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heresmyfiddlestick · 5 months

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Tumblr Dr. Who Poll vs Doctor Who Magazine Poll

It's been just over a month since the end of @adventure-showdown 's monumental survey of how Tumblr feels about individual Doctor Who adventures. Across ten rounds, we sorted the wheat from the chaff, the Quarks from the Rills, and the Cousins from the Looms. I wanted to compare the results of that huge bracket with the results from last year's Doctor Who Magazine poll, which ranked each Doctor's stories individually.

The methodologies for these two were quite different (though adventure-showdown did seed the bracket with a pre-poll that used the same methodology as DWM, but I'm looking at the final poll results for my data here), so comparing them is really interesting! I'm not a statistician, I just like making spreadsheets for fun. I think what can be seen from the trends and data below is a really unique picture of two somewhat overlapping but seriously demographically distinct fragments of the fandom.

Methodologies

Poll Methodologies

The DWM poll asked readers to rank as many televised Doctor Who stories as they liked from 1 to 10. The editors then took the resulting scores for each story and put them in a ranked list for each Doctor.

adventure-showdown began with a series of Google Forms with the same method as DWM, asking internet users to rank stories from 1 to 10. adventure-showdown lumped and split stories differently to DWM: The Key to Time was included as a distinct Four story to each of its individual parts, and each of the individual parts of Trial of a Time Lord and Flux were included alongside the overarching story. Utopia was also split from The Sound of Drums/The Last of the Time Lords.

adventure-showdown used the resulting rankings to create a series of Tumblr polls, moving from a group stage into a series of head-to-head matchups. They matched stories up roughly by obscurity (keeping advertisements and musical numbers separate from audio dramas and comics, which were separate from TV spin-offs, which were separate from the TV show itself), then Doctor or era. With each new round, the matchups were scrambled within melded groups, which ultimately led to a diverse distribution of all different eras and media under the umbrella of Doctor Who throughout the tournament.

My Methodology

In order to turn adventure-showdown's poll results into something that can be compared to DWM's, I created a spreadsheet tracking how each Doctor's stories were doing, separating them first into tiers according to which round they were eliminated in, then within those tiers by how many votes they had in the matchup where they were eliminated.

In the case of some particularly tough matchups, this means that the story that got the most points throughout the entire competition is not necessarily the highest-ranked story for that Doctor. For instance, The Happiness Patrol finished #3 of the Seventh Doctor's stories according to my reckoning of the Tumblr poll, being eliminated in the fifth round with 400 votes, less than the two stories above it (which were eliminated in rounds where they got 147 and 107 votes, respectively). The Happiness Patrol saw a vigorous campaign to increase its vote count, since it was up against Blink. The post for the matchup that eliminated it currently has 304 notes as of this writing. This is one of the fun quirks of this execrise.

General Trends

Where We Agree

The Ninth Doctor shows very stable story rankings between DWM and Tumblr.

On average, the difference in rankings for each episode of 9 is 5%, with only 2 out of 10 stories actually moving up or down the rankings at all. The Sixth Doctor is similar: only 3 of his 8 stories (included in the DWM poll, meaning not counting the individual parts of Trial) moved by more than 1 ranking. The Seventh Doctor only had 4 of his 12 stories move by more than 1 ranking.

On the flipside, Tumblr's opinions differ from DWM most regarding the First, Fifth, and Eleventh Doctors. The only stories that stayed relatively stable across both rankings for these Doctors are as follows.

For the First Doctor, only 4 out of 29 didn't shift by more than 1 ranking: #2 The Time Meddler, #5 The Tenth Planet (#6 in DWM), #18 The Keys of Marinus, and #20 The Reign of Terror (#19 in DWM) For the Fifth Doctor, we agreed only 5 times out of 20: #1 The Caves of Androzani, #2 The Five Doctors (#3 in DWM), #11 Frontios, #14 Black Orchid, and #17 Arc of Infinity (#16 in DWM) For Eleven, 5 of his 39 stories stayed relatively stable: #1 Vincent and the Doctor (#2 in DWM), #4 The Eleventh Hour (#3 in DWM), #9 Amy's Choice, #14 The Snowmen (#13 in DWM), and #39 The Doctor, the Widow, and the Wardrobe.

As you'll see further below, there is usually agreement between both polls about at least one episode that is in the top and bottom 3 or 4 for each Doctor, so these extremes represent the battle over ordering the ones generally ranked in the middle.

We Hate Daleks

As a general trend, Tumblr seems to think less of Dalek stories than the general DWM readership.

Out of 26 stories with Daleks as the primary antagonist, only 8 did not drop by more than 1 slot between the DWM poll and the Tumblr bracket (that is The Chase, Genesis of the Daleks, Remembrance of the Daleks, Dalek, Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways, Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks, The Magician's Apprentice/The Witch's Familiar, and Eve of the Daleks). DIM/Evolution actually ranked 3 slots higher on Tumblr than the magazine, while TMA/TWF and Eve finished significantly higher on Tumblr than in the magazine, cracking into the top 5 for their respective Doctors.

We Love The Master

Meanwhile, out of 26 stories featuring the Master, either as the primary antagonist or as an important character, only two dropped by more than one place in the rankings (The End of Time and The Power of the Doctor), while the others either stayed put or increased their positions, some by quite a lot (e.g. The Time Monster (up 20 slots in the Third Doctor rankings), The Keeper of Traken (up 8 slots in the Fourth Doctor rankings), Planet of Fire (up 6 spots in the Fifth Doctor rankings), and The Magician's Apprentice/The Witch's Familiar (up 9 spots in the Twelfth Doctor rankings)).

We Have No Easily Observable Feelings About the Cybermen

Out of 18 Cyberman stories, 9 fell in the rankings between DWM and Tumblr, while 5 stayed within 1 rank of the DWM poll, and 4 rose. If I had to venture a hypothesis based on my unscientific qualitative analysis, it looks like Tumblr marked down most of the Classic Who Cyberman stories (only The Tenth Planet, The Invasion, and Attack staying within 1 rank of the DWM poll), while the only ones that rose in the ranks were New Who stories (Rise/The Age of Steel, Closing Time, Nightmare in Silver, and Dark Water/Death in Heaven-- though of course this last one is also a Master story, which we know we love).

Superlatives

Here are the stories that showed the biggest positive and negative difference in their rankings between the DWM poll and the Tumblr bracket, for each Doctor:

First Doctor

Biggest jump: #10 The Sensorites (up from #27 in DWM) Biggest fall: #28 The Crusade (down from #13 in DWM)

Second Doctor

Biggest jump: #8 The Highlanders (up from #16 in DWM) Biggest fall: #14 The Evil of the Daleks (down from #14 in DWM)

Third Doctor

Biggest jump: #4 The Time Monster (up from #24 in DWM) Biggest fall: #21 Day of the Daleks (down from #11 in DWM)

Fourth Doctor

Biggest jump: #7 The Horns of Nimon (up from #40 in DWM) Biggest fall: #36 The Talons of Weng-Chiang (down from #5 in DWM)

Fifth Doctor

Biggest jump: #8 Planet of Fire (up from #14) Biggest fall: #15 Resurrection of the Daleks (down from #6)

Sixth Doctor

Biggest jump: #1 The Mark of the Rani (up from #5 in DWM) Biggest fall: #6 Revelation of the Daleks (down from #1 in DWM) [NB: not counting each part of Trial, since DWM didn't include them - though The Ultimate Foe ranked #10 on Tumblr while Trial itself ranked #4 in DWM, so that could be another option for this superlative]

Seventh Doctor

Biggest jump: #3 The Happiness Patrol (up from #7 in DWM) Biggest fall: #12 Silver Nemesis (down from #9 in DWM)

Ninth Doctor

Biggest jump: #5 The End of the World (up from #7 in DWM) Biggest fall: #7 Rose (down from #5 in DWM)

Tenth Doctor

Biggest jump: #17 42 (up from #31 in DWM) Biggest fall: #29 The Girl in the Fireplace (down from #7 in DWM) [NB: adventure-showdown split Utopia and The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords where DWM didn't, which both placed above these two stories.]

Eleventh Doctor

Biggest jump: #13 The Rings of Akhaten (up from #34 in DWM) Biggest fall: #36 The Crimson Horror (down from #18 in DWM)

Twelfth Doctor

Biggest jump: #20 The Eaters of Light (up from #30 in DWM) Biggest fall: #18 The Zygon Invasion/The Zygon Inversion (down from #7 in DWM)

Thirteenth Doctor

Biggest jump: TIE #1 Demons of the Punjab (up from #5), #2 Spyfall (up from #6), and #3 Eve of the Daleks (up from #7) Biggest fall: #15 Rosa (down from #4) [NB: not counting each part of Flux, since DWM didn't include them - though The Vanquishers ranked #29 on Tumblr while Flux itself ranked #12 in DWM, so that could be another option for this superlative]

Definitive Bests and Worsts

Here, then, are each Doctor's commonly agreed-upon best and worst stories: that is, those stories ranked in each Doctor's top/bottom 10% (minimum 3) in each poll, and where both polls overlap. Lists are alphabetical.

First Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: The Time Meddler Tumblr: The Edge of Destruction, The Romans DWM: The Dalek Invasion of Earth, The Daleks' Master Plan Worst Tumblr: The Crusade, The Savages, The Smugglers DWM: The Sensorites, The Space Museum, The Web Planet

Second Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: The War Games Tumblr: The Enemy of the World, The Mind Robber DWM: The Power of the Daleks, Tomb of the Cybermen Worst Both agree: The Dominators, The Space Pirates Tumblr: The Krotons DWM: The Underwater Menace

Third Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: The Green Death Tumblr: The Dæmons, The Three Doctors DWM: Inferno, Spearhead from Space Worst Both agree: The Mutants Tumblr: Death to the Daleks, Planet of the Daleks DWM: The Monster of Peladon, The Time Monster

Fourth Doctor (top/bottom 4)

Best Both agree: City of Death, Genesis of the Daleks, Robots of Death Tumblr: The Horror of Fang Rock DWM: Pyramids of Mars Worst Both agree: The Power of Kroll, Underworld Tumblr: Nightmare of Eden, Revenge of the Cybermen DWM: The Horns of Nimon, Meglos

Fifth Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: The Caves of Androzani, The Five Doctors Tumblr: Enlightenment DWM: Earthshock Worst Both agree: Time-Flight Tumblr: The Awakening, Four to Doomsday DWM: The King's Demons, Warriors of the Deep

Sixth Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: Vengeance on Varos Tumblr: The Mark of the Rani, Trial of a Time Lord (considered as a whole) Worst Both agree: Timelash, The Twin Dilemma Tumblr: The Ultimate Evil (specifically) DWM: Attack of the Cybermen

Seventh Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: Remembrance of the Daleks, Survival Tumblr: The Happiness Patrol DWM: The Curse of Fenric Worst Both agree: Delta and the Bannermen, Time and the Rani Tumblr: Silver Nemesis DWM: Paradise Towers

Ninth Doctor (top/bottom 3)

Best Both agree: Bad Wolf/The Parting of Ways, Dalek, The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances Worst Both agree: Aliens of London/World War Three, Boom Town, The Long Game

Tenth Doctor (top/bottom 4)

Best Both agree: Blink, Midnight, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead Tumblr: The Fires of Pompeii DWM: Human Nature/The Family of Blood Worst Both agree: The Idiot's Lantern, The Lazarus Experiment Tumblr: The Next Doctor, The Shakespeare Code DWM: Fear Her, Love & Monsters

Eleventh Doctor (top/bottom 4)

Best Both agree: The Eleventh Hour, The Pandorica Opens, Vincent and the Doctor Tumblr: The Doctor's Wife DWM: Day of the Doctor Worst Both agree: The Doctor, the Widow, and the Wardrobe Tumblr: The Crimson Horror, Night Terrors, Victory of the Daleks DWM: The Curse of the Black Spot, Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS, Nightmare in Silver

Twelfth Doctor (top/bottom 4)

Best Both agree: Heaven Sent, Mummy on the Orient Express, World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls Tumblr: The Husbands of River Song DWM: Flatline Worst Both agree: In the Forest of the Night, Kill the Moon, Sleep No More Tumblr: The Lie of the Land DWM: The Woman Who Lived

Thirteenth Doctor (top/bottom 3)

[Villa Diodati gif included because there is no overlap in the two polls' top 3 for Thirteen, however this episode ranked #4 on Tumblr and #2 in DWM, so it is the closest overlap at the top.]

Best Both agree: None! Tumblr: Eve of the Daleks, Demons of the Punjab, Spyfall DWM: Fugitive of the Judoon, The Haunting of Villa Diodati, The Power of the Doctor Worst Both agree: The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos, Orphan 55 Tumblr: The Vanquishers (on its own) DWM: Legend of the Sea Devils

...What about Eight?

Who said that? I thought you had all gone. You shouldn't scare me like that. Well, you see, the Eighth Doctor only has two televised appearances in which he features, and only one of those was included in the DWM poll. This post is about comparing the two polls. I can't really do anything...

Ah, alright.

Televised Appearances

We ranked The Night of the Doctor above the TV Movie. Night made it all the way to round 6, while the TV Movie was out in Round 2, losing with 266 votes to Jubilee, which then lost to Scherzo in the next round. Night lost to Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways, which had 344 votes to Night's 204.

Audios

Scherzo made it to the quarter-finals of the Tumblr poll! It lost out to Midnight 435 to 581, the first TV episode it encountered in adventure-showdown's very intricate media-segregating bracket.

Caerdroia made it to round 7, losing to Scherzo after it had beaten out Father's Day in round 6 (299-280) and the much-loved SJA episode The Curse of Clyde Langer in round 5.

The Natural History of Fear made it to round 6, finally losing out to Blink (253-352), and making it the top-scoring Eight audio to go out in this round.

The Chimes of Midnight also got to round 6, finally just losing to Remembrance of the Daleks (163-166); in the same round, Zagreus lost to Scherzo (131-210) just after it had beaten Genesis of the Daleks (132-103) in round 5.

The next highest-ranked Eight* audio is Solitaire (a Companion Chronicle, hence the asterisk), which was eliminated in round 5, losing to Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead (180-43).

It's worth noting here, that Doctor Who and the Pirates also made it to round 6, making it the highest-ranked non-Eighth Doctor audio. It lost to City of Death (170-78). The next-highest ranked audios are The Marian Conspiracy (lost in Round 5 to The Wedding of Sarah-Jane Smith), The Holy Terror (lost in Round 5 to The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances), and A Death in the Family (lost in Round 5 to The Natural History of Fear). Congratulations to Evelyn Smythe.

Novels

The EDA Alien Bodies managed to make it to round 6, finally being eliminated by Turn Left with 145 votes to 264. It had just beaten out Time Crash in the previous round. This makes it the highest-ranked Doctor Who novel overall, according to this Tumblr tournament.

The next-highest novel for the Eighth Doctor was Unnatural History, which was defeated in round 5 by The Chimes of Midnight.

Below that, there were five EDAs eliminated in round 4:

Interference (lost with 41 votes to Scherzo's 85)

Mad Dogs and Englishmen (lost with 38 votes to The Marian Conspiracy's 56)

The Adventuress of Henrietta Street (lost with 28 votes to A Death in the Family's 54)

Camera Obscura (lost with 27 votes to Lungbarrow's 47)

The Scarlet Empress (lost with 22 votes to The Chimes of Midnight's 102)

Comics

I hadn't actually been tracking any of this Eight stuff, so I'm having to squint through the backlog and this is already much too long. So you're only getting two: The Land of Happy Endings is the Eighth Doctor comic that made it the farthest in the Tumblr competition, being eliminated in round 3 by An Adventure in Space and Time (46 votes to 95). The Flood also made it to round 3, where it was eliminated by the Thirteenth Doctor comic Old Friends, gaining 39 votes against Old Friends' 47.

#doctor who #classic who #big finish #eighth doctor #jodie whittaker #thirteenth doctor #christopher eccleston #ninth doctor #many interesting things here #will reblog with analysis

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asleepyy · 8 months

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Hello! I just did yet another reread of your comic, so here's a list of random things I love about it!! Sorry if this is a bit uuuhhhh MUCH but I just love your comic a lot, and want to share some of that love, and this seemed like the best way to go about that. So:

-The way Azazel's wings are so fluffy and Jophiel's are so sleek! Your stylization of them is so pretty.

-How you draw Azazel's hands always folded as if in prayer, or fiddling...even though the rest of him is often so still. Very true to Aziraphale, of course, but also fitting of an owl - still and always observing. But still, something that betrays that vigilance.

-Jophiel's honest-to-someone mullet in Mesopotamia. I love him so much. His little curls give me life.

-How Jophiel is always moving, angling his head in funny ways, pulling absurd expressions! He's so fun and mobile, which is just perfect to contrast our very sad and stationary owl.

-just a second being overwhelmed again at the fact that Azazel risked and gave up everything for Jophiel and continues to do so after Falling for him I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine this is fine.

-The way they are so in character in this!! I love reverse AUs but it's very hard to keep them in character in them. You do so flawlessly, to the point that as I find myself trying to imagine future story beats, I struggle to because I just see them acting the way they do in the canon. Stellar writing.

-Jophiel's wink in Mesopotamia. This deserves its own point in this list. As does Azazel finally getting to look happy in the frame after, even if it doesn't last...oh sweet owl...

-Azazel tugging on Jophiel's abaya in Golgatha...completely unnecessary to get his attention, didn't need to pull him closer or anything, but it's like the fiddling of his hands wasn't soothing enough and he needed to reach out in this moment of fear for Jophiel, always asking questions.

-The return of Jophiel's mullet in Heaven! Hell yeah

-help you draw Muriel SO cute.

-Azazel's "I've personally witnessed an Angel become an owl" PLEASE it's so devastating yet so funny

-Every time we get a little frame of just Jophiel's eyes reacting with sorrow and anger at moments when it's so, so clear Azazel was never meant to Fall. His eyes are SO expressive. I don't think your future sunglasses are gonna hide the fact that you're constantly glaring at god my guy.

-I really love the way you draw Jophiel's nose, it's gorgeous!

-Jophiel. Calls. Him. Angel. Need to lie down

-Seriously, I should've anticipated it, and I didn't, that's on me, but my HEART was not READY and I'm obsessed with this scene and its implications. The way Jophiel, deep down, doesn't even see Azazel as a demon ("you were an angel once" "that was a long time ago"). How pleased and adorable Azazel is at being referred to thusly (the little hair poofs!!!). The care they have long held for each other, in its unique and strange manifestations, revealing itself as a tangible burgeoning affection.

-Jophiel's declaration on the most recent page to protect Azazel, having no freaking clue that he's frankly 4500 years late to the game. Glad to have you here, your demon friend has been protecting YOU since before time was invented! Woo...but seriously, such a powerful and touching moment all around.

Anyway, I know this is ridiculously long, but goodness knows long comments on my GO fics always make ME very happy, so I figured you wouldn't mind. ;) I eagerly anticipate every update and bit of art, and when you make this comic into physical form, I will be camping out front of the pre-orders like it's a Black Friday sale. Tent and all. And snacks.

Take care!

🥹🥹😭😭 THANK YOU!!! This is super super sweet thank you for taking ur time to do this!!! I think I’d create the first physical copy when we finish season one of the show in the story, and then if interest is still high, a second physical copy for when we tackle season 2!

#good omens #ask #ineffable-doll

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starsurface · 1 month

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<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Regressor Lord Raiden w/ CG Liu Kang & Kung Lao

They spent the next little while mostly coloring and chatting, and of course cuddling. Raiden's picture was perfect!! Well, it was mostly just scribbles, coloring outside the lines too.

But it was the first time he had ever drawn outside the lines. And that itself was very important. Raiden usually fussy about his pictures needing to look nice. So he was probably very deep in his regression, an incident that has yet to ever happen.

Raiden seemed a bit sleepy. Not enough to get him to bed, but definitely somewhat tired. Most likely feeling almost exhausted after crying that hard. But Liu Kang and Kung lao knew toddlers. And while Raiden would go to bed if they asked, he'd probably get a bit fussy.

What was an activity that could tire him out? . . .

"What about a dance party?" Liu Kang suggested as Raiden finished.

Kung Lao pouted, "I am not done with my picture, mister."

"Dance?" Raiden asked, seeming interested.

"Yeah! We could turn on some funky music-"

"No one says funky anymore," Kung Lao butted it.

"And make a fun little dance!" Liu Kang continued, ignoring his friend.

Sometimes when Liu Kang was small, they'd have dance time!! So they had a small music player, mostly full of 80s-90s music. Raiden was incredibly good at dancing, so was Liu Kang. Little Raiden didn't dance much, but he enjoyed watching Liu kang dance.

"You wanna dance, kiddo?" Liu Kang asked.

"Blankie dance?" Raiden asked, he didn't wanna take off his blankie.

"I think blankie would love to dance!" Liu Kang agreed. Raiden let him go so Liu Kang could stand up, causing Kung Lao to fuss.

"You ruined my picture- I hope you're happy!" Kung Lao grumbled.

"Very much so," Liu Kang smirked, turning his music player on. "Okay, now we dance!"

Raiden was a very stiff dancer.

To try and help, Liu Kang danced his heart out. Some old 80s moves he liked doing sometimes that made others laugh. (It definitely got Kung Lao to laugh, mostly at him.)

But Raiden kind stood in place, his blankie wrapped around him. Smiling as he watched Liu Kang practically break it down. Kung Lao finished up his picture before joining Raiden's side.

"You know, your supposed to dance too," Kung Lao whispered to the God.

Raiden blinked at him before giving two small hops, looking at Kung Lao happily.

". . . I like that dance, that's a pretty nice dance," Kung Lao praised. "Better than Liu's over there."

"What?!" Liu Kang pouted, causing Raiden to giggle.

"Dance!" Raiden whispered, hopping again. It wasn't really a hop, he barely went onto his toes.

"Oh yeah, I like that dance way better!" Kung Lao nodded, bouncing himself. Although he actually bounced, compared to Raiden's tiny tippy-toe hops.

"You are being so mean tonight," Liu Kang crossed his arms, huffing, "So, so mean."

Raiden frowned, not liking Liu Kang's tone. Liu Kang had meant it in a teasing manner, but it made Raiden upset. He didn't want any conflict, he didn't want Liu to be angry, and he didn't want Lao to be mean.

"Lao, gotta say sorry," Raiden tugged on Kung Lao's shirt.

"What? I didn't do nothing!" Kung Lao pouted. Although he saw the tears that began to well in Raiden's eyes. "I mean . . I'm sorry for being mean tonight Liu."

Liu Kang smirked, sighing dramatically, "Well I guess I can accept this apology of yours, my friend."

". . . And I thought I've been spending too much time with Cage," Kung Lao nudged Raiden, earning a small giggle and a nod.

"Lao, getting sleepy," Raiden fussed, rubbing his puffy, tired eyes.

"You're getting sleepy?" Kung Lao asked, receiving a small nod. "Come on, we'll cuddle in my bed. It's much more comfy than Liu Kang's bed."

"Wha- I wanna join," Liu Kang frowned.

"Let Liu join, pease Lao?" Raiden asked quietly.

"Oh of course I will!" Kung Lao gently hushed him. "I'm not that mean. Of course Liu can come join our cuddle pile."

"I'll get my blanket!" Liu Kang smiled.

The bed was not at all big enough to fit all three of them, especially with Raiden's size. But, somehow, they made it work. Three blankets on top of them, limbs smushed together. Bad bad feelings gone away, and a tiny baby sound asleep in bed.

Fujin was thankful he found him like that. He had been there when Raiden first regressed, tucking him into bed afterward.

The baby must have gotten out to see his two friends. Fujin had been looking throughout the entire sky temple to find where on earth he was.

At least he was safe. A small lecture might be done tomorrow, but probably not.

. . . Especially if Raien was still small when he woke up.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Pt 1

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strangerstime · 8 months

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Perhaps this information will totally influence my future writings

This topic exhausted itself a long time ago. But is it always a bad thing to return to something that still weighs on you to this day? Yeah, I'm talking about Sun and Moon Show.

So why did I pull this topic out of the nailed coffin when I have already stated my opinion before? Well, there are reasons for that. My friend, @visionthefox, often makes little posts debating this, and I read them from time to time. And the post about Bloodmoon and Lunar has me quite interested. More specifically the fact that BM broke his arm. I was impressed: in a show made for kids, they showed that moment in a very violent and intimidating way. For that they have my respect. I hadn't heard my boys' voices in quite a while and was immensely happy to hear the two of them again (if you remember, it was after BM and Lunar died that I finally gave up on the show). But my happiness didn't last long.

I watched a few other episodes, including gameplay episodes (where I think the BM actor underplayed emotionally, since I saw him as Moon the whole time, but Ruin Eclipse behaved pretty similarly, but not about that), and was somewhat disappointed. Not only that they made two hysterical twins out of my fun and active twins (which is justifiable, since they've been betrayed many times and suffered mentally from it), but also how much the plot became… monotonous? I just didn't have the fervor to find out what happens next.

You may say to me, "Well, it's a show for kids! Why pick on it?" Well, I came to this show when I was a kid. And I thought it was pretty strong script-wise. So what happened? When did those subtle plot lines weaving together turn into constant "here-this-twists!"? All in all, it's pretty sad. I don't deny that there are some positive aspects to the show: I like that the BMs are shown to be much more serious and more realistic, with their complexes and fears; that they brought up Lunar and BM's "brotherhood" (After a year- KHEM) and other minor pluses, but there's nothing here that can bring my attention back. The saddest thing is when watching something leaves no emotion at all…. Just emptiness...

I am in no way judging you if you like this Show! This is my subjective opinion, which I just decided to express for one simple reason: I feel guilty.

Guilty of falling for it, of following the creators' leash, of deciding to base my universe on it and thereby creating so many problems for myself that I won't be able to solve anytime soon, because all the problems start from the first comics… I've only been doing this for a year, and I realize I'm as far from perfect as the Earth is from the Moon. I realize that I should have thought of the consequences earlier, but I was going with my emotions and hopes, which ultimately didn't come to fruition. I accept the fact that people unfamiliar with SAMS will not get on board, they will be confused and end up drowning in trying to understand what is going on here. Which leads me to ask just one question:

"What should I do now?"

Is it worth restarting the whole thing? Flush a whole year of my efforts down the toilet to convey the true essence of my complicated plot? Or should I give up and just pretend like this is how it's supposed to be, finally finishing at least one part of this story….

Many people won't get to this point, but the few that do, hear me: never repeat my mistakes. Don't put your fate in the hands of other people.

End of communication.

#the sun and moon show #my opinion #my thoughts #i feel like I'm hating this but i'm not #my mistakes #enjoy your life #black white stranger

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pocketsizedquasar · 5 months

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7, about your starhab motivations?

7) How did you first get the idea for this story? (WIP ask game)

YEAH! SO! I'm not sure if you're asking more generally about my starhab thoughts (of which i have so many) or about the AU specifically, but i'll answer a bit of both!

as long as i've been a Dick Guy TM i've thought there's some fun & interesting homoerotic nonsense going on btwn ahab & starbuck (though i didn’t get Super Into thinking abt them as much until my partner read mobydick and we both got super gay about it lol)

most notably from the symphony (the whole scene & the conversation they have there, really, but especially "Close! stand close to me, Starbuck; let me look into a human eye; it is better than to gaze into sea or sky; better than to gaze upon God. By the green land; by the bright hearth-stone! this is the magic glass, man; I see my wife and my child in thine eye. No, no; stay on board, on board!—lower not when I do; when branded Ahab gives chase to Moby Dick. That hazard shall not be thine. No, no! not with the far away home I see in that eye!" from Ahab and the response from Starbuck "Oh, my Captain! my Captain! noble soul! grand old heart, after all! why should any one give chase to that hated fish! Away with me! let us fly these deadly waters! let us home! Wife and child, too, are Starbuck’s—wife and child of his brotherly, sisterly, play-fellow youth; even as thine, sir, are the wife and child of thy loving, longing, paternal old age! Away! let us away!"). i have a longer post yelling about all the textual reasons i like them as a doomed/tragic/unfulfilled romance here

less romantic and more strictly narrative reasons aside, I think they're fascinating as foils and how they're both written to be suffering from the same violent & horrific system in very different ways, and how they both cope with it in different ways. i have also (predictably) yelled abt that here (which also goes a good amoutn into the setup/basic concept of the au! and talks more about my motivations for it) BUT the tl;dr of that post^ is i think melville writes both of them as very deeply Isolated people in different ways; some of the isolation is self inflicted, and some of it is a product of the system they're in. and specifically i find Really interesting how Whiteness TM is used as a tool of isolation for both of them

the 'Good AU TM' itself as i've been uncreatively calling it is a lot of me wanting to play with that isolation & whiteness as a system of forced isolation, and like. seeing what it would take to crack that! seeing what it would take to break ahab's singleminded myopic vengeance quest & also what it would take to break starbuck's white-xtian-motivated loneliness.

it's equal parts that, and equal parts just a good ol' fix-it-fic for the canon tragedy, because as much as i obviously adore tragedy, it's nice to have happy ending au's too <3

the basic concept of the AU is picking up from the end of the Symphony, which i read as the sort of last 'point of no return' of the tragedy (ahab reaches out one last time for help--admitting he doesn't want this, admitting he doesn't know why he's doing it / that he feels like he has no choice; and starbuck leaves him & gives up on it -- in an inversion of their relationship up until that point, where starbuck was usually the one begging ahab to stop and ahab the one denying him), and having starbuck and ahab actually like. Communicate TM! have more conversations! and have me pushing them so i can see when they finally break.

this got long because i am incapable of shutting up about any of the Dick-related things but yeah <3 thanks for reading!

Good AU TM is coming. it's currently 20k words (and 6 and a half chapters so far) and i rly should start posting it soon even if it's not finished lmao

#mobydick #moby dick #starbuck #ahab #starhab #captain ahab #ask game #ask meme #ask #focsle #quasartalks #hrrhghghrhhhrhg #long post #they're so . i need to crack them both open like a walnut

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elizabethshaw · 2 months

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20 questions for writers

i was tagged by @riversofmars (thank you!!)... feel like a little bit of a fraud doing this as i've had major writer's block for nearly two years now and have written virtually nothing during that time, but i'm gonna give it a go anyway 😅

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

14 :))

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

46,344

3. What fandoms do you write for?

doctor who! mostly leaning towards dweu/big finish stuff but i've written some new who fic as well in the past. (i've also been wanting to write something for the pleasant green universe audio series for a while now but as my major fixations on it have all coincided with the aforementioned writer's block that... hasn't happened lmao)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Wy' ti'n dal i weld cysgodion yn y nos? (67 kudos)

in it together (23 kudos)

The Security Guard, The Scholar, And The Giant Stone Cube (22 kudos)

I Lie Awake And Watch It All (19 kudos)

og um vitt aldrin síggjast meir (18 kudos)

predictably, this includes all of the new who fics i've written, and (bar the third) almost none of the fics i'm actually most proud of lol 😅

(also feel a need to clarify here that the foreign-language titled fics are not actually in those languages, i just use song lyrics as titles a lot and for various reasons over half the music i listen to at any given moment is Not In English, hence the titles being as they are)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try to! sometimes i'm a bit delayed with it (i know there's a couple i need to get around to answering rn but before today i hadn't been on my ao3 for... half a year at least?? so i'm a bit behind oops), but i like to get back to everyone who leaves a comment, just to say thanks :)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably hver fer sinn veg - it's set during "the war doctor begins", it was never going to be a happy one lol

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

gei di weld y byd mewn lliw, i think :)

8. Do you get hate on fic?

thankfully no! i've been lucky enough that my experience with fic writing/sharing has been very positive so far <3

9. Do you write smut?

no, it's not really my thing. smut is very honestly just kinda there to me, i don't have strong feelings about it either way, and so it's not something i've ever felt compelled to write yknow??

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope! i mainly prefer playing around with canon/canon-adjacent stuff tbh, i've got a couple of unfinished aus hanging around that will probably never see the light of day, but no crossovers that i can think of

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as i'm aware. though to be fair, i don't venture onto fic websites other than ao3 so i'll never know for certain. i doubt it though

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

again, not as far as i know! i'd probably be chill with it though if anyone wanted to translate a fic of mine, provided they asked beforehand and it was one i was comfortable with being translated :)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope! the closest i've got is participating in an event run by a discord server i used to be mildly active in and am technically still part of, which was a lot of fun :D

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

i don't know if i really have an "all-time" favourite as such, but i've written a fair bit for liv and helen from the 8das, and really love their dynamic. i'm also a big fan of leela/romana, but for whatever reason i've never been quite able to make writing them work :/

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

there's a fair few 😅 the main one I can think of atm is the eldritch helen fic i vaguely remember being asked about on here a couple of years back, it's a concept that i still have a lot of interest in and love for, but i've never quite been able to get the fic itself to work and i fear it may be doomed to the wip pit for eternity :((

i've also got quite a few unfinished pieces of varying lengths with the war-veklin-albert tardis team from "the war doctor begins" hanging around my drive that i'd a) love to finish and b) probably won't; their dynamic and their whole deal as a team whose story takes place mostly off-screen and which we only see the ending of fascinates me. maybe one day i'll manage to do something with it

16. What are your writing strengths?

description :) this is the one thing i am ever consistently happy with in my writing (i am my own harshest critic <3), and i've got a couple of nice comments about it before. so!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

dialogue - even with characters i know well and whose voices i have clear in my head, i do find it difficult to make dialogue feel really authentic, and it's definitely something i tend to overly fixate on when i'm writing because i'm so conscious of wanting to get it right

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i'm totally fine with it! as long as it has a reason for being in the story, and isn't like. getting in the way of readers understanding what's going on, i don't see the problem.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

doctor who :)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

it's probably a tie between The Security Guard, The Scholar, And The Giant Stone Cube (a fic i wrote back in 2021 based on this post about rory and helen theoretically being able to meet each other at the national museum during the pandorica arc, which i loved writing and am still really happy with nearly 3 years later), and mae cuddio dagrau yn fy ngwaed (a bit of a weirder/darker dreamscape-type story; it took a lot of puzzling things out to piece all the different parts together to make something that was cohesive but still felt strange or off in the way dreams do, but i was really pleased with the end result!)

can't think of anyone to tag off the top of my head who hasn't been tagged already, so i'll leave this free for anyone to take part if they want to! :)

#tag game #thanks again for the tag!!#feels a bit odd posting about my writing on here as i don't do it all that often but this was fun!! nice looking back on everything :)

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bloodsbane · 3 months

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Hello, Happy (late? Its 1 am so I think technically late) birthday :) I just saw in yer tags that you decided to play Slay the Princess on your birthday, and I wanted to ask what you thought of the game :)

thank you~ ^^ i'm more than happy to talk about it!

short answer is that yes, i did play, and i had a really good time! I did one "full run" of it. for those curious, i got these in order: the Fury, the Razor, the Damsel, the Prisoner, and the Adversary.

it's a game i'd definitely recommend to anyone who's at least slightly interested in it! and that it's absolutely one that's the most fun going into as blind as possible, BUT by its nature, you'd still have a lot to discover on your own even if you watched someone play part of most of a run ;)

(more concrete commentary and vague spoilers below)

(and of the routes i got, I think Fury and Adversary are my favorites, though I did the Godkiller branch of Fury so I'm really curious to get that again and try going with the Broken's suggestions heh)

I ended up getting what I think could be called a 'middling/Neutral' ending, which was fine, I was playing to explore and pick what felt right in each moment rather than get something more definitive. I think I got a lot of insights by the end of my route so I'm eager to get back into it and play the game at least like 2 more times.

I REALLY enjoy the game, I think the ideas behind it are so cool and I love how it has so much replay-ability. like, I watched Joseph Anderson's playthrough of it (which was super funny, though I didn't finish watching the end of it bc he got a different Ending than I did and I didn't wanna see every detail of that), and it was really interesting to see not only what other routes he discovered, but how when he encountered routes that I'd also run into (Razor, Damsel), he managed to get slightly-to-moderately different versions of them! Like, his version of the Princess at the end of his Damsel route was totally different from mine!

The presentation is perfect, too. I'm already quite familiar with Jonathan Sims' voice talents of course, since I've been a huge fan of The Magnus Archives for the last ~5 years, and he wrote/voiced in that podcast. He does a phenomenal job acting out all the Voices in STP, and it was really nice to hear him performing again (even as I'm keeping up with the TMA sequel podcast, where he also voices, just not as predominantly!)

The voice acting for the Princess was amazing too, I LOVED hearing all the different variations of her vocal presentation. I thought it was such an immediately cool detail... especially since I chose to take the knife down with me on my very first go at it, so my first impression of her was the much more dangerous and stern delivery, which I wasn't expecting - I anticipated the writing to have her play innocent at first, but of course I know now why that wasn't the case, hehehe.

and of course the artwork is amazing. i LOVE how it's kept to a more sketchy, work-in-progress feeling style, i think it conveys the fragility and impermanence and transformative nature of the game and where it takes place. and of course all the ways the princess is stylized, both more subtly and obviously, in each route, is one of the most fun elements of discovering new versions of her. a lot of the compositions are great and i love her expressions a ton!! uhg just really great artwork all around

and speaking of art, the ost is fantastic, really perfect ambiance as well as tracks that convey the feel of each route, like, i'd call them each uniquely textured in a way perfectly suited to each. i'll probably throw the ost on by itself at some point to try appreciating the music on its own a bit more

overall great game!! im excited to play it again and im curious just how many variations of paths and endings there are!

#baneanswers

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potatotalksculture · 1 year

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Disco Elysium: First Impressions

Within the last two weeks I've finished writing my BA, put together my new gaming PC and caught a cold. So there is no better time than right now to eventually start playing Disco Elysium.

This game has been recommended to my by almost every single person I talk to about games. And the things I knew in advance were: - The art style is impeccable, - There skill tree is rather cryptic for a video game, - You start the game as a character who has no idea what is going on or who he is, - There was a murder.

In the spirit of the completely oblivious main character I decided to go through my first playthrough similarly oblivious i.e. to not google things. This has proven too hard to maintain as soon as I had to assign some points to some traits and got frustrated about not knowing what do all those mean. After struggling for a while, I asked my partner to explain some of this stats to me. After realizing that I can't comprehend them without an indepth discussion about the game, I have simply based my decision on his recommendation to apply 4 to Intellect as well as Psyche and 2 respectively to Physique and Motorics. After going for Conceptualization as my signature skill, because it sounded fun, I entered the story itself.

Playing without googling has its perks. As a pretty unexperienced gaming gal I'm not good at comparing stats or making thought out decisions about skilling up. I usually just go for what's most fun or interesting and then try to do more strategic decision making as I go. This attitude vibes well with Disco Elysium as I stumble through the world having not a clue what is going on. I refuse to remember my name. I refuse to look at the corpse (until I have a good chance of not puking). I leave conversations half baked with intention of returning with some more skill points. I like how the game teaches you about different traits. It makes leveling up way easier for me. ATM I put my skill points in the traits that increase a positive outcome of rolling the dice in a few specific cases. Like opening the Clip Board of the Ledger, cuz I hope my badge is in there. I refuse to call it in that 've lost it. For now...

In the conversation I'm following my gut. My personal gut, not the one of the guy I'm playing as. It's fun. It's super fun. But I'm also happy to know more and then o a playthrough where I follow some animalistic instincts or present more as a Chad-drunk-muscle than a being with the ability to compose coherent thoughts. As a slack off, who asks for money, food and funny stories instead of investigating. But for now, I am a sorry cop. And it's kind of true to my own character. How sad...

I like learning about the world of Disco Elysium. About the internal probably more than about the external. But I guess that is partly the point. My one concern with the dialogue options is the same as with, for instance, Firewatch. Some lines may get slightly different meaning depending on how they are said. While talking with the what-was-his-name racist by the newspaper stand I can answer something like: "I can see what you mean" in an agreeing or judgmental tone. I don't like the uncertainty regarding which one is it in the game.

[edit:] I also refused to barge into the room next to mine, since there was a lady, who I just offended with a very vulgar proposition, taking a shower. I suspect I’m missing something because of that decision.

To be continued...

#personal blog #penny for my thoughts #essay #disco elysium #gaming #gaming gal #firewatch #sorry cop #clip board #ledger #video games

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mjulianwrites · 1 year

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credit to @yvesdot for this template!

happy almost new year! 2022 was the first year in a very long time that i consistently wrote every month, so i'm excited to look back on it! my writing this year was dominated by my latest wip, next day after dawn, including both canonverse content and a lot of stupid au bullshit <3

details under the cut!

january

in january i was still very much in dearer than a friend mode after finishing the first draft in november, but with no progress to make on the book itself i ended up writing some speculative post-canon (and very non-canon) nonsense involving preston getting into a terrible terrible relationship with another man. this one was a collab with @inkgel for which we definitely wrote a sane and normal amount of content

It’s not that he intended for this to happen. But the truth has been bubbling up for so long now, and eroding him a little more each time it does, wearing away at whatever remains of his willpower, his sense of himself, his belief that he has anything left to lose. And he’s already damned. He knows that deep down. He could repent, he supposes. Maybe God would forgive him. But Val won’t. He doesn’t really see the point. And it’s because of that too. Because he’s alone now, in a way he never has been, never could have been for the past eleven years of his life, because he always had someone who was supposed to be his. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to forget it when it feels like a piece of him has been ripped out, leaving a gaping wound that throbs and bleeds and refuses even to begin to heal. So he has to find someone to fill it, even if they don’t fit quite right.

february

in february i was mostly focused on my classes, but that did involve reading paradise lost and briefly getting very fixated on eve. i wrote less than two pages of this, but i was having fun with some dialogue between eve and satan. it was interesting to try to figure out what the pov of someone so ignorant of the world might look like

“Are you an angel?” I ask. That creature that he is talking to as I am talking to you. I do not really know what an angel is. He would not let me listen with him so it could be explained to me. But I know that an angel is something greater than me, and you are greater than me, but you are not Him, so I think maybe that is right. “I was an angel,” you say. “Was?” “I don’t know if I can explain it to you.” I feel something when you say that, something that I have no name for, but I know it is something that is bad to feel. Frustration, I think. I am good at naming things. I am as good as him. Sometimes I wish that He had left some of the animals for me to name too, but that is something that is bad to wish.

march

in march i decided i needed to get out of endlessly spinning dtaf mode. i also read gtn and remembered how much i love ensemble casts. and lo and behold, next day after dawn was born. this was one of the very first scenes i wrote, between mona and her mother austra when mona is (spoilers) experiencing life threatening illness moments. their mother/daughter dynamic is everything to me

“Don’t lie,” she said, and tried not to think about the fact that she sounded more than a little like she was begging. “Don’t—Selene can’t lie for shit, and she told me everything was fine, but she probably just wanted to avoid a difficult conversation, probably thought it was for the best, because she’s an idiot, but if you lie—” The room felt suffocating, stuffy and overly hot. She was suddenly viscerally aware of the sticky dampness of sweat beneath her shirt, and that, somehow, was more overwhelming than the pain that spiderwebbed from her pounding head all the way down her back. Her mother was silent, her face still very nearly impassive, but there was something in the slight furrowing of her brows that Mona thought looked terribly sad. “Don’t you dare,” Mona said furiously. Her eyes were burning. She blinked hard to clear the definitely-not-tears forming there. “Don’t you dare act like I’m going to die.”

april

more ndad snippets! this was from the first full scene i finished, which ended up being prince cyrus' pov of the first night after the coup. he is so mentally ill

Cyrus thought that was a nice enough idea on paper, given the circumstances. But when it became clear that it involved putting on his least comfortable court clothes and shuffling into a musty, overly crowded hall where three scuffed tables and a dozen mismatched chairs had been pushed together in some imitation of a royal banquet, he very quickly began to have second thoughts. Cassandane tried to motion for him to sit at the head of the table when they came in. He sat just to the right of it instead, as he would have if he really had been at court. If the king had been here. But the fact that he wasn’t didn’t make it feel any more right to take his place. So Cyrus didn’t. No one else did either. The chair sat untouched at the front of the room, a ghost in an empty seat. Not a ghost, Cyrus tried to remind himself. Just not here. He would be back soon. They would all be back soon. He couldn’t handle thinking anything else.

may

ndad strikes again! this is going to be most of this. here we have the first darcy pov i wrote, featuring them being sent to woo princess cassandane for prince cyrus and falling head over heels in love with her themself. (take a shot every time someone in ndad has a line about being or not being their father's son)

“I am not a real princess,” she told them after a long moment. “But I am interested in becoming a queen.” She looked one already, Darcy thought. Her eyes were diamond hard, her jaw and cheekbones carved from marble. She could have knocked her father’s statue to the ground and stood on the pedestal in its place and put it to shame. She could have told them to do anything for her, and it wouldn’t have crossed their mind not to obey. She was all that a queen should be. And Darcy was what they should have been. They were not truly the King’s ambassador, nor the Prince’s surrogate. Their loyalty went only as far as their self-interest. They were not their father’s son. But they were, if nothing else, an excellent liar, which was why they could never fully explain the sudden urge they felt to tell her the truth.

june

in june i wrote a short story for a shakespeare-themed horror anthology! it did not get in, but this was my first shot at horror, so i had a ton of fun anyway. i'll probably post this one on ao3 soon -- it's fun little examination of the inherent freakiness of the ending of all's well that ends with, this time with 100% more black magic

Here’s my confession: I don’t love my wife. Confession’s probably the wrong word though. Cause it’s not like I can tell anyone. Everyone around here thinks we got our perfect miracle of a storybook ending, so maybe I’m the one who’s wrong for not wanting it. Maybe I deserve this. My happily ever after. I don’t know how they believe it. Well, they believe it because I said it, I said I love Helen, and the lie came out smoother than it should have, given the circumstances, because God knows I’ve had too much practice. Maybe I sounded like I meant it. What I actually said was that I’d love her forever. I never said I was smart.

july

we're back in ndad land, and oh boy, this was a month. july was the first time i've ever beaten nanowrimo, fully unintentionally, simply because @wren-is-writing and i went fucking insane with the au fanfiction. but the piece that started it all was renan's backstory, aka renan's spiral into destroying every part of himself over his love for a terrible little boyboss war criminal (hi king cyrus). this is the first time the two of them meet, when cyrus is still in his rakish misbehaving prince era. brainworms are found in the gay old men

The others are already drinking deep again, eager to accept another newcomer into their circle for the night, but your mouth has gone dry. It’s almost hard to look at him. It’s harder to look anywhere else. He notices you staring. When he catches your eye, it makes your heart jump into your throat. “What?” he asks. “Something in my teeth?” You’re barely breathing. “Your Highness,” you manage, and you can’t read the look that crosses his face. Hebes slaps his hand down on the table so hard it makes your glass rattle, and lets out an incredulous, booming laugh. “Stars above, Renan, is that Prince Cyrus?” The boy next to you winks and flashes another incandescent grin. “Just call me Cy.”

august

and here we come to just a small selection of the insane au fanfiction wren and i engaged in. not ALL of it was about cyrenan, just most of it. here's some darcy and cassandane in the criminally extensive college au. darcy's pining, what else is new

It would happen, though, they told themself. It would happen eventually. Because she loved them, they were sure, even if neither of them had phrased it that way exactly. They’d as good as told each other more times than they could count. They had always worked that way, reading between the lines but knowing they were on the same page. “You’re brilliant, you know,” they murmured, dropping their voice so low they were sure only she could hear it. Just one more way of telling her. They knew she’d understand. “At dancing or in general?” “Both.” “I do know,” Cass replied. Her slow, curving smile made them flush too much to hide. “I want to do this more often,” they whispered. They risked stroking their thumb lightly across her shoulder, a gesture they hoped was too small to catch. “I want to do this all the time.” Forever wasn’t a word they would pull out in public regardless of how softly they were speaking, but they were sure she got that too.

september

we're back to canonverse ndad, thank god. more backstories! this one chronicles austra's girlbossification, and this moment specifically is right after her daughter mona is born

She’s not going to make it. That’s the first thing the doctors tell you. It’s the first thing the Church proclaims on the matter too. You’re still confined to your hospital room. You can’t witness it pronounced in a chapel or read it in a star chart. You have to hear it from your husband’s mouth instead. His eyes are red. He’s been crying. You haven’t been. You’ll break down when there’s nothing left to fight for, not a moment sooner than that. Your daughter needs surgeries that haven’t been performed in a century. Your daughter has long brown eyelashes that flutter when you kiss her while she sleeps. Your husband tells you that her doom is written in the stars, and he says it like he thinks it’s true.

october

and i actually followed austra's backstory up with castor's, because apparently i spent some of this year being semi productive. castor's terrible little psyche revolves around the fact that his brother (everyone's favourite son) died when he was a teenager and he thinks it's his fault for not being a hardened soldier at 17. here he is trying to be a hardened soldier (it's not going well)

You’re not a natural. You’re not even a hard-won talent. Even when you’re not half sleepwalking, you’re slow, clumsy, unsure. Your sword arm grows sore after barely an hour. The straps of your armour chafe against the skin of your neck and leave it raw. You’ve tried your best, memorized a hundred manoeuvres in sparring sessions, but somehow you still freeze in the field. The first time an enemy makes a swipe for you, you run like a coward. By the fiftieth time, you’ve learned to stand your ground, but you don’t know if your allies feel the difference. At night, every comrade you couldn’t save has your brother’s face. He had scars when he—when you saw him the last time. A barely-there line through his eyebrow, another tiny one on his chin. Your father has the gouged-out pit in his left cheek, the mark that proves he is and isn’t invulnerable. Every time a blade flashes in your face, you wonder if you’ll end up with a matching one. It never happens, probably because you’re too quick to flinch back from the strikes that might get close enough. Your skin remains despicably pristine.

november

wow, a new wip? well maybe. this one is still in very early stages, but i got seized by brainworms consisting of "what if richard and bolingbroke from shakespeare's richard ii were lesbians (and not cousins) and fucking hated each other." also it's the 80s, i think. rielle is our larger than life femme richard who's never met an emotion she couldn't turn into a performance, and the narrator here is jack, butch bolingbroke, who has a lot of daddy issues and hates rielle so fucking much.

Don’t get me wrong. My dad was an asshole. He was a dyed-in-the-wool red-blooded homo-hating bigot and I didn’t shed a tear at his funeral. But he was the kind of asshole where if I called my hair a pixie cut and ditched the Doc Martens for mascara when I came around for dinner, he’d happily keep paying my tuition. He’d even hug me, sometimes. Mostly after Mom died. Both arms around my shoulders, like he meant it. So I had my reasons, basically, for not wanting to publicly tell him to go fuck himself. And even if I hadn’t, she was the last person I owed an explanation. Easy for her to say she’d cut off her parents in a heartbeat when she didn’t have any, just an inheritance ten times the size I was ever getting and a bunch of framed tabloids with pictures of a Rolls-Royce twisted around a lamp post and a cherub of a girl who knew, even at ten years old, how to cry pretty.

december

this past month i've been juggling grad school apps and finals and prepping for my thesis, so i haven't written a ton, but i went back to fun shakespeare fanfiction collabs with @inkgel for a bit! here's me attempting to write julius caesar pov `for our caesar/antony character study that we did after playing those characters on zoom (and playing them as in love, of course)

He could do the same with Antony. Antony wouldn’t make him ask twice for it—wouldn’t make him ask at all, probably, because he is always so delightfully quick to capitulate, all it would really take is a finger ghosted over those plush and slightly reddened lips. But Caesar doesn’t like him to be carved out of marble. He likes it when Antony stumbles, the laugh bubbling up from his throat loose and lazy, the perfect planes of his cheekbones marred with a ruddy flush. When Antony clings onto him, half for balance, half because he’s surely looking for any excuse to. When he hangs on several moments longer than he needs to, his pupils blown, his hair mussed not-quite-artfully, and kisses him with the heady scent of wine still on his breath. Perhaps sometimes he would deign to think he loved it, but it’s been years since that word has been his to offer. These days, it’s only for lesser men to give.

if you got this far, thank you so much for reading! see you all in 2023!!

#my writing #next day after dawn #dearer than a friend #preston young #mona lunares #austra lunares #prince cyrus #darcy mercurialis #princess cassandane #renan mercurialis #king cyrus #cyrenan #castor martis #rielle blanchette #jack livingstone #orphan heir

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wsoupofpain · 2 years

Note

Now that I finished my Danny design, what do u think of the main character redesigns as well as Paulina’s?

YES everyone go look at these right now (Danny / Sam / Tucker / Jazz / Valerie / Paulina)

The short answer is that I love them, you put in a lot of heart, style, and personality while keeping the characters recognizable in a very elegant way. I know you've talked a lot about the thought that went into your design choices already, so I'm just going to go over a few of my favorites

Danny - the little pins on his jacket! the goggles! the platforming on his boots that resemble astronaut tread! the kind of dorky kind of cool kind of both factor of both his short sleeved hoodie and his vest!

Sam - the DRAMA of Sam's outfit! the specific little detail that her boot tread is spikier! the variation in tones of purple so the design flows well without becoming cluttered! the pops of green not just in the skirt but also in the necklace and hairties! the little mole!

Tucker - I like that his color pallet has a lot of his original browns, greens, and yellows, for soothing neutral/earth tones, and that you've switched out the red for a calmer blue; his color pallet has always been my least favorite to work with, and this is much nicer, and lends itself well to the sense of Tucker as the person who most in their trio would be happy with things more mellow and as they were. But he's got his own sense of excited, interests, and quirks too, highlighted in a fun way by his gloves, earring, and hat pins

Jazz - the smart young professional vibes of her tied back hair, collared shirt, clearly attended to nails, and wristwatch are TOP tier. I also like how you swapped her plain BLACK sweater and shoes for a dark teal with some lighter patterning, it keeps her 'visually distinct' canon element while toning down the ways it was a little too striking and drew focus

Valerie - I am captivated by the decision to canonize the curl waves in her hair as actual gray streaks! the CLEAR care and attention of the little details, fashion and status symbols of her outfit! the mix of practicality, access, and fashion! the WARM, sunny look balanced with the very down to earth touches like her sneakers and sweater! the little pops of purple with her nails and lipstick! tight race between Valerie and Jazz as my favorite of your designs tbh

Paulina - the glitter! the little butterfly! the DETAILS of her jewellery! the mole, showing some synchronicity with Sam! i know i said it already but the GLITTER! it's such a lovely look that's a great balance of fashion and EXCESS, while still absolutely looking like something a fourteen year old with a mind for style would put together

Also I mentioned in the previous ask you sent me that I think it's very funny the trio's canon designs are not like. for the same season of the year. so i just wanted to highlight that in your version they are in fact all wearing a long sleeved layer, if a very different one each- they're more in sync but still unique, and likewise Paulina and Valerie are both in short sleeves, and are also both mostly monochrome, coming from the same group; and Jazz, who is in neither of those groups, has three-quarter length sleeves, her own thing.

Also, wanted to say I like that you give Tucker, Valerie, and Paulina brown eyes. Brown eyes rock

#danny phantom #z.txt #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #valerie gray #jazz fenton #paulina sanchez #dnpanimationstudioclone

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bonesandthebees · 2 years

Note

1. My favorite fic of yours

I LOVED clinic, tied for second are 17 hours and the stars and their children!

3. The best character you've written for

it's been said before but Wilbur is your brand! also I love the way you write Techno

6. Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics

your "quick easy breakfast" thing from the authors notes of clinic KEKW - i now have rice with egg and soy sauce regularly (which actually helps me remember to eat - undiagnosed ADHD pog?)

8. What I like the most about your writing

I love the specific voice you use, and your choice of adjectives and grammar! A lot of fics are really good but the authors don't quite have the same linguistic skill you do!

9. A fic i'm excited for you updating/posting

I'm super excited for the rest of stars! I love the political tension and the fact that this is a very new concept (space royalty pog)

11. Something I wish/hope you write

I don't know how much expertise you have in this area or if you're willing to research it but I would love a ballet au, or other dance au! I feel like there's a lot of potential in a modern setting dance studio au, whether it's just the setting for the plot or the plot is centered around dance itself :3

12. A fic of yours that i've re-read

I've read clinic like three times! I love it so much :DDD

13. If i've ever shared/talked about your fic to someone else

OH BOY HAVE I EVER! Every fic I read that I particularly love I talk about to my sibling (the one who finally caved and read 17 hours kekw) and i'll ramble for ages but never do it justice because it's my dodgy memory versus your amazing writing :)

hi crow anon!!!

wow I'm surprised how many people say 17 hours is their favorite fic of mine. I loved it of course because of how cool the concept was and how wonderfully mine and roxy's writing played off of each other, but still never expected so many people to think of it as a favorite so that makes me so happy to hear!!

omg a compliment on how I write techno... tysm I literally am always so unsure in my characterization of c!techno that's why he's my least favorite to write bc I'm just always so worried if I'm doing him justice or not

LMAOOO totally forgot about that time I talked about breakfast in the notes of clinic. tbh I should start making goofy authors notes like that again. also I haven't actually eaten eggs with rice and soy sauce for breakfast in a LONG time. lately my breakfast has been lighter stuff like fruits and cheese, but I kinda miss the rice and eggs so might get back into it (also ADHD pog!!)

that means so much aaa I've worked very hard over the years to develop a specific voice in my writing so I'm really glad it shines through. I know my writing isn't super flowery which is a personal preference of mine, but I'm happy it's distinctive all the same. it takes a lot of years to develop a rhythm with the words and grammar you use when writing, so it just makes me happy to hear someone notices it :)

hehe i'm so excited to update stars. gonna finish the next chapter tomorrow hopefully so maybe it'll be out on monday??

fun fact i literally watch vlogs from ballerinas on youtube all the time (have one open in another tab rn) and I've watched a lot of documentaries on ballet dancing as well (also, I took ballet as a kid but only when I was little and not for very long). I LOVE learning about ballet, but I've always been unsure about making a ballet au solely bc I obviously write crimeboys, but the part of ballet i'm most interested in is dancing en pointe, and men don't usually dance en pointe. I'm still considering researching more into the men's side of ballet, but there's just such a limited number of women on the dsmp that it would be a bit tricky for sure

god rereading clinic 3 times?? that's so long I have so much respect

awww it makes me smile to hear that people talk about my fics to each other :D

ty for this crow anon!!!

ask game!

#crow anon #ask #ask game

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teasty · 3 years

Text

hold on tight || b.c (m)

"hi! can you write something about streetracer!chan x f reader where things got heated up 🥺🥺 i really like your works by the way, kiss yourself really is one of my jisung’s fav fic !!" - anon

a/n: holyashjdljzhldsa just the thought of streetracer!chan makes me... omg i don’t even KNOW, i'd actually go crazy... and omg tysm! that means so much to me :,( and you're gonna have to excuse me since there's so many things heated could mean i'm just gonna make it angsty and smutty,, also kinda went off for a fluffy ending because it's bang chan, the christiano bangnaldo, how can i not???

● pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

● genre: a lil bit of fluff at the beginning | angst | smut (mdi!)

● requested? yes!

● words: 8.7k

→ summary:

You’ve never known about your boyfriend’s secret and very illegal job, if you could even call it that.

"Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight 'cause it's gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling."

It’s a cold, rainy night. You’re waiting comfortably on the couch, sitting there wrapped up in one of Chan’s blankets, waiting ever so patiently for his return. He’s not usually out this late, neither did his job usually end this late. Your mind was getting the worst kinds of ideas as you held your phone in your hand, more worry than anger coming over you. You couldn’t be mad at him, really, you were just worried something happened to him, since he wasn’t picking up your calls or even looking at your texts.

It’s around midnight, and you swore you wouldn’t sleep until you watched Chan, in all his glory, walk through the front door of your guys’s shared apartment. You’ve been dating Chan for years, ever since high school. And, now, even after graduating college and finding a stable job and apartment, Chan still tended to keep things from you. It was a bad habit of his, yes, but you couldn’t really be too mad at him for it. Besides, you’ll be able to help him out of that habit. Once he comes back, at least.

To wait, you decided to watch a bit of television to let your mind wander from the thought of something bad happening to Chan. Of course, the subtle thought of him cheating crossed your mind a few times, but Chan’s only ever been the most loyal and dedicated boyfriend, even past his pretty hard shell. He acts pretty tough sometimes, but you know that he’s just a little bit insecure about himself on the inside. Which, to you, is completely normal. Everyone’s at least a little bit insecure. You couldn’t blame him for that.

Getting with Chan was actually very difficult at first. You both had a rocky start before you started dating, since Chan was kind of like the cliche popular bad boy, and you were the snarky book nerd. You both started off arguing and bickering about everything. But, when you both got closer and closer, you began to see a softer, kinder side to him. And, like magic, you two started dating. You don’t really remember how it happened. It might’ve been just Chan saying, “Wanna date me?” or something like that just ‘cause it’s simple. However, getting it past your parents about your relationship with Chan was the most difficult in the world. They did not approve of him whatsoever. Even today, they’re still cautious of him even though Chan’s already proven his loyalty to you and swore to your parents that he’d never lay an aggressive finger on you.

You’re parents didn’t really like him because of his choice of outfits and friends, which was a stupid way to judge somebody in your opinion. So, no matter how many times they tried to break things off or distance you from Chan, you two always found your way back to each other. Though it was fun, all the sneaking out at three in the morning, saying you’re going over to a friends house when you’re really going to go see Chan and all the late night calls in a hushed tone, you’re glad you can finally relax about it and live peacefully with Chan without the need to sneak around.

But, your mind hasn’t been so peaceful these last few hours. There’s still no sign of Chan and no opened messages. You gave up on calling him after the fifth call had gone unanswered, and just decided to wait. Clutching your phone to your chest in case he were to call or text. Your eyes switch between the screen and the front door (which led into the living room).

You nearly jumped out of your blanket when your phone started ringing obnoxiously loud. Your heart beat loudly as you scrambled to look at the caller’s I.D. And, thankfully, it’s Chan. You’ve never answered so quickly.

“Chan?” Your excited voice squeaked out when you brought the phone close to your ear, a bright smile etching over your lips. Just happy that he’s in contact with you.

“Hey, darling,” Chan’s voice was husky and tired, and a little deeper than you remember. He must be exhausted, and you wondered if he had to stay late at work, “I’m so sorry for being out late. I’ll be home soon.”

“Alright… Is everything okay? What were you doing out so late?” You ask carefully, wrapping the blanket tightly around you.

“Work. My boss had me work over time. I would have texted you, but I was pretty busy,” in the distance, you can hear the sound of his car’s engine. He must be driving pretty fast. Chan also has a really nice car he saved up for and worked really hard for. It’s a smaller, good looking and really, really fast car. You could recognize that engine anywhere.

“Oh… I’m sorry about that,” You respond after a moment.

“It’s alright. Nothing to worry too much over,” you can hear Chan’s smile even through the phone, “And, by the way, could you do something for me before I get home?”

“Sure.”

“Could you make me something small to eat? I didn’t have the chance to eat dinner at work. If you could do that, that’d be so great, baby.” Chan says, and you get up off of the couch. Already heading for the kitchen.

“I could make you some jjajangmyeon? We have all the ingredients,” you say, surfing through your pantry.

“That’d be great, (Y/N). Thank you,” Chan sighs through the phone, and you pull out the ingredients.

“Of course. When will you be home?” You ask before he could hang up.

“I’ll be home in the next ten to fifteen minutes, at the least.” He says, and you can hear the engine get a little bit louder behind him, “I have to focus on the road. I’ll be home soon. I love you, baby.”

“Love you, too, Chan.” You respond, and hang up. Now with the satisfaction and the relief of knowing Chan’s coming home, you separate the ingredients out and start cooking (thank god you took that home economics class back in high school. You couldn’t cook for shit before that). Since Jjajangmyeon is a pretty slow cooked dish, you try your best with temperature control to fit it into the timeframe for when Chan gets home, wanting it to be ready for him.

You had your hair tied back as you cooked, occasionally looking up to watch the television, which was still on the random news channel from before. It talked about things you weren’t too interested in, so you only kept it on for background noise.

You were so immersed in cooking, you didn’t even notice the door slamming open and closed and a pair of heavy footsteps walking up to the kitchen. You jumped when Chan’s arms wrapped around your waist, his chin planting itself on your shoulder. He laughs tiredly at your reaction, and you turn to give him a subtle glare, but your smile deceived you.

“Hey, baby. I’m sorry for coming home so late. I promise it wasn’t my intention,” Chan grumbles out, his words low and slightly slurred, mostly because he’s tired.

“It’s alright, don’t apologize,” you chuckle softly as you arrange two portions of the jjajangmyeon into two different bowls. Chan watches silently over your shoulder, “I’m just glad you’re home. You worried me. Please text me next time, before you stay overtime and don’t bother texting me. I worry a lot, you know?”

“I know, (Y/N). I know you worry too much for your own good,” Chan smiles softly, chuckling tiredly, “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”

You smile, flustered, and raise a warm hand to press against Chan’s cheek, turning your head to press a loving kiss to his temple, which is cold, even in the warm kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to eat in bed?”

“Not if you’ll make me do the dishes directly afterwards,” Chan lets go of you to take his dish, and you take yours.

You cock a brow at him, “I was going to make you do them anyways. You’re not getting out of it that easily.” You giggle and tap his nose with the tip of your finger. “Come on. Take mine, too. I’ll shut everything down.” You hand your bowl to Chan, who takes it quickly as you scurry around, turning off the television. Turning off lights and putting the dishes in the sink.

Once Chan’s changed into more comfortable wear and you’re both comfortable in bed, watching some show on the TV while eating. Time at home was usually like this; relaxing. You’re cuddled up to Chan while he ate slowly. Once you both finished, you placed them on the nightstands for the time being.

Chan was asleep instantly. You were up a bit longer, still a bit run on adrenaline from worrying so much earlier, despite knowing you have to be up early for work. Chan didn’t have to work till the afternoon, but you had to be up early since you’re a librarian at the local public high school. Chan’s an assistant producer and works under a decently big entertainment company. It’s quite the drastic difference, but you being a pretty big book worm yourself, you decided it would be fun to be a librarian (mostly using your literature degree), even if it’s stressful at times. Chan’s work, however, is much more tedious than your own. Where you can usually go at your own pace, he has more strict deadlines and sometimes more difficult work.

So, you let Chan sleep on your stomach. His arms wrapped around you securely as his face nuzzled into the soft fabric of the oversized shirt you were wearing. You were up a bit longer, watching the TV while running your hands through Chan’s soft hair. Enjoying the moment for the time being before you, yourself, drifted off into a deep sleep.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were the first one to wake up the next morning, per usual. You woke up to your alarm that Chan thankfully slept through. You got ready as quickly and quietly as you could. Since you work in a pretty professional environment, you wear something modest, but fits well with the fall weather and your fashion style. You wore a white long sleeved shirt and a pair of black slacks under a jacket with your university’s logo on it and a pair of sneakers. They weren’t too big on dress code for the teachers at the school, but the students still had to wear uniforms.

Before you left, you made Chan lunch for the day and yourself a lunch. You even bothered to wake him up briefly to give him a kiss goodbye and that you’ll be back early afternoon, although he’ll probably be at work, then. Chan, although three fourths asleep, gave you a tight hug and a kiss with a slurred ‘Love you’ before plopping back onto the bed and instantly falling back asleep.

Although Chan had quite the expensive car, he wasn’t quite fond of you driving it. You have your own car, and it’s fine. Mostly used to drive to and from work and nothing more, since most other things you were with Chan, so you both usually took his car. It’s not so much a matter of richer and poorer, his car just had more little trinkets and things that are just more convenient. You’re not completely sure what model his car is, all you know is that it’s expensive.

The school isn’t too far. It’s actually a ten minute drive from your apartment. You have to make it there pretty early, so the roads aren’t jam packed like they would be when Chan has to drive to work. So, you have a bit of an advantage there. When you get there, you’re met with the people in the front office, who bow respectfully to you, and you make your way to the library.

You set up at the large, round desk. You especially like being a librarian, because it’s quiet. You don’t think you’d do too well as a teacher, so you settled for a librarian since it was a good and easy way to use your literature degree and put it to good use, other than the fact you’re writing a novel, but that’s a whole other story (hehet).

It’s about half an hour before some students pile in, bidding you good morning and sitting down at the tables to study for whatever assignment or test they have, or to finish homework. Some of them go around to look at books, but most just sit by their lonesome and work on whatever while blasting profane music into their poor ears.

You were busying yourself going through overdue books, and emailing parents about student’s overdue books. You were immersed in your work, so you were somewhat shocked when someone tapped your shoulder. When you turned, you were met with the smiling face of your coworker. A middle aged, pretty woman named Jung Migyeong, who gave you the permission to call her ‘unnie’. She’s considerably your work - best friend. She’s the only person who really delved into conversation with you, unlike most of the other teachers who only talked to you about whatever book they’re class reading or for book suggestions (and you just choose the first book in the library that comes to mind).

“Oh, you scared me!” You giggle in a hushed tone, and Eunmi smiled brightly, her motherly aura giving you a sense of calmness.

“Sorry, sorry!” Eunmi sits on your desk, more leaning against it. Eunmi is really a pretty lady. Her hair is cut short to her shoulders, and she never wears makeup. Her natural tone is without blemishes or acne. She always wears pretty dresses to work, and she always carries around her purse for some odd reason. “I wanted to catch up with you. I didn’t realize you were so immersed in your work. I should’ve known, you’re more responsible than half the teachers here.”

“I try, I really do,” You respond, leaning back in the chair and smiling up at her, “Do you have a free period for the first hour?”

Eunmi nods, “Yes, I do. They switched it up just ‘cause of something wrong in the student's schedules. But, that’s past the point. How have things been going? In the home life?”

You shrug a shoulder, your smile dropping, “It’s… going. My boyfriend didn’t come home until, like, twelve - thirty last night. He said he had to stay late for work, but I don’t get it, Eunmi. He wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, and I don’t think his job prevents him from at least opening a text until he gets off, you know?”

“You said he’s a producer, right?” Eunmi asks, her head tilting down to look at you more clearly. You nod, “Well, he might’ve been busy with the idol. It’s pretty difficult work, I’m surprised he’s been able to keep up with it well.”

“Well, he came home hungry and tired,” you sigh again, “Which is weird because if he stays late he usually grabs something from the kitchen at the company building or fast food and eats it before he comes home. But, he was hungry… not super hungry, but I made him jjajangmyeon.”

"Jajangmyeon?" Eunmi’s head tilts, and one brow lifts and she scoffs, “That’s like a fifty minute dinner.”

“Not if you toy around with the temperatures, no,” you smile, and Eunmi shrugs a shoulder, “Eh, I was the one who suggested it to him. It’s one of his favorites, and he sounded exhausted and overworked so I though, you know, might as well. But, after eating, he was out like a light. You wouldn’t think that producing would make someone so tired.”

“You never know,” Eunmi reassures, “You seem to be really worried about this. You don’t think he’s cheating, do you?”

You quickly shake your head, “No, no! I know him, and I know that he would never do that to me. I think he’s just trying to hide something from me. I’m not mad at him, I just don’t want him to keep anything from me.”

“You’re not mad… yet!” Eunmi corrects, and your lips purse, “If he’s really hiding something from you, it must be pretty big. I would personally be surprised if you were able to keep your temper if you found out whatever it is he’s hiding. Cheating or not.”

You’ve never really been one to get extremely mad or even start arguments. As said before, you and Chan did have petty arguments back in high school, but since then, you’ve both matured. Chan always shut down a fight if you were getting too agitated, and you were usually never the first one to start up an argument, since your patience isn’t as thin as before. You will admit, though, you’d be decently upset if you found out Chan really was hiding something from you. You trust him so much, you thought there should’ve been nothing to hide.

“I suppose you’re right,” you lean your head against your hand, resting your elbow on the desk, “If there’s a good chance, I’ll talk to him about it tonight. If I want things to really work out with him, then there has to be complete trust and honesty with each other.”

“That’s the spirit,” Eunmi proudly says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with him, unnie,” you admit shamelessly, and Eunmi smiles wistfully, “I want to grow old with him. But I don’t want to live waking up every day at four in the morning and coming home to no one for hours on end. And, sometimes he won't come till midnight or morning.”

“Well, my husband and I used to have a lot of secrets, too. That we kept from each other,” Eunmi admits, reassuring you that you’re not the only one going through something like this, “The only way we were able to sort things through was by sitting down and talking to each other. Just telling all of our secrets to each other, even if they’re embarrassing or stupid. Just knowing the fact that we can trust each other with everything gives us that reassurance that we’re meant to be. Honesty is everything.”

You look down, thinking about the advice Eunmi had just given you, and you swallow down the growing lump of frustration in your throat, “Thank you for the advice, unnie. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course. I’m always free to talk, and you have my number if anything happens,” Eunmi smiles fondly, “And my doors are always open to you. I’ve spoken to my husband about you and he said that he’s always willing to keep our doors open. Just in case anything happens. You can’t be too careful, right?”

“Right,” you smile, flustered by Eunmi’s kindness, “Thank you so much. I’m… you’re right. If the worst of the worst happens and I’m booted out of my own apartment, then I’m at least glad to know that there’s some place I can go to that’s not three cities over.”

Eunmi laughs softly, and you laugh along with her, “I’m glad. Anyways, it’s about that time. I’m going to start heading back to my classroom. Let Chan know that I said hello, and that I wish you both well. Good luck, (Y/N).”

“Thanks, unnie. I’ll call you later,” you wave briefly as Eunmi makes her way out of the library, students bowing briefly to her as she passes.

You’re glad to have a friend like Eunmi. You’re lucky to have someone open their doors to you. Sometimes, you wonder if Eunmi views you as a younger sister, since she constantly rambles on and on about how she loves being called unnie or noona by her younger coworkers, even if she’s among the younger teachers. She’s like the sister you’ve never had. Sure, things had to be professional, but you’d like to spend more time with her out of the workplace. That would be fun.

The rest of the day is pretty slow. You had a few classes come in to pick up literature books, math books and to check out some books, but that was really it. You didn’t see Eunmi again, and left a few hours after the school closed. There was a bit of traffic on the way home, but it was mostly cleared up.

When you got home, you weren’t surprised to be met with an empty house. No sign of Chan, except the lunch you made him was gone, meaning he took it with him, thankfully, and he left a cute little note on a sticky note saying his thanks to you for making it for him. Which he usually did for you (you never bothered to throw them away. You actually kept them all in a little cigar box for safekeeping. Why? You didn’t know. You just felt like it.)

Like every day when you come home, you change into a pair of more comfortable clothing, which was just one of Chan’s hoodies you took out of his side of the closet, and a pair of ripped jeans. Since Chan didn’t do the dishes before he left, like you thought he would, you decided to do them to pass the time. In doing so, you turned on the TV for some background noise as you rolled up your sleeves to start scrubbing the dishes.

However, your attention was soon caught by the TV when the regular news anchor started talking about crime. At first, it was just about a robbery that took place in uptown, and that didn’t really suit your interest. What did catch your attention, enough to turn off the faucet and ignore the dishes to watch the TV, was when an all - too familiar black car with tinted windows and no license plate appeared on the screen, and there was a red car, too, but you didn’t recognize that one.

You turned up the volume, “Today, police are trying to look for these cars with no license plates caught on camera last night. They were suspected to be illegally street racing and gambling last night at around eleven o’ clock at night before being caught on security footage of a hotel nearby. If you can identify these cars, please contact the police immediately. One has been identified as a black Ferrari SF90 Stradale. The other has yet to be identified. If you see anything suspicious on the streets, please contact authorities. Here’s a clearer picture of both cars.”

And, that’s when it sparked you. One of the pictures of the black Ferrari was of the front. Despite the tinted window, you could clearly see a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the mirror and a familiar hand gripping the wheel tightly. How could you recognize it? Despite the low quality, you can see a familiar ring on the middle finger. A celtic design Chan loved so much.

“Oh… my fucking god,” your mouth drops open as realization hits, and you immediately dash to the bedroom to yank open Chan’s dresser drawer, one left vacant for paperwork to “keep things safe”, and you pull out his insurance for his car. And, there it is, in plain sight. Ferrari SF90 Stradale. Color; black. Windows; tinted. At first, shock pools through you. Doubt climbing up. There’s no way Chan’s a criminal. There’s no way that he’s the one in the Ferrari. It has to be someone else.

But, there was only one way to find out. You had to be sure it was him.

So, you grabbed your purse and your keys and threw on a pair of slip - on vans. The sun was already setting, and you nearly forgot to lock up before running to your car. Barely unlocking it before you throw yourself into it, not even bothering to buckle your seatbelt before driving off to god knows where. Your gut leading you, immediately driving towards the area shown on the news. You pull out your phone, trusting the wheel in one hand as you pull up Chan’s profile and call him, pressing the phone to your ear.

The ringing carries on and on until the familiar voice of Chan speaks up, telling you that he’s not available and to leave a message after the beep.

“Oh, fuck off!” You scream at your phone before trying to call him again. Again and again it led to voicemail. Voicemail after voicemail. You couldn’t text him, not with you driving.

After the tenth call, you let out a frustrated yell, hitting your wheel with your palm and trying your best not to cry. You might be overreacting, since there’s a large chance that it isn’t Chan. But, for some reason, you believed it. You believed, at least somewhat, that it was Chan’s car. That it was Chan in the car. You didn’t want to believe it, but you did.

And your questions coursing through your mind were soon answered when you pulled up to the spot from the news, it now twilight, the sun just being set over the city’s horizon. You pulled onto an empty freeway, and parked in an alley between two buildings. There’s a group of people and a ton of expensive cars around the freeway. There were people crowded around a table. Some girls sat on top of cars, talking and laughing to each other while wearing vulgar and revealing clothes. Your brows furrow, deciding to stay low for a while. You turn off the engine to your car and watch carefully, gripping your phone in your hand. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, popping beer bottles, laughing and talking amongst themselves.

But, it’s when the sound of a loud engine came into earshot, and everyone, including you, turned to see the source of the sound. The moment the crowd of people see who it is, they start to cheer loudly. Throwing up their hands. However, your mouth falls open once more as the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale with tinted windows and a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the rear - view mirror. It pulls up to the crowd, and they all part to make way for it.

Instead of shock or sadness, anger and rage begins to boil inside of you, and you grip your steering wheel tightly as you watch Chan, Christopher Bang, step out of the car. People pat his shoulder, and he smiles widely at them. Giving a few people hugs and even smiling to some of the women, who tried to steal a hug from him, too. He’s wearing clothes you don’t ever remember seeing. He wears a black leather jacket over a white button up and black skinny jeans. You’d be impressed by how good he looks if you weren’t so upset.

You didn’t even have to look at your phone as you pulled up Chan’s profile and called him, pressing the phone roughly to your ear.

“Pick up… Pick the fuck up,” you grumble under your breath as you watch Chan. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at it briefly.

Not even hesitating to hang up.

As you heard the familiar sound of Chan’s sweet voice telling you he’s not available at the moment and to leave a message after the beep, you finally have enough courage to get out of your car. Slamming the door shut and making your way out of the alley. They’re not too far, but it's a long enough walk for you to catch the eye of some people. You don’t even pause to rethink your decisions when a girl taps the chest of one of the guys, who glares at you with a raised brow.

The man that glared at you stepped away from the crowd, and you could barely see Chan over the people. He walks over to you, and you stop when the man is right in front of you, peering down you. The smell of cheap beer oozing off of him.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Chan’s girlfriend, now get the fuck out of my way,” you try to push past him, but he grabs you by the arm. Tightly, too. Probably tight enough to leave a bruise after a while. “Hey! Let go of me.”

“No can do, princess,” the man says, smirking mercilessly down at you, his grip not loosening one bit, “Whether or not you’re Chan’s bitch doesn’t matter to me. It’s either you leave or I take you home and we have a good time. Well, I will, at least.” So, you tried to yank your arm from his, trying your best not to use your free hand to punch him in the face.

“Where’s Chan? Bring him to me.” You demand, and the man scoffs, chuckling.

“Fine, have it your way,” the man turns his head towards the crowd, a few people watch, and he says, “Grab Chan. This chick says she’s his girlfriend.” A few of them laugh at him, thinking it’s a joke. But, you stand your ground, glaring through the crowd. One of the people that laughed pushed through a few people. It takes a minute, and there’s a tense silence between you and the man as you try to pry his hand off.

But, as you suspected, a smiling Chan pushes through, but his smile instantly drops when he sees you.

“Hey, Chan. This chick’s babbling on about being your girl. Should I kick-”

“Get your hands off her right now before I shoot you in the face.” Chan interrupts, anger lacing his dark, deep voice. The man holding your arm instantly lets go and steps away, his hands rising in defense. Mumbling something about just ‘trying to keep things safe’. Once the man is away, Chan walks up to you, now being the one tightly gripping your arms. Leaning down so his face is close to yours.

“Why are you here, (Y/N)? Why the hell are you here?” He asks harshly, his voice full of surprise and desperation. He even shakes you slightly.

“You seriously thought I wouldn’t find out?” You snap, ignoring his question all together, “You thought I was dumb enough to let this go under? Well, I’ve been dumb for too long, Christopher. I’m not going to be like that anymore.” You know he’s not too big a fan of being called by his real name, but you do it anyway.

“Go home (Y/N). I’ll explain everything to you afterwards.” Chan says, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you away.

“No!” You yell, pushing his arms off you, “I am not going home, Chan! I am staying with you. I need to know what the hell all of this is. Right. Now.” You demand, and Chan shakes his head.

“No. You’re going home, (Y/N),” Chan tries to push you away again, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly and trying to turn you from the curious crowd. However, you weren’t going to be let off so easily. You swiftly turned around, letting your flying hand come in contact with Chan’s cheek. Smacking him. You made sure not to backhand him, knowing how much that could hurt. Besides, you don’t want to hurt him too much, you just want to get your point across, and he wasn’t listening to your words. He lets go of you again, his head flinging to the side because of the impact.

“I said no. I’m staying here,” You repeat yourself, and Chan’s eyes no longer lace with aggression, but worry. He doesn’t seem upset that you hit him. In fact, he seems to gloss over it. “I need to know what’s going on-”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence until Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into the crowd. They part to make way for him, and you aren’t able to muster out a sentence before Chan unlocked his car and shoves you forcefully into the passenger seat.

“Chan, what -”

“Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight ‘cause it’s gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling,” Chan snaps, and your lips clamp close at his harsh words. You didn’t expect that out of him. You could nearly cry right there. Chan backs away and slams the door shut, and you quickly scramble to put the seatbelt on as Chan yells something at the crowd, and they erupt in cheers. A few people scramble to get into different cars, and the rest stay back, keeping their distance. However, Chan didn’t seem too pleased as he walked around the car and into the passenger’s seat, locking the doors.

“Chan…”

“Quiet,” Chan snaps, revving the engine of the car. You can faintly hear the cheer of the onlookers behind as Chan pulls alongside the other three cars. A young woman wearing small shorts and an exposed shirt too small for fall walks ahead, and pulls a red cloth out of her back pocket. Her red lips smile bright as she lifts her red cloth. She holds up one finger, and Chan’s engine growls from behind, the car shaking along with it. Your hands go to grip the first thing, which is the cup holder in the center console and the door. Bracing yourself for what’s about to happen.

“Chan!”

“I said quiet!” Chan yells, sparing you a glance and your brows creased with worry as the woman holds up a second finger, and Chan’s hand grips the wheel as the other rests over the buttons.

She doesn’t hold up a third finger. Instead, she throws down the red cloth, and the moment she does so, Chan is off on the road. His foot slammed against the gas as he pushed his back against the seat and used one hand to effortlessly steer. You feel so impossibly scared in the car. A small part of you was debating whether or not you should have gone home, but you knew that it was the right decision to stay. To truly understand what’s been going on and what this is all about.

You try your best not to scream as the loud engine nearly bursts your eardrums.

“Chan… Chan, stop the car!” You scream, the need to vomit creeping up, even though you try to gulp it down.

“I can’t, (Y/N). I really can’t right now.” He says loudly over the engine.

“Please, Chan, just stop the car…!” You yell out again, and Chan finally glances at you, seeing your distressed look before his head snaps ahead again.

His hand swiftly reaches over to grip your thigh, as if trying to prove that you’re secure, “Calm down, (Y/N). You’ll be fine. We’re fine. I’m not stopping the car. Sorry, but I just can’t.”

“I should hate you for this, Chan!” You say, and you can see the way his knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel. “But I can’t… I just… Goddamn it, why!?”

“I can’t tell you that right now!” He yells back, looking over briefly before making a sharp turn, making you clutch onto the seat belt for protection, his hand now back over the buttons, “You just need to sit there until this is over, got it? I don’t care how scared you are, you’re gonna get through it like the strong woman you are, (Y/N), and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You look over to Chan, and his lips are downturned, his brows furrowed and his eyes glossed over, as if he could cry right there.

“But why didn’t you just tell me?! We wouldn’t be like this right now if you just told me, Chan, and that’s the truth.” You yell over the engine, and Chan bitterly and breathily chuckles, shaking his head as an angry smile casts over his lips.

“You wouldn’t have stayed with me if I told you, (Y/N), you know that.” His voice is a little softer. If any softer, you wouldn’t have heard him. “You would’ve left me.”

Your mouth falls open, and you shake your head, “Never… Never! Never, ever, accuse me of that. I would never leave you even if you killed a man, Chan, and that’s the truth!” He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns another sharp corner, and you can see the other cars following behind, closing in. He sees it, too, and he presses some buttons you didn’t bother reading and slams his foot on the gas again. You let out a deep breath, still clutching the seat belt, “I just want to know why, Chan. Why are you resulting to this even though you have a stable job at the entertainment company, I-... I just want you to be honest with me.”

“I’ll tell you later, (Y/N). Just sit tight and keep your mouth shut. I need to focus or we’ll fucking crash, you got it!” He yells, and you flinch at his harsh tone. Finally keeping quiet.

The race seems like it lasts forever, when it was probably only five minutes. With sharp twists and turns and screeching of the engine in wheels, it feels like torture. You hate this, but there’s no backing out yet.

Chan doesn’t utter a word. Only cursing at the other cars when they do something that they weren’t supposed to do, or somehow start catching up to him. You let a few tears slip as you watch his hands and Chan as he focuses solely on the road. The lump in your throat is growing bigger and bigger, and swallowing it down seems to get more and more difficult.

But, it’s over at some point. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Chan finally slowed down after reaching a pathetic excuse of a finish line. Your trembling hands grip the hem of the hoodie you were wearing as Chan comes to a steady stop. People come cheering as the other three cars pull up behind, being careful not to bump into anyone from the crowd. You breath heavily, and look over to Chan, who rolls down his window, plastering a triumphant smile on his lips.

“I don’t even get why I race against you, mate. You always win. Just take the money and get outta here,” says one of the racers playfully, tossing Chan a briefcase through the window.

“Thanks man. Good race,” Chan says, “Now, I have business to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.”

He rolls up the window, and the man who handed Chan the briefcase smacks the window playfully as Chan rushes off, his smile instantly vanishing as he goes through backgrounds to try and get to a main road without drawing too much attention. Chan’s smile drops, and he hands you the briefcase.

“You want to know so badly? Open it and be careful. It’ll be hell to clean up if you drop it,” Chan grumbles, looking over as you look to him for reassurance. He only gives you a cocked brow as you look back to the case in your lap before unlocking it and opening it. Your jaw falls as you look at the thousands of bills stacked on top of each other, rubber bands holding equal stacks together, and you gawk at just how much money Chan won from one race.

After a minute of you staring at the money, Chan slams the case closed in your lap, locking it with one hand and tossing it in the backseat making you jump at how hasty he is.

You both sit there, Chan driving to god knows where in tense silence. You're holding your head in your hands as Chan shifted his gaze between you and the road.

It’s about fifteen minutes until you look up, surprised that he’s still driving and nowhere near home. It’s an emptier city, but Chan seems to know the area well.

“Chan, where are we?” You ask, but Chan gives no answer. Only driving a bit further before pulling into an alley between two old buildings. “Chan, I said -”

You were quickly by Chan yanking off his seatbelt and leaning over the center console to firmly grab your face and pull you into a rough kiss. It isn’t too rushed, but it’s not at all gentle. You’re caught by surprise at first, but couldn’t help melting into it. It’s almost instinct at this point to kiss him back, but you push him away after a moment. “What… What the fuck are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Chan answers briefly before grabbing locks of your hair at the back of your head and pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping down to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you let it slam against the car as it flies off you.

“No, Chan… We need to talk,” You grumble out as you try to pull away, and he presses wet, sloppy kisses to the side of your mouth. His eyes are fluttered shut, and your’s are half lidded. You will admit, you love this. The kisses and how unnaturally aggressive Chan is being. But, you knew that you have to talk things out, or you’d never get to figure out how the hell things turned out like this, “Chan, I’m serious right now.”

“Then relax, baby,” Chan breathily whispers out, and your thighs squeeze together, “Let me make things up to you, okay? I’ll fuck you so good, baby.” He pulls away for a moment, and he stares at you with a teasing smirk, “Think of it as my apology, alright?”

“Chan, I’m… I’m - ah! Chan!” You gasp when Chan’s lips come in contact with the side of your neck. Your neck is already tilting to give him more room, despite trying pathetically to push him away. There’s no getting through to him anymore. You’ve passed the point of no return, and there’s not much you could get past him without slapping him again. And that didn’t seem like a very good idea to you. Your hand flies up to grip the back of his neck, the other loosely clutching the hem of his button up.

“You know that… ah… that we are going to talk about this at some point…” you groan out, and Chan only groans against your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. “You can’t get out of it like this…”

“Shut it, (Y/N),” Chan snaps, and your head falls back. Chan leans his seat back, aggressively grabbing you by the thighs to pull you over and sit on top of him. Straddling his waist despite it being such a tight environment. He pulls you down by the hoodie, into another kiss. You could feel how frustrated Chan is by the way he grips you tightly, as if you’re going to magically vanish, and by how he talks to you.

It’s rushed, too. Chan is impossibly quick to pull up your hoodie, his hot, sweaty hands creeping up your warm back, caressing it with a different, quick sense of gentleness. His lips connect with yours once again. His tongue already pressing against your lips. The quick, sloppy kiss all too lust filled. The erotic sounds coming from the both of you almost making you gloss over the fact that you should still be very mad at Chan. But, you just can’t find the need to pull away from him. You need to let off the steam, too.

You flush your body firm against him, one hand on his chest and the other by his head, holding onto the head of the seat for support. Breathing as slowly as you can through your nose to savor the air Chan so selfishly takes from you from the heated kiss. Your thoughts begin to vanish and your worry and concern for Chan’s life choices begin to falter for the time being. So immersed in the heated kiss to forget about it entirely. All your focus is now on Chan. You can tell how stressed he is, and the loving part of you wants to help him let off that steam. But, now, you’re in the same boat. So, he’s going to have to do so much for you as you’ve been doing for him.

Chan’s hands don’t bother to hesitate before they loop underneath your jeans, not caring to unbutton them as he tries his best to pull them off by himself. Because of how restricted you both are because of the size of the car, you had to do it yourself. You parted from the kiss and pressed your head against his shoulder to unbutton your jeans and pull them down as quickly as you could before throwing them in the back (along with your shoes and socks. You can already see how hard Chan’s gotten as his rough hands massage and knead your ass, only covered by the thin, black cloth keeping you at least somewhat covered. But, if this was like any other time, they’d be gone quicker than you’d imagine.

Your hands fly up again once your pants are thrown to the back, resting on either side of Chan’s head as he grips your hips, grinding your womanhood against his clothed hardon (you’re also clothed, but it’s so wet from your juices that it basically attaches itself to your skin). His head throws itself back, his eyes closing and a pleasure filled smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You press yourself against him, now propped up to be looming over him, sitting on him.

When you do press against him, his head snaps forward again, and his dark eyes glare up at you, “Don’t start getting proud, (Y/N). I’m gonna fucking break you.” His hand crawls up to grip your face in his hand. One of your hands weakly comes up to grip his wrist. His hand moving down to grip your throat, and your lips part blissfully as his fingers press into the sides of your neck, still allowing airflow through you. “Oh, fuck. You like being choked, huh? You like being choked like a slut don’t you?” You don’t answer, too nervous to and too caught up in the pleasure to actually let something other than a moan escape your lips.

“Talk to me, (Y/N). Use your fucking words,” Chan growls, and you swallow. The lump in your throat pressing painfully, yet blissfully against Chan’s hand.

“Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me…” You utter out his name, and Chan’s brow raises. But, he smirks nonetheless and lets go of your neck, and you let out a breath as he undoes his jeans and pulls them down to his feet. His hand palming his clothed cock briefly before pulling it out. His hard dick already leaking with precum.

“Condom…” You mutter, and Chan shakes his head. You look up to him with worry.

“Trust me, baby,” he mutters, and you sigh, leaning against him, pressing your body against his as Chan moves your panties out of the way before he aligns your throbbing cunt with his dick, and slowly pushing himself into you, raw. As his raw cock slowly becomes engulfed by your heat, Chan lets out low groans. Your face nuzzles into the side of his neck as Chan slowly guides you down until you’re sitting on his cock.

At first, he stays there like that. Not moving. You suspect it’s because the sane part of him wants you to get used to the feeling of his cock so deep in you without a condom, but Chan seems to keep you there for a few moments just for the sake of how good it feels without a condom. The way his head is leaned back, his lips slightly ajar and his eyes fluttered shut.

But, it doesn’t last long before Chan’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you up and starts ramming into you. His hips move so quickly, yet so efficiently as he burns your wet walls. You erupt in a series of loud moans, mixtures of Chan’s name and curses spilling out, too. Chan groans sometimes, right next to your ear. The sound of skin slapping against the fabric of Chan’s boxers echoing through the air tight car.

Your pussy burns from how fast Chan thrusts into you, keeping you at a steady position so he could have an easier time ramming himself into you without the difficulty of it being such a confined and restrictive place in the car (especially in the driver’s seat). The burn is so good for you, though. It’s such a numbing, euphoric feeling that you’ll crave later. A type of burn you could never provide yourself, only Chan.

Chan’s hands go from gripping your body to sliding up your side to gripping your hair and yanking your head back so he could look at you. A judgemental, sexy smirk adorning his lips as he sees how fucked out you are. Your mouth open as you moan, and your half lidded eyes occasionally closing from the bliss.

“Fucking hell… you’re so good for me, (Y/N). You take my cock so fucking well, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan as Chan’s hand grips harder on your hair, craning your neck. “Mmm… Baby girl can’t even talk to me… I know I said to shut it…” he laughs darkly through his moans, and your moans get louder when Chan lets go of your hair, letting your face fall back onto his shoulder as his hands grip your ass. Kneading them as he fucks himself into you. You clench helplessly around his cock.

“Oh… fuck, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? You wanna cum around my cock, baby girl?” You nod frantically, your climax climbing up as you push your body back to meet with Chan’s aggressive thrusts. Your overstimulated cunt only being destroyed by Chan’s cock as he thrusts harder into you, his hips staggering slightly as you clench around him. “Mmm! - Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Chan growls out as his hand grips your face again, forcing your head up as your eyes roll into the back of your head, a loud string of moans escaping your lips as you cum all over Chan’s cock, and he pulls out just quick enough to spurt out a string of cum along your ass.

He lets go of your face, and you breath heavily as you rest your head on Chan’s chest, closing your eyes to catch your breath. A burning sensation still resting in your core as you relax, your womanhood’s muscles contracting every now and then from the orgasm.

Chan cleans you both up with a napkin he had in the center console and helped you put your jeans back on (deciding to toss your soiled panties) and he slipped his jeans back on silently. It’s not until you’re sitting on his lap, resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat when he speaks.

“You know I love you so much, right?” Chan mumbles out, and you look up to him. “I was so mean to you today… when you must’ve been so confused.” His head falls back, and he looks out the window with a longing look in his eyes, “I’m the worst boyfriend in the world, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. Don’t even think things like that. Yes, I am still a bit upset, but you know what? We’re going to get past this because I love you, too, Channie.” You stare at him with an adoring expression adorning your sparkling eyes (trying to ignore the burning in your core).

“You… You want to know the real reason I’m a street racer, (Y/N)? Why the fuck I'm doing this?” Chan asks softly, his hand stroking your hair.

“If you could… I’ve been asking all day,” you chuckle softly, and Chan smiles bitterly.

“Well… I… I’m doing this all for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“No job will pay for the things I want to give you, (Y/N).” He turns over, reaching into the center console to pull out a black box, and your eyes widen as he opens it. You can’t see it, but you can barely see the sparkle of a something reflective. “I… I couldn’t pay for this myself. I knew I couldn’t. I hate how this is how I’m asking you… but, (Y/N), will you-”

“Oh my god, yes!”

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

All is Fair in Dice and War

***Soooo, @bagelsinatoaster I love this request. However, you didn't specify which board game and as I am a huge nerd I decided to take some creative liberties and combine this with another idea I've been meaning to write which is: MC introducing the demon bros to Dungeons and Dragons. I certainly had fun with this and I hope you like it!*** Summary: Leviathan's world is flipped upside down when MC tells him there is a game that basically allows him to be the Lord of Shadows in real life!! He demands that his brothers join him as MC introduces them all to the chaotic shit show that is Dungeons & Dragons. For once, it was a peaceful day in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer was lounging in the living room with a cursed record playing softly in the background. For once, Satan had willingly joined him and was sitting by the fireplace, thumbing through a book on the human world. Belphie had been passed out on the couch when he arrived and was still laying there with an impressive puddle of drool collecting near his mouth. Even Asmodeus and Beel had joined in, with Asmodeus gently humming to himself as he painted his nails and Beelzebub happily munching on a snack as he enjoyed the sight of his family getting along. Yes. It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, and Lucifer didn't even have any traces of his regular migraine. But of course, nothing good lasts forever. Everyone jumped as the door slammed open and a wide-eyed Leviathan dragged you into the room. The two you very closely followed by Mammon loudly complaining. "Oi! You're gonna hurt them! Cut it out, Levi!" Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, momentarily mourning the peace that he had just barely begun to enjoy, and closed his book. "Leviathan, let MC go. What are you freaking out about this time?" Lucifer regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. Levi looked at it with the expression he only ever got when his limited edition Ruri-Chan merch arrived; his eyes were wide and glittering with excitement while his face bore a grin so large that Lucifer was surprised it didn't rip his skin. The third-born was practically vibrating as he let go of your wrist and pushed you forward. "Tell them! Tell them about the game!"

You laughed at Levi's excitement and casually rubbed your wrist. "I was just telling Leviathan about a game that we play in the human world called Dungeons and Dragons-" "You get to make a fantasy world that everyone plays in, and everyone makes characters. You can be a wizard and cast spells against a huge monster! Or a war hero fighter that has been betrayed by his brother! Or a noble knight who is looking for his lost kingdom! And the best part is that it's real!" Levi interrupted, nearly jumping in place as stars danced in his eyes. You put your hands out towards him to try and calm him a bit. "Well, not entirely real. It is played in person, but it's a role play tabletop game, meaning it mostly relies on the players' imagination. That is unless you have thousands of dollars to spend on 3D maps and figurines of your characters." Levi's eyes grew even wider, if possible, as he started shaking his hands up and down. "I CAN HAVE A FIGURINE OF A CHARACTER THAT I MADE?! GAAAAAAAAAHH!" A pillow flew across the room and hit Levi square in the face as a now awake Belphegor glared at him. "Will. You. Shut. Up?" the Avatar of Sloth hissed as a dark dangerous aura grew around him. Beel gently patted his twin's head in hopes of calming him. Leviathan pouted as he noticed no one else seemed to be getting excited about it. "C-Come on guys! This isn't even a video game! It's a thing that we can all do together and personalize it to be something that everyone will like. It'll be fun! Right MC?" You nodded as you gently tossed Belphie's pillow back over to him. "Yeah. I love D&D. I played it all the time in the human world. There's action, suspense, and even romance if you really wanted it," a couple of the brothers perked up at that. "I could put together a one-shot for you guys to try it out if you'd like? I'll help you make your characters, and we can all get together for an evening and play it sometime in a couple weeks." The room went quiet as everyone thought it over. Most of them had no interest in the game itself, but if it was organized by you... "I'm in," Beel decided with a nod. "I think it will be fun. All of us trying something new; it could be neat." Satan casually flipped a page in his book, "The creative aspect of it is definitely appealing. We'd be the masters of our own fate, and that most certainly piques my interest." Asmodeus smirked as he put the cap on his nail polish. "And you said it could be whatever we want? My, one might say that this game could help our wildest fantasies come true~" he made sure to wink at you as he giggled. Belphie, who had only just got back his pillow, scrunched up his face in disgust and launched it at Asmo. "Don't make this weird Asmo," he looked over at you and shrugged, "So long as you do all the work in putting together the character thing, sure. Why not?" Mammon looked over at you from the corner of his eye. "Ya mean to tell me, that you can make it so I'm some awesome, rich, and powerful prince?" Asmo scoffed as he pushed the pillow off his lap. "Please Mammon, even the world of make-believe has its limitations." Mammon blushed as he growled at his brother. You just chuckled and teasingly elbowed his side. "Don't listen to him, Mammon. There is a set amount of how much money you start out with depending on your class and background, but I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy." The second-born blushed even more as he grumbled quietly under his breath. Lucifer tilted his head in thought. "I suppose that if everyone else is playing, naturally I must as well," he stood and began to make his way to his office. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with MC." The next two weeks were spent planning and carefully figuring out the details of the one-shot and the characters that everyone was going to play. Levi was, of course, the first one who came to you to build his character. The two of you spent hours going through the Player's Handbook and sourcebooks to find the perfect build to recreate the Lord of Shadows. In the end, you put

together a human fighter that you gave a couple magic items to make Levi's vision really come to life. It seemed basic, but for the Lord of Shadows, it was perfect. The moment the two of you finished, Levi dove to his computer and ordered a custom-made mini that looked exactly like his character. Satan was genuinely interested in the game, especially after he learned about all the lore and rules behind the different classes and races. You had just been chilling in your room one day when the door burst open. Satan stood there with wide eyes holding a copy of Volo's Guide to Monsters. "MC, why didn't you tell me there are cat people?!" You chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going. "They're called tabaxi, but yeah, they're basically cat people. Would you like to play as one?" He scoffed and snapped the book shut. "Is that even a question? Of course, I'm playing as one." After some discussion and bouncing back and forth between classes a couple of times, Satan settled on a tabaxi druid; that way he not only looked like a cat, but he could speak to them as well. After a few days of you spending time with his brothers focusing on getting their characters ready, Mammon came to you wanting the coolest, most epic character ever. At first, it was clear that he wasn't fully invested in the process, but as he saw the customizable options and all the cool stuff that his character could have, you got his attention. You ended up designing a golden teifling rogue (you tried to tell Mammon that teifling usually wasn't yellow, but he gave you such a sad look that you couldn't say no) that was decked out with piercings and gems all over its horns and tail. He tried to act like he wasn't that excited about it, but one day during class you caught him doodling what looked like a stick figure version of the character on his sheet with a big smile on his face. Asmodeus came in shortly after Mammon finished,

insisting on having the most charming and beautiful character there was. You tapped your chin at the request. "I mean, stereotypically bards are extremely charming and...well seductive...almost too seductive. But that's only thei-" Asmo had hearts in his eyes before you could even finish. "That's what I want to be!" You sighed and made a mental note not to include any dragons in the session as you marked Asmo down to be an elven bard and helped him create his character sheet. You hadn't heard anything from Lucifer for nearly that entire first week, until one day as you were lounging in the living room, he walked in holding a stack of resource books. "Ah, MC. I've been looking for you. I wanted to inform you that I will be playing a half-elf multiclassing as a paladin and hex-blade warlock." You blinked at him as he put all the books down in front of you. "O-Oh. Would you like help putting together your character sheet?" He just grinned and began to make his way out of the room once more. "I've already done it. I must admit that this was quite a bit more interesting than I thought it would be," and with that he was gone, leaving you to try and figure out what had just happened. With only a few days left until the one-shot, you had to go find the twins and get them to make their characters. Beel apologized like crazy for you having to track him in down in order to get his character made. The poor guy was in the middle of peak Fangol season and had completely forgotten. Once the two of you sat down in the kitchen with an empty character sheet in one hand and snacks in the other, Beel gave you his full attention. He put a lot of thought in his character and wanted to make it really good since he appreciated that you were doing something that they could all do as a family. He bashfully decided to play a halfling. Not only did the little creatures share his love for food, but he thought it would be neat to try being small for once. His class was also a surprise. After carefully flipping through all of the class options, he had eventually settled on a cleric. "They're the healers, right? This way I can help the others if someone gets hurt." You gave him a huge hug then and there. Belphegore, on the other hand, was not so easy to work with. "Belphie, come on. Just flip through the book and choose something!" He groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his side to glare at you. "I told you I would play if you did all the work for me. Me flipping through a book is work. It's not happening." After an entire hour of trying to get him to cooperate, you gave up. In retaliation you made his character a goblin barbarian, just to drive in the fact of how much of a brat he was acting like.

Finally, the day came for you all to play the one-shot, and much like you expected, it was complete and utter chaos. You had tried to maintain some structure and keep everyone on track, but it was hopeless. Levi and Satan were taking the game seriously and, Diavolo bless them, were the only reason their party was making any progress. Mammon was trying to pick-pocket every non-player character that they met while Asmo distracted them by flirting. This worked great for them until Mammon got caught and would've died from the resulting injuries if it wasn't for Beel. Speaking of Beel, the poor fella was trying his best to do well in the game but kept getting confused by all the rules and different stats and modifiers. Belphegor spent most of his time, trying to explain it to his twin, but in the end, Beel accidentally ate his dice and Belphie passed out on his shoulder. And then there was Lucifer. He had been mostly quiet the entire game. Surprisingly, he let Levi and Satan take the charge in any investigations and puzzle-based interactions, but he did so with a smirk. You had a funny feeling in your stomach that he was up to something, and you were right. It was the final boss. Satan and Levi were on the edge of their seats, having worked so hard to get the party to this point. You smiled, knowing that one of the best parts of D&D was finally taking down the big bad. In this case, you had prepared a beholder for them to fight. It would be no easy task. The fight should have required them to work together in an epic battle of wits, magic and melee attacks. Only, when everyone rolled initiative, Lucifer went first. The eldest smiled as his eyes sparked menacingly. "For my bonus action, I'd like to use my hex blade's curse on it, which allows me to add my plus four proficiency bonus to all damage, and makes any rolls of nineteen or twenty critical hits. I will then use my long sword with divine smite at third level to attack him and attack him again using my extra attack," barely giving you time to process what he said, Lucifer rolled his dice twice. "And that would be a nineteen and a natural twenty, meaning they're both criticals due to the curse. That should hit, yes?" "Wha-" You could only watch as Lucifer, now with twice the amount of damage due to his critical rolls pulled out a disgusting number of dice and rolled them all. And of course, with his luck, they all rolled high. "So that's 90 points of damage plus the extra damage from the curse and the bonus from my duelist ability per attack, brings this 102 points," he smugly perched his chin on top of his hands as the table gaped at him. You gulped and looked down at the beholder's character sheet, "Y-You just took o-over half of his hit points in one round..." His grin widened at the information, "What, like it's hard?" You never got the chance to finish the game, as Satan burst into his demon form and pounced on Lucifer, the eldest laughing like a mad man, while Levi tore up his character sheet in a fit of jealous rage. Levi never asked to play with everyone again after that. ***This was just so self-indulgent and I just- I loved it. It combined two of my favourite things and I have never been happier. This was more crack than fluff, but either way, it was fun and I hope you nerds out there enjoyed it 🥰 Thanks again for the request @bagelsinatoaster!*** Taglist: @mimik248 @roseytoesy @ester-is-here

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

Note

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing.

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin. It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

#tma #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic #fanfic to a tea #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #jonmartin #georgie barker #rosie zampano #tma rosie #tim stoker #meet cute #blind date au #this is my love letter to TMA #prompt answer #fanfic prompt

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scented-morker · 3 years

Text

Speak now

A beeping sound echoes in the small bakery, the scent of freshly baked cookies enveloping you like a warm hug. A bell over the door jingles as someone enters the shop and you all out a “I’m in the back, I’ll be with you shortly” as you maneuver the hot pan out of the way.

You walk to the front of the store, expecting to see one of the sweet old ladies who frequent your business, and it’s a struggle to hide your surprise when you’re met with the handsome face of a man about your age.

“Uh hello,” a smile situates itself on your face as you approach where the man is standing, admiring the pastries through your display case.

“Hello” he stands up straight, his full height making you crane your neck slightly as he smiles back at you.

“Is there anything I can help you with today?”

He explains that he's getting a party together for the HYBE corporation's end of the quarter celebration, and is looking for a caterer for desserts.

"Oh, yeah absolutely, why don't I set you up with a tasting"

You weren't completely sure what they did in that building, other than that it was fancy and they got paid a lot for it. But an event is an event, and you liked catering events.

"Actually I think I'm good, I already know what I want"

A jolt of surprise runs through your body as he says it, confused on how he could already know. You're very certain he's never been in your business before, as you would definitely remember a face like his.

"Alright then, um how big of a headcount are we looking at"

"About 100 workers and their families, just put me down for," he glances back at the pastry cases to read the tags sitting in front of the baked goods, "75 of those tarts, both in raspberry and mint, 50 of those vanilla twist pastries, and 60 of the chocolate cannoli's"

You furiously scribbled down his order as he spoke, internally freaking out at how much time it would take you to bake everything, eventually looking back up when he stopped talking.

"Okay and that is under what name, and for what date?"

"Lee Heeseung, and next Saturday"

You grimaced at the short notice, thankfully Heeseung didn't notice, writing down the last bit of information on the order slip before shooting him a wide grin.

"Alright I will get that all worked out for you, thank you for the order"

He flashed a beautiful smile and you immediately smiled back, trying your best to ignore the way your stomach did flips at the sight.

"While I'm here, can I also just get whatever that chocolate thing is in the display case"

He said it with a slightly embarrassed chuckle, followed quickly by "just don't tell my boss, he'll probably give my nutritionist a heart attack"

You laughed with him, going to get the pastry he ordered, ringing it up and passing it over the counter, quickly snapping your hands back into yourself at the brush of his fingers.

Heeseung doesn't seem to notice as he takes a seat at one of the tables, continuing small talk with you as you replace items in the display case with fresh ones.

When you finished your task he was still eating and nobody else had come into the store, so you start wiping down the tables around him, accepting his offer when he asks you to sit with him.

"So you own this place?"

"Yep! It was my grandmas before the previous owner took over, and they just happened to be retiring when I graduated so it got passed down to me"

"That's impressive, owning your own business this young"

His eyes shined genuinely when he said it and you could tell that he really was impressed.

"Thank you, I'm very proud of it"

He smiles again and somehow you just know that he's a good person. The way he actually cares about the things you talk about, not just pretending to be interested. You could tell he loved seeing other people happy with the look he gave you when you talked, and maybe it was unreasonable, but right then and there a part of you fell for Lee Heeseung.

"You seem quite impressive yourself, working for a big fancy company like HYBE at your age!" You complimented back.

"Oh it's nothing, just a," he paused for just slightly longer than necessary before saying "an internship."

"That's still so cool! What's it like?"

You propped your chin on your hand as you waited for his response, not noticing the way he stared when you did so.

"Uh it's really not as cool as you think," he brushes off the question, "hey, do you want to go for a walk with me?"

The change of topic caught you slightly off guard, but you recovered quickly, checking the time on the clock and realizing it was time to close.

"Yeah that'd be great, just let me close up"

You go through the routine, counting your cash box and storing away pastries, eventually locking the door behind you as you and Heeseung head out into the evening.

"Where do you want to go?" You ask, since he was the one that suggested a walk, and he smiled back at you as soon as the words left your mouth.

"I thought you'd never ask"

He grabs your hand, excitedly pulling you to follow him as he passed through alleys and patches of trees, before eventually stopping, letting out a "ta-da"

You turn in a slow circle, taking in the view, willow trees hanging down around the bank of a river, small flowers covering the base of the trees.

"Oh my-"

You finally turned back to the man next to you, finding his sparkling eyes already on you.

"This is beautiful Heeseung"

His smile is bright enough to light up the slowly darkening night around you as it graces his face, and he pulls you over to sit down under one of the trees.

"Hey Heeseung, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah sure, anything"

"How'd you already know what you wanted to order? I'm sure I've never seen you in my store before, I would remember you"

"Because I'm just so handsome?" He teases, laughing even harder when you reply "yeah, exactly".

"Well Y/N, can I be honest with you?"

"Yeah, of course"

"I've tasted your food before, even before you owned that place"

Your eyes widened at his confession, head cocking to the side as you tried to think of where he could have had your pastries.

"Were you at an even catered?"

He shakes his head dramatically, mumbling something unintelligible.

"What was that?" You lean closer to try and hear what he says and he looks up then, face mere inches from yours as he repeats himself.

"I said 'you give a girl her first kiss and she doesn't even remember you'"

You let out a small gasp as you realize and your face flares up in embarrassment.

Seventh grade, you had your first kiss with a boy who went to the same music classes as you, and you remember embarrassingly bringing him baked goods every class after that. His name was Heeseung, and now that you think carefully you can see the resemblance to the man sitting in front of you now.

"Oh my gosh that's so embarrassing, how'd you know it was me?"

He decides not to tell you he's remembered you since that little peck in middle school and has been begging his boss to order from your bakery so he would have an excuse to see you again.

"You haven't changed much since seventh grade" was his response instead, and you slapped his arm at the comment.

You two spent the next three hours just talking, catching up on each other's lives and reconnecting after your time away.

Before you knew it the sun had completely set and there were no light posts in the area Heeseung had brought you, you now struggled to see the boys pretty smile only a foot in front of you.

"Its getting late, and you probably have work tomorrow, we should probably start heading back."

He checked his phone at your mention, and you pretended not to notice the giant number of notifications while his eyes widened at the time.

"I didn't even realize it had gotten so late, let me take you back"

You're glad he offered, not sure you would be able to make it back to the cafe without his guidance.

The way back seemed much shorter than when you had been pulled down it earlier that day, and you found yourself disappointed that he didn't grab your hand again.

"Well here we are"

He looked around once you made it back to the familiar building, before turning to you.

"Where's your car?"

"Oh, I live pretty close so I just walk, it's easier than trying to find a parking spot in the city traffic anyway"

He nodded his head along with your statement but then shook his head slightly.

"You can't walk home alone at this time of night"

You felt touched by his concern, but fought him on it anyway.

"It's fine Hee, it's only like four blocks away"

"Nope, no way. That's way too far, come on"

He waved his hand towards you and you looked down at it curiously.

"What?"

"I'm walking you home, now come on"

He grabbed your hand again, both of you smiling at how right it felt.

You reached your house in about five minutes, and you tried to hide your disappointment at the prospect of your fun night coming to an end.

"Do you want to come in"

His eyes lit up at the offer but were quickly turned down to look at his feet.

"I'd love to, but I have work early tomorrow"

"Oh, okay"

It was quiet for a few moments before he made eye contact again, taking a step closer to your body and pulling you in his arms in a friendly hug.

"Thank you"

You hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"I should be the one thanking you, that spot was beautiful, and I had a really great time. Thank you for taking me with you"

Little did you know that he wasn't thanking you for the few hours you had spent together. But he said "of course" anyway.

"Well goodnight"

"Goodnight"

You went to go inside, sticking your key in the lock before quickly thinking of something.

"Wait!"

Heeseung looked at you quizzically, waiting for you to say whatever it was you had just thought of.

"I need your number," he raised one eyebrow and you quickly added "so you can text me when you get home safe, I would be an awful friend if I let you get kidnapped after you so graciously walked me home"

He laughed at your reasoning, but handed you his phone anyway as you two quickly added each other's contact.

You took a look at his contact, bursting out in laughter at the sight of it.

"Did you really put your name in as 'Heedungie' with a bunch of hearts?"

He looked proud of himself for making you laugh and he nodded his head.

"Yes, yes I did"

"No fair, give me your phone back I want to give you something embarrassing too"

You didn't think he actually would, but his phone was held out to you and you took it, quickly turning around and taking an exaggeratedly cute selfie to set as the contact picture before putting in a nickname for your name, complete with the same aggressive hearts as his.

"There"

He took the phone back and laughed at the improved contact.

"Perfect"

You shared one last smile before you entered your house, Heeseung leaving your porch after seeing you securely in, making sure he walked a block away before calling his driver so you wouldn't see.

Only once he was safe in the confines of the backseat did he look at the notifications on his phone.

23 missed texts from his father and 7 calls from his mother.

He clicked on the notification, skimming his eyes over the texts, rolling his eyes at their content. He didn't even read all the way through before shutting his phone off, throwing it across the seat for the rest of the ride.

You had just stepped out of the shower when you heard your phone ding, and you paused the music to go check the text.

'Just got home, all in one piece and no kidnapping attempts were made on me'

You laughed at his text, shooting back something along the lines of 'I'm glad to hear that' before heading out of your bathroom to get dressed.

Heeseung texted you a few more times after that, and you found yourself giggling at his messages exactly like seventh grade you did. Eventually you said your good nights, after you had scolded him for staying up when he needed to get up in the morning, and you smiled one last time at the obnoxiously cute contact name before floating off to sleep.

You went to work the next day, and the one after that, and there was no real difference in your life except for the constant texting and the extra bounce in your step. Even your regulars commented on how happy you looked.

Heeseung liked to come to the cafe on his lunch break, and you started making an extra lunch in the morning after the first day when he ordered three pieces of cake as his meal.

It was Thursday, and you were currently trying to find someone to help you bake the giant order for the party.

"Come on please, it's huge, and even one person would be a huge help to me"

"Sorry I can't, I'm babysitting for my neighbors the whole week"

You let out a sigh at yet another no, and put your phone back down on the counter.

You were so absorbed in the call that you hadn't heard Heeseung come in, and you almost screamed when you looked up to see him standing in front of you.

"Woah sorry," he was laughing so he obviously wasn't that sorry, "I didn't want to interrupt your call"

"It's okay"

"What do you need help with?"

It took you a moment to realize he meant the phone call and you let out another sigh at your empty search.

"I'm trying to get someone to help me with the order for the party, it's the biggest order I've gotten and it's just me so I can't make it all in one day by myself"

"Oh," he paused "what are you going to do"

"I don't know" you shrugged, "I'll have to start making things tomorrow, everything that would be able to stay overnight so that I don't have to do it all on Saturday, but even with that I don't know if I'll be able to get everything tomorrow done. Maybe I'll put a hiring sign up and hope someone applies by tomorrow"

He tried to stifle his giggles at how dumb of an idea that would be, but you still noticed.

"Heeeeee," you whined, holding the sound out for longer than needed, "stop laughingggg I know it's dumb. I'm trying to avoid a breakdown okay?"

He finally stopped laughing, and his eyes lit up like he just thought of an amazing idea.

"I can help you!!"

You look at him like he's crazy and he shrugs nonchalantly, "What? It's a good idea."

"No Hee, I would never ask you to do that. Besides it's literally for your order, I'm not making you cook for it, especially not on a work day"

"Nope, it's too late. I've made up my mind. I'm helping you"

"No Heeseung, you're not"

"Yes I am. Okay now I'm gonna run away before you can yell at me more. I'll be here tomorrow at- wait, what time do you even open?"

"Nine AM"

"-Then I will be here at nine AM"

"No Heeseung!"

He takes off running and you try to chase him down, both of your laughter ricocheting off the walls. A few people outside stop and watch as you run like children, most of them smiling at the sight.

"Heeseung"

"Nope, not happening"

He runs around you in a circle, quickly running up to the side of your body giving you a peck on the cheek and then taking off back towards the direction of his work.

"See you at nine AM" is the last thing you hear from him, a quiet message because of how far away he was, even though you know he was shouting when he said it.

You shake your head as you watch him turn the corner, turning around to come face to face with one of your regulars.

"So that's why you've been so happy lately?"

You try to think of something to say, some denial of how smitten you were, but all that came out was a giggle, one that solidified your current appearance of a lovesick school girl. You immediately slapped your hand over your mouth, embarrassed at your reaction, but the woman just laughed before heading into the building, you following shortly after to serve her.

And the next day, right at nine AM, the bell above your door rang, and in came the boy that had been the cause of your racing heart all week.

"Here I am"

"You're the worst"

"You say that, but you're smiling"

"Shut up"

He giggled as he followed you to the back of the building, teasing you more about how you were accepting his help anyway.

"I was hoping you wouldn't show up, but I guess since you're here I might as well get the help"

It wasn't true, you were up all night trying to decipher if he was actually going to show up. You even got out your cute apron and put some extra effort into your appearance this morning.

"I would recommend putting this on"

You toss him an apron to protect his clothes, going behind him and tying a nice little bow. He ignored the way his body tingled where your hands brushed it, and your breath hitched when he turned you around to do the same thing.

"This is my job Hee, I could tie it myself"

"I know," was all he said, letting his hands linger on your waist as he turned you back around to face him.

He tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, his face a little bit too close to yours.

"Whatcha doing?" Your voice came out as a whisper and the way he smiled made your heart beat even faster then it already was, something you didn't think was possible.

"What do you want me to be doing?"

You gave a small laugh, throwing your arms behind his neck and angling your head up to get closer to the tall man above you.

"Does this answer your question?" You asked, referring to your previous actions.

"I think it's a pretty good indication" he spoke through a smile, leaning down to brush his lips against yours softly.

It was barely a kiss, absolutely no pressure from either end, but the butterflies in your stomach absolutely erupted at the contact, and you couldn't even try for an actual kiss because of the huge smiles on your faces.

"Did you feel it?" He whispered, and even without an explanation you knew what he meant.

A giggle left your lips, "yeah I felt it".

A jingle sounded as someone walked in the store and you pulled away from him to go serve the customer.

He was standing against the counter when you walked in, still just basking in the feeling of what had just happened.

"Alright lover boy, time to get to work"

He smiled at the nickname, coming up to you and spinning you around once, before speaking.

"Yes chef"

You laughed at his antics and gave him directions on how to help you start the tart shell.

By noon you were well ahead of schedule, the playlist you had chosen now blaring as you screamed the lyrics together, flour dusted over your faces as you took a break from kneading the dough for the twists.

"Thank you for this"

"Helping you bake?"

"No, everything else too"

He smiled and pulled you back in, this time for a real kiss.

That night you both went home early so that you could get up early for last minute party prep, after a goodnight kiss (or two, or three, or four...) at the your front door.

"Okay I'll see you tomorrow"

"Can't wait"

He hesitated to pull away from you, not quite wanting to leave, but you pushed him lightly.

"One more?"

He puckered up and you laughed giving him one last kiss before running into your house, hearing his whines through the door.

"Okay baby, I'll see you tomorrow"

You almost screamed when the nickname left his lips and you could hear the laugh he let out when he heard your squeal from the other side of your door.

"You can go to the back room, there will be another girl in there and a changing station set up, guests are starting to arrive now"

You listened to the other worker speaking, trying not to show how tired you were after finishing all of the baking that morning.

Following her instructions, you headed to the back room to change out of your sweats and into something more presentable for the party. By the time you had exited the back, you could hear the chatter of people and could tell the party was starting.

They started by giving a small speech about how well they had done that quarter, thanking all of the employees for their work and their families for supporting.

Within 30 minutes you were carrying out trays of your pastries, everyone mostly finished with dinner and some random business video was playing in the front of the room.

You walked out to stand along the wall with the other miscellaneous staff people working the event, and watched as they moved on to giving out awards for things like "best costumer service" and "highest sell rate". The entire time you were looking around for Heeseung, trying to spot him over by some lanky guys who looked like interns, but no luck.

"Alright now that all of the awards have been passed out, an important announcement from CEO Lee"

You looked around trying to spot the man in question, eyes eventually landing on an old man, grey hair and a pinstriped suit, as he used a cane to lift himself out of the chair and up to the stage.

You spotted Heeseung then, sitting at the same table the old man had just left, along with an older looking woman you assumed to be CEO Lee's wife, and another male that looked to be a little older than Heeseung.

You thought about trying to get his attention, but the CEO soon started speaking, and your eyes were pulled away from him.

"As I think we all know, I'm not as young as I was when we started this business," there were a few laughs from around the room, and the man waited for them to be done before moving on. "I don’t want you to worry, I’m perfectly healthy, but I, along with my family, have decided that it would be best for me to step down from the company."

Murmurs erupted throughout the room, and it was enough to tell you that the employees had no prior knowledge of this decision. You look over to Heeseung to gage his reaction, but instead of surprise or confusion, his face is laced with something that looks more like... disappointment? You decide it must be the lighting that's obscuring his actual expression, since that wouldn't make much sense.

"I will be retiring within six months, and my son, I know you've all seen him around the company," the female population seems especially excited about these words, a few turning to make faces at each other, you even hear one say 'hot boss' to her friend.

"Heeseung, please come up here"

You can hardly conceal your shock as you see your Heeseung stand up from his seat and go to the front of the room.

You furrow your eyebrows as he stands next to who you now realize must be his father.

"Heeseung will be taking over the company after my leave"

Your eyebrows shoot up as the words register in your mind.

Heeseung is going to be CEO of this giant company within 6 months.

Maybe you should have been mad that he lied to you, that he hid this part of himself from you. He definitely didn't tell you the position of his father, or the fact that he was going to be coming into said position, but you found yourself realizing that you didn’t really care.

'That's one hell of an internship' was the first thing you thought, and you laughed at yourself for it.

When you zoned back in to what was going on, Heeseung was ending what you figured was a short speech about him taking over, and you clapped along with the rest of the crowd.

His eyes met yours and you swore there was relief on it when he saw you let out a "whoo" along with a few others.

Heeseung steps down from the podium, taking a few hands that were held out to him, giving handshakes and responding to comments from men in high up positions.

You were called to the kitchen to pack up the few pastries that weren't needed, and the loud conversing of voices faded with the closing of the door.

You smiled giddily at yourself while transferring tarts to boxes.

'I can't believe I'm dating the new CEO'

Wait-

We're you dating the new CEO? Technically you'd never gone on a date or at least one that you called a date. And he had never asked you to be his significant other. But you kissed? Multiple times.

"What is going on in that pretty brain of yours?"

You almost dropped the tart in your hand you were so surprised by the voice. A quick look reveals the person that had you so zoned out in the first place.

"You were thinking so hard it looked like smoke was about to come out of your ears"

You can't help but laugh at his words, finally continuing your actions of packing up the food and thinking up a lie.

"Just thinking about how my little intern became CEO in a week," worry crossed his face, but it disappeared immediately when you continued, "you must have been an AMAZING intern"

He laughs and moves next to you to help.

"So I might have lied a little bit"

"A little bit?"

You raise your eyebrows at him and he corrects himself with a laugh.

"Okay it was kinda big, but I just didn't want you to treat me different or anything"

He gives you his big doe eyes as you place the last pastry in the box, sealing it up to be taken to your car.

"Hee, you know I'm not mad right?"

"Really?"

"Yeah"

He smiles, and you realize too late why he's coming closer to you, your feet leaving the floor as he spins you around.

"Hee, Hee, stop" you laugh out, and he finally puts you back on the ground.

"Okay, so you don't hate me"

You cup his face, leaning in until your noses are almost touching.

"Correct, I don't hate you"

"Then in that case," he backs up and you pout at the increased distance.

He takes your hands in his, looking at you in a way that has your knees about ready to collapse.

"Would you want to be, my official official, girlfriend?"

You giggle at how he seemed to have the perfect timing, pulling on his hands to finally plant a soft kiss on his lips.

"I would love to"

Part II

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung #enhypen heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reader #swift.series

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