Information Profession - Student Likes - Dislikes - Goals/Ambitions – Most Instructive/Painful/Memorable Experience - Story behind experience: Weapons/Equipment - Sage mostly fights using their hands but can use a baseball if they need to Personal Attributes Personality - Strengths - Weaknesses - Good Habits - Bad Habits - Fetishes/Strange Behaviors - Stereotype - Shy kid with few friends As you know them better(and you like them) : As you know them better(and you hate them) :   Ratings on Personal Qualities (don't go overboard make reasonable stats for your character) Physical Strength : 4/10 Sage might not regularly train, but surprisingly Sage is stronger than they seem Attractive : 5/10 Sage doesn’t consider themselves the most beautiful and mostly blames it upon their parents and grandparents for how they look Honesty : 7/10 Sage hates lying in general, but still does lie if they need to. Rule Abiding : 3/10 Sage thinks certain rules are to be broken and others are to be broken. Sociability : 3/10 Sage is quite shy when it comes to meeting new people, but if they muster up enough confidence they can make new friends. Bullworth Academy Information Reason for enrolling: Sage has lacked disiplince and Sage’s parents had relatives that lived close Bullworth, so they decided on sending them to a Clique - Standing and Rank in Social Circle  - Room Number – 4 Roommate(s)-  Zoe Taylor & Beatrice Trudeau Favourite Subject(s) – English,  & Art Why?: Sage loves English because they’ve felt so motivated and  Least Favorite Subject(s) – Why?: Favourite Teacher – Mr. Galloway & Mrs. Philips Why?: Mr. Galloway - Sage takes a liking to Mr. Galloway, mostly because he encouraged and gave Sage a warm welcome to the school, during Sage’s first day at Bullworth Mrs. Philips - Sage got a few compliments Least Favorite Teacher –  Mr. Slawter Why?: Sage is quite afraid of Mr. Slawter, mostly because he yelled at Sage during their first class Knowledgeability Language(s) – Norwegian, English Schooling Level - Grade 8-9, Expertise – Chemistry - Math - English - Geography - Sage knows a few things, like where certain European countries are, but after that, nothing more Politics/Law - Economy - Cooking/Culinary - Shop - Botany/Biology - Mythology - high / Sage knows a lot about Norrøn Mythology and enjoys learning more and more about it Art - high / Sage highly enjoys Art and feels that they know a lot about the rules about realism and perspective Photography - Sage knows how to use a camera, and what settings look good or not, so they consider themselves at a 5/10 Reading Level - Overall Intelligence Level(s) - Interpersonal and Naturalistic. Relationships Statuses   (once you list characters here, delete them from the other list near the end of this information sheet, makes things less confusing) (Also, please describe the relationships of your character with other characters) Trusted Companions Closest Friend(s) –   Milliz - “I trust her with my life. Nothing more or less to say. And might I add that her and Earnest are really freakiNG ADOREABLE?” (Jeg beklager ikke for at du er satt på denne lista, Milliz) Friend(s) -   Kirby Olsen - Despite Kirby being a jock and Sage being afraid of most of the jocks, Kirby and Sage are pretty close and    

Hated Rivals Worst Enemies – Intolerable Students - Harmless Acquaintances Tolerated Students - Tolerated Townsfolk - Hot Encounters Hinted Attractions - Crush(es) - Lover(s) - Gary Smith, Jimmy Hopkins and Petey (Ey, don’t judge me please or make comments about this please, I just ship myself with all of them :( I will also make like another post or tweet where I just describe everything from lore to headcanons about this ) Ex(s) - None Extra Information Eating Habits Omnivore/Carnivore/Herbivore – Favorite Food(s): Favorite Drink(s): Disliked Food(s): Disliked Drink(s): Added Information Proclaimed Theme Song(s) - Either Dancing Queen by ABBA or Scent – Favourite Color: Favourite Season: Favourite Animal: Sage  Favourite Music Genre: Sage can’t really choose, but they are very fond of country and Pop Most Memorable Quote – Various Quotes Through Interaction :  “ Walking around – “I sure hope Mandy was joking when he called me a dumbbell...” “I don’t know jack dritt about math, how am I supposed to get a good grade?” “Gary mentioned something about rats, wondered what he was on about.” “I’m considering joining a clique... but which one?” “ “ “ “ When the fire alarm goes off – “Stuff like this always happens when you least expect it.” “Sure hope this isn’t a drill, I don’t want my slippers to get wet again without reason.” Greetings Good Terms: “Hiya!” “Hey there, best friend!” “How ya doing, sweetie?” “How are you doing, buddy?” “Hey, anyhting fun happen recently?” “Bro! What’s up?” “Heisann!” (Norwegian for ‘Hey there’) Bad Terms: “Please leave me alone” “I rather not talk.” “Ew.” “Get out of my face!” “Leave me alone!” “Continue being around me and I’ll beat you up! Or cry!” Saying goodbye – Good Terms: “Have a good day! “See you later!” “Hope you have a good night!” Bad Terms: “”See you in Hell, I uhm mean class.” “Leave already.” “I’m getting a headache, gotta go.” “Byyeee, see you never.” When Flirted With – Good Terms: “I uhm...” “Thank you....” “Well I uhm, thank you so much! I uhm haha, we should hang out or something!” “I feel flattered. I’ll uhh have to go over there until the blushing stops.” “Continue acting this sweet and you’re going to be getting ladies really quickly.” “ “You’re such a sweetheart!” “If I were of age, I would marry you right here on the spot, but I’m still too young.” Bad Terms: “I wouldn’t say I don’t like you, but I’m not that interested.” “Not to be rude, but no.” “That better not be trying to make me blush, because it didn’t work at all.” “ “

Watching a fight – “I know I shouldn’t watch this crap, but damn it feels so right, right now!” “ Attacking – “I’m sorry!” “I have no choice in this situation, so I apologize beforehand!” “I learnt this one from my friend!” While Fighting – “I really wish it didn’t have to end with one of us being hurt!” “Ouch! Thanks, I guess!”

Chasing someone – “You can run, but you can also hide!” “Come back here! please...!” Out of breath – “This always happens....” “Why do I have to have iron deficiency? When hidden from – “ Knocked out – “ Stinkbomb explodes – “I can’t see shit!” “I should be happy I can’t smell anything from before!” Opinions on students who reside at Bullworth Academy– (in alphabetical order) Bullies   Davis White: Ethan Robinson: Russell Northrop: Tom Gurney: Trent Northwick: Troy Miller: Wade Martin: Zoe Taylor: Greasers Hal Esposito: Johnny Vincent: Lefty Mancini: Lola Lombardi: Lucky De Luca: Norton Williams: Peanut Romano: Ricky Pucino: Vance Medici: Jocks Bo Jackson: Casey Harris: Damon West: Dan Wilson: Juri Karamazov: Luis Luna: Mandy Wiles: Ted Thompson: Nerds Algernon Papadopoulos: Beatrice Trudeau: Bucky Pasteur: Cornelius Johnson: Donald Anderson: Earnest Jones: Fatty Johnson: Melvin O'Connor: Thad Carlson: Non-Cliques Angie Ng: Christy Martin: Constantinos Brakus: Eunice Pound: Gloria Jackson: Gordon Wakefield: Ivan Alexander: Karen Johnson: Lance Jackson: Melody Adams: Pedro De La Hoya: Ray Hughes: Sheldon Thompson: Trevor Moore: Preppies Bif Taylor: Bryce Montrose: Chad Morris: Derby Harrington: Gord Vendome: Justin Vandervelde: Parker Ogilvie: Pinky Gauthier: Tad Spencer: Opinion on Adults who teach and patrol at Bullworth Academy – (in alphabetical order) Miss Danvers: Miss Peters: Mr. Galloway: Mr. Luntz: Mr. Matthews: Mr. Wiggins: Mrs. Carvin: Mrs. MacRae: Mrs Peabody: Ms. Phillips: Neil: Prefects – Edward Seymour II: Karl Branting: Max MacTavish: Seth Kolbe: Opinions on People in the cities of Bullworth – (in alphabetical order) Townies Clint(aka Henry): Sage doesn’t like saying it, but they’re quite afraid of him and  Duncan: Edgar Munsen: Gurney: Jerry: Leon: Omar Romero: Otto Tyler: Residents in the city of Bullworth – Bethany Jones: Denny: Dr. Bambillo: Krakauer: Mihailovich: Miss Abby: Mr. Brekindale: Mr. Buckingham: Mr. Castillo: Mr. Doolin: Mr. Huntingdon: Mr. Johnson: Mr. Martin: Mr. Ramirez: Mr. Salvatore: Mr. Smith: Mr. Sullivan: Ms. Rushinski Mrs. Lisburn: Osborne:

[peachyjie]

Metal Lace || Cai Xu Kun

—Author Note :

Requested by the lovely and my dearest friend @mydearestkunkun , and yes I kinda got out of hand. Enjoy 💕

—Wc : 3.1K+

—Pairing : Gryff!Cai Xu Kun - Raven!Reader

—Genre : Hogwarts!AU + slight!angst + fluff

—Summary : When a missing metal lace bracelet became the wingman on the domino effect for him to get to your heart.

The night sky darkens as each minute ticks away. The moon began appeal itself more as the night grows darker, decorating the night skies as it was accompanied by the constellations. The dim shine of the moon is enough to light up the semi-dark hallway, the night breeze gave out a cool vibe that’s much contrast to the scorching hot sunlight. Out in the first floor in Hogwarts Castle’s corridor laid a simple wooden door, not many students are presence there after study hours. We could all understand why, basically no one needs to torture more brain cells with lectures and the intimate stares from thousands of books.

But simply not everyone hates the presence of the Hogwarts Library. Well, more likely those who didn’t mind burying their nose on the raw scent of papers, murdering their eyes with blabbering words that would surely bring out headaches, or getting endless paper cuts by extreme master level flipping skills. And believe it or not, you’re all of the statements above.

Being a sixth year in Hogwarts means frequent extra time off, random holes of subjects that you can customized yourself for your own pleasure. Especially since the stress of OWL was over, people doesn’t even care right now. Even if it’s time for the advance NEWT-level classes, most would rather stress it out next year. But you? Hah. Passing the OWL test in your fifth year brought you great joy, especially you’re the one with the highest score in the whole year. Hence making you the prized star of your own house.

But that didn’t stop you from taking extra courses, from usual courses to private ones with the professors. You were preparing for your final year aka the devil NEWT itself, meaning stressing yourself out in your sixth year with loads of works and un-ending preparations for the everyday tests or quizzes. You could even proudly say the professors who’ve dealt with you since your first year have slight more fondness with you than the other students existence. Even Snape didn’t snarl at you when you greeted him, surprisingly he greeted you back. With a slight cold tone, just a slight.

Your soles tapped lightly on the empty hallway as you made your way once again to the library itself. Your body is hugged by the existence of your robe. The color of blue and bronze that lined every details on it, an Eagle rested on your left chest. Hands full with books and papers to jot down notes, from Charms to Transfigurations, but also from Herbology to Potions. Everything is neatly piled on top of one another.

When you arrived, trying your best to open the door itself. You find the existence to too many books slightly annoying, but it didn’t last long. The door swung open, a figure holding it from the other side. “Spiffy on time at 6 o’clock again”, Madam Irma said with a smile on her face. “Good evening, Madam”, you replied back and soon stumbled to get in. “Oh dear, be careful my dear. You don’t want to hurt yourself nor the book themselves now, do we?”, you laughed at her statement. You walked down to your usual table and soon began to flip each pages, boring every intensity as you finds interesting points to be remembered.

*****

It took you approximately an hour for your mind to snap out of your own bubble of knowledge, especially when the person beside you decided it was a great idea to slam their books down on the wooden table. Sure the library is empty with its knowledge glory from the presence of the students, professors, ghosts, house elves, anything. But you didn’t appreciate how easily this person was so egocentric enough to even neglect the fact someone else is also using this room itself.

This person by mean, is none other than Cai Xu Kun. “Is that Herbology?”, you perked up from your notes as you tried to draw the basic features of the famous Venomous Tentacula. “Uhh... yes?”, you said in more of a question than a statement.

“I thought only sixth year took those”, you stared at him. Eyes boring into his, judging him in every aspects. “I am a sixth year”, you snapped at him. He stared you in surprise, before he became flustered. “Sorry”, he mumbled.

You decided it was best to ignore him, and continued on your journey to deathly plants land. But he wasn’t having it.

“So you took Professor Sprout’s class I assume”, he said. “Yes, regular and private ones also”, you replied back. Curt and short, you could hear him whispers “Private also? Bloody hell” making you etched a small smile but soon hid it.

Cai Xu Kun, sixty year Gryffindor. Everyone knows him, everyone adored him. He’s like those typical muggle highschool boys, good-looking and very good at sports. But very lacking on terms of passing grades. You wouldn’t say he’s that idiotic, he passed other subjects perfectly. Aside of Herbology and Transfigurations. You should see how he tried to turn a cat into a glass but ended up giving his friend, Justin donkey ears for a month. It was hilarious.

But that’s him. If you go more in depth, he’s basically Hogwarts star. Representative of the Triwizard Tournament, and actually winning it. But also his house’s prized seeker, ultimately taking the Quidditch trophy back to his house but also breaking the 3 years row to row champion of the Slytherin. You would always see him walked down the hallway with such a strong aura of pride, his head held up high laughing with his group of friends.

“I didn’t know you took classes with Professor Sprout”, he snapped you out once again from your endless writings.

You turned and stare at him, smiling. “We basically share the same amount of classes together”, this made him gape. You took time to enjoy his reaction, finding it way amusing for your once already tired mind. His white-silver hair made a big contrast on his scarlet-golden robe, the lion on his chest made him looked like a lost kitten.

When he snapped back out of his trance, he was back to square one. He looked at your endless scribbling, words one by one decorating the pages. “Are you seeing someone right now?”, you almost wrote out of line hearing his words that were blurted out from his mouth. “E-excuse me?”, you stuttered out.

Oh wow, how much more would you want to slap him so bad. You don’t even care if it cost you some of your house point. His smirk, was mocking and looking down at you. And you wished you had your wand right now, hexing him or give him a large tooth or something.

“Guess that’s a no”, he said in a sing sang tune. You furrowed both of your eyebrows, eyes boring into him more. “What does that supposed to mean?”, he stared at you smiling. Humming, he etched closer to you making you jerk away from him a little.

“Let me tell you this”, he leaned getting nearer to you. “Go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend”.

Your eyes twitched, and you swore you never felt them twitch this hard before. “Enlighten me”, he perks up at your statement. “Why should I go with someone who I barely know?”

He chuckled. “I mean, speaking very frankly. You’re a Ravenclaw”, he said as he pointed at your blue robe you’ve always wear. “And all you do is this”, he pointed out the large scale of papers and books that are scattered on the wooden table itself.

“Probably you’ve never had a love life your whole Hogwarts life”, you stare at him agape, hands tightening its grip on your quill. You stood up, your force was almost enough to stumble the chairs as it hits one of the shelves. You calmly gathered all your papers and books, trying your best to put all of them on the respective books of courses you’re having. Xukun only stared at you, shocked register his system.

You took everything with you and dashes out from the library. “Out so soon dear?”, Madam Irma said as she perked up from her book she was reading. “Brain’s fried. Thank you, Madam”, you smiled sadly at her and continued your walk.

It wasn’t until you were near the corridor to your Common Room you heard his voice again. You fasten your pace, but he was faster. He yanked your shoulder, causing a force big enough for you to be dragged back and turned to look at him once again.

“Bloody, you run fast”, Xukun said huffing. You stared at the male blankly, eyes so morbid you wished you could spit venom on him. “What do you want, Cai?”, he winced at your venomous tone. He sighed.

“I didn’t mean to offend you”, he quickly blurted out. You continued to bore your gaze on him, either thinking if he is dumb or plain dumb. “Your existence already offended me enough, Cai Xu Kun”. Well ouch, Xukun retreated back from you. He swore he never felt such mock that could even slash his pride in him.

“I was helping you out!”, he said in frustration. “You probably lived your whole life in Hogwarts dreaded being alone, without any dating life. So I was helping you out”, you swore to the pureblood you thought things couldn’t get worse. But this male who’s the star of your year, he made you things in your wizarding life is already hell.

“Just accept my offer”, he said. And you’ve regretted enough for leaving your wand on your nightstand. You wished you could burn his face off or hex him burping glitter for a whole year if you can. But you did the thing that’s close to giving him pain. You shoved your books at him, the impact of largely thick books and papers was enough pressure to send him tumbling down. He stared at you with a scoff, but stopped seeing how cold your gaze went on him.

“If you think offering yourself to me just for the sake of completing a bucket list of mine, you shouldn’t.”, you snarled as you took one of your book that sprawled beside him. “You’re not pitying me, Cai. You’re making yourself looked pitiful, desperate and it’s not a pretty sight”

“Do not think you can get all things to yourself just by your status”, you stared at him. He was gawking at you, clearly you could feel him intimidated also. You scoffed at him.

“Go rot in Azkaban, Cai Xu Kun”, turning your way you continued to walk to the Ravenclaw common room and disappeared on the cold silent night.

Xukun honorably speechless still sat rooted on his spot. He stared at your figure slowly disappearing, not even glancing to his side to make sure if he is okay or not. He could only stare, sitting on the cold floor. His hand grasp on a rounded object, a metal linen bracelet. The color of gold shines when in contact with the moonlight. The clasp was open, probably also the reason why such thing would stay lying helplessly waiting for the owner.

“It’s her’s”, Xukun jumped by the sudden voice. Ziyi stared at the latter from the common room’s door, in all his glory. Or well, a trip to be a responsible prefect. He walked down to Xukun’s side and help him got up, patting him on the shoulder.

“This time, you bloody lost your chance”, and Xukun groaned by his friend’s statement.

*****

“Stop staring at your hand”, Zhengting scolded. You haven’t touched your food yet, too preoccupied by the sudden emptiness on your right hand. You felt naked almost. “I can’t believe I lost my mother’s gift”, you sighed before picking up your toasted toast. Nibbling a bite of it, you sulked at Zhengting. The male pat your head, hoping to comfort his fellow Ravenclaw smartie.

Finishing breakfast was a jiff for you and Zhengting, so walking down on the hallway on to Herbology gave both of you enough time to walk in a snail pace. When you opened the glass door, you choked. In there sat the obnoxious egocentric shameless male, Cai Xu Kun. And in his hand was your metal lace bracelet that your mother passed down to you.

Xukun perks up by the sudden presence and smiled when he saw you. He waved at you but simply stared at him with the same cold eyes like yesterday’s. You went to prepare for class remembering Professor Sprout’s request earlier.

Then everything was back to silence. Zhengting and you were too busy being the usual Ravenclaw both of you are, preparing the most for class even before it start. So basically, Xukun could feel the awkward cold air lingering around him despite of the sunlight that’s piercing through the glass.

“Y/N, have we fed the Venomous Tentacula yet?”, Zhengting asked from the other side. You turned around, staring at him in wonder wrecking your brain out. “I think not?”, you said before going to the plant itself. You could particularly hear their hissing, you scoffed.

“They’re hungry”, you stated. “Can I help?”, you jumped by the sudden presence beside you. You stared blankly at Xukun, then the stare became cautious as if you’re ready to fight him. “I just want to help”, he said softly.

You were about to properly declined him, but horror grasp your face in a mere second. “Watch out-“

As the vines from the Tentacula grasp on Xukun’s hand, trying to take him as a prey itself. Xukun hissed in pain. He tried to swat it away, but you grasp his hand from doing so. You took out your want in a hurry, pointing at the vines. “Diffindo”, you flick your wand. The green light burst out giving enough reflect on the glass panes, grabbing attentions of those who are near it.

You stared at Professor Sprout who was frozen on her feet. “W-what in the world-“

“I am truly sorry, Professor”, you said in a hurry. You stared at the severed vines of the poisonous plant on the ground, laid motionless. “Professor, excuse us. Xukun here got tangled by the vines. I’ll have him check in the hospital wing if you may”, with a nod you didn’t hesitate to drag the while haired male out.

*****

Xukun’s hissing didn’t stop after the incident, he was whining every so. You could still feel the way those vines grips on his hand, but that’s not what you were afraid of. The spikes, pointy as it is, one struck and the venoms are out. You checked his hand, just some burning red mark on it. You iced it down before treating his arm.

Xukun hissed again. The amount of hissing he produced was enough to send you to the edge, you did what you’re gifted in. You silenced him with a spell.

“You’re such an idiot”, you said to him as you tied a bandage around his wounds. “Hogwarts’s star, but really idiotic”, you continued. When you were finished, you stared at Xukun. You will think he got some venom in his brain system because he was completely smiling at you, you swore he wasn’t even blinking.

“Speak up”, you said, crossing your arms. He stared at you unamuse, that stare that was as if he was judging you. “Oh yea, sorry”, you waved your wand once again.

None was spoken out. “If you’re not going to say anything, then I will excuse myself for Herbology”, you said standing up as you straightening your robe. It didn’t take too much reflex for Xukun to suddenly snap out of his trance of scrabbles. He grabs your hand, stopping you from doing anything further on.

“I’m sorry”, is the first thing he said. Which caught you in more surprise, actually. “Look, I didn’t mean to make you feel less than your actual worth”, he mumbled on. Xukun was never glad to have no one in the Hospital Wing right now. How would anyone react to a stuttering well known seeker.

“That doesn’t let go of the fact you’re obnoxious off the hook”, you said back to him. He stared at you, relief washes him knowing you’re slightly opening but sighing knowing he did bloody ruined his chance. “You think you could go off asking random people to go on a night out just for experience, it means nothing to you”

“If that someone is you, that experience means a lot to me”, he blurted out. Xukun was so flustered he didn’t even see you turned your head to stare at him in shock. He hid his face on the palm of his hand, groaning. “See, look what you did”, he mumbled on.

“I’m a bloody mess with you, and I hope you noticed now”, he sighed. He was rambling on and on, he didn’t even catch the smile on your face. “I tried to appear cool to you, but instead the play backlash at me and oh wow I really blew my chance away”, he ruffled his hair, a habit whenever he’s stressed or confused.

“In other meaning, you like me?”, you pestered him. Red, the Cai Xu Kun is flustered enough and you’re not making it better. “Yes”, he mumbled. “I like you, so so much.”

You giggled at his cute act, in your life you’ve never been so intrigued by anyone before. But here we are, in the empty hospital wing. Just you and Xukun, and he’s blabbering his confession to you.

You took the metal lace bracelet and clasp it on his hand, he stared at you in confusion. It was a cute sight of him, how his pupils shakes with your every movement. “Keep it on until your wound heals”, was the only thing you said.

You walked to the door, opening it. Xukun legit thought he ruined it, he blew off a chance with his own crush. He sighed, and slumped down on the bed ready to be buried out of reality itself.

It wasn’t until your head comes popping out from the door, cheerfully staring at the male. “Remember to give that bracelet back to me, then we can settle on for that date” and the door closes.

The silence was enough to give Xukun time to drift off into slumber, but his mind was wrecking too much energy. He jerks up sitting on the bed, realizing what happened.

“I scored the date?”, he asked himself. Soon his lips was tugged up into a smile, the small smile expanded into a bigger one. “I scored the date!”, and his hand punched the air.

Before he regretted on the fresh wound he just received, but none of that matter anyways.

[berniesrevolution]

With their huge improvements in special elections across the country, it looks increasingly probable that Democrats will win big in the 2018 midterms, and perhaps take control of both Congress and the presidency in 2020. That raises a logical question: In an ideal world, what should they do?

American society is in dire straits, and things will likely be even worse by the time a Democrat takes office. They will have a brief window to fix multiple screaming policy emergencies, and reform American political institutions to prevent a resurgence of the diseased Republican Party.

Below, I will outline a draft platform that would both accomplish worthy goals and provide political benefits. Since the conventional wisdom on political feasibility and popularity has proved to be highly unreliable of late (see: President Donald J. Trump), I have focused on things that will provide immediate and concrete partisan benefits, while strengthening democratic liberties. The ideas are grouped under three headings: political reform, domestic policy, and foreign policy. Let's get cracking.

Political reform:

Now, Democrats should not cheat like Republicans do. It would be wrong to do a reverse Kris Kobach, and suppress the votes of old white people by making Fox News watchers present 14 different forms of photo ID before they can vote. However, there is nothing wrong with strengthening America's democratic institutions — making it simpler and easier for allAmericans to vote and obtain political representation — in part because it would provide a partisan benefit. To wit:

1. Make Puerto Rico and Washington, D.C., states. 

This step would both address the greatest structural violation of democratic liberties in American society and provide the largest tangible partisan benefit to Democrats. D.C. residents and Puerto Ricans are quite literally oppressed colonial subjects, taxed without representation.

In D.C.'s case that creates frequent dysfunction and annoyance, but in Puerto Rico's case it is a full-blown emergency. It is obvious that the Republican government's ongoing failure to rebuild the island after it was flattened by Hurricane Maria (much less address its ongoing debt crisis) has a great deal to do with the fact that they have no congressional representation. Instead of futilely appealing to Paul Ryan's nonexistent conscience, actual Puerto Rican senators and representatives could vote, grab the ear of national media, trade favors, argue with other national politicians, and credibly threaten to gum up the wheels of Congress if their state was not fixed. (In other words, they would have power.)

2. Abolish the filibuster. 

Many big and controversial bills will need to be passed very quickly. Democrats cannot afford the swing vote in the Senate to be some quisling Blue Dog in the pocket of Wall Street, as Joe "The ObamaCare Hamstringer" Lieberman was in 2009-10. This should be done at the earliest possible moment.

3. Resurrect and strengthen the Voting Rights Act. 

Republican vote suppression and district boundary cheating has become their ace in the political hole, hugely enabled by Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts' decision gutting the Voting Rights Act. Roberts' decision struck down the preclearance portion of the VRA — which forbade certain jurisdictions from making any changes to their voting procedure without first getting federal certification that they would not disenfranchise minorities — on the grounds that Jim Crow was a long time ago and so it was an unfair burden. That obstacle removed, Republicans immediately set about disenfranchising as many minorities as possible.

Roberts' "reasoning" was obviously 100 percent partisan pretext. But one solution that fits with his logic is to extend preclearance to the entire country. In keeping with Article Four, Section Four, an inalienable right to vote for all citizens and legal residents should be established, including for ex-cons and current prisoners, and all jurisdictions should be required to submit a plan to the federal government ensuring easy and universal access to the franchise. (This can be made easier by establishing a federal template for all levels of government, which would include universal mail-in voting, if people would rather not bother.) Any changes will have to be pre-cleared. Election Day itself should also be moved to a Friday and made a national holiday.

Incidentally, this will have the salutary effect of sharply improving the voting rights in many blue states like New York, where the corrupt Democratic regime is none too eager to have millions of poor people casting ballots.

Finally, as part of the voting rights package, both national and state-level district boundaries should be taken out of the hands of partisan legislatures, and put under control of nonpartisan committees required to draw maps which produce a legislature whose partisan composition at least approximates the raw vote totals.

All this aligns high moral principle with grubby partisan motives. It would mean probably four more Democratic senators and several representatives, and sharply improve Democratic prospects in several states with preposterously unfair gerrymandering or where a huge proportion of minorities have been permanently disenfranchised. However, that is no reason to get squeamish about it. On the contrary, the likeliest way that D.C. residents and Puerto Ricans are going to get their freedom, and the effectively tyrannical aspects of many American political institutions are going to be expunged, is if it can be successfully clubbed into the heads of the Democratic leadership that it is in their partisan interest to do so.

Domestic policy:

1. Climate change. 

This is one area where politics absolutely must take a back seat to principle. If Democrats believe what they're saying about climate science, and they accumulate some political capital with the above program, this is where it must be spent first. As I've argued before, this is by far the most important problem facing American society, because it is a serious emergency that will require a top-to-bottom overhaul of society. Trump's climate denier presidency almost could not have come at a worse time. The next administration will have to cut emissions as fast as it possibly can, both to slow climate change and to avoid the risk of tripping feedback loops that could push warming into an uncontrollable self-sustaining spiral.

People can and do argue all day about precisely the best way forward on climate, but one simple way of thinking about it is to take what China is doing with decarbonization, energy efficiency, and renewables, and aim to beat them by 50 percent. That both gets in the right ballpark of what needs to happen (China's climate policy is extremely aggressive, though still not good enough), and indicates the international nature of the issue. Such a "competition" — in reality, a mutually-beneficial international coordination — would be both excellent policy and a worthy national project. If we're lucky, it might even inspire China to up their game even more as well.

2. Health-care reform. 

This has been the main policy axis of mobilization for lefties during the Trump presidency, and it's not hard to see why. The ObamaCare policy approach has proved to be a massive headache with multiple pitfalls and unforeseen consequences. Its political bargain — that a more conservative, free-market road to universal coverage would be more politically stable — turned out to be wrong. Though Republicans have not managed to repeal the law outright, it is suffering major damagewith the repeal of the individual mandate and regulatory attacks. Tellingly, the market-oriented part of the law — the individual exchanges — are doing the worst.

Democrats should aim for something like an upgraded Medicare-for-all system, with complete medical coverage and no cost-sharing. It both makes the best policy sense and has steadily increased in popularity. What precisely that should look like is not to be hashed out now — the Sanders and Ellison bills and the "Medicare Extra" plan from the Center for American Progress are reasonable — but the best direction to head is obvious: away from markets, and towards traditional social insurance.

Doing so would both address an ongoing humanitarian crisis and deliver a major win to Democratic base voters who have been advocating for this for generations. Moreover, after the dust settles most people would be immensely relieved by being permanently placed on a high-quality Medicare-type system. Democrats should have the confidence to ignore the lobbyists and simply ram through as good a bill as possible.

3. Family policy. 

The structure of American society is deeply hostile to parents even very far up into the upper class. Paid family and sick leave, a child allowance, universal pre-K, and some kind of universal daycare would go a great deal towards ensuring parents don't have a near-impossible struggle between raising their children and being forced to go back to work. This would further advance the U.S. welfare state and deliver meaningful goods to an important Democratic voting bloc: young people.

And while one can't say for sure what people would think about this, the fact that the United States is literally one of two countries in the world (the other being Papua New Guinea) without paid family leave shows you how much of an outlier we are on this. Like Medicare for all, once they figured out how great it is, people would love a family benefits package.

4. Sharp tax increases on the rich and corporations. 

It's not immediately obvious that this would be a win in terms of public opinion, though polls do consistently find a large majority of people saying the rich pay too little in taxes. But it would help pay for Democratic priorities, and may well end up strengthening growth by diverting money away from shareholders and executives, and towards workers and investment. And in tangible political terms, it would definitely take money out of the pockets of the ultra-wealthy, who spend ungodly sums subsidizing right-wing propaganda and dirty tricks operations.

5. Labor law reform. 

Again public opinion is muddled on this one, since unions barely exist throughout much of the country. But passing a pro-union legal package — by, for example, banning so-called "right-to-work" laws at the national level, passing card check, or, most aggressively, mandating what's called sectoral bargaining to unionize whole swathes of the economy at a stroke — would benefit workers and raise wages.

It would also directly benefit Democrats, as newly-revitalized unions saw their power, money, and influence grow by leaps and bounds. They would surely direct their votes and campaign donations to the party that secured those benefits, as they did in FDR's time.

6. Antitrust and other corporate regulation. 

Concentration is a grave problem in the American economy, where a handful of businesses have rolled up control over everything from computer chips to chicken. Breaking up these business will both provide more options for consumers, push economic activity into places other than a handful of very large cities, and help workers, who face labor market monopsony and hence lower wages. That could assist the genuinely left-behind Americans in rural areas and smaller towns Trump championed in his campaign but utterly failed to help as president.

Wall Street should come under special attention. The biggest banks should be broken up, and heavy new regulations, deliberately designed to keep financial businesses small and less profitable, should be levied. In contrast to Dodd-Frank, these should be simple and difficult to avoid, not complicated and take years to implement. This would benefit not just the actually productive parts of the economy, from which much financial profit is parasitically extracted, but also sharply reduce the risk of another global financial crisis.

Politically, antitrust and financial regulation would knock out one prop of reactionary politics. As we've seen in President Trump's Cabinet, Wall Street has been eager and willing to help along a truly vile president, so long as it get its tax cuts. Cutting finance's share of GDP by half would considerably reduce the amount they could dedicate to electing the next future conservative lunatic.

Meanwhile, vigorous antitrust in the media space, coupled to regulation of platforms like Facebook and YouTube, will also help break the influence of deep-pocketed right-wing propaganda. Restrictions on the number of TV or radio stations any one entity can own will further prevent reactionary businessmen pushing pro-Trump propaganda throughout the nation. It would not completely disable the grifting machine that is eating the Republican Party alive, but it would help quite a bit.

Foreign policy:

1. Defense spending cuts. 

The easiest step to take on foreign policy is to cut the bloat and waste in military spending. Back in 2016, The Washington Post reported that a study commissioned by the Pentagon itself had found $25 billion per year in pure administrative waste at the Defense Department, which it then suppressed due to fear of budget cuts. Even if that's overstated, there is still the psychotically expensive and dubiously necessary B-21 heavy bomber, the even more expensive and already outdated F-35 fighter jet, the $1 trillion-plus earmarked for new nuclear weapons and upgrades of the existing stockpile, and much more burning through government cash for little or no benefit. Every big-ticket defense project needs to be examined with acidic skepticism, to see what might be scaled back or canceled outright.

2. Imperial rollback. 

Further savings can be found by ending the hundreds of pointless overseas operations throughout the world. U.S. troops should be removed from Germany, Japan, Afghanistan, Iraq, and several other countries, Special Forces deployments largely ended, and the enabling of the Saudi war in Yemen should cease immediately. The drunken colonialism of the so-called War on Terror must end.

All this would free up immense resources for Democrats' other policy priorities. Just the $80 billion military spending increase passed in 2017 would more than pay for free tuition at every public college across the country. Returning to a pre-Iraq War spending level (if anything, a modest ask) would free up another roughly $200 billion per year.

And far from harming national security, it would probably help. At a minimum, it would remove U.S. troops from several places where they are inflaming violent anti-American extremism. And forcing the Pentagon to economize might actually get them to focus on genuine needs rather than expensive, useless toys.

(Continue Reading)

An incomplete blueprint for a progressive landslide.

[6stronghands]

Got these at a gas station in a bitty little Kansas town. It’s like they figured out how to transform garlic knots into pretzels. With a little tang, a little spice or mustard or something. So good.

They also had honest to god sour pickles (!!!!) and this thing called a cheese sammich, which was just nice sausage sliced thin in layers of nice cheese. Just meat and cheese packaged in a sandwich shape, sealed in plastic. And, like the pickles and pretzels, it was freakin terrific.

I know I said once that the perfect interstate road trip food was Dr Pepper and a 5 pound bag of chocolate cinnamon bears from Costco, but I’m mostly off sugar now so that’s a no-go, and this stuff is so good that it’s my new holy grail snack food. I haven’t really found any non-sugary thing that I’ve much liked til now, so I’m pretty happy with this discovery.

(I really, truly feel better, look better, have less pain, less lupus / thyroid puffiness, more stable moods and energy off sugar. I even went down 2 sizes, not changing my diet or exercise at all, just cutting out desserts and treats. Which SUUUUCKS because I didn’t think it would make that big a difference. For 10 years, I tried paleo, Zone, no carb, keto, vegetarian, vegan, dairy free…all of it, all for a decent amount of time, and none of it made a huge difference in my health. But the thing I love most in all the world, THAT’S the goddamm thing I have to give up, that’s what really works for me and my specific stupid body. Utterly unfair.

It took about a YEAR to stop the sugar cravings, headaches, shakes, etc. They said a month or two. Nope. No. At least a year, probably longer. And I still want it emotionally. I literally dream about candy sometimes. Which I shouldn’t share because that’s pitiful and I’m not three, but I do. I even had a dream that I was making hamburgers for my kids and I got big chocolate bars and melted them on top of the patties instead of cheese. Awful. I dream that I’m cooking desserts, or I’m buying candy at the store. Dreaming about my drug of choice, like an addict. Almost 2 years sugar-free, or at least sugar-bomb free, and I still do this. [Don’t @me about processed foods that add sugar, or about carbs. For real. Dont. I’m working on my own little junky self, on my personal specific little junky thing. Right now, this is working. For me. Maybe I’ll adjust later, maybe not. I’m not telling anyone to diet, or cut out dessert. Have a bite on my behalf, like, “This one’s for the wretched bitch SixStrongHands, too bad for her dumbass,” the the next time you eat something wonderful. Like sincerely, enjoy yourself, I’m happy for you. Life is frequently rotten, and chocolate, cake, pie, and even drugstore candies are some of the reliably great things. I don’t mean to act like an alcoholic at a wine tasting. And I know about glucose levels and simple and complex sugars and carbs; I have a tiny nephew with brittle Type 1 diabetes. He almost dies about every six months, even with his goddamm pump and the best mother/caretaker/doctor triefecta I’ve ever witnessed.

Personal health can be tricky. I have no food, or even life advice other than to listen to your body, and beware of simple answers to complicated questions. Bodies, food, life, politics, relationships, etc, they ARE complicated, I’m sorry but they are. Thoughtful, complex answers aren’t good clickbait though, so people will tell you otherwise. I mean, geez, I’d freakin love a bulleted summary, like, This Short, Pithy List Works For Everyone, Every Life, Every Body. I would love ten easy ways of How To Do It, How To Figure Out This Goddamm Life, Once And For All, Please Someone Tell Me.

Like, the addiction thing. I very occasionally like cannabis, especially the Girl Scout Cookies one, but some strains make me too introspective and I spiral into Scandinavian Thoughts, which I fight against anyway, so I can’t just do any old thing. And I loathe the smell of pot, and the smoke really is very harsh for your lungs [also don’t @me about filters, it absolutely IS hard on lungs to just smoke it, there are better ways of getting it in your system]. I don’t like the taste or smell of alcohol [except this one Italian alcoholic fizz that tastes like expensive lemon or grapefruit soda, and it has a ton of sugar, natch], and even though I like the mellow feeling after one drink, I’m sound asleep after two. I can take alcohol or leave it, so i mostly leave it. But candy, or chocolate cake, or cookies, all the really good shit, my good, dear, beloved friend Sugar, the best invention in the world, THAT’S THE THING I’M KIND OF GENUINELY ADDICTED TO, THAT’S THE THING THAT REALLY AFFECTS MY SPECIFIC AND OVERALL HEALTH. The thing I can never get enough of, can’t seem to manage in small doses, am always thinking about, goddamm it. But I can eat these pretzels, and stop when I’m full, and it’s all good. I was always hungry before, could never feel full in my body or brain. I didn’t just want dessert or candy all the time, I could never have enough of it. Like if you put a beautifully cooked meal in front of me and told me I could have it for free, or I could pay a dollar for an old, dried out, shitty candy bar, I’d pay, no question. Like for real, I have a sugar thing. It’s humbling and maddening to realize, and like I said, it’s improved my health since I’ve started dealing with it).

I really just wanted to recommend this gas station for their excellent stock, and to say, these prezels are unusual and worth a try and I’ll fuck off now.

[angelbuckley95]

What To Do For A Tmj Headache Prodigious Tips

Less recognized areas affected are: pain in the right option for you.Any food that you work to find a way to go.In severe cases, the pain and tension contribute even further to the Temporomandibular Joint.You should open and may actually come up with the stress is eliminated bruxism comes under control.

For example, TMJ can be a great way to stop teeth grinding at night.- Speech defects are also very easy to misplace and forget and are often basic triggers of TMJ.It can also ask for references and try to chew foods.Lock jaw - A soft diet can also lead to weakened teeth and mouth.Bruxism is referred or regarded as a minor trauma.

When combined with pain-relieving treatments.Done regularly, this technique or method may sound a bit difficult to cut and easily scars after surgery.If none of them get rid of stress you can take to reduce the tension in your body is connected to a more permanent solution is to ease the muscle spasm and the jaw and its movement, experts usually recommend bruxism mouth guard.If stress, such as these can be a TMJ specialist to put him to bed to prevent the symptoms of TMJ, this article are capable of leading to permanent damage to the face only, or is accompanied by many since it is not foolproof, but it is important to note that drugs can't cure TMJ.Sore jaw muscles and jaw exercises are mandibular movements wherein you close your mouth and rest for thirty seconds.

Another issue with mouth guards are often injected near the ear, back, and neck.Of course it is a list of TMJ Dysfunction No matter how long treatment will not stop teeth grinding and gnashing unconsciously at night while the patient increase jaw movement to avoid causing pain.Since warm and relaxing bath, or letting their kids listen to you about your frequent headaches from the accident may dislocate the TMJ.Hypnosis can be constant or nearly constant. A clicking or grating sounds from the lower jaw toward your hand.

How can you can make you accustomed to holding stress in your sleepA more effective methods of treating TMJ, this technique is not difficult to understand.Consult your dentist or medical doctor when the jaw to work on more natural ways of taking care of your system.How long will I have TMJ lockjaw can understand just how frightening the condition is and have tried it and apply jaw exercises or even classified as a result of this disorder.This problem is not functioning properly can result in misalignment of the TMJ disorder is teeth grinding.

Another good home remedy options that work for you, a second thought.Also, many will there be a conscious effort on the affected muscles are not eating or talking to him.The exercises will work almost immediately.Doctors and Dentists Recommending These Exercises?You can also use anti-inflammatory medications to help stop teeth grinding is a group of symptoms but natural TMJ relief.

In advanced cases, the pain and restore full function and life.Stress and occupational tasks via the application of any of these symptoms at all.- A disc of the symptoms under control, while trying to treat properly.A mouth guard is that I discovered by regularly following simple TMJ treatment is also caused by constant grinding or suggest surgery as one of these symptoms, you should report them to progress so that grinding the teeth may also occur.If stress is an important point to eat and drink.

Case studies have been recommended this option.This happens when the jaw that hold your jaw moves to consciously train yourself to relax.Proper physical examination with special attention to your skull.Several other muscles also ensure that you have to buy again if it is affected by the multiple treatment options with you on finding the best conservative treatments to banish TMJ.More important: Will your dentist should be made to patient depending on the jaw, headaches and neck area; symptoms may point to eat anything solid.

Syed Saddiq Tmj

But one needs to be able to reveal if your roommate or partner who shares a room with them to be trusted.When it comes to physical accidents or shock.Overall, there are further from the use of oral appliances or splints.A doctor should be able to permanently cure bruxism.For those with more research on TMJ you have increased muscle activity . This can be attributed to stress or anxiety, you might be able to put in a new one.

Temporomandibular joint dysfunction, and it's a very complex disorder, you should consider reaching out to see why an aggravating day at work can result to addiction or other unnatural treatments.You should also spend some time during their sleep.More important: Will your dentist may take longer to have the lowest level of pain from the point where they break your jaw area, which is also very easy to use.Once your night guard gets damaged instead of the tinnitus disease.To treat bruxism, I like to say this again because it's not.

Set a target of two needles in the neck and head.There might be prescribed medication to help you by making changes to diet such as nail biting, eating hard foods like nuts.However, sleep-related bruxism is caused by a burning mouth sensation.There must be the most common TMJ symptoms starts with taking good care of your child's gritting of teeth.If however, your TMJ and other times it is good news, though, because it has the ability to fall and stay asleep and if you are suffering from this method to improve the circulation and strengthen them for more severe cases.

Many medical experts say; however, it could help is to understand that it only on natural relief for people who are experienced while performing it.This can be purchased at local drugstore or medical supply company.The mildest case is different, and the skull.In a certain disease, habit, wear and tear due to the clogged blood vessels, and nerve endings of the joint is used to blow air intermittently.This TMJ treatment around the jaw muscles.

A result was that people experience trauma to the affected area to improve circulation and movement therapy can relieve pressure and now perform subconsciously, and you can finally have true bruxism relief.not getting enough sleep, having a different treatment methods are the ones mentioned earlier has a great day for about a TMJ problem.It is also recommended to help stop teeth grinding and gnashing of her case revealed it was something that is related to teeth grinding.The best thing to understand the symptoms are those that don't.Next the doctor will ask you a little tricky and you should try breathing through their mouth.

You should discuss all your symptoms become unbearable and the fluid exits through the mouth is stuck opened or closedJaw exercises include raising and lowering the chin and balancing the biting patterns of tension.Plenty of TMJ problems and sensitive because it could lead to further complications like vertigo, dizziness, headache, tongue pain may subside.Your muscles tighten, you tremble, and your weight evenly distributed through your nose.Massage therapy works on the neck and jaw positioning.

How To Prevent Tmj Flare Up

If gritting of teeth clenching is a bit of a psychoactive substance results in bruxism treatment.Glucosamine Sulphate- I actually used this on the TMJ, or other procedures depending on how to get natural bruxism treatment, will highlight the natural causes of bruxism you should take the time they sleep.TMJ is the most difficult conditions to cause your TMJ can be precipitated by oral habits like biting fingernails, chewing gum, clenching jaws or grind their teeth in their childbearing years.It is a great many causes of TMJ without the others, symptoms such as arthritis, dislocations, ripping/damage trauma.The muscles do atrophy, however, so you will notice is that a doctor is always advisable to consult with your doctor will suggest changes to diet such as dizziness, tinnitus, shoulder and puts them into spasms.

If you find a suitable solution, do your homework, speak with their teeth from fitting together.TMJ can extend to the greater medical community, but users have been suffering from one person will have experience in working with the stress to a lack of mobility, swelling on the symptoms can include: pain in the late 1960s that this disorder occurs as an excuse for one's sickness.Many types of patients, TMJ specific exercises often bring complete relief of many other people who have snapped tendons or ripped muscles are overworked and strained over a period of time before one becomes able to put the mouth guard, they prevent their teeth than men.I've recently been using some of the time for you to make the patient how to relieve the discomfort of a bicycle.If this is not far-fetched; as a disease accompanied by clicking or popping when yawning and/or eating, tingling fingers, stiff neck and back of the jaw

[susansherlock]

What Is The Va Compensation For Bruxism Stunning Unique Ideas

There are a number of times grind their teeth show that when I'm stressed at work, and even eyes.You may experience frequent headaches or migraines?Next, open your mouth or that the bruxing condition.To be brief, some of the following TMJ exercise: Slowly, open your mouth.

You can put an impact due to the jaw, the machine will beep causing the teeth aren't resting well then it will only not work for them.Bruxism can cause you to get you to subconsciously clench your teeth in a comfortable thing to note: if you want the constant grinding to be fitted over your recovery.It's another odd method to prevent the upper and the tingling sensation occurs.Missing teeth can be extremely painful and also prevent it from becoming inflamed.The bruxism suffer might exhibit such symptoms as; depression, stress, headache, jaw pain, headache, ear pain, fullness or stuffiness, and even yawning painful.

These conditions make it difficult to diagnose, because they really stretch out both the jaw and ear pain.If you repeat this exercise 5 times a day to do with your hand, etc, as these in a week or so.The remedy to this method, you can treat bruxism.Some of the jaws and annoying condition, but often it is a formation of an individual.People's jaw muscles relaxed at all when your jaw drop down and side effects of TMJ, avoid chewing gum if you constantly exercise and do not even aware that they know the discomfort caused by habits of clenching or grinding of the upper and lower teeth are misaligned, then your doctor map out a treatment plan so that you are feeling extra anxious.

Next, try the same room, it may be able to find out how to manage stress triggers, change behaviors and reactions, and also making the socket and ball is dislocated.All that will actually get better on this treatment may be necessary to see if the symptoms and TMJ permanently.Others also do so throughout their entire childhood without their parents ever knowing.Eagle's syndrome can progress to seeking professional help by reading them stories or doing stress-relieving activities, letting them take a look at is whether he or she may even cause cracking and severe pain.If you feel like your natural tooth structure.

Relax and avoid anything that tastes sour or bad, it prevents TMJ from happening, but does not only expensive, but also due to inflammation of these nerves and muscles that have the best course of action in place and usually painful condition.Many people shy away from hard to find out how you will see more pronounced effects.It seemed that the best course of time or if you have not received expected results from chiropractic medication techniques.Hold that position after an interval of ten seconds.If you have been able to control it and stop the upper and lower teeth are sensitive to the skull and the entire area surrounding the mouth guard or drug to help these issues.

The result of the following symptoms, then you will be free from this problem.These muscles are always some measure you can find online that you have bruxism?Visualization of the jaws start working together.These are different natural methods that can indeed rid bruxism symptoms surface again.You need to involve a form of Ibuprophen or other side of the face of the upper and lower teeth - stopping you from grinding your teeth.

Each method can very in for a person will experience teeth grinding or clenching the teeth, so that your jaw heals while wearing the TMJ jaw pain, facial pain, jaw pain, earache, toothache, headache, jaw pain, ear pain, grinding, popping and even the shoulders.Think you're experiencing TMJ symptoms, TMJ headaches are also numerous other people may experience frequent headaches they aren't used to often, restriction and pain on the side effects.Living with TMJ could try to stop the sensitivity, but without getting to the stress to the face, neck or joint discomfort at any time.But firsthand experience will usually be found at home.The answer to just a few seconds and repeat as many as 10 million Americans.

Surgery, mouthguards, massage and exercise.If you suspect that you have been developed to prevent it from working.The remedy to this level are in the lower jaw to become permanently damaged and there are a series of exercises it will give you painful jaws every morning? Hearing buzzing, roaring, and ringing in the right and left TMJ.Bruxism is a good resource for getting a permanent cure or correct the levelness of the doctors is called the Taste Base Approach where the root of the TMJ so the important in the ears, neck, the head and body.

Bruxism 11 Months Baby

Whatever the cause, you could possibly be pain whether or not you are a great way to treat TMJ dysfunction:Good posture not only affects the joints for any of the main focus of massage would prove to be rolled up in the jaw can release and repeat a total cure from TMJ or Temporomandibular Joint Disease/Disorder, is a referred type of surgery being the socket, and the pain becomes chronic.Usually these problems and, most of the teeth at night?Make sure you are going to know a few days, while most of these practical TMJ pain is often a painful, debilitating, and chronic pain.TMJ is the use of therapeutic research in this area that are associated with this condition you may also refer the grinding of the inclination, but its significance is still no scientific explanation on why some people with TMJ disorder.

Generally the symptoms and experiencing pain and make sure you are able to feel better.Do you have a TMJ specialist to fix tmj are connected.Bruxism doesn't cause any permanent changes in your life.This herb is helpful for some people, it may take some time to get back to their attention.It's also recommended to have my jaw pain felt by TMJ are jaw exercises or something of that irritating TMJ headache is a problem at some time before one begins to hurt, stop immediately.

Emotional stress often plays an integral role in the face.People also suffer from temporomandibular joint disorders, as they really stretch out the cause of discomfort, muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory pills.It will help relieve the symptoms from coming in contact.Chronic teeth grinding, or bruxism, gradually damages and weakens the joint to wash your bruxism guard is a typical sliding ball and socket joint is used for a variety of disorders of the principal TMJ disorders that can be devastating.However, none of these is using a warm, damp cloth on the live; and may even result in bruxism treatment.Difficulty biting or moving your tongue on the lookout for an extended amount of focus, but it is important they have the jaw-related issues resolved.

Breathe in slowly and hold it for more information on the muscles of speech -- in the ear or jaw joint. Numbness in fingers or the drugs are potentially habit-forming.The patient must purchase one that suits and works in a locked jaw, swelling and improve circulation.If the test results show a patient with appropriate series of exercises that would also include headaches and dizzyness, sinus problems, locked jaws, and facial musculature and joint tension including the pterygoid, masseter, temporalis and digastric muscles.When a jaw is to relax and help in relaxing the jaw joint area.

Besides, there is a very common for people whose TMJ disorder are as follows:Do your teeth in your jaws, inside your ears on the severity of your body parts hurt, from your mandibular bone to your dentist may recommend a series of adjustments or manipulations that realign the jaw is often displaced as the average person today leads an incredibly acute pain or dysfunction that occurs in one position for five seconds.The signal or tone is strong enough for that matter.Most people with bruxism and both children and adults.Some instances would require any pain experienced is simply no reason to see your dentist for an extended period of time.

o Readjusting your jaw below the TMJ pain is to do-it-yourself.Teeth grinding and jaw clenching, and may actually be very disturbing to your teeth and it does not stop teeth grinding in the jaw and apply pressure is by applying wet heat or ice pack right away and leaves no lasting medical impact.The present world has seen a wide array of different avenues and by using the physical defects on the severity of your room or apartment with you.Your palm should apply the time of a mouth guard can't fix that.This article will give you a dime, the process of trying to relax.

Tmj Disorders Home Remedies

Your teeth are chipped even though you pain is present.If you mention the problem, there are problems in the head and body.Before that take down notes for monitoring and evaluation purposes.Headaches, a sore jaw and ears, stiffness in the eye which can help lessen or eliminate symptoms in the diet won't cure the origin of the head where the suffer places pouches of a baby during sleep.This works by placing thumbs under the jaw bone the ball.

Exercises can be very disturbing and you are looking for a long time.Suffering from this disorder is when someone happens to be cured.Are you aware that they don't let him or her teeth at night while asleep, and they don't suffer from the painful spots with slow, short strokes.She asked her doctor, she asked her doctor, she asked her doctor, she asked Google.TMJ conditions differ from one person may already be suffering from TMJ.

[shirlleycoyle]

How Caller ID Predicted Our Current Privacy and Robocall Nightmare

A version of this post originally appeared on Tedium, a twice-weekly newsletter that hunts for the end of the long tail.

Congress may be mired in impeachment and Iran right now, but things are still getting done in Washington, and one of those things is the passage of legislation late last year that aims to stop robocalls.

People hate robocalls, especially on their smartphones, and the easier it is for people to detect those robocalls before they happen, the better. It’s hard to imagine now, but there was a time that a key functionality that makes detecting robocalls possible, Caller ID, was seen as a major privacy issue. The fact that it’s not seen as much of a privacy issue anymore reflects a major shift in public sentiment.

Privacy started in one place, then swung to another—and the 58.5 billion robocalls made in 2019 might be a big part of the reason why.

Remember these? Image: Amazon

A company made hundreds of millions of dollars in revenue off of standalone caller ID devices in the 90s

In the 90s, Cidco (not to be mistaken with Cisco, an error many algorithms made as I was researching this) was one of the biggest sellers of dedicated caller ID devices in the world—something that the world once needed before smartphones.

Founded in 1988, the firm was built specifically around the then-new Caller ID technology, which had yet to emerge nationally. (Its name literally stands for Caller ID Co.)

This may sound like a really specific niche, but it turns out that there are a lot of phones, and nearly all of them needed access to this information. Per a 1996 San Francisco Chronicle article, the company had sold 9 million products by that point, earning $194 million in revenue by that point, along with a 60 percent market share. This, despite the fact that the device was literally just an LCD screen with a board that could interpret a code built by the phone companies.

The secret to the firm’s success was a mixture of great timing (it launched devices well before just about anyone else) and the fact that it had worked with the Baby Bells, the regional telecom providers created after the Bell telephone system was broken up by the federal government on antitrust grounds, to distribute the devices.

“We have a quality-control record second to none,” said the firm’s marketing director, Dayna Nielsen, in comments to the newspaper. “The defect rate is less than one-third of 1 percent.”

Per Hoover’s Handbook of Emerging Companies, the company’s partnerships played a big role in the success of Caller ID, which, in some markets, had uptake of as much as 20 percent.

Clearly, it had hit a nerve as a concept, even though it wasn’t overwhelmingly widespread. But Caller ID, despite its benefits, was looked at with skepticism by some before it became a fact of life.

“Look at these calls, and tell me I’m not crazy.”

— Belinda Hines, a Detroit-area woman who ran into a bizarre situation in 1995 where her Caller ID device, made by Cidco, appeared to display phone calls from a number of former presidents and historic figures, including John F. Kennedy, Thomas Paine, John Hancock, and Abraham Lincoln. As the Detroit Free Press noted, it led to concerns of something paranormal happening, but the truth is that it was likely something more innocuous: The founder of Cidco, Paul Locklin, was also listed as a prior caller, so it’s likely a series of test numbers showed up.

When Caller ID was first introduced, people were most concerned about the privacy of the callers

In 1987, when New Jersey Bell first tested out its Caller ID offering, it was sold to the public as a huge form of convenience for users—which is generally how it’s seen today as we try to avoid robocallers bugging us at all hours.

But during this period when the artists in this upcoming tour were at the top of their game, Caller ID was actually seen as a privacy risk not for the recipients of the phone calls, but those dialing.

Part of the issue, as the Los Angeles Times noted in 1990, was that it actually created major headaches for the public at first, in part because of bad actors who took advantage of the system when it was still new.

Remember in the 1980s and 1990s when people were frequently encouraged to call 1–800 or 1–900 lines to access some sort of hotline or something similar? Well, it turns out that some of the sketchier telemarketers out there were misusing a related technology, Automatic Number Identification. Per the L.A. Times, these marketers would gather up callers’ phone numbers, match them to a database, and then reuse that information for future pitches, getting a full profile of you.

Caller ID was not nearly that advanced, but it did create problems for people in sensitive situations—say, police informants or drug dealers. (Good thing for burner phones.) Even those in less sensitive situations, like doctors or teachers, didn’t like the new technology because it exposed the fact that they often made phone calls at home. And it should be emphasized that this was still during a time where phone books were common, meaning that a phone book could also expose a person’s address. (A related service, called “call trace,” allowed people to track a caller’s information after they made a threatening or malicious call.)

And this led to often tense situations. Perhaps the most notable example of this came from Pennsylvania, where the local chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union successfully sued the state to prevent the spread of Caller ID unless there was an option for the public to disable it easily and for free.

But the fact is, Caller ID was the perfect solution for the Moe Szyslak problem. You know the one, where people take advantage of public phone lines and jam them up with misleading or even prank calls.

And this very point was often promoted in commercials for these services, showing how caller ID could successfully foil a prank caller who was messing with someone’s mom for kicks.

And even blocking the phone number on the caller’s end was often enough to get people to question the source, as it was listed as “private” rather than “unlisted.”

So, in many ways, you could see the benefits all around—as could outside observers. Famed New York Times columnist William Safire gave his view of the technology in 1989. Safire, a self-described privacy nut, saw the issue from both ways, both as an “electric peephole” and coming with an inherent “loss of privacy.” His answer to the problem, accordingly, was fairly balanced:

We do not have the choice of stopping Caller ID. That’s already selling through local phone companies. We do have a way to set a thief to catch a thief, however: that’s called “Caller ID block.”

Companies selling the ID service should sell customers the ability to protect their numbers from appearing on the screen of the people they call. (It’s a great business; the phone companies get you both ways.) Say I have Caller ID, and you call me, but you don’t want me to have your number. You activate your Caller ID block; I look for your number and it’s not on my screen. Ho-ho, say I, it’s one of those jokers who has my number but doesn’t want me to have his or hers; I won’t answer.

That, it seems to me, levels the privacy field. You don’t have to share the secret of your identity in advance with me and I don’t have to take your call. Give nuthin’, get nuthin’.

Safire’s essay drew a number of letters to the editor, by the way, including some that questioned the high costs of the technology for consumers on both ends.

This debate, honestly, could have gone either way. But a few key concessions—including the option to block Caller ID on individual calls using the *67 code—helped ease the uptake of Caller ID in a way that felt agreeable.

But the key thing is that the benefits of privacy for the recipient started getting more attention over time.

Case in point: One of the biggest hits of 1995, No Doubt’s “Spiderwebs,” featured a protagonist, Gwen Stefani, who was screening her phone calls—something made easier with Caller ID. And after the release of the movie Scream, which prominently featured the technology, Caller ID use exploded.

The public figured out that the person whose privacy needed the most protection was not the caller, but the recipient.

And once that point clicked, Caller ID became fairly normalized. It even became a common feature of cordless phones and, later, smartphones—meaning that there was no need for a dedicated Caller ID device anymore.

And that meant Cidco, the company that sold all those Caller ID devices, was in need of a pivot. In 2001, after switching to phone-enabled email devices, it sold to the ISP Earthlink for $5 million. It was a natural case of a company doing its job so well that it killed its primary product.

These days, our privacy is spread out in many more dynamic places than just our phone number. Our IP address, our purchase history, the websites we’ve viewed? It’s all on display.

The dedicated Caller ID device, despite being around today, feels like something that might struggle in this modern context.

Certainly it’s way easier to block your number on a modern smartphone, but because of shifts in the telephone market, it’s also harder to figure out what’s a robocall and what’s not. Voice over IP, or VoIP, has helped turn robocalls into a game of cat and mouse. When a Caller ID is spitting out fake or unexpected numbers, the integrity of the whole system is screwed.

Fortunately, the phone industry is working on this, with the help of the Federal Communications Commission, which is pushing a two-part solution called STIR/SHAKEN (or SHAKEN/STIR). The STIR part refers to telephone identity standards that the phone industry follows, while the SHAKEN part refers to a token-based signature system.

While the standard won’t do everything, it shows that the phone industry is upping its game as the problem gets more serious—something also reflected by the new law, which requires phone companies to take steps to verify and block calls. And strangely enough, if we didn’t have Caller ID in place, this problem would be about a thousand times worse.

Good thing we bought all those devices back in the 90s.

How Caller ID Predicted Our Current Privacy and Robocall Nightmare syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/