#go into tertiary training school or just get a job

[leviathan-supersystem]

hey is there a reason you decided to read "equity of pay for all professions can disincentivise people from pursuing lengthy education and training when the eventual outcome is the same as an 'entry level job' and we haven't accounted for that in social restructuring yet" as "service workers do not deserve comfort in their lives", or were you already howling in mindless idiot rage anyway? cuz it seems pretty weird to call someone else a dumb little bitch when it seems like you can't read words..

wow crazy how that's not what you fucking said dasha, and what you actually said was, word for word:

Yeah, that's what happened in Sweden

Now there's a giant gap in trained specialists with nobody to replace soon-to-be retirees which leads to outsourcing of a lot of jobs, ESPECIALLY blue collar ones

Because why bother getting an education, doing an apprenticeship and working hard manual labor all your life when you can just go flip burgers right out of high school and live comfortably?

the final sentence there says, outright, unmistakably, that if someone can "live comfortably" on job in food service they can get out of high school, then people won't bother to pursue other avenues of work and the economy will end up in crisis, and therefore "burger flippers" must never live comfortable lives lest chaos ensue.

never mind that every claim you made there dasha (we all know you sent this anon) was untrue, that people in sweden are not in fact rushing to go "flip burgers", people are not abandoning tertiary education, and if they're rushing to anything it's the tech industry.

not to mention that no one in the thread had at any point proposed the notion of "equity of pay for all professions". but lying, of course, is nothing new for you dasha. remember when you lied about how "actually, all i said was that the minimum wage fucked over sweden's economy", which is an amazing double lie, on one hand it's a lie because that's not what you fucking said and the subject of minimum wage had not come up once in that thread, but also, more importantly, because sweden doesn't have a fucking minimum wage. and i know you know that because it's a popular right-libertarian talking point.

and then your blubbering response when i called you on it was so fucking pathetic that for a moment i genuinely felt bad for you, i genuinely felt compassion for you and guilt for having continued the exchange. i don't fucking know why, you are a pathological liar who is specifically going out of your way to lie to undermine my livelihood as a cook, the fact that you asked me to apologize to you is hilarious, you should be apologizing to me every fucking day for the rest of your life.

and here you are, in my inbox, still lying, still desperately trying to salvage your bruised ego somehow.

no dasha, i won't apologize to you, but i'll do something even better, something you'd never do for me, and would never even do for yourself. i'll forgive you. even though you don't deserve it.

[themildestofwriters]

So, for my revised edition of The Sith, Zero, I've decided to split the first book into three. The new book one is the prologue, extended from four chapters to fifteen, give or take, plus an interlude-epilogue. This will not only extend the time with the characters involved, but flesh out the world, too. First chapter is a second POV, before we jump to Louise. Two chapters at the renamed Alvíss Institute of Tristain, following Louise's brief life there, before the next twelve chapters focus on her life as a slave to the Sith Empire. A bit has changed, including the fact that she's now bald, but it's the most like the previous rendition. Also, we get to see Louise's religious practices, which is always nice.

The second book, detailing her life at the Sith Academy is going to be tough. Originally it was 8 chapters, but I want to make it 30-ish. I want—no, need to balance not only her education (which serves as a good way of expositing how the Force works and the Sith operate in this time frame), but also her daily life, too. Friends, parties, failed romances, etc., etc. She's at a bording school for edgy teens, and will be there for three years compared to her original one year stay. The only issue is, that with extending her stay to three years, is that I gotta condense three years into 30 chapters of bullshit. While I think that's do-able, its still going to be complicated to create a throughline people can understand and properly follow.

Still, it follows the three act structure, with events slowly building to a decent climax. I have ideas for Louise to attend graduation, too, now that students are expected to pass their classes around the same time frame. A great big parade for newly minted Sith to walk the halls with their master in toe. Of course, I'm going with with standard set up for my series of "chapter one: different pov," with the epilogue always encompassing someone's experience post-Louise back on Alfheim (her homeworld). The prologue will be from Kory's perspective, following her experiences on the starship before they land on Korriban, seeing Louise from a third person perspective and watching how she grew.

Following that is the third book. Well, not exactly. The third book is going to be a novelette following Louise's experience on the Black Talon mission. It'll be the accumulation of her training, ending with her first real taste of the GFFA. Louise's military training will be referenced, and it'd be a good time for her to experience explicit anti-Sith sentiment from "the other side." I might follow the same rules as before, with the prologue being a different pov, but I'm not sure who. Khem Val is an obvious choice, but then who'd I choose for the next books' pov? Or maybe the novelette just doesn't get one, nor an Alfheim Interlude epilogue.

The actual third *novel* is going to be Louise's experiences on Dromund Kaas, not only as a student pursuing tertiary education along side her apprenticeship, but also experiencing her new job as Lord Zash's apprentice and what that entails. There'll also be ample room for her to explore Dromund Kaas, experience civilian life for the first time in three years, and develop her relationship with the rest of the cast. It will, naturally, showcase the Dromund Kaas plot line in detail, too, as the overarching narrative.

My original plan was, halfway through writing the Dromund Kaas book, I'd start posting the damn thing, but depending on how things go I might start posting the second I finish the Black Talon novelette. Along side, I'll also be commissioning an artist for book art, each one being posted along side the book it starts in. Louise at the academy, Louise as a slave, Louise as an acolyte, Louise as an apprentice, Louise as a Lord, Louise as a Dark Lord, etc.

As far as names go, what I have is thusly:

Book I: Fall Into Darkness

Book II: Path of the Sith

Book II.a: Black Talon

Book III: [tbh].

But that's the whole thing. One book of 20ish chapters turned into 3 books of 75 chapters, with an extra 5 for the novelette. I'm excited, honestly, and once that's done I'll be revamping the second book with the same treatment, and then continuing on from there.

#louise de la valliere #the sith zero

[verumfm]

━◈ WANTED CONNECTIONS ... three new ones have been added to the page!

there are tales of how li haoyu is searching for their two younger siblings, which is familial in nature. the records show that they are about 22-28 years old and their photographs look like dylan wang, lu yuxiao, zhao lusi, ju jingyi, fan chengcheng, yan an, song yuqi, xiao dejun, wang ziyi, sun yihan, bi wenjun, shen yue, wang yijin, chen zhuoxuan, wang zhuocheng, chen zheyuan, wu lei, lin yanjun, liu lingzi, any chinese fc in the appropriate age range. help us find them, but make sure that you speak to karin at @kencanas on tumblr beforehand. this is their story so far: a lot of haoyu’s siblings’ personalities are utp and we can discuss the details! but their shared backstory is that the li family is local to cynefin and are very rooted to the land. they’re literally just a normal family working normal jobs, with haoyu for example being a blacksmith. they do okay, but i definitely don’t imagine them to be Rich & the eldest two siblings at least probably did not get tertiary education. affinity for khemia across their bloodline is also very poor, but i’m down to discuss one of the siblings potentially being khemia-touched for the #drama because haoyu is very bitter they aren’t. tldr; details utp!

there are tales of how li haoyu is searching for their employer, which is platonic/professional in nature. the records show that they are about 40+ years old and their photographs look like omar sy, qin lan, michael greyeyes, zahn mcclarnon, aishwarya rai, gabrielle union, lukman sardi, jericho rosales, lucy liu, simone kessell, vera farmiga, alexander skarsgard, sandra oh, maggie q, gong yoo, lupita nyong’o, tessa thompson, alex meraz, pedro pascal, ke huy quan, fan bingbing, joe taslim, fc ultimately utp. help us find them, but make sure that you speak to karin at @kencanas on tumblr beforehand. this is their story so far: haoyu apprenticed at the local blacksmith’s forged upon graduating secondary school and has remained working there ever since. haoyu has (or at least had) a pretty good relationship with them, especially since he’s quite disciplined and passionate about his work. i imagine that because haoyu doesn’t have an affinity for khemia, however, it’s hard for him to progress in his career. would love if this muse is trained in transmutation & that is causing a bit of a rift between the two of them—because without khemia, haoyu can’t get to their level. this muse’s personality & how they ended up becoming a blacksmith really are all utp, and i’m more than happy to brainstorm further details.

there are tales of how li haoyu is searching for their narrative foil/rival, which is antagonistic in nature. the records show that they are about 27-33 years old and their photographs look like go younjung, do kyungsoo, pat chayanit, woo dohwan, melisa asli pamuk, apo nattawin, taz skylar, avan jogia, fady elsayed, sakaguchi kentaro, medalion rahimi, daniel ezra, alisha boe, damson idris, jackson wang, tiana okoye, ryan destiny, kylie verzosa, dilraba dilmurat, clark backo, gong jun, kang haneul, adonis bosso, pinar deniz, ashika pratt, bie thassapak hsu, fc ultimately utp. help us find them, but make sure that you speak to karin at @kencanas on tumblr beforehand. this is their story so far: the main thing i’m looking for with this muse is that they have a strong affinity for khemia, particularly in transmutation, which would be something haoyu both hates and envies. i imagine their narratives would parallel and foil each other’s at the same time, but how that is exactly is up for discussion. all i ask is that at present, their relationship is largely antagonistic and Not Great. whether they have history or not can also be discussed! some ideas include but are not limited to an ex student of verum who was an outsider, haoyu’s work rival, a young business owner who takes advantage of their transmutation magic, someone who supplies weapons to the warfront, and many more. basically this dynamic is toxic, biting, and crazy.

#appless rp #town rp #fantasy rp #period rp #magic rp #wc.

[smaccbookair]

IM GETTING AN A ON THIS I STG AAAUGHHHHHHH

#did my assignment til 5am... #dont go to uni just dont #go into tertiary training school or just get a job

[bts-bay-bee]

blue

↳ pairing: park jimin x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint

↳ summary: teaching your cold boss to love might just be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

↳ warnings: CEO!jimin, cold!jimin, dom!jimin, assistant!reader, cursing, male masturbation, fantasizing (?), vaginal fingering, oral (male and female receiving), cum eating, marking, daddy kink, pussy slapping, praise kink (kinda?), choking, handcuffs, nipple clamps, clit massager, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation (slight)

↳ word count: 13 066

↳ meaning of blue: heaven. authority. cold. wet. slow. depression. trust. intelligence.

“Is he here yet?” You asked, out of breath as you ran to your desk at work. The office secretary shook her head, no, making you sigh out in relief. You had been massively late for work which ended up with you running up the many flights of stairs – in heels – deeming the elevator too slow to get you to your office.

 You flashed the office secretary a huge smile, hoping that would further prod her to cover up for your tardiness, before walking over to your office, which was conveniently located right next to your boss’s much larger, much sleeker office.

 Park Jimin had been your boss for the better part of five years now. You had undertaken the job when you had finished high school, looking for anything and everything to bring any amount of money into your bank account. University tuition fee statements were your personal version of hell; the obscenely large number crushed any of the dreams you once had. But then came along Mr Park.

 When he had seen your curriculum vitae, he had immediately been intrigued. Back then he wasn’t CEO of the company, but he had started to quickly move up the proverbial ranks, which allowed him to finally acquire a personal assistant to handle the lesser tasks. A high school graduate – with straight A’s in every subject – hadn’t chosen to go to college? That’s what had made him so intrigued with you. In a few short hours after he had first reviewed your resume, you had gone through a short telephonic interview then you had been asked to come in for a trial period. One which you had passed with flying colours.

 Jimin couldn’t help himself but ask about your lack of tertiary education. With a flushed face and shaking hands, you embarrassedly told him about your lack of funds. It was only embarrassing because here you were talking about your financial issues to a man who had a year’s worth of tuition on his wrist in the form of a shiny gold Rolex. Another year’s worth of tuition was probably wrapped around his ring finger, because of course no man as rich, successful and not to mention handsome wouldn’t have a wedding ring on.

 Jimin’s wife, Irene – who you had only met a handful of times – was the complete opposite of the warm, caring man. She was cold and distant, even towards her husband, who was supposedly her high school sweetheart. How they managed to stay together for so long boggled your mind. Slowly, you started to see Jimin change. His once fond smile slowly disappeared, now being replaced by a cold, grim straight line. He stopped caring about the people he worked with. He even began to sneer at lesser workers, not bothering to greet the janitors or the office secretary.

 Sitting at your shiny, mahogany desk you began to review emails for Jimin, sifting through the numerous subject lines and forwarding the emails to him so that he could take care of them. At around 10am you left your desk, realising that you had to make Jimin coffee. After adding the espresso shot and steamed milk into the coffee mug, you walked to the large door of Jimin’s office, knocking three times before waiting for a response.

 “Enter.” His voice was clipped, meaning he was already in a foul mood.

 You quietly pushed down the door handle and entered, your eyes trained on the floor as you made your way to his desk. Without speaking you placed the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, then began to make your way back to your office. Jimin hadn’t taken his eyes off of his large LCD screen, not paying you any attention. However, before you could take a step away from him, his cold, hard voice reached your ears.

 “Take a seat, Miss L/N.”

 Oh, you were screwed. There was no two ways about it.

 “Yes, Sir.”

 He never told you to sit after bringing him his coffee. Taking a deep breath, you turned back to face him and took a seat on the edge of the plush chairs. Jimin’s cold eyes still trailed over his monitor, making you squirm slightly from awkwardness. What did he want? He hadn’t asked you to sit with him since… Well, since before he was married. This just wasn’t something you did anymore.

 After what seemed like hours, he lifted his eyes from the harshly lit screen, bring his eyes to your own. Flushing a light shade of pink, you cleared your throat and looked down again. You didn’t want to disrespect him by staring right back at him.

 “Where’s your coffee?” He quietly asked, picking up his mug.

 “I, uh… I didn’t make myself any, Sir.” You replied, eyes trained on your twiddling thumbs. He sighed, rolling his chair back slightly so that he was more comfortable.

 “Don’t you want to go make yourself a cup? I need to speak to you about something.” Jimin said, loosening the tie he had dawned today slightly. You were frozen in the leather chair – had you done something wrong? Was he going to fire you? He noticed you hadn’t moved, which caused him to frown. “Is the idea of drinking coffee with me really that appalling, Y/N?”

 “No! I just…” You began, wringing your hands nervously, your eyes still not leaving them. “Are you going to fire me?”

 Jimin looked at you, stunned. “Why would think that?”

 “Well… I was a little late for work today, and you asked me to sit down. You don’t ask me to sit down and have coffee with you, Sir. It was almost as if you were going to give me bad news.”

 “I used to always ask you to have coffee with me, Y/N.” He replied, frowning slightly. He knew that you used to have coffee with him on a daily basis, usually to discuss the work for the day, but coffee, nonetheless. He also knew that at one point you used to meet his eyes when you spoke to him. When did that change? “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

 “What did you want to talk to me about?” You asked, avoiding his question that you had no nice answer to. Did he really want to hear that his wife berated you repeatedly for working with him so closely? For looking at him when he spoke to you, and vice versa?

 Jimin eyed you warily. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” You nodded wordlessly, only making him deepen his frown. Nevertheless, he ploughed on, settling on the fact that this was now what your relationship had been reduced to. “I have a promotion of sorts for you. Well, in actual fact, it’s just a favour for me. A rather large favour.”

 “Sir?” You prodded, urging him to speak when he had stopped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes out of sheer tiredness. He had been awake all night, thinking about how to ask you this.

 “As you know, Irene and I have been separated for some time now.” He began, making you reel with shock. When did they split up?! And why did he think that you knew about it? “We recently decided to finalise it and get a divorce. She left last week. She left Ezra with me.”

 Ezra is Jimin’s five-year-old son. Despite his mother being an absolute witch and his father turning colder with each passing day, he was still a respectful boy. Like Irene, you hadn’t really seen him that many times.

 “I’m… I’m sorry.” You softly replied, not knowing what else to say. Where was this going? “I didn’t know this had been happening, Sir.”

 Jimin shrugged, not really worried about the fact that he was divorced. That’s not what had been bothering him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we were ever actually in love. Anyway, Irene isn’t what I need to speak to you about. It’s Ezra.”

 “I’m sure this has been very taxing on him too.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You still didn’t know where this was going, and it was driving you crazy.

 “He’s too young to really understand what’s been happening.” He replied, his jaw clenched, angry at himself for not being able to articulate why he so desperately needed your help.

 “I, um… I’m not really the domestic type. I don’t know how to cook. I don’t know how to take care of a child. I’ve been dropping Ezra off at my parents every day since Irene left, but I don’t want him to grow up spending most of his day at someone else’s house. He should be at his home. And, I know, I can hire someone to babysit him, but he’s still so young to be left with strangers, and I don’t want to put his life in unnecessary danger. I mean, you never know what these people could be behind a façade –”

 “Sir, where do I fit in?” You asked, amused at his rambling. This isn’t the cold CEO that you became used of. This was the old Jimin, the Jimin that had actually been interested about his employees, regardless of the amount on their pay cheque.

 He cleared his throat, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I know that you’re not under any obligation to help me, but I trust you more than anyone else in my life, Y/N. I need… I need someone to help me with Ezra. Not just with Ezra, but with the whole domestic thing.”

 “Mr Park, I still don’t know where I fit in.” You said soothingly, getting somewhat of an idea of what he was asking you.

 He ran his hand though his styled blonde hair in exasperation. Why couldn’t he just say what he needed from you? “Move in with me.” Shit. That’s not how he had meant to phrase it.

 You choked on nothing; the way he had blurted it out had surprised you, which ended up with you looking up at him with watery eyes from a lack of oxygen. He immediately jumped out of his chair and rushed over to you, lightly tapping your back until you could breathe easily again. Having him this close to you made you even more nervous than you already were. After your choking ordeal was over, he surprised you by taking a seat next to you instead of going to the other side of the desk. His cologne wafted over you, dosing you in his masculine scent. It honestly made you more nervous that you already were.

 “Move in with you?” You repeated, in a small voice. Jimin looked mortified at your reaction, mentally bashing himself for even thinking of asking you this. But he was already in too deep to change the narrative.

 You swallowed the lump in your throat. Obviously, you wanted to help him – you want to help everyone around you. It was just who you were as a person. But how would it look? The world you lived in was a rather nasty, judgemental one.

 “Sir… Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but what would people think? You barely finalised your divorce and you already have another woman moving in?”

 “Just temporarily.” He weakly replied, embarrassment showing on his cheeks. “Of course, I know that this is such a huge favour to ask, I know it’s odd, but I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I wasn’t completely out of options.”

 You bit your lower lip, then sighed. Curse your soft heart. Running a hand through your hair, you nodded to him. “We have a lot more to discuss, but when can I move in?”

 ***

 “This is the living room… This is the kitchen… Your bedroom is upstairs, next to mine.” Jimin timidly said, scratching the back of his reddened neck. This nervous side of Jimin was quite new, and you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you amused. Ever since you drove into the driveway five minutes ago, he had been stumbling over his words, tripping over nothing and wringing his hands.

 “Sir, are you okay?” You asked before you could stop yourself. He caught your eye, opening his mouth to brush you off, but was left speechless when you didn’t shy away from his gaze. His mouth curved into a soft smile, realising that it was just you. There was no reason to be a nervous, rambling mess.

 “I’m fine, Y/N.” He murmured, seeing the way your eyes danced with amusement. Who would’ve thought that the cold, cutthroat CEO would be rendered speechless from having his personal assistant in his home? “I’ve been thinking… I mean, you are essentially going to be living here for a while. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re forced to maintain a professional persona the entire time. Call me Jimin.”

 “Okay, Si – Jimin.” You replied, quickly catching yourself. The feel of his name on your tongue foreign yet… Right. Jimin smiled at you, his nervousness of having you in his house now forgotten. Who would’ve thought that all it took to get rid of them was just one look into your eyes? But now his stomach was twisting for a different reason. Why did it flip when you said his name?

 “Where’s Ezra?” Your question hung in the air as he abandoned any thought about the butterflies wreaking havoc in the pit of his tummy. Almost as if saying his name summoned him, the boy suddenly appeared to walk down the stairs. His dark hair was greatly contrasted by his honeyed skin; his cheeks so full that they gently shook with every step he took. Ezra was truly the miniature version of Jimin.

 He bowed to his father almost a little too fast, making you raise your eyebrow. Upon setting his eyes on his son, Jimin stood up even straighter than he already was and lifted his chin, regarding Ezra with cold eyes.

 “This is Y/N.” Jimin told the young boy, his jaw clenched. Jimin almost seemed angry at Ezra. “She’s going to be helping us while your mother is away.”

 ***

 “Good morning, Ezra.” You sang softly as you slowly opened the curtains in his bedroom. You saw his eyes peak up at you through the covers of his grey blanket, then abruptly squint when the sun’s rays hit them. “Did you sleep well?”

 “Hmm.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The long sleeves of his blue pyjamas flopped over the tips of his fingers, only increasing the cuteness currently assaulting your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping that today was the day that he completely opened up to you – having already been here for two weeks surely must’ve made him somewhat comfortable with you, right?

 “How about after you get bathed and changed, we have pancakes for breakfast?” You suggested as you ran your hands through his messy bedhead, smoothing the black tufts of hair. Ezra said nothing, instead he nodded at you, sleep still quite evident in his eyes.

 After tidying up Ezra’s room, you walked into the kitchen with the intent of making some coffee for Jimin and yourself. As you put a couple scoops of ground coffee beans in the machine, you began prepping the ingredients for breakfast. If you worked fast enough, Jimin might be able to eat before he goes to the office. Humming as you gracefully moved throughout the kitchen, you quickly lost track of time.

 “Are you… Making pancakes?” Jimin incredulously asked, eyes sweeping over the stack of pancakes that he found next to you on the counter. You hummed, flashing him a small smile, before going back to flipping the golden pancakes in front of you.

 This was the first time that he had seen you in your natural state – usually you were already showered and changed before he even woke up, but today you just didn’t feel like keeping up the pretence. You were basically going to be living here for a couple more weeks – you didn’t feel like faking how organised you were as soon as you woke up. Even though you did feel kind of insecure and quite frankly embarrassed about the way you were dressed at the moment, Jimin felt totally different. Of course, he knew that you were gorgeous, but with your hair pulled in a messy bun and your thighs on display thanks to your sleeping shorts, Jimin just couldn’t help but stare at you.

 His eyes studied the exposed flesh of your legs, unknowingly biting his plump lip when you turned around to get something from the cupboard behind you. Jimin only tore his eyes away from your unmarred skin when Ezra climbed onto the stool next to him.

 You smiled at Ezra as you placed a stack of pancakes in front of him, the breath-taking curve of your pink lips were enough to make Jimin reciprocate the action, even though it wasn’t even being directed at him. When did he become to enamoured with you? Was it when you agreed to help him in his desperate time of need, or long before that? He couldn’t help but think that you were somewhat like a guardian angel – his own, personal angel, who makes his day a little brighter.

 “Jimin? Jimin? Jimin!” You called, trying to capture his attention. He had spaced out, not realising that both you and Ezra had been attempting to talk to him. You nudged his shoulder gently, causing him to finally get out of his daydream and look at you confused. “We’ve been trying to speak to you. You kind of entered your own world there.” You explained to him, unable to prevent the tiny laughter from leaving your mouth.

 Ezra had long since given up trying to talk to his father; any five year old child would want their father’s attention, but Ezra (even at his tender age) knew that his relationship with Jimin was somewhat strained; his father had already been corrupted by the cold CEO attitude to ever give him any attention. This was why Ezra was already almost done with his stack of pancakes – he didn’t want to spend any more time with Jimin than needed. Well, he knew that Jimin didn’t want to spend any more time with him than needed.

 “I’m sorry, I was… Thinking.” Jimin apologised sheepishly, making Ezra confused. For as long as he had been alive, he hadn’t heard his father utter an apology. Not even to his mother. But Ezra was already confused – not once had his mother ever made him breakfast, let alone eat breakfast together. Was this what a normal family did every day? “What were you saying, Y/N?”

 “I was wondering if it would be okay for me to take Ezra to the craft store today.” You repeated, nervously. “Ezra likes to draw and paint, and so do I, so I wanted to get us some more supplies –” Jimin didn’t even wait for you to finish before sliding his credit card over to you, making you look at him confused. “I wasn’t hinting for money, Sir, I just wanted to take Ezra with me.”

 “I know, but please take it.” He murmured, dropping his gaze to the delectable stack of food in front of him. “And what did we talk about, Y/N? Stop calling me Sir. I’m not your boss here. Think of this as your home.”

 “It’s just a habit…” You awkwardly explained, trying not to make too much a fool of yourself, as Ezra hopped down the chair and went to wash his hands. “It feels disrespectful to call you anything other than Sir.”

 “I remember that you used to call me Chim before.” He muttered, thinking back to when you had first started at the company. You had been so playful with him, something that he misses dearly. His admission made you blush a deep scarlet. How did he even remember something as trivial as a stupid nickname?

 As you opened your mouth to respond, you heard Ezra struggling to reach the faucet in the basin. Before you could turn to help him, he frantically hit the tap falling to the floor, subsequently turning the water on to a very high pressure. You suddenly felt water spray everywhere, falling all over the granite top, the floor, as well as you and Ezra.

 You quickly shut the tap off, ignoring the water dripping down your face and checked to see if Ezra was fine.

 “Are you okay, baby?” You murmured, wiping the water off of his face as his eyes filled with tears. “Did you get hurt?”

 “Why didn’t you ask one of us for help?” Jimin asked in a firm voice, anger obviously showing on his face and in his voice. “Now look at what you’ve done!”

 Ezra doesn’t respond to either of you. Instead, he took one look at Jimin’s face and ran out the kitchen, tears streaming down his face. You stood up and looked at Jimin in disbelief.

 “It was just a mistake, Jimin. There was no need for you to speak to him like that.” You said stiffly, trying not to let your irritation shine through. You turned away from him, quickly cleaning up the water before ignoring Jimin’s silence and walking up the stairs into Ezra’s room.

 Jimin really didn’t mean to do what he did. It came from years and years of being forced to be strict and abrupt with his employees. He meant to tell you that – he really did. But when you angrily snapped at him with a soaking wet, white shirt, he lost all train of thought. The water had turned the material see-through, showing off your plump tits, even flaunting the darker ring of your nipple. He was so lucky you were not there to see him frozen, mind unable to function from seeing your breasts.

 ‘Stop acting like some fucking schoolboy,’ he chided himself as he fixed his semi-hard length through his slacks, ‘you got hard after seeing her tits, for God’s sake. Pull yourself together.’

 After checking the coast to make sure it was clear, he all but ran back into his room, hoping to hide his slightly stiffened member from you. As Jimin walked past Ezra’s room, he heard you soothingly reassuring the child that he hadn’t meant to shout at him. Hearing the way you had to quieten Ezra made his heart clench – you barely knew his son, yet you were comforting him after one of Jimin’s many outbursts. Of course Jimin didn’t want to compare you and Irene, the two relationships you shared with Jimin and Ezra were completely different, but she never cared for Ezra the way you do. She never bothered to notice that Ezra had been interested in art; hell, even he hadn’t noticed that.

 Thoughts of how loving you are, how much you cared about people, filled his head for the rest of the day. His employees and business partners must’ve thought he had completely lost his mind: Jimin’s face had this faraway look the entire day, only changing when his mind decided to remind him just how delectable you looked this morning.

 Jimin had been so out of it, so infatuated by you, he decided that there was no use being at work anymore. He wasn’t getting anything done anyway so that’s how he found himself driving back home early, subconsciously wanting to be back in your presence immediately.

 “Y/N?” He called as he walked through the front door, loosening his tie. Not hearing your voice in response made him frown; you were usually waiting in the living room to greet him, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand and a bright, dazzling smile on your lips. He could care less about the coffee if he’s being honest. “Y/N, where are you?”

 Silence once again met his ears causing him to frown deeper. Worry suddenly filled his every orifice. Immediately fishing his phone out of his pocket, his fingers almost went on autopilot, dialling your number before pressing the phone to his ear. His heart pounded in his chest when you didn’t pick up by the second ring. Where had you gone?

 “Hello?”

 “Y/N? Are you okay?! Where are you?” Jimin said loudly, almost yelling. His tone made you confused; you had told him that you were taking Ezra out today. Why was he so frantic?

 “I’m fine, Jimin. Ezra and I just picked up some stuff from the store. Why are you asking?”

“I thought…” He couldn’t even finish the rest of his sentence because he didn’t know what he had thought. He cleared his throat, trying to clear your mind. “Never mind. Are you on your way back?”

 After you reassured Jimin that you were indeed coming back soon, he let out a sigh of relief and ended the call. He didn’t know why, but not coming home to you felt… Wrong. You had only been here for two weeks, yet he can’t imagine living in this house without you; he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how he lived here with the emotionless statue that was Irene.

 Jimin walked past into the kitchen with the intention of getting himself a snack but his eyes drifted to the sink, his mind betraying him by vividly reminding him of the way you looked this morning. God, the way your shirt had stuck to you, tempting him with the subtle curve of your waist, your voluptuous tits… Not to mention the way you had looked at him sternly. Everything about you made his head spin. Everything about you seemingly sent a rush of blood down to his cock.

 Biting his lip, his mind veered into uncharted territory by imagining just how good you looked without the dripping wet shirt. He imagined kissing down your body, marking you as his, and his alone, then spreading your legs, suckling on your needy clit…

 Before he knew it, Jimin was rock hard in his slacks from the mere thought of you for the second time today. He groaned when he felt his stiffness, irritated with himself because now he knew he had to get himself off, and he hated it. Jimin had only his hand to keep him company for the better part of two years now – himself and Irene hadn’t engaging in sexual activity whilst separated, despite living in the same house, and he couldn’t bring himself to bed anyone else whilst still legally married. Other than that, he found it humiliating to buy a sex toy in person, or even online – his company’s IT people could probably see his search history if they tried hard enough.

 Jimin sighed, knowing that his erection was solely his fault. He trudged up the stairs, situating himself in his en-suite bathroom, before turning the shower on. He hated jacking off, but he might as well make the clean-up easy. Stripping out of his work clothes he quickly hopped into the shower, trying to ignore the almost painful stiffness protruding from his body.

 Leaning his back and head against the tiled wall behind him, he allowed the water to cascade over him, relishing in the steaming hot water that soothed him. Jimin tried to not touch his boner for as long as he could but five minutes into the shower, he just couldn’t stop himself from gently stroking himself. He grabbed his shower gel, foaming up his hands so that it would be easier to jack himself off.

 “Oh, fuck!” He groaned, taking his curved length into his slippery palm, moving back and forth on the sensitive flesh. Continuing the motion, he applied more pressure around his cock, relishing in the feeling of getting himself off. But he so wished it were you.

 He wished it were your wet pussy squeezing and clenching around his dick, gripping him like a vice. He wished he could wrap your legs around his waist and pound into you, pulling on your hair and sucking on your neck, leaving deep purple marks so that everyone knew you were his. He wished he could paint the inside of your dripping cunt with his cum, making you hold it in and walk around the office with no panties, seeing evidence of his climax slowly drip down your legs.

 “God, Y/N…” Jimin whined, his usually steely voice reduced to a pitched, needy moan. He wanted you so fucking badly, and he was so fucking close. His hand moved with a mind of its own – it doubled its speed, exerting itself to relieve Jimin. Throaty groans left his plump lips, bouncing off of the tiles and echoing throughout the bathroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 Somehow squeezing tighter around his pulsating cock, he got more frantic. Jimin began bucking into his fist, ignoring how his wet hair stuck to his forehead. After a few more seconds of fucking into his hand, he let out a growl, his cum squirting up and landing on his toned stomach. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

 ***

 “Why don’t you go up to your room.” You suggested to Ezra, ruffling his hair lightly as you walked into Jimin’s living room. He leaned into your touch, clearly affection-starved, making you frown. You’d have to talk to Jimin about that. You noticed just how cold and strict Jimin was with Ezra; of course it wasn’t your place to say anything about how someone raises their child, but it did become your place when said child has to look for comfort from you.

 “Are you going to come paint with me?” Ezra asked timidly, one hand gripping the shopping bag filled with art supplies, while the other gripped your hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

 “In a little bit, sweetheart.” You murmured, walking up the staircase that lead to the rooms. “Go set up. I just need to talk to your father about something.”

 He nodded, only leaving your hand when you walked past his bedroom. You walked to the end of the hallway, planning on giving Jimin a piece of your mind for being so unloving towards Ezra. Without knocking, you entered the room hoping to find Jimin laying on his bed or something, but he was nowhere to be found.

 “Sir?” You said quietly, before berating himself. Hadn’t he told you not to call him that? You cleared your throat, steeling your voice before calling loudly again.  “Jimin?”

 As you walked further into his room, you heard the shower running, indicating that he was already occupied. You decided to talk to him later, so you turned on your heel and began to walk out the room. Suddenly, you heard Jimin’s voice. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

 Huh. Okay. Guess he was cutting his shower short for you.

 You sat on the edge of his bed, elbow resting on your crossed legs and chin resting on your open palm. What if you were about to say something hurtful and he decided that he didn’t need you anymore? Maybe this was a bad idea.

 In a split second, you decided that this conversation could happen another day, so you started to make your way out of his room. As you were about to lift yourself off of the luxurious bed, the bathroom door opened, letting steam escape the bathroom, and also allowing you to see your boss.

 Your jaw dropped open seeing Jimin in nothing but a white towel covering his lower body. Water droplets streaked down his chest, down to his toned abs. Upon seeing them, you felt your mouth go completely dry… Oh god, his body looked like it was carved by the gods themselves. Jimin looked shocked, almost panicked by your presence, which was weird since he had told you he was coming out of his shower.

 “I, um… I needed to talk to you.” You said, quickly, standing up hurriedly. “I was about to leave and then you said you’d be coming out the shower. I just assumed you wanted me to wait for you.” Jimin’s cheeks were tinged red, probably from the hot shower, paired with his second-hand embarrassment from you. “I’m sorry. I’ll just speak to you later. I’ll be in Ezra’s room if you need me.”

 And with that, you practically ran out of Jimin’s room. You didn’t realise that you didn’t allow him to get a word in. Speed walking to Ezra’s room, you felt your cheeks heat up from extreme embarrassment – how, just how, did you think it was appropriate to check out your boss? Sure, you were living in his house, but it’s totally a different thing.

 “Y/N?” Ezra called, confused when you rushed into his room and shut the door behind you quickly. You quickly took a deep breath to calm your radical breathing, then turned to the young child, putting on a dazzling smile.

 “Yes, sweetheart?” You replied, seeing a smile forming on his lips due to your own. Your eyes drifted to the painting supplies that he had spread in front of him, all untouched, because he was waiting for you to paint with him.

 “Did father give you work? Or can you come paint with me?” He timidly said, eyes full of hope. You felt your smile turn tender; you know that you only spent a few weeks with him, but Ezra had completely captured your heart. But paired with your tenderness, you felt yourself feel a pang of sadness: Ezra never called Jimin anything other than ‘father’. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it just showed that their relationship wasn’t the best, nor were they the closest. God, how can you think about fixing their relationship when you were drooling over his father five seconds ago? You’re pathetic.

 “I came to paint with you.” You reassured, swallowing hard to try and get that delicious image of Jimin out of your mind.

 ***

 After you left, Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, extremely embarrassed that you had heard him jacking off. Sure, you didn’t exactly figure it out, but you had heard him nonetheless. He quickly found himself regretting doing what he did, not because you were his PA, but because you were obviously so innocent; even though he had caught you checking him out, he’s pretty sure that your mind didn’t extend to anything else. Unlike him.

 He sighed, knowing that he had to face you momentarily. Park Jimin – a married man – had been thinking of his assistant, who’s selflessly helping him by living in his house, while he masturbated. How fucked up is he? What kind of person –

 Stopping his self-derogatory monologue, he realised that he had nothing to be angry or ashamed about: he was no longer a married man, and as far as he knew, you were completely single. What was stopping him from advancing on you? It was almost as if a lightbulb had gone off in his brain. What was stopping him?

 With his mind made up, he decided to quickly slip on some clothes, probably needing to make a better impression than just a towel hanging loosely from his hips, then walked down the stairs to where you were making dinner.

 “Y/N?” He called, walking with purpose into the kitchen. His eyes fell to you chopping up some onions with Ezra quietly sketching something next to you. He suddenly felt awkward – the whole situation was too… Domestic for him. It was something that he never experienced.

 But it was too late for him to change his mind. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat and directed his gaze to Ezra. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

 ***

 “Y/N?” Jimin called as he walked into the kitchen, seemingly angry. You immediately shrunk, thinking he was about to yell at you for waiting in his room. You felt nervousness fill your being at your pending doom. He turned his attention to Ezra, voice turning even harder. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

 That simple command, ‘Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N’, was enough to bring back all your anger that consumed you earlier. Jimin needed to fix his relationship with Ezra, and he needed to fix it fast.

 Ezra wordlessly obeyed Jimin, hopping off the chair from next to you and making his way up to his room. Once he was safely back in his room you turned to Jimin, meeting his cold gaze, you refused to back down. Ezra needed you now.

 “Y/N, are you –”

 “Why do you speak to him like that, Jimin?” You coldly asked, trying to match his usual tone. “That’s what I needed to talk to you about earlier.” He didn’t reply to you, seemingly shocked in your tone and words. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but it seems like no one else is willing to confront you about it. Ezra is just a child. It’s fine if you speak to me like that, I’m just your assistant, but he’s your child.”

 “You’re more than just –”

 “I wasn’t finished.” You said, visibly vibrating from fear, yet you still stood your ground. “You’re so cold towards him, Jimin. And why?”

 He stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say. In the many years he has known you, you’ve never seemed so… Angry about something. You were almost a completely different person and it made Jimin feel unsure about himself for the first time in forever. He swallowed hard and broke eye contact with you, deciding to instead stare at the floor.

 “I know that things must be hard because Irene isn’t here anymore, but you cannot allow that to effect Ezra.” You said softly, knowing that you had overstepped multiple boundaries. He opened his mouth to reply but found that he had no words to say. He had no excuse for his harshness towards Ezra.

 Before you could say anything else – perhaps an apology, perhaps more wakeup calls for him – he quickly walked out of the kitchen, probably going to hide in his bedroom. You sighed, knowing that you were too harsh, yet also knowing that it needed to be said.

 ***

 A few hours later, you still haven’t seen Jimin. He had been holed up in his room, doing God knows what, and didn’t even come out for dinner, which left you and Ezra to enjoy a quiet supper. But now it was late, and Ezra was currently knocked out in his room; apparently the shopping trip and then painting for hours was a little too much for his small body. The fact that he was sleeping was bad news for you – it left you to wallow in your thoughts, it left you to overthink.

 Sighing as you turned on the shower, you began stripping and jumped into the shower, enjoying the soothing feeling of hot water caressing your skin. However, your relief was short lived as unwelcome thoughts of Jimin swam through your mind. It wasn’t your place to say anything; all you did was hurt him when he needed someone to help him.

 ‘I should probably apologise’, you mused as you rinsed soap off of your body, feelings of guilt and shame pooling in the pit of your stomach. Nodding to yourself, you quickly wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, before going back to your room, planning to quickly change into your pyjamas before going over to apologise to Jimin. Before you could do anything of the sort, you heard someone knock on your door, making you frown.

 “Ezra, is everything okay –?” You began, tightening the towel around you before pausing. It wasn’t Ezra, it was Jimin. He looked exhausted, worried even. Before you could say anything, he beat you to it.

 “I think I have feelings for you.” He blurted, causing you to look at him confused. You didn’t even get a word in before a look of realisation came over him and he all but bolted back to his room, leaving you with your mouth agape. What. The. Fuck.

 “J-Jimin!” You called, now worried for his sanity. You definitely shouldn’t have yelled at him earlier. He didn’t look back at you as he hurriedly closed his door. Exasperatedly, you walked down the hallway, and opened his door.

 He was laying on his bed, face buried into a pillow. If you weren’t so worried about him, you might have actually laughed at the situation. “Jimin?” You softly said, making him groan.

 “I’m sorry, Y/N. Just ignore whatever I said. Go back to your room.”

 “Why are you apologising?” You murmured, shutting the door and walking closer to him, ignoring what he said. He sighed into his pillow; face still buried there.

 “Please go. I can’t face you right now.”

 “I’m not going anywhere.” You said gently. “You need to learn how to express your feelings, Jimin. You can’t say something like that then run away.”

 “I didn’t run away.” He grumbled, barely lifting his face off of his pillow to eye you out. This was so unlike the usual Jimin that you couldn’t help but feel worried. “Go get dressed, Y/N.”

 “Then you’ll just lock your door so that I cannot get in.” You replied, suddenly acutely aware of your lack of clothing, making your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively walked forward, placing a hand on his muscular back. “Jimin? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

 “I’m fine. Go to your room.”

 “Stop acting like a child.” You chastised, realizing that this was the only way to get him to talk to you. “You need to get used to talking about your feelings. Yours and Ezra’s relationship needs open communication –”

 “Y/N, I swear I’ll talk about my fucking feelings as soon as you get some clothes on.” He all but yelled, suddenly sitting up with his eyes running hungrily over your exposed legs. “I can’t tell you what I need to when my mind is set on tearing that God damn towel off.”

 You froze, completely shocked that he could ever say such a thing, let alone to you. Quickly shaking off your astonishment and arousal, you knew this was just a ploy to avoid talking about his feelings. Brushing your hand on his cheek, Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut while his chest rapidly rose and fell. Unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t using this as some tactic to get rid of you: he genuinely couldn’t get his mind off of your luscious thighs, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into it and mark you everywhere.

 “Please…” He whimpered, leaning into your touch despite wanting – no, needing – you to leave. He didn’t know if you were at all interested in him, but if by some off chance you were, he didn’t want this to be the first time anything like that happened.

 “Talk to me.” You whispered, worry and anxiousness blooming in your heart. What happened to the fearless, scary CEO? Where was he?

 Within a millisecond you felt his hands grip your towel-clad waist, flipping you underneath him, allowing his toned thighs to trap your own bare legs. Your heart began to pound rapidly, only adding to the growing heat between your thighs.

 “What do you want me to talk about?” He murmured as plump lips ghosting over your earlobe, resulting in a silent gasp to leave you. Why were his lips so soft? And why, oh God why, were you so responsive to his barest touch?

 Gulping, you tried to move, knowing that Jimin wasn’t in the right state of mind for this. Even so, it was almost as if your body didn’t want to believe that; your arousal from him doing basically nothing was slowly becoming evident.

 “Jimin, you’re not all there at the moment, we can talk about this in the morning –”

 “No, you wanted to talk, so let’s fucking talk.” He snapped, running his hands over your calves, head buried in the crook of your neck and his lips ghosting over your pulse point. “Now what do you want me to tell you, Y/N, hmm? Want me to tell you that I want to bury my face in-between your legs?”

 “Jimin!” You said, shocked at his lewd words. He didn’t even have the decency to look abashed, nor did he even pull away from your neck. Quietly kissing over your sensitive flesh, you began to feel goose bumps rise over your skin. He paid you no mind as his hands continued to roam over your exposed legs.

 “Do you want me to tell you that I want to have my lips wrapped around your pretty little clit? Or how about finger fucking you until you’re cumming all over my hands? Hmm? Is that what you want, baby?”

 As much as you wanted this, as much as you wanted him, you couldn’t allow him to do this. Not when he has such emotional issues. Tearing his lips away from your neck, you held his face securely between your hands.

 “You’re thinking with your dick.” You firmly said, not missing the way his eyes were clouded with lust. He shook his head, trying to move back to ghost lips over your soft skin. “I cannot let you do something you’ll regret. I came here to talk about your feelings. You need to communicate with me.”

 “Let me show you what I’m trying to say… You know I can’t… Use words for this.” He mumbled, feeling the foreign feeling of nervousness gnaw at him. “I’m not going to regret it, Y/N.”

 Without waiting for a response, he removed your hands from his cheeks and instead cupped your own. “Can I kiss you?”

 You were frozen, unable to think. Was this really happening? Did he really mean it?

 Before you could answer him, you felt his soft lips gently ghost over your own, allowing you plenty time to move away if you wanted, before urgently pressing his lips onto yours. He tasted like mint, the fresh feeling making you sigh into his mouth. The tip of his tongue ran over your bottom lip, silently asking you to let him in. Tentatively parting your lips, you felt his tongue slowly slip next to your own, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting upwards to create a small grin.

 ‘Is this what it is supposed to feel like?’ he mused, feeling butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach. He never had this feeling of Irene; hell, they never kissed unless he was balls deep inside of her, and even then, affectionate kisses were few and far between. Kisses between them used to be a clash of teeth, sloppy, usually out of irritation and just to keep each other quiet because they had a child down the hallway, but this… This was different. This was right.

 Pushing his nervousness aside, he took one corner of your towel and slowly pushed it out of the way, giving you plenty time to stop him if you were uncomfortable. You didn’t stop him; you didn’t push him away – and why would you? You wanted him just as much (if not more) as he wanted you. Threading your fingers through his hair, you began kissing him harder, no longer fighting against your need for him. Even though you knew he wasn’t serious about his feelings for you, the sexual tension was too much for you to handle, especially since he looked so delectable hovering over your now naked body.

 “Knew you had fucking amazing tits.” He murmured to himself, breaking away from your lips to kiss down your neck and chest. Your towel lay underneath you, no longer a barrier between your bodies. He sucked hard on your chest, marking the flesh just above your nipple with a love bite, eliciting an audible gasp from you.

 Your arousal had begun to slowly drip out of you, the sticky fluid making your folds glisten, something that wasn’t missed by Jimin. After trailing down the length of your body, he placed a kiss over your mound, his eyes never leaving your own. With your heart beating profusely, you watched with bated breath as his eyes left yours to settle on your dripping folds.

 “You can stop me whenever you want.” He promised, struggling to contain his excitement at finally being able to taste you. Nodding at him, you watched as he spread your thighs, trailing his lips over the sensitive flesh, before abruptly sucking harshly on your inner thigh. He proceeded to do this to your other thigh as well, taking his time to get to where you needed him. After marking both your thighs, he soothingly ran his tongue over the bruised flesh, only adding to your frustration.

 “Jimin…” You quietly complained, your pussy throbbing from lack of attention. He looked up at you, laying his chin on your stomach, with a small smile on his features, making your heart stop. He was so gorgeous like this: carefree, happy.

 “I have to take my time.” He whispered sadly, his smile still on his face. “I don’t know if you’d want anything to do with me afterwards. You might leave.”

 “I’m not going anywhere.” You promised, heart wrenching at how lost he looked. Before any more words could be said, before any more reassuring sentiments could be uttered, Jimin peeled apart your folds, strands of sticky arousal visible connecting your lips. Whilst locking eyes with you, he repeatedly licked up your arousal, spreading your folds further to get him what he wants.

 His warm, soft tongue glided against your slickness, drawing soft sighs and moans out of you. Your fingers made their way into his hair, needing to feel him in some type of way as he so gently suckled on your dripping core. The pleasure engulfed your entire being, all curtesy of Jimin’s delicate mouth. Slowly, you felt him prod a finger at your honeyed entrance, resulting in a moan being drawn out of you.

 While he slowly worked his finger into your core, he leaned up and kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. As you sucked on his bottom lip, making him chuckle at you, he inserted another finger into you, making you clench around his digits.

 “Shit, baby, you’re so tight.” He groaned, feeling you contract on his fingers. “When’s the last time anyone stretched you out?”

 “Jimin!” You moaned, feeling him massage that spongey flesh inside of you while his thumb rubbing loose circles over your slightly swollen clit.

 “As much as I want to hear your moans, I need you to be quiet, baby.” He murmured onto your lips as he continued his actions. You whimpered into his mouth, unable to contain yourself. “Think you can be quiet for me?”

 He didn’t wait for a reply; instead, he removed his hot mouth from your lips and placed it right on your clit, sucking harshly. Throwing your head back from the white-hot pleasure, you bit down your moans, wanting nothing more than to please him and be quiet.

 “Pussy taste so fucking good.” He praised whilst smirking, a result of you bucking your hips further into him while biting your lip, silently asking for more. Suddenly, he gripped your hips tightly and pressed the flat of his tongue over your leaking cunt, collecting your arousal on his taste buds before swallowing the nectar down, eventually abandoning the movements to stick his stiffened tongue in your entrance repeatedly. His tongue fucked you mercilessly, relentlessly, all the while rubbing forceful circles on your clit. Pressure continued to mount in your abdomen, only amplifying the extreme pleasure Jimin was inflicting on you.

 “J-Jimin… I’m going to…” You whimpered, your hands tangled in his hair as he suddenly added two fingers in you, using his mouth to suck on your clit harshly, almost painfully. He spread his fingers into a V, stretching your tight walls, kick starting your climax.

 Your body arched off the bed, pushing your exposed breasts into the cool air. Jimin worked you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers not relenting as you continuously convulsed around him, your cum sliding down into his tongue. Your cunt throbbed, the pleasure foreign after not being stimulated for so long, yet he didn’t stop. Continuing his actions, he began to lick thick, bold stripes with his tongue, giving no sign of stopping, despite you ceaselessly pulling on his hair out of sheer overstimulation.

 “Jimin, Jimin, stop!” You whined, feeling the euphoric feeling evolve into something different. Because of your begs and pleas, his tongue relented; removing it from your pulsating clit to your lips. Tasting your cum on his tongue made you whimper, the mere thought of you tainting him was already turning you on again.

 His plump, pink lips never left your own, even when he switched from hovering over you to laying next to you, using his hands to continuously rub and knead your soft thighs.

 “You did so well for me, baby.” He praised, pulling you over his lap, making you straddle him. Subconsciously, you began to grind down onto him, feeling his hard cock through his pants. Letting out a strangled moan, he forcefully held your hips to prevent you from rubbing your slightly swollen, still glistening folds over his length. “We don’t have to go further, Y/n. Too much has been left unsaid. I just had to have a taste of you before you…”

 “You still haven’t told me if you meant what you said.” You whispered, not at all feeling awkward still being the only one who wasn’t fully clothed. “You need to get better with your emotions.”

 “I –” He choked out before looking away with tears in his eyes, causing your heart to clench. “How am I supposed to do this?”

 “Don’t cry, Jimin.” You whispered, using the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the small tear that fell. “Just tell me how you feel. I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me, right? You stood by me when no one else would. I’ll never forget how much you helped me, despite not even knowing me.”

 He slowly turned back to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and holding you tightly. You felt silent sobs wreck through him, bringing forth tears to your own eyes; but you couldn’t cry, not when he needed someone, anyone, to be there for him. While allowing the sobs to die down and ignoring the sudden wetness on your neck, you stroked his hair soothingly, wondering when’s the last time anyone encouraged him to let out his emotions, encouraged him to cry. You didn’t rush him. You knew this was more than just him and you – it was Ezra, it was his lack of emotion and affection to everyone around him.

 “I’m ready to listen whenever you’re willing to talk, okay?” You whispered, softly kissing the top of his head. The action caused him to immediately tighten his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. After a few moments, his croaky voice rang through the room.

 “I feel like the worst father in the world.” He admitted through his tears, small sniffles leaving him. “I know I should be doing better, but how? I don’t know my own son, Y/N. You’ve barely moved in and you know more about him than me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be affectionate.” He spat out the word, his tears drying on his cheeks.

 “You seemed to know how to be affectionate with me…” You said quietly, pointing out how he had become so caring when there was a sexual element. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

 “That’s different.” He admitted. “I know what you like, I know how to make you cum, I know the right things to say... That’s just sex. It’s easy for me to do all those things, but anything other than that…”

 “Keep going, baby.” You encouraged, using a pet name to show him that you are listening.

 “I’m confident enough in my body, but I’m not confident with my words.” He carefully explained, voice cracking slightly. Taking a shaky breath, he finally looked up into your eyes, finding comfort in them despite being scared, terrified even, of opening up like this. “I really like you, Y/N – oh my God, I sound like some teenager –”

 Quickly pecking him on his lips, he fell quiet, mesmerized by the softness of your lips, if only for a second. “I like it when you sound like a teenager.” You replied, no teasing tilt to your voice as you looked at him with adoration.

 “I can’t love you like anyone else can.” He admitted, still gazing into your eyes, seemingly unable to look away. “I don’t know how to, evidently because I’m already fucking divorced. But I can try. I can learn. You can teach me.” He breathed, saying everything rather quickly. “Please teach me. I can’t let you go. I need you. Ezra needs you.”

 “Jimin,” You said carefully, trying not to sound too harsh. “I’m your assistant.”

 “I don’t care.” He breathed, heart pounding through his chest. “You can move to another department if you want, but I need you in my life.”

 “What if it doesn’t work out?” You whispered, having to think all the consequences through for the both of you. He frowned at the thought of not being able to work out your relationship.

 “Then at least we tried.” He whispered back, his forehead leaning on your own. “But please give this a chance. I need you. I need this. Teach me how to love again.”

 ***

 One year later

 “Dad, I’m going to be late!” Ezra huffed, trying to move away from the hugs and kisses his father was trying to give him. Jimin elected to ignore him, kissing his forehead one more time, before Ezra ran to you, hiding behind you. “Y/N, please make him stop! Grandma’s waiting for me.”

 “Why would I stop him when I want to do the same thing?” You laughed, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses. Jimin chuckled, gathering Ezra’s backpack, various toys and paint supplies, packing them neatly. Jimin’s mother had asked Ezra to accompany her for a short holiday to the countryside, which Ezra basically jumped at.

 “Mommy, please!” He whined, making you freeze. He had never called you that, and by the silence echoing throughout the room, Jimin hadn’t expected it either. Before you could break the silence, Ezra gasped and ran over to his Grandmother, who had just walked through the open front door, hugging her tightly in greeting.

 “I’m sorry for rushing you, but we really do need to get on the road.” She apologised, all of you standing outside as Jimin placed Ezra’s luggage in the trunk of his mother’s car.

 A few minutes later, you and Jimin were waving goodbye to a retreating car. After seeing them safely off, Jimin snatched up your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it up to his lips. He still had an irrational fear of showing affection to you and Ezra when people were around, but when you were in your safe haven, he was the most affectionate person you’ve ever met.

 “Mommy, huh?” He asked while smirking, using his free hand to bring your hips to his body. You smiled and blushed in response, shrugging as if it was nothing, but inside you were jumping for joy. He planted a kiss on your lips before leading you back inside, his hands squeezing your ass gently. “So, mommy and daddy are having some alone time this weekend…”

 “Ezra didn’t call you daddy.” You laughed, walking into the kitchen to get a snack to eat.

 “Yeah, but you did.” He replied, biting his lip as you gasped, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he brought up your hidden kink that you had accidentally let slip a few nights ago. He hadn’t brought it up until now, making you think that he hadn’t heard your whines as he had been too busy fucking you senseless.

 “Park Jimin!” You chastised, swallowing hard as your hands barely grasped the ice cream pint you had gotten from the freezer. He raised an eyebrow at you, squaring his shoulders. “I didn’t think you heard me.” You admitted, blushing tomato red.

 “Oh, don’t worry, I heard you loud and clear, baby girl.” He promised, pressing his bulge against you as you leaned on the large island in the middle of kitchen. His hands found purchase in your hair, roughly yanking it backwards so that your neck was exposed. He ran his lips all over your neck, biting the flesh, leaving dark red marks.

 “Ezra is barely out the door and you’re already this horny?” You snarked, trying to hide your gasps as he sucked rather harshly on your pulse point.

 “We haven’t been able to really fuck lately.” He shrugged, lifting you up on the cold granite surface and wrapping your legs around him. “Quickies aren’t as fun as being buried in this pussy for hours and hours on end, baby.”

 “We have to go through that presentation – Jimin!”

 “Where are your panties, huh?” He teased, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt to knead your bare ass. “You’re acting like you don’t want my cock, but you aren’t even wearing anything to cover this pretty, little pussy.”

 You didn’t reply, knowing that if you did a whimper would slip out of you, only adding to Jimin’s smugness. He ran his fingers along your folds, revelling in the way thick strands of your arousal clung to his fingers, essentially coating them in your arousal. You couldn’t take it anymore, the charade of not wanting him, so you threaded your fingers through his hair, using it to bring him to your mouth.

 “Jimin, please…” You breathed, feeling his fingers dance around your clit. As you spoke, he froze, pulling away from your lips with his eyebrow raised.

 “What did you just call me?” He asked sternly, his fingers retreating from your wet cunt, only to come down hard on your clit, the slapping sound echoing throughout the kitchen. “You need to be more respectful, you little brat.”

 “Daddy…” You corrected, voice still barely above a whisper. “Daddy, please.”

 He slapped your pussy again, ensuring that whimpers left your lips. Your arousal coated his fingers, the sticky substance making his skin glint in the light.

 “Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby girl.” Jimin murmured, inspecting his shining fingers before looking you right in the eye and slipping one in his mouth. The sight alone was enough to release another gush of arousal out of you, some of your juices now coating your thighs. “Fuck, you taste good.” He groaned, sucking on his finger. He glanced up at you, his eyes showing just how smug he is. “Want to have a taste?”

 Without waiting for a reply, he placed his fingers in your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as you sucked his fingers clean. Maintaining eye contact with him, you swirled your tongue around his digits, licking him clean.

 “Like that?” He asked, eyes dark with need. With his finger still in your mouth, you nodded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “What do you want now, baby?”

 “Daddy’s cock.” You instantaneously replied, almost quivering with need. He smirked, allowing you to grind into his bulge, trying to desperately get any source of friction.

 “And what do you want to do with Daddy’s cock?”

 “Suck it.” You answered, mouth salivating at the mere thought of it. “I want to suck it and taste Daddy’s cum.”

 “Then why aren’t you on your knees?”

 Wordlessly, you hopped off of the counter, knees harshly hitting the floor, yet you couldn’t care less. Your hands messily unbuckled Jimin’s belt, precariously shoving his jeans and boxers down his muscular thighs before you began to palm him in your hand.

 “Don’t fucking tease me.” He groaned, voice deep and laced with seduction. “I still have half a mind of punishing you for being disrespectful, baby.”

 Not wanting to get punished – well, at least for now – you slipped him into your mouth, sucking gently on his tip while maintaining eye contact. You gave it a few kitten licks, sucking off his precum, you run the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock, making him grip your hair. His eyes hardened as he knew you were still teasing him, so he used his grip on your hair to push you all the way down to the hilt, making you take every inch of his cock down your throat.

 “Ah, fuck yeah, baby.” He moaned, feeling your throat muscles expand and contract as it tried to swallow all of him. Tears sprung to your eyes, the lack of oxygen evident, but it only made Jimin chuckle. “Who fucking told you to tease me, huh? You wanted my cock in your mouth, baby. Now take. It. All.”

 He punctuated every word with a thrust, increasing the tears in your eyes as well as the spit leaking out the side of your mouth. You loved it when Jimin made you take all of him, and it was evident as your arousal had slickened your thighs even more. He eventually took pity on you, pulling you off his dick as you gasped for air, your tears now streaming in rivulets down your face.

 Allowing your lungs the chance to get air, you begun using your hands to jack him off, your spittle and his precum acting as lubricant. You stared up at him as his face relaxed with pleasure, head thrown back as your hands continuously pumped his length. Eventually, when your lungs had recovered, you put him back into your mouth, bobbing your head on the parts that you could reach without choking. With your hands fondling his balls, and your hollowed-out cheeks repeatedly sucking on him, he quickly met his end.

Grabbing your hair, he once again pushed you right up against his pubic bone and shot his cum right down your throat. High pitched, melodious moans reached your ears as his orgasm hit him. The salty, tangy taste of his cum coated your taste buds, the taste alone making you clench your thighs.

 After the rush of his climax was over, you came off his dick with a ‘pop’, nuzzling your head into his thigh, clearly looking for praise. With his chest still heaving, he looked down at you, affection blooming in his eyes.

 “You always suck Daddy’s cock so well, baby.” He murmured, helping you to your feet, bringing your lips to his own. “Such a good girl, hmm? Does my baby want a reward?”

 “Swallowing your cum was my reward.” You breathed, still revelling in the feeling of having him fall apart in your mouth. He smirked, enjoying how submissive and God damn fuckable you were. His hand slipped around your throat, squeezing the sides gently, while his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.

 “Run up to our room. By the time I get there, I want you to be naked and laying on the bed for Daddy. Got it?”

 Nodding, you felt excitement bloom deep in your chest, knowing that you were truly about to be rewarded. Once he let go of your throat, you all but ran up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to please Jimin. You stripped out of your skirt and stockings before you even made it to the bed, throwing them haphazardly over your shoulder, then you began to unbutton your blouse, peeling off your bra in the process.

 Waiting with bated breath, you found yourself squirming with impatience on the cool, silky sheets. Right before you could huff out with irritation, Jimin made his appearance in all his glory. His own shirt was nowhere to be found, and his jeans hung low on his hips, giving you quite a view of his abs and defined v-line.

 He paid you no mind, walking over to the closet to rummage around in the drawers. He came back a few moments later with a pair of handcuffs and nipple clamps, as well as something shoved in his back pocket. You quivered at the thought of him tying you up; despite the amount of times it had happened, it still brought an insane amount of adrenaline to your bloodstream.

 “Good girl…” He trailed off as he took in your naked body, feeling his cock stir again. The silence in the room faded as he slipped the cuffs around your wrists, then fastened it to the headboard so that your arms were stretched above you, pushing your breasts up into the air. Using this to his advantage, he immediately snapped the clamps onto your nipples, the soft silicone doing little to soften the blow of the pinch.

 A hiss left your lips when he tugged on the chain, accentuating the pain that claimed your nipples. He tugged on it again, gauging your reaction, and smirking when you whimpered.

 “Does it hurt, baby?” He asked as he kissed your neck, sucking red blotches onto your skin. You nodded in response, causing him to smirk even further. “But you like it, don’t you? Daddy’s baby girl enjoys the pain.”

 Before you could respond to him, his lips claimed yours, quickly claiming every breath you had. After a year of being together, Jimin’s lips knew exactly how to move with your own, not to fast nor to slow. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, slowly snaking its way to your own, where it massaged it gently.

 In the midst of his lips ravishing your own, his hand slipped into his back pocket, retrieving a clit massager. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand in-between your legs, prying them apart so that he could place the toy right above your clit.

 As soon as he turned on the toy, the gentle sucking caused you to moan into his mouth. Continuing to move his tongue in tandem with yours, Jimin slowly began to circle the head of your toy around your clit, getting maddeningly close to the bundle of nerves but never actually touching it.

 “Daddy…” You whined, wiggling your hips so that he could place the toy directly on your clit. “Stop teasing!”

 “Weren’t you just teasing me when we were in the kitchen?” He cockily asked, once again circling your clit with the toy. “Remember, baby? When you weren’t giving me what I wanted?”

 “But you came!” Your argued, voice slowly becoming whinier as your stomach began to clench uncomfortably in anticipation. “I want to cum too, Daddy. Please!”

 “You want to come?” Jimin asked, amused at the way your hips were trying to angle themselves to get the stimulation directly on your clit. You nodded, arms straining against the handcuffs. “Why don’t you stop chasing the toy then, huh? Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy?”

 “I am a good girl – ah!”

 Your sentence was cut short by Jimin placing the toy right on your clit, turning the toy to its highest setting. A plethora of moans left your lips as the suction steadily grew and grew, simulating someone sucking on your clit.

 “Daddy…” You moaned weakly, the pleasure making your brain fuzzy. With the suction directly on your clit, your orgasm loomed over you, driving any other thought out of your head. Needing something to set you off, you began to buck your hips into the toy, moaning and whimpering softly. “Please let me cum, Daddy… Please…”

 “You can, baby.” He cooed into your ear, mesmerized with the way your body was lifting off of the bed to claim your orgasm. He quickly tugged on the nipple clamps, knowing that a tiny bit of pain would increase your pleasure tenfold. “Such a good little girl for Daddy, yeah? Always to ready to beg.”

 With a yelp, your climax washed over you, turning your bones to nothing and transporting your head to cloud nine. You trembled lightly on the bed, sending a rush of blood back to Jimin’s cock and making him impossibly hard. He watched with bated breath as your chest rose and fell rapidly, the nipple clamps jingling with your actions, a visual indicator of the amount of pleasure your body was facing. Once your orgasm receded, he quickly turned off the toy and replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your cum and treating it almost with reverence.

 “Daddy.” You croaked, voice almost gone due to the number of moans and whines that had left your throat just a few moments ago. Even though you had just experienced one of the best orgasms of your life, you wanted more – you wanted him. “Want you.”

 “Are you sure you can handle another one, Y/N?” He asked seriously, not wanting to push you further than you could physically go. You nodded excitedly, pulling on the handcuffs to show how ready you were. He chuckled at your eagerness, taking off the clamps off of your nipples. They were puffy and sore, but your breasts welcomed the blood flow.

 “Please fuck me.” You whispered, your cunt already clenching at the thought of being filled by Jimin’s cock. He smiled at you, his beauty taking your breath away as he stripped out of his jeans and boxers. His cock was already rock hard as it leaked pre-cum, the substance beading at the tip of his dusky pink head.

 “Want my cock, baby?” He asked, positioning himself in-between your legs. You tried to reach out to him, wanting to align his dick at your entrance and watch how he pushed into your core, but the restraints that bound your wrists prevented that. That didn’t stop you from continuously tugging on the cuffs, the metal rattling against the bed post. “Keep acting like a little brat and I’ll leave you here the entire day.”

 His threat immediately caused you to cease your actions, wanting nothing more than to feel him in you. Hearing the absence of you pulling on the restraints made him smirk up at you, knowing that you would probably do anything to have him in your cunt right now.

 “So obedient.” He mused, leaning back and stroking his length to rile you up. “My baby will do anything for my cock, hmm? Such a dirty fucking slut for my cock.”

 “Only for you, Daddy.” You promised, your breathing erratic due to seeing Jimin’s hand enclosed over his dick, lazily fisting the length. “Please fuck me. I need your cock in me.” He raised an eyebrow at you, still wanting to tease you despite being painfully hard. Your pussy clenched when he threw his head back in pleasure, fist pumping up and down his cock. “Jimin, please!”

 “Is that how you talk to me?” He snapped, sliding his length into you as his hand tightened around your neck. Without giving you time to adjust to suddenly having his entire cock in you, he began to piston out of you, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure, the feeling of having his cock force open your walls and the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck making you lose all train of thought. “Answer me, you fucking brat!”

 “Daddy!” You corrected; voice hoarse from being choked. His hand left your neck, instead using his hands to hold your hips at an angle so that he could go deeper. “I – I’m sorry, Daddy!”

 Hot tears of pleasure ran down your face, the droplets falling to your chest. “You’re crying?” He scoffed, somehow making his hips rut into you faster, your tits moving from each powerful thrust. “Is my cock too much for you to handle?” He asked, thumbing your clit, bringing more tears of pleasure to your face. You shook your head at his question, showing him just how well you could take his dick. “Hmm, good girl. Such a good slut for my cock, huh? Take it all, baby. Take every fucking inch of me in this tight pussy.”

 “Going to… Gonna cum.” You whimpered, feeling your pleasure reaching a precipice quickly. He groaned as he felt your walls hug his length even tighter due to your impending orgasm. His thumb continued to work quick, tight circles over your clit, the white-hot pleasure surging through your veins and setting off your climax. “Daddy!”

 “Ah, fuck, Y/N!” Jimin moaned, your convulsing cunt bringing about his own orgasm. Your body arched off of the bed once again, your orgasm seemingly too intense for your body to handle. Your thighs trembled and a heat rushed up to your cheeks, sweat gleaming on your body. Jimin’s cock was coated in your cum, the sheer feeling of it causing him to shoot his hot cum deep in you. High pitched curses and moans left his plump lips, ropes of his cum coating your walls as both of you tried to control your heavy breathing.

 Without pulling out of you, Jimin reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, throwing them onto the floor to join your long-forgotten clothes. Flipping you over so that you were laying on him, he kissed your raw wrists gently, despite both of your chests still heaving.

 “Thank you, baby.” He murmured, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

 “You were amazing, Jimin.” You said softly, enjoying the feeling of having his skin directly on your own. “I wouldn’t want this with anyone other than you.”

 “I love you.” He blurted, unable to contain his feelings any longer. You sucked in a breath, not believing your own ears. It was the first time he had ever said something like this. “I know it’s been a journey and a half with me, teaching me how not to be some cold asshole, but God damn, I love you, Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you; I don’t want to imagine a live without you.”

 “I love you too, Jimin.” You replied, a smile creeping on your face as your heart fluttered. “I love you more than you will ever know.”

 ***

 ↳ a/n: so that was the first instalment of my colour series! I plan on doing a one shot for each member based on meanings of a specific colour. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future one shots :)

#jimin smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts #jimin x reader #park jimin #au #bts fan fiction #bts imagines #smut

[k7l4d4]

Plane Shift: The Boiling Isles, Brief Character Portfolio

Hello all, today I am going to go into some measure of detail for the characters in this crossover between the Owl House and Dungeons and Dragons 5e. Everybody clap your hands!!

Now, to give a little heads up, the way this portfolio is set up is based on the following Format:

Character Name

Defining Quote/Motto

Alignment Inclinations

Favored Classes/Known Classes

Brief Profile

Okay, now that the format is listed, time to get into the nitty gritty!

Luz Noceda

“Limits? What are those!”

Chaotic Good/Neutral Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Order of Scribes. Secondary Class: Artificer, Subclass: Battle Smith. Tertiary Classes: Paladin, Rogue, and Bard.

The young daughter of the famed Plane Warden and Cleric, Camila Noceda, Luz has always had her head in the clouds, longing for adventure and friendship. Upon entering the Adventurer’s Academy, she proceeded to rock the very foundation of Plana and adventuring by choosing not one, not two, but FIVE classes to train in! She would’ve tried them all, but was talked out of it when they professors made it clear it would be physically impossible for her to take them all, and that the number she had selected would push her to greatest of limits. Luz lives life without limits or regret, and while her extremely impulsive nature has resulted in a rather poor social life, she is greatly beloved among the street dwellers and lower ranks of local organizations and groups of her home.

Amity Blight

“Perfection is impossible. That’s why we seek it.”

Lawful Good/Neutral Good

Primary Class: Warlock, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

The youngest child of the affluent Blight Family, recently displaced from her home dimension, Amity holds herself to a strict standard of decorum. Her methodical nature, dedication to study, and respect for authority has made her a divisive figure within the Adventurer’s Academy, as while her new instructors find her dedication admirable, they also worry it will disallow her from living a healthy and happy life. Amity regularly runs afoul of Luz, but the human girl’s friendly nature, genuine endearment, and appreciation for magic and learning has served as a bonding bridge between the two. Hints of something deeper within her heart grow clearer all the while.

Willow Park

“Nature is a blessing to us all. We have a duty to care for it, and each other.”

Neutral Good/Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Druid, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Barbarian.

The only child of the Park family, Willow is a quiet, gentle child all around, but within her lurks a frightening power over nature itself that constantly threatens to break free if not for her ironclad self-control, and kind nature. Once friends with Amity Blight, circumstances forced a rift between them, and she holds that pain as a torch within her heart, always wary of letting it burn her down to nothing but unwilling to let go. Willow’s incredible connection with Plants has made her a rare talent among the Druid classes, and she is constantly called to demonstrate her power before her new peers, much to her delight.

Augustus “Gus” Porter

“So much to learn! So much to experience!”

Neutral Good/Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

A young prodigy who skipped several grades in his home dimension, Gus is still an outstanding figure when it comes to both technical skill and application of magic. Excitable, kind if somewhat insensitive on occasion, and with a fierce need to prove himself, Gus often finds himself in difficult situations, both socially and dangerously, but he never allows it to affect his optimism. He’s rapidly built a bond with Luz over their shared passion and energy, not to mention his excitement over befriending “an actual real-life human!”

Boscha Triplet

“I saved the day! Why? Because I’m a Star of Course!”

Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Monk, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

An athletic star with an incredible ego, Boscha is by all accounts an unpleasant individual, yet since coming to Plana, she’s gradually shown signs of a more vulnerable personality, one she vehemently denies and buries within herself, much to the chagrin of others. While she initially chose Monk as a joke, thinking it of a blow-off course or something similar, the relentless physical training, and the brutally humiliating smackdown dealt on her first day have served to motivate her to continue and succeed in the Class she chose, if only out of pure spite. The philosophical aspects of Monk training seem to go over her head, yet her friends and foes alike have noted her occasionally seem to verge on saying something mean or crude, only to stop herself and stare off in contemplation.

Skara Levine

“Just go with the rhythm. Everything will work out, right?”

Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Bard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Sorcerer.

A young girl who lived at the top, Skara had many halmarks of being a potential problem child, often being easily lead and influenced by those deemed her friends, Skara is typically very sweet and outgoing, but for all her social butterfly moments, they are undercut by her poor interpersonal skills, frequently stumbling onto sensitive topics without any inclination she understood why she shouldn’t bring them up. She is a paradox, being both kind and cruel, nice and mean, in equal measures, the parallel nature of her behavior often befuddles those around her. She’s recently begun stating that she hears things suddenly when no one is around.

Emira Blight

“Don’t worry, I can handle this on my own.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Rogue, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Fighter.

The oldest daughter of the Blight family, Emira is a mischievous girl with a fondness for mayhem. Nonetheless, she cares for her family and friends, even if her methods occasionally leave much to be desired. Of the Blight Children, Emira is the most independent, often resentful of any perceived restrictions, but calm enough to find workarounds rather than lash out. She frequently professes that looks forward to the day she can live her own life, and enjoys teasing her sister along with her brother.

Edric Blight

“We got this, we just got to stick together.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Rogue, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

The lone son of the Blight family, Edric is Emira’s twin, and is in many ways both her equal and her mirror. While sharing her sense of mischief and love of tricks, Edric is far more flighty and whimsical, often hyper-fixating on animals and whatever shiny thing catches his eye, often projecting a childish air about him. He is the most insecure of the Blight siblings, though he hides it well, and dreads the idea of being alone, particularly from his twin.

Viney Arkswood

“Animals are our friends. They have just as much capacity for good as we do.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Ranger, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Druid.

One of three students sentenced to the Detention Track for their mixing of magical disciplines, Viney has a caring heart and a love of people and animals that manifested in a rather strange way, in that she attempted, and technically succeeded, in training her pet griffin to be a nursing assistant. Viney is genuinely unsure if she wishes to return, with the lone benefit in her mind being to see her parents again.

Jerbo Underslack

“I might be nervous, but that doesn’t make me incompetent.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Cleric, Subclass: Nature Domain. Secondary Class: Druid.

One of the three Detention Track students, Jerbo’s love of plants and his fondness for the idea of loyal aides combined in his creation of plant monsters that trashed the gardens of his school. Jerbo is the most suspicious and leery of his friends, often being slow to trust and even slower to act, he nonetheless is a kind soul, and used his admittance into the Adventurer’s Academy to try and kind some new meaning in his life.

Barcus Howsberry

“Your soul glimmers with the joy of a newfound toy in the arms of a lonely child.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

Last and oddest of the three Detention Track students, Barcus’ unusual body and strange speech make him truly bizarre, and his cryptic demeanor doesn’t help. Barcus enjoys both the art of Potions and Prediction, and frequently seeks to join the two. Upon arrival, and confirmation that yes he is a sapient being, Barcus was checked by Camila, and was determined to have a hereditary curse bound to his being, and when offered to have it removed, his comfort with his form initially made him refuse, only to be told that the speech impediment and oddness of his form would destroy any chance of him being able to integrate into society, causing him to compromise and have the curse suppressed instead.

Camila Noceda

“To bring goodness and love in this world means I can rest easy, knowing I left it in the hands of those I love.”

Lawful Good

Primary Class: Cleric, Subclass: Life Domain. Secondary Class: None.

Mother of Luz Noceda, Camila is the current Plane Warden of Plana, being entrusted with guarding the city from extraplanar threats and to help guide and aid those lost between realms. Camila is a loving soul, but the strain of her job has worn on her over the years, with the sole reprieve being her precious daughter. Camila often adopts a motherly role for the displaced children now in her care, offering both advice when needed, and discipline as necessary. Camila also frequently aids and offers advice to the adults now sharing her living space, hoping to help them adjust to their situation.

Edalyn Clawthorne

“I’m the most powerful witch in the Isles, but it never meant a thing until I found someone to use that power for.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Sorcerer, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Wizard.

Fiercest Wild Witch to grace the Boiling Isles since Belos’ ascension, Eda marches to the beat of her own drum, no exceptions, but she still holds a beautiful heart for those she cares for, and people in general, no matter how much she denies it. Eda was genuinely shocked to learn that Camila could, and did, heal her curse, effectively if not easily, and feels a deep sense of obligation towards the woman a a result, not to mention her all around soft spot for Camila’s daughter. Eda genuinely has no desire to return to the Isles at this point, beyond maybe a chance to reconcile with her mother and retrieve Hooty and all her stuff.

Lilith Clawthorne

“I am far from perfect, and have made many mistakes. This is the least I can do.”

Lawful Good/Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Paladin, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Wizard.

Lilith Clawthorne, elder sister to Eda, means well, but is both painfully naive and far too trusting for one her age, as well as disturbingly childish and immature. For all that though, Lilith holds a good heart and thrives in a structured and ordered environment and system. When she received the knowledge that Eda’s curse had been cured, Lilith was nearly left catatonic, as the curing of Eda rendered all her efforts meaningless and her life without true purpose. When Eda bluntly stated that even with her curse cured she will NEVER join a coven, Lilith forced herself to accept it, no matter how much it hurt. Since that day, Lilith has attempted to find a new direction in life, and to help others as best she can.

Odalia Blight

“Like it or not, one’s word is their bond.”

Lawful Neutral/Lawful Evil

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

Matriarch of the Blight family, and a near-Karen level individual, Odalia is both incredibly goal-oriented and driven by a desire to succeed. Domineering and controlling, Odalia exerts a highly unhealthy and toxic level of influence over her childrens’ lives, though she does truly love them. Odalia enjoys having the upper hand, and will do anything to allow her children and family to not only survive but thrive, and is very much fond of disproportionate retribution against her enemies.

Alador Blight

“This could prove interesting.”

Lawful Neutral/Lawful Evil

Primary Class: Artificer, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Rogue.

Patriarch of the Blight family, and all around bizarre individual, Alador cares for little in his life aside from his inventions, his wife, and his children, in that order. Often dazed and easily distracted, Alador is highly curious and constantly seeks new inspiration for his devices and creations, no matter how dangerous the circumstances. He cares little for his wife’s antics and schemes, but in no way does he find them unacceptable, he often acts as a stabilizing influence upon her, and is perfectly fine with calling her out on her behavior when she genuinely goes too far.

Hieronymus Bump

“Dedication and Focus are important, but true passion and joy for what you do makes all the difference.”

Neutral Good/Lawful Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: None.

Principal to the famed, some would say infamous, Hexside School of Magic and Demonics, Principal Bump loves to teach and help others learn, and is perfectly willing to play the system to ensure he can do so. While he genuinely loves all his students and wishes them to succeed, he is willing to admit he is old-fashioned to a certain extent and can have trouble keeping his views on a topic unbiased, and can occasionally act in unethical ways if it means finding a solution to a problem, though he does not enjoy such measures. He aids Camila in searching for a way to return home for him and his fellows, and often acts as a reasonable authority figure for the students who came with them.

#the owl house #owl house au #owl house crossover #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and dragons crossover #dungeons and dragons au #luz noceda #camila noceda #amity blight #alador blight #edric blight #emira blight #odalia blight #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #willow park #gus porter #boscha the owl house #skara the owl house #principal bump #viney the owl house #jerbo the owl house #barcus the owl house

[victoryclaimedarchived]

since a few people liked my post about her last night, i decided i'd post her info here ! ( death mention tw. )

bonus younger haruhi !

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Haruhi Makoto NICKNAME(S): N/A PREFERRED NAME(S): Haruhi ( by those she is close to and familiar with ), Makoto by those she is not familiar with / her students BIRTH DATE: July 3rd AGE: 30 ZODIAC: Cancer GENDER: Female PRONOUNS: she/her SPECIES: Human ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual NATIONALITY: Japanese LIVING CONDITIONS: apartment near U.A ( pre-dorms ), on U.A campus ( post-dorms ) CODENAME: AMARA 

BACKGROUND

SOCIAL CLASS: Lower Class EDUCATION LEVEL: U.A graduate   FATHER: Yamato Takayuki, deceased MOTHER: Ren Takayuki, deceased SIBLING(S): None BIRTH ORDER: N/A CHILDREN: Kosuke Makoto PET(S):  Ichiro, a siamese cat ( reference ) OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: None PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: Kaoru Makoto, deceased  ARRESTS?: None. PRISON TIME?: None.

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Teaching at U.A High ( Teacher for Heroic Defenses / 1-C Homeroom teacher ) SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Hero work through her agency  TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: N/A APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: Varies CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: Haruhi often times misses working out in the field but now only does so when necessary. However, she wouldn’t have accepted a position at U.A if she didn’t enjoy teaching. PAST JOB(S): Various SPENDING HABITS: aruhi is very careful with her spending. With it just being her and her son, she wants to make sure they can live comfortably and that means only buying what is neccessary. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION(S):  Her wedding ring that she keeps locked in her drawer at home.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 7/10 OFFENSE: 7/10 DEFENSE: 10/10 SPEED: 8/10 INTELLIGENCE: 8/10 ACCURACY: 9/10 AGILITY: 8/10 STAMINA: 9/10 TEAMWORK: 8/10 TALENTS: Cooking, baking, sewing, playing the violin, making sweaters for cats ( mostly for Ichiro ), tba LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: Japanese, English DRIVE?:  Yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: No. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: No. RIDE A BICYCLE?: Yes. SWIM?: Yes. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: Yes. PLAY CHESS?: No. BRAID HAIR?: Yes TIE A TIE?: Yes PICK A LOCK?: Yes. POWER(S)/ABILITY(IES): Haruhi’s quirk is SOLID ENERGY. Her quirk allows her to solidify her energy and use it however she sees fit ! During her years as a U.A student, she was training to get it to work as a sword, but after her husband’s death, she switched her tactics primarily over to defensive moves. Though she can still manifest her energy into a sword, she prefers to use SHIELDS and force field type shields during RESCUES.

The time limit and strength of the shield depend on how much energy she has. Her time limits, depending on how she uses her quirk, range from 5 minutes to half an hour. If she pushes herself, she can reach an hour but risks passing out in the battlefield.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Riza Hawkeye VOICE CLAIM: tba  EYE COLOR: Pink HAIR COLOR: Blonde SCENT: Apples & watermelon HAIR TYPE/STYLE: Mid-back, straight ( reference ) GLASSES/CONTACTS?:  No/No DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous  HEIGHT: 5'4" WEIGHT: 120 lbs BUILD: Mesomorph EXERCISE HABITS: routine varies day to day SKIN TONE: Peachy, warm tones. TATTOOS: tba. PEIRCINGS: Ears. MARKS/SCARS: Varying in size and shape all over her body from her days at U.A and when she was much more active at her agency. NOTABLE FEATURES: Her eyes. USUAL EXPRESSION: Stern, but not unkind CLOTHING STYLE: casual ; hero gear ( reference ) ALLERGIES: None. BODY TEMPERATURE: Average.  DIET: tba ; healthy  PHYSICAL AILMENTS: None.

PSYCHOLOGY

MYERS-BRIGGS TYPE: tba ENNEAGRAM TYPE: tba MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good TEMPERAMENT: tba ELEMENT: tba PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: tba APPROXIMATE IQ: tba MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: Depression, PTSD, anxiety EMOTIONAL STABILITY: tba OBSESSION(S): tba COMPULSION(S): tba PHOBIA(S): tba ADDICTION(S): tba DRUG USE: No. ALCOHOL USE: No. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?:  No.

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: Calm, confident. ACCENT: None. QUIRKS: tba HOBBIES: Hanging out with friends, trying new foods, coming up with new ways to test her students HABITS: tba NERVOUS TICKS: goes to touch her left ring finger ( though the ring is no longer there ) DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: Trying to make the world a better place so that people don’t have to senselessly die FEARS: Losing Kosuke, getting hurt enough that Kosuke would lose her POSITIVE TRAITS: loyal, determined, kind, patient, protective, energetic NEGATIVE TRAITS: guarded, doesn’t like to talk about her negative emotions, stubborn, cautious SENSE OF HUMOR:  silly ; soft DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: No CATCHPHRASE(S): None.

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: tba GREATEST FEAR: tba MOST AT EASE WHEN: tba LEAST AT EASE WHEN: tba WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: tba BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: tba BIGGEST REGRET: tba. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: tba. BIGGEST SECRET:tba TOP PRIORITIES: tba

Teacher of HEROIC DEFENSES and homeroom teacher to class 1-C, Makoto Haruhi is a person who has seen, first hand, what the life of being a hero is like and how it can affect a person. Despite her hardships and pain, she continues to strive to be the best role model she can be, someone her students can turn to should they need someone to listen.

Caring and determined, she is also a mother of a ten year old boy named Kosuke, who is the splitting image of her, and her time as a mother, she believes, has helped her become a better teacher. Her son will sometimes sit in on her classes when his own is out of school.

Haruhi was seventeen when she met Makoto Kaoru, a promising young man, with a speed quirk, who had started working at her agency the year before she began there herself. The chemistry was instant, and though they both denied any feelings towards one another, they eventually gave in and began dating soon after Haruhi’s eighteenth birthday. They were drawn to each other like moths to a flame and they were head over heels for one another.

Within the year, they were married and moved in together, planning out their entire lives ; children, vacation spots—and all was well until Kaoru’s brother was killed by a villain a year later. Kaoru, always driven by his emotions, was swallowed by grief and revenge. Despite Haruhi’s best efforts and those of their friends, Kaoru would stop at nothing. Though she and friends showed up to help Kaoru fight, they had gotten there too late, after Kaoru had been gravely injured.

Haruhi had been the one to catch him, using her quirk to throw up a shield around them as others fought to take the villain down. It was in this moment, when Kaoru realized he would not live much longer, that Haruhi told him through her sobs that they were going to have a baby. With his dying breath, Kaoru apologized for rushing ahead, regretting that he would not be there for their child. Eventually, Haruhi had to be pried away from her deceased husband, and after the funeral, her friends helped her move from their home into a tiny apartment.

She took a break from the heroics, instead earning a job at U.A as their heroic defenses teacher, where she decided to stay even after Kosuke was born.

#ooc. #death mention tw.

[critical-thinking-is-mandatory]

okay okay okay back to this one Schitt’s Creek AU i poked at a while ago that I’m now calling “Povo in Paris”. Gabriel’s accountant (who just so happened to handle both his personal finances and the company’s) has been embezzling money for uh...quite a while and then one day fucks off to idk the Swiss Alps or smth and adopts the name Henrique Ferguson and also the not insignificant fortune now in his possession.

Gabriel doesn’t find out about this until idk debt collectors or the people who reclaim stuff for the bank rock up instead of his personal chef one morning because duh no one’s gonna work for Gabriel for free and the chef hasn’t been paid in a fortnight.

Nathalie, being the unfortunate sap and class-traitor she is, decides to move Gabriel and Adrien into her flat since their mansion is now in possession of the bank or smth. And well, because Gabriel’s no longer paying her, and Nathalie’s not earning as much as she used to working as a hotel receptionist (because it’s not exactly like anyone wants a secretary who may or may not have been involved in embezzling billions of dollars) Gabriel and Adrien have to get real jobs.

Seeing as Gabriel only got his company because of the connections he had with Emilie and Audrey Bourgeois, and he never had any real tertiary qualifications that could at least get him an entry-level position at like a law firm or a trade of some kind, he ends up having to get a job in customer service and he hates it.

Gabriel barely makes it through his training before he’s fired for his absolutely horrid customer service skills. This happens at least six times because I enjoy seeing him suffer.

Adrien, no longer in the running to inherit billions, is suddenly significantly less popular with his fans. Lila drops him like a hot potato. He also gets an after-school and weekend job mostly out of curiosity. Needless to say he doesn’t enjoy it. At. All. He’s probably delivering groceries or fast food or something and he may or may not spend a lot of his time skipping shifts or trading them off to coworkers because, lol, being working class sucks he’s just gonna hang with his friends.

Except of course he needs money to do things like buy ice-cream or movie tickets or pool entry. So of course, instead of going back to work he pawns off some of the things he managed to keep, like the odd designer jacket, some video games and stuff. Some of his more hardcore fans put up enough fuss that he makes an account to sell stuff like idk hair clippings or used tissues for frankly absurd amounts of money.

Most of the class are torn between feeling sorry for Adrien and calling it karma for being so rich in the first place.

Chloe, of course being Chloe, is horrified at having been associated with Adrien for so long and is worried about his now ‘working class’ status tainting her own image so she’s basically abandoned him. Adrien’s like huh?? TToTT but but but friend?? And someone like Nino or Marinette is like wellllll we always said she was a bitch. You just didn’t listen.

Maybe Adrien and Gabriel learn some important life lessons, maybe they don’t. Point is they’re poor now and it makes life suck for them. And coincidentally better for everyone else because suddenly Hawkmoth and Mayura are too busy doing real jobs to spend all day locked in a dark room waiting for someone to feel sad.

#ml #povo in paris #schitts creek au #lets just say i love the idea of rich people suddenly floundering when they no longer have their cushion of millions/billions to rest on #gabriel agreste #adrien #nathalie

[msilwrites]

(A 3AM Short Story) - (SHORT 1/2) - The Dark Knight

A/N: Hi guys, I have a lot of drafts I've been editing inside the draft folder of my Tumblr page. Sorry that I have not published them, I'm aware I make a lot of grammar mistakes, therefore, just I want them to be written properly, for it to have a strong narrative voice and can be easily understood.

Nonetheless, here is one of them...

Let me add, I'm actually busy updating my other stories, so do standby for that!

Cast -

'Q' is an Original Character

'K' / Kieran Sorensen - Mads Mikkelsen

WARNING: SEXUAL TENSIONS.... you need cold water!

The Dark Knight

Even before Q was known as 'Q', she was first a trainee under 'K' or Kieran, her commanding officer. However, she didn't expect to work beside him after finishing her training and working for the MI6. Neither did she expect that he was preparing her to take over once he steps down. That he wanted her to succeed him.

It all started when she entered the training programme. He had interviewed her for the first time, whilst holding on to the piece of paper which contained information about her background.

A woman who spent her primary education in Dragon School, and a secondary education at top international school in Shanghai, before graduating tertiary in Cambridge. With these, she could've been considered a 'strong candidate'.

"Privileged..." was his reply, upon reading everything. He clearly wasn't impressed. "You're probably very intelligent, but do you have grit?"

She gulped nervously and was thankful enough that she didn't write anything about her grandfather being an admiral or her father being an officer.

She remembered what he had told her clearly the first time, which is why it was a surprise to her that he considered her as a 'successor'.

Her job was something classified, she was not a field agent, but her duty was akin to that of a chess player, a tactician, a strategist and her chess pieces, were the agents under her command. And the playground was the operations she led and handled. And after a long time, she became good at it.

Throughout the years, she slowly got the hang of it, and finally earned the respect of her colleagues and superiors, specially Keiron, who had eventually become fond of her.

Everything was fine until she received a piece of devastating news.

Q's mother had committed suicide and her sister had a breakdown. At first, she couldn’t believe it. She knew her mother would never do such a thing! Didn’t she just remarry a good man who also happens to be wealthy? and had told her that she is in love with her new husband? That didn’t sound like the jovial mother she had often talked to over the phone. But as the details and truth began to resurface, everything became clearer...

As Q dug deeper for the truth, receiving the suicide note, her mother’s diary, the Private Investigator’s report and her sister’s story, one thing became clear; the cause of her family’s ruin was her mother’s new husband; Vincenzo Rosello.

Much to the family’s dismay, the truth was something painful to learn. Q broke down and cried. She considered dropping everything, just to get to her sister.

Her sister Helene, according to the report given to her by the investigator, was locked up in a private mental institution/ rehab in Mallorca and was given medication that had kept her mind blank every day.

Her grandfather and father were willing to do anything to get Helene rescued. But Q knew that if both her grandfather and father made a move, it will cause a diplomatic problem for the country. It was enough pretext for them that they should not intervene or try anything. Besides, the fact that the information was classified and Vincenzo Rosello was no ordinary man, makes it no easy task for her grandfather and father who holds high positions in the government, compared to her, a 'small fly'. So Q talked her family out of it and took it upon herself to rescue her sister, whatever it took.

At first, Q leaks the story to BBC News and CNN through an agent contact in Madrid, believing that public sympathy and pressure would force the country to intervene. However, Kieron Sorensen had done something, causing the networks to retract the news as a hoax.

Q was angry of course, upon learning of what happened. But she couldn't show it, and couldn't let anyone know that it was her who had leaked the information.

She didn't know what was coming for her until Kieron summoned her to his office.

"Ah, Q, please take a seat," Kieron offers, as she closes the door behind her. She had a feeling he might try to pry something out of her, but whatever it was, she decided that she will not admit to anything.

"What did you call me for?"

"Straightforward as always! Well, do you remember the painting at the museum that we saw?" he starts.

She scratches her head and thought how random the question was. "Which painting?"

"In front of the painting where I first handed you your badge," he said.

She suddenly remembered the event years ago, when he had welcomed her officially to the agency, by giving her a gun and badge inside a box, at a gallery, right in front of a painting. It looked more like a transaction between two people instead of a 'welcome' due to its secret, unnoticeable nature.

"Yes... what about it?"

"What was the painting again?" he asked.

"A knight and a lady," was her answer.

"A yes! 'A knight and his lady'! remember what I told you that time?"

"That there is no knight in shining armour to the rescue, that you are your own knight..." she casually mentions.

"And?" asking her to continue.

"That we should not aspire to be white knight, but a 'dark knights'" she rolls her eyes, thinking that this was a waste of time. "If there is anything else, I would like to go. I have a lot more paperwork to do,"

Kieron smiled " I am glad you remember, what is this then?" he pushes a paper towards her, containing the report that was leaked to the networks.

" I do not know what is this about?" she feigns ignorance.

His handsome face twists into a cynical smile. "Oh Q, isn't that your sister in the news?"

"Yes, I can see that, but we have been estranged ever since our parents divorced..." she lied. In fact, she almost communicated with them every day.

"I see..." Kieron folds his hands and takes a long hard look at her, which made her uncomfortable, but she was not going to give anything away. "I just want to remind you not to play the 'Dark Knight' in this situation. I'm not saying it was you who did this but consider the position your family would be in."

"Is that a threat, Director?" she clenched her teeth.

"No, it's a warning..." was his response, followed by a handsome smile, that she had so wanted to punch.

"Duly noted..." was her resigned response.

"I'm glad you understand, we have to always choose and preserve the greater good..."

"Greater good? so you want me to abandon my sister?" her voice was strained, as anger began to rise within her.

"I never said that... What I'm saying is, incidents like this can be considered as something against the agency and the government "

"I am aware of that and don't need you to remind me..." was her curt reply.

"I will not tolerate insubordination, and I will not back you up or rescue you if you continue this," he adds.

"I did not break any rules..." was her firm response, bent on not admitting anything.

" If that is so, you are to take a two-week compassionate leave,"

"I don't need it, I have a lot of work to do," she says, brushing it off.

"It's not a request, it's an order..." was his stern reply. "You're not into step into the office within those two weeks,"

"You can't do that?! I have a lot of work to do, and people who depend on me," she insists. She knew the moment she leaves the office, she will be unable to access some resources needed to rescue her sister.

"That's all taken care of," he said nonchalantly.

She felt her plans fall apart. It was obvious why Kieron was doing this. And that is to prevent her from taking any action, and this made her extremely frustrated.

" You have 2 days to finish whatever you can. After that, surrender your access card and gun before you go..." he adds, which finally broke the camel's back.

In a fit of anger, Q bolts out of her seat and attacks Kieran, pulling his arm forward, and punches his face the moment she had close the distance, which caught him off guard.

But a seasoned combatant like Kieron had recovered quickly and caught her body, swung her into his back and slammed her hard on the table.

Q, flinched in pain, but was not one to give up, countered his attack by trying to lock his arm, forcing him into submission. However, he was able to free himself from it and back throws her, causing her to land on the nearby couch with a loud thud.

But before she could even recover, Kieron had already gone on top of her and held both her wrist above her head, pinning her down the couch in a compromising position.

He leans close to her face and whispers to her ears, "You do that again, I will not be as merciful..."

She felt goosebumps on her neck with what he did. It was no mistake, she was turned on. It was also not a big help that Kieron is a handsome man. She did not want to look at him in the eye, or the feelings that she had withheld inside her, for him, all these years, might just spill...

He drags her back up and buttons the top part of her shirt, which she had not noticed was open. Some of the buttons were gone due to the physical altercation that had happened between them earlier. Her face felt warm as she looked away, as the gesture felt sensual and intimate. A significant other is supposed to do these things, not your boss! And certainly not after a fight!

He stilled her and gently tilted her chin to meet up his gaze. For a moment she was lost in his citrine eyes.

"Don't cause trouble, I would hate to lose you..." he whispered, and it felt more of a warning. "Go..." he turns around and walks back to his table, waving her off.

"Damn him..." she muttered under her breath as she went back to her small office. She had only two days to do her work, in addition to getting whatever resources she needs to rescue her sister. If Kieron thought this setback will discourage her, then he is wrong.

**********

After two days of work, the moment she had reached home, she had finally decided to go off-grid. She knew the moment she had left the agency, Kieron would've probably put her under watch list.

Pushing a heavy bookshelf on the side, the self glided easily despite its weight, revealing a small secret room with a vault inside her apartment. On one part of the shelf, was two fake passports and identity cards she had procured over the years, on one part was a thick clipping of the currency 'Euros'. She takes them and throws packs into her bag, before coming back for the vault, and taking another handphone.

She leaves her handphone on the bedside table and didn't plan on taking it with her to Spain. Kieron surely would use it to track her and she couldn't risk anyone knowing her plans and ruin them.

But before leaving, she messages her father;

'Perseus is coming for Andromeda'

**********

Mallorca, Spain

Q was not surprised that it was raining hard the moment she arrived at Mallorca. It was after one of their coldest seasons.

She wasted no time and immediately embraced her new identity, Geórgia Santos, a woman from Terrassa who will work as the cleaner at the psychiatric hospital where her sister, Helene is confined.

She eventually took on her role well, and immediately gained the respect of the medical staff within a few days of working as a cleaner. She even gained information who are some of the patients, through gossip with the nurses.

By the end of the week, she learned that the forbidden room she wasn't allowed to enter was the same room Helene is solely confined in. Not only because it was guarded. Moreover, thrice a week, a man comes to visit the room and stays there for almost a whole day, and he would ask the staff about his 'prisoner' in the room.

Upon learning the whole truth, she had sneaked in one night into her sister's room and found her in a state any family member would not like to see. Her informer was right, Helene was kept mentally blank every day. She had eventually bribed the nurse and the doctor assigned in Helene's room for information and their silence. According to the nurse she had bribed for information, the ‘stepfather’ would often visit Helene and stay at her quarters for a ‘very long time'.

Flabbergasted, Q calls out the nurse for not doing anything. But the nurse reasons that the ‘stepfather’ is a powerful man and they themselves were afraid to go against him. When she made it known that she wanted to take Helene from the institution and bring her back to England, the nurse and the doctor, though feeling guilty, advised her not to, as Vicenzo Rosello will not allow it. It will put the whole staff in jeopardy.

When she promised a way out, and a way to cripple Vicenzo, so that he would not misdirect his anger. Both of them immediately agreed and cooperated.

"Saint George, has seen the dragon" she sends another cryptic message to her father. What it actually meant is that she had seen Vicenzo.

The messaging window indicated 'typing' for a long time. She knew her father was holding back the anger, he was surely thinking of giving an order to kill. But no, he seems to have thought it through.

"Saint George should not slay the dragon," was his response followed by "Yet...".

Q chuckled upon receiving the message. Oh, the many ways they plan to hurt Vicenzo. After all, killing him immediately is an easy way out. They should torment him every chance they get, after what happened to her mother and Helene.

Unbeknownst to the agency, within her two last days before her compassionate leave. She had forged a directive signed by the agency's head to begin "Operation Persues" a rescue mission that is spearheaded by the SAS that she had developed within a short amount of time as 'Plan B" for her own attempt to rescue her sister.

On the night of the extraction, the moment the power was cut, Q hurriedly rushed to the floor where her sister was confined. The guards were out so she was able to easily enter her room.

When she entered Helene's room, she found her sleeping soundly in the dark, much to her relief. She checks her watch to see how much time she has. She could carry her sister to the nearby coastline herself where a boat is supposedly waiting for them, or wait for the soldiers she assigned to guide them there.

Her plan was to get Helene to Madrid and have her transported via car (as she was not mentally stable) to the south of France where their grandfather was waiting for them.

She felt her hands grow cold, as the clock ticks. The guards will be back any time now, and she has no gun to neutralize them if it comes into an altercation.

Suddenly, there was a sharp sound of a suppressor, followed by a loud thud on the floor. There was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal an imposing figure standing in the door frame, dressed in black night ops camouflage, with a large rifle. A normal person would probably be scared if they see him. After all, he looked like the stuff of 'nightmares' specially with his face covered, and his eyes were night-vision lenses that made him look like a multi-eyed monster.

"She's not stable," she whispers to the man. " I'm afraid of her waking up, and causing a commotion. "

The man nodded in understanding, before signalling another soldier outside of the room to come in.

The other soldier takes out a syringe containing a sedative to calm Helene down, in case she wakes up. In any other situation, Q would be fine, doing it to the target. She had carried out a lot of operation that needed this course of action. But now that they're doing it to her sister, she felt a little conflicted.

Another soldier enters the room and carries Helene out carefully. The first soldier, who first entered the room pulls out a gun from one of his armour's holsters and hands it to her.

"Thank you," she says softly, glad that he was considerate enough to give her a weapon to defend herself.

In a few minutes time, the power will come back, they needed to get to the nearby coastline by foot, as the sound of the car can attract attention this late at night, at a quiet place like this.

The smell of the incoming rain was obvious to her, the moment they stepped out of the hospital, they needed to get to the boat before the rain falls. There were 5 soldiers, and the boat can only carry 5 people, which meant two should stay ashore, and leave in another way.

"I will see you at Bordeaux, give her to the Admiral as instructed..." she says, referring to her grandfather, as she instructs the soldiers and they respond with a nod. She trusted them enough to carry their duty. Moreover, it wasn't the first time working with the SAS.

She watched as the boat left the shore, and turned away once she can no longer see them in the distance.

Turning her attention back to the soldier who stayed behind with her, she realized that it was the same person who first entered the room earlier and passed her a gun. Though she could not see his face like the rest of them, it was his aura that separates him from his team. He seemed like a very seasoned soldier and she wouldn't be surprised if he was, as her guest and observations were often right.

"Thank you for staying behind, I do not know if you have a plan B, but I'll take care of us here, from now on. And we'll be back in London before you know it!" she tries to convince him, but he did not respond and just stared at her. She sighed in resignation and asks him to follow her, as the rain began to fall.

Not far from the hospital was a small cabin she had rented as her temporary quarters.

"Come in..." She opens the door and holds it open for him.

The moment they entered the house, he was met with countless papers, photographs, stuck on a corkboard, and a few, small spy tech, including a laptop. The rest, was just a small kitchen, a small fireplace, bathroom, a queen-size bed, and a small couch, nothing more, nothing less. The small house looked like an operational briefing room, instead of living quarters.

"I'm sorry about the mess, I'll burn them once we leave, go make yourself at home. You must be tired so you can take my bed and I won't mind it, I'll sleep on the couch" she uttered mindlessly, as she started packing some of the equipment for more space. "Besides, I need to forge a few papers here and there to get us out of here, I'll buy you new clothes tomorrow too," she adds, turning towards him, still without a response.

"So, uhh... I don't plan on seeing you in the raw, so... just cover yourself up with a blanket" she sighed, though she meant well, not wanting him to stay in his damp clothes, she felt sorry for the guy. He probably thinks she's a weird pervert now for saying that carelessly. "Sorry, I came unprepared for this part. I didn't know it will rain..." she reasons.

The man finally sits down on the couch and makes himself comfortable, and began slowly dismantling his rifle.

She heaved another sigh, before remembering the gun he has handed her earlier on. "Ah yes, I almost forgot, here's your gun, I-" she paused for a moment and disarmed it, removing the silencer and the bullets and then she felt a certain texture on one side of the gun and saw an engraved quote;

'This is a tool, I am the weapon'

There was no mistake, this was her gun that the agency confiscated before she left for her 2 weeks leave. How did a special ops soldier end up having it?

She looked at him confused. "H-How did you?"

The man's answer was silence and then he took off his night visions goggles and his mask, only to reveal Kieran, underneath the camo.

"Shit..." she muttered under her breath, as alarms started ringing inside her head. This operation was unsanctioned, to begin with, and the only way she was able to carry it was by using her and her father's money, forging signatures for approval and unprofessionally using the companies resources to carry out the rest, which she knew she had distorted the evidence so that they will not find out.

"How... how did you-?" she was lost for words.

"You made a small blunder... that's how I found out..." he says sternly, as he slowly approached her, his expression was cold. She knew what was coming. He was going to kill her in cold blood. It didn't matter if she was his prodigy and that they've been colleagues for a decade, or that he was fond of her. Kieran was first and always a cold-blooded assassin/operative, even before he became the division head. She heard the stories, and she witnessed how cold and cruel he could be. Nor does he take betrayal well. And this unsanctioned operation is considered betrayal in the agency's eyes, and his. And what happens when one commits 'insubordination? if lucky they can get away with getting court-martialed if not, they are 'neutralized'.

Unfortunately, she will be getting the latter.

But she didn't want to die. She wanted to reunite with her family, to finally be there for Helene, after years apart. To finally mourn her mother properly. She didn't want her family to have another person to mourn for. She wants to live, and she will fight to live.

Wasting no time, she throws the gun at his face, as she didn't have enough time to re-assemble everything.

"Fuck..." Kieran cursed under his breath when the heavy metal hits his chests and was followed by the silencer before she made a run for it outside.

*****

The backwoods was dark, and she almost tumbled down, running. Especially now that it rained heavily, the place was slippery. This setback was certainly something she didn't expect. She needed to gather her thoughts and think of a plan C. She did remember that she had kept backup 'necessities' in a locker at the port. She just needed to get there safely and get Kieron off her trail.

However, before she could make her next move. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, swung her to his shoulders, and then throws her back down into the ground.

"That's for earlier..." Kieran mentions as he circled around her.

"This is not fair, I thought you were a gentleman!" she says, in spite of the situation.

"I am... I haven't injured you yet, haven't I?" was his playful remark. "Get up!"

She struggled to get up and glared at him. " You think this is a game?"

"And you thought I wasn't serious when I warned you? Remember, every action has a consequence and this is yours..."

She finally gets up and rushes forward to attack him. He immediately blocks her fist, but she kicks his knees, breaking his stance.

He quickly recovers and prepares for an attack, but she had jumped at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and using the force of her momentum to throw him back down to the ground. She quickly grabs his back leg and twists it.

Quickly wrapping her legs around his, she cranks it the wrong way, pulling it forward, hyperextending it, in an attempt to dislocate and cripple him.

He screams in pain, as she put him into a kneebar submission. However, he quickly counters her move by kicking the back of her knee with his free leg and freeing his other leg out in the process.

Unable to continue the kneebar, Kieron immediately grapples with her once he was free. But she was too quick and got away quickly.

"Not bad..." he laughs.

She tried to catch her breath and glared back at him. She rather escapes than prolong this fight. Fighting against a veteran like Kieron is futile. However, before she could make a run for it, he moves forwards and quickly strikes her in the gut, causing her to lose air and then consciousness.

**********

It was 4 am according to her clock when she gained consciousness once again and found herself with her arms tied up to the bedpost.

The only thing that serves light in the room was the small fireplace, and Kieron was in front of it smoking a cigarette, with nothing but a blanket on, wrapped around his waist.

If this was any other situation, this was a wet dream come true. She had always been curious about the body underneath those sharp custom made, Saville-Row suits and smart apparel he wore to work. He was like those silver fox models that were displayed in GQ and not once did she see him undone and raw like this. Heck, he looked good even when doing violent interrogations.

His body was muscularly lean and well-toned, with scars here and there. In short words, he's damn hot.

She sighs and takes in the sight before her. It was probably the last thing she would see and remember him for before he ends her life.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

"Put a shirt on... you're ugly..." was her rude response.

He laughs out loud and stares at her.

"Just kill me..." she pleads. She was not willing to go through torture and interrogation, and she knew that was coming next.

He gets up and seats down on the side of the bed. "But I'm not done with you yet...." he whispers.

" We can be done in a minute, I will tell you everything. I admit to it. I forged all your signatures for approval, used the agencies resources to gather information and used my own savings to fund this operation. That is all... now... do what you have to do..." she says in resignation. "And do it quick, I don't want it to be painful" she adds.

He takes out a knife and she closes her eyes shut, preparing for what's next. However, to her surprise, Kieran cuts of the rope binding her arms instead, before walking away and sitting back down in front of the fireplace.

"Kieron..." she calls his name whilst rubbing the lacerations on her wrist.

"You're a fool, you know?... I've advised you many times to not do this..."

"The agency will..." she began but he quickly cut her off.

"They're not aware, I've cleaned it up for you..." was his simple response.

"Why-why? you said...-"

"I'm not that heartless that you and others make me out to be..." he says nonchalantly, waving it off. "You're not trained as a covert agent... do you know how worried I was when I found out?"

"Who are you to care? we're nothing but colleagues and your nothing but the heartless department director who wants results! I am well aware that I am just your pawn!" She shook her head. Kieron Sorenson was too cold to even care. " Please save me the pretence..."

He glares back at her and gets back up to approach her. Closing in the distance like a predatory animal and she was his prey.

"Kieron... I-" before she could say anything, he crushed his mouth against hers and much to his surprise, she did not protest or struggle and welcomed it wholeheartedly. Returning the kiss with equal intensity.

He tried in vain to slow down and pull away for them to catch their breath. Only to find her looking back at him with longing eyes.

"Since when?" she asked. Of course, she was confused by this sudden 'confession'. She may admit that she does have a secret crush on the cold-blooded director. But not once did she expect that he had affection for her too.

"The museum..." he whispers huskily, referring to the time he had welcomed her to the agency. She looked so beautiful that day, her head held high, upon proving how wrong he was about her, as she sat beside him in front of the painting. " I wanted to kiss that witty mouth of yours... but that's just unprofessional..."

"You're being unprofessional now..." she remarks.

"I don't give a damn..." he says and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

A/N: I think I might have made some grammatical errors. So I'd do soft editing. I'll write Part 2 (SMUT!!!) next after this.

#Stories at 3AM #3AM Stories #i did this at 3am #it's 3am #it's 3 in the morning #Mads Mikkelsen #Mads Mikkelsen AU #Soldier! Mads #AU #Alternative Universe #Original Fiction #Special Forces Soldier! Mads #Mads Mikkelsen Fan Fiction #Mads Mikkelsen FanFiction #Mads Mikkelsen Fan Fiction AU #Mads Mikkelsen x OC #Mads Mikkelsen x OFC #Mads Fics #Mads Mikkelsen Fan Fic #Mads Mikkelsen Fanfic #Spy! Mads #Spy! Mads Mikkelsen

[thatwritergirlsblog]

How my English degree helps me with creative writing

I've had a lot of questions regarding my English literature degree, and most of them come down to whether it was worth it for someone pursuing a career as an author of fiction. Rather than answering that question head on (because it's subjective), I'm going to explain the ways in which that degree does help me in my writing:

1. Well-read

When you are an English lit major, you have to read A LOT. I love reading, but I have never read as much as I did in those three years of studies.

I truly believe that the best way to improve your writing is to read, which means that anything that forces you to read a lot of fiction is going to help with your writing.

Another bonus is that I had to read widely, exploring genres that I wouldn't necessarily have read on my own. And cross-pollination is extremely important is you want your stories to be well-rounded.

It also forced me to read with attention and to interact with the text. When you're reading a book for university, you have to pay attention to each sentence. It teaches you to read in a much deeper way, which sticks around long after you've finished your degree.

2. Themes

Not everyone wants their writing to address a real-world issue. Not everyone wants to change the world with their writing. But a lot of authors do - and I am one of them.

My major was technically called "English literary and cultural studies", because every book we studied was linked to social justice/humanitarian issues.

Analyzing books in these ways made me understand my own writing from the perspective of a literary critic.

Not only did it give me ideas for important themes I'd like to address in my writing, it showed me how to do that.

I have a much deeper understanding of using diction, metaphors, motifs, allegory, characterisation etc in to get a theme across without sacrificing story.

And I utilize this skill every time I write.

3. Confidence

This one is very subjective. So, I'm just going to share my experience.

Writing is a thankless job. You don't often get recognition or validation and it can become taxing.

So, when I did a creative writing elective and my stories were highlighted by the lecturer, and I got 90% for my final project, my confidence grew tenfold.

Yes, I did well in creative essays in high school and I performed well in some writing competitions, but that wasn't a patch on how I felt after being validated by someone with a PhD in creative writing. (I know this sounds elitist, but that's what I felt)

It's amazing to have that assurance, to know that my writing talent isn't just in my head. It's not just my mom telling me I'm good and me going on and on believing that I am.

Furthermore, having a degree in English literature makes me feel so much more equipped to share my writing advice. Yes, having that degree by no means makes me an expert on writing, but it offers a sense of credibility that I wouldn't have experienced otherwise.

4. Vocabulary

So, none of my classes ever involved language studies. We weren't given vocab lists to study.

But, my vocabulary improved sooooo much. That's because I was in a class, every single day, where highly-trained academics were speaking about intellectual topics.

There are so many words I came into contact with that I would maybe have read in a book once if I'd never done my degree.

This helped immensely in being able to express myself clearly, in knowing the precise words I need to get a point across. Even in everyday conversation, I find myself using strong words rather than babbling in an attempt to express my thoughts. (Most of these words are ones that most people know, but wouldn't necessarily think of when engaging in everyday conversation)

This also really helps when writing, since precise expression is extremely important in fiction. If you can use one good word rather than four ordinary ones, your prose will thank you for it.

And no, I'm not talking about chugging out synonyms like a walking thesaurus and using high-brow words. Just words like "juvenile" or "ephemeral" etc. These are words I knew before, but that wouldn't have come to mind spontaneously, as they do now.

5. Time management

This isn't specific to studying English, but rather applies to all somewhat-challenging tertiary qualifications.

I was doing my pre-law degree whilst majoring in English, being in a sorority, and working on my WIP. It was hectic.

But it taught me (to a degree) how to handle more than one project/priority at a time.

I'm nowhere near being an expert on time management, but I'm better than I was before university.

And, since most writers do not write full-time, this is a useful skill to have.

That's it. There are probably other things, but it's difficult to know what contributed to which aspects of your current knowledge/skill, since 18-30 is a period of many changes and lessons. But I hope that this can answer some of your questions :)

Reblog if you found these tips useful. Comment with how your own studies/experiences helped with you writing. Follow me for similar content.

#writing #writeblr #writers #write #writing advice #writing's hard #writerblr #writing community #life of a writer #amwriting #writer #writing tips #writers of tumblr

[slurrmp]

not another info sheet. part II

                                       elenore white (doctor who)

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: elenore campbell white PRONUNCIATION: EL-a-nor MEANING: compassion, foreign REASONING: just a name that her mother really liked NICKNAME(S): ellie, nore, nelle PREFERRED NAME(S): ellie BIRTH DATE: march 6th 1992 AGE: 27 ZODIAC: pieces GENDER: female PRONOUNS: she/her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual NATIONALITY: british/australian ETHNICITY: white CURRENT LOCATION: sheffield, united kingdom LIVING CONDITIONS: in a small flat that sits just above her small cafe in the city. TITLE(S): miss

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: albany, western australia HOMETOWN: sheffield SOCIAL CLASS: middle class EDUCATION LEVEL: finished high school FATHER: bernard white (deceased) MOTHER: patricia white (nee dunham) (alive) SIBLING(S): none BIRTH ORDER: only child CHILDREN: none PET(S): only pet she owns is the tabby cat that likes to sit on her balcony when she’s home. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: none PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: she had a short term boyfriend when in high school, but because they traveled regularly she could never settle down properly. ARRESTS?: was once caught stealing from a local 7eleven when she was 16 and quite drunk. PRISON TIME?: none

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: running and owning her own cafe SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: none TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: she travels with the master - that’s her income APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: usually it depends on how well her cafe does. which it does, during both summer and winter months. around about 50k CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: it’s what she was born to do PAST JOB(S): went straight from high school to working in a local bakery, which didn’t really help pay the bills but was enough to help her keep learning. (desk agent with UNIT) SPENDING HABITS: hardly buys anything for herself. most of her furniture and clothes are second hand. what she does spend on are product for her cafe and also the occasional cat food for the stray tabby MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: her father’s wedding ring, which her mother gave to her when he passed

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: ellie enjoyed water polo when in school, so swimming was everything to her - which means that she is quite strong in her legs and arms. OFFENSE: no DEFENSE: yes. only when needed however SPEED: not much of a runner. however, will sprint if her life is in danger INTELLIGENCE: hated maths in school, as well as science. however, she is in no way stupid ACCURACY: terrible AGILITY: pretty flexable, can move around objects and people easy STAMINA: it’s fairly good TEAMWORK: there’s only one other person she depends upon TALENTS: can make a mean souffle SHORTCOMINGS: she’s very quick to trust, as well as wanting to help everyone LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, a little bit of swedish DRIVE?: yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: no CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes SWIM?: yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: she enjoys strumming a guitar PLAY CHESS?: no BRAID HAIR?: yes TIE A TIE?: yes PICK A LOCK?: no

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: victoria pedretti EYE COLOR: blue HAIR COLOR: brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: dead straight, however, with a bit of styling it will have a curl GLASSES/CONTACTS?: no DOMINANT HAND: left HEIGHT: 5′4″ WEIGHT: 58 kg BUILD: she’s short and skinny. but toned from all the water polo she played in high school, as well as all the training that she went through when she joined unit. EXERCISE HABITS: she’s terrible at keeping up with the gym, however running from a different species every week sure helps her keep fit. SKIN TONE: slightly tanned, however still pale TATTOOS: her star sign, pisces, on the inside of her middle finger. PEIRCINGS: ears ( double lobe ), helix, upper lip (however she never wears it in anymore) MARKS/SCARS: a birthmark in the shape of a what looks like a star on the underside of her arm. scar on her left thigh from falling out of a tree when she was a kid. a small scar on her right cheek (caused by the master) NOTABLE FEATURES: her blue eyes USUAL EXPRESSION: bubbly - bright - wide eyed CLOTHING STYLE: summer dresses mainly, bright and bold colours. during winter jeans and a fashionable jumper is what you’d find her in. when traveling with the master - it will depend on the planet, but always with sneakers or flat shoes. she learnt the hard way that sandals suck on a different planet JEWELRY: bracelets and a bangle that she’s had since she was a child. her father’s wedding ring, worn as a necklace ALLERGIES: most flowers, shellfish BODY TEMPERATURE: always running a slightly higher temperature than normal DIET: immaculate, considering she loves cooking most of her meals. however, after a hard day a work, she will get fast food PHYSICAL AILMENTS: had a broken leg when she was younger, however, nothing hindering her (yet)

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: entj ENNEAGRAM TYPE:   the peacemaker MORAL ALIGNMENT:  lawful good ELEMENT: water PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE:   logical-mathematical APPROXIMATE IQ: 127 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: a little bit of ptsd after her previous work SOCIABILITY: very out going and loves to meet new people EMOTIONAL STABILITY: perfectly stable (this eventually changes) OBSESSION(S): making sure that everything goes her way, that everything is perfect and that nothing is messed up PHOBIA(S): claustrophobic, fear of insects, open water ADDICTION(S): none DRUG USE: none ALCOHOL USE: limited PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: no

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: almost like a child - likes to use the abbreviation of words, especially when it comes to taking orders at work. however, when in business mode, she is able to speak ‘properly’ ACCENT: a little bit of that sheffield twang, however, she still has a hint of an aussie accent QUIRKS: bottom lip always finds its place between her teeth HOBBIES: cooking and baking is her life, going to the markets every weekend, binging tv shows that she’s missed through the week HABITS: has a habit of biting her nails NERVOUS TICKS:  pacing when she’s nervous DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: to survive. she’s on her own now and she knows what’s out there, ellie is just trying to make a living for herself so that she can survive the next alien attack FEARS: dying. it’s a common one, but she knows what’s out there, losing her friends and her mother POSITIVE TRAITS:  strong willed, brave, will stand up for herself NEGATIVE TRAITS:  too trusting, willing to see the best in everyone, very stubborn SENSE OF HUMOR:  oh it’s dry but also a little dark DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?:  on and off CATCHPHRASE(S): what the hell is that?

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: baking ANIMAL: otter BEVERAGE: white wine BOOK: war and peace CELEBRITY: george clooney COLOR: pastel grey DESIGNER: jimmy choo FOOD: roast chicken FLOWER: she’s allergic, but if she had to choose, lotus GEM: sapphire HOLIDAY: christmas MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: local transport MOVIE: 13 going on 30 MUSICAL ARTIST: sleeping at last SCENERY: a bright and sunny day in the park SCENT: flour, cookie dough SPORT: ice hockey SPORTS TEAM: pittsburg penguins TELEVISION SHOW: new girl WEATHER: spring VACATION DESTINATION: back to her birth place, australia

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: to become a world famous baker GREATEST FEAR: seeing earth fall into the wrong hands MOST AT EASE WHEN: when she’s in the kitchen. it is absolutely the place she goes to when she’s sad, stressed, happy, angry LEAST AT EASE WHEN:  backed into a corner, being accused of something that she didn’t do WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: being left behind on an alien planet by her travel companion BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: opening her own cafe BIGGEST REGRET:  not settling down MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT:  she told the kind of france to fuck off when she was having a bad day. safe to say that she isn’t welcome back in 17th century frace BIGGEST SECRET:  her love for the master TOP PRIORITIES: her cafe

#doctor who #doctor who oc #the master x reader #ch. elenore white. #quiet when i'm coming home and i'm on my own. #m o r e ....

[rarestnicole]

Day 22 of “30 Days of Gratitude”

~a challenge I’m grateful for~

I have been living with my Mom and our relatives all throughout my life but being a college student in the Metro changed everything about that.

I grew up being surrounded by Mom and her side of the family--the Rufon, a family big enough to have my cousins and nieces and nephews as my playmates and best buddies. Our houses are situated in different streets of the town but are not too far to bring each other viands from time to time. We are literally just a street or two away from one another. 

Whenever Mom is not around, she may be running an errand in another city or town, I am usually left to the care of my Uncles and Aunties. So, I get to hang out with my cousins, nephews, and nieces more; that’s how we established a close connection. I am particularly fond of my nieces and nephews even when I’m several years older. LOL. 

I’ve been surrounded by people with different traits and I learned how to deal with them as I was living with them. Some were affectionate, some were intimidating, some were strict, some were cool, but all of them took care of me just well. Now that I think about it, I have been exposed to different characteristics of people within the family, might be one of the reasons why even when I’m an introvert-ish, when the situation calls for my social and empathic skills, I can pour some out of myself. 

My family is one of the most social people that I know in our town and I that about them because if it weren’t for their traits, I would have trouble socializing since I’ve been a shy kid since I’ve outgrown my toddler self--which was, as I’ve heard from Mom, a bibo kid or an alert and active kid. I think I am still an active kid, the difference now from then is that I am needing isolation in every energy that I exert, I’ve been craving solace and alone time frequently and I am still shy.

So the challenge here is... I had to go to the Metro to continue my tertiary education... without my Mom and away from the relatives who live in the Metro.

Yikes, right?

When I was in my Senior years in high school, Mom taught me more about cooking and being responsible. I was brought up with the knowledge of the importance of being responsible. I was taught how to clean the house, how to wash the clothes properly, how to cook certain recipes, and most importantly, I was taught about the proper hygiene and the cleanliness in its whole essence. 

So months before my freshman year, I’m already in a house in the metro with one of my girl cousins who live alone. I was adjusting to the surroundings, to the new premise, to the new set of strangers to be acquainted with for the sake of socializing and humanity. HAHAHA. Honestly, It was mostly because I had to converse with them when needed. 

During my first month, I was crying at night whenever I think about leaving Mom alone while taking care of my grandma. I was really emotional then, thinking about how it’d be harder for Mom when she has already a lot on her plate even when I was still there. I was sad about it.

I wasn’t sad because Mom isn’t with me, I’m fine with being alone because she taught me well so I could survive without her close. I was sad because she’s got no one to ask for help with a single “Nicolas!” The only consolation that I got was the fact that one of my closest niece is fond of going to our house and she sometimes, she’s there to aid Mom.

My cousin with whom I am with in the house goes to work almost the whole week so I have the entire house for myself in less than half a day. I usually do the house chores and the cooking. Applying everything that I was taught to when it comes to manning the house. There were times when I messed up and I learned from it. I was trying out the independence that I was bestowed upon. HAHAHA. Of course it took a while to be at the point where I mess up less. 

There were many times when I needed to ask Mom for cooking procedures over the phone just so I could cook something that aren’t processed and such. Sometimes, I even resort to Google and try to do the actual things by myself. I used to rant to Mom about how my hands would react after I wash my clothes. I think I’m allergic to detergents and that sucks because who would wash my clothes, right? So months after, I made up my mind and went to a laundry shop with my outer garments. I only wash my outer garments sometimes, especially when my classes started.

I’m on my third year of living as a college girl away from my Mom and our relatives. I only had a single chance to go home during our summer vacation last year and that was just for a week. Huhu. This summer, I wasn’t able to go home because of the current pandemic, so I guess it’d take me longer to go home since our classes already started and next summer is the allotted time for our On-The-Job Training.  I guess I’ll go home after graduation or Christmas vacation, and that’s if i am not busy with my responsibilities here in the Metro.

Now, I know a lot more of recipes to cook on my own, I even mastered some of them. I’m just happy and proud of myself for that. :> Also, I learned that I should only wash my clothes little by little so I won’t overwork my hands and expose it too much on detergents. We even moved to another residence where we’re currently residing for 2 years this month. I can even notice the little changes with my behaviour. I think I became more responsible and more used to living independently. I discovered that I can really live alone and I’d survive--thrive even.

Living away from my Mom and our family is a challenge that I’m glad I went on with. I’m proud of the person that I became and is becoming because of this challenge. If it wasn’t for this opportunity to live independently, I might’ve missed a lot in a life that I didn’t know I wanted to live until I was actually living it. <3

I’m still learning now and I’m aiming to be better when it comes to taking care of myself and taking care of other people around me. 

[kinlochhold]

2020 - 20 Facts!

This one was tagged by @jchb32273​. Thank you, m’dear.

1. Do you make your bed?

Sometimes. I’ll usually at least straighten the duvet and quilts to make it look neat.

2. What’s your favorite number?

7, probably because there’s a song I like called “Seven”.

3. What’s your job?

Retired old lady and cranky person.

4. If you could, would you go back to school?

Yeppers. I’d love to study costume and textile history and get formal training in textile conservation.

5. Can you parallel park?

Sure can.

6. A job you had which would surprise people?

I co-owned a antique furniture restoration business back in the late 1980s. I used to do a mean French polish.

7. Do you think aliens are real?

Absolutely, and I, for one, can’t wait to welcome our new alien overlords. (They can’t be any worse than our current overlords, amirite?)

8. Can you drive a manual car?

I learned on a stick and it’s the only thing I can drive... when I do try to drive a standard transmission, very bad things happen because I forget not to clutch. (Stupid muscle memory!)

9. What’s your guilty pleasure?

Daniel Day-Lewis’ The Last of the Mohicans. It is really an astonishingly terrible awful horrible very bad movie, but I could happily watch it a thousand times. Oh, and Smartfood White Cheddar Pop Corn, which is somehow both thoroughly disgusting and absolutely delicious at the same time.

10. Tattoos?

Yes, though not by choice. (I have guide tattoos for radiation treatments on my back and chest.)

11. Favorite color?

The aesthetic movement palette of ‘saddened’ tertiary colours: peacock blue, sage and olive green, russet, ashes-of-rose, and terra cotta. And black.

12. Things people do that drive you crazy?

Act like assholes on the internet. Seriously... anonymity is not a license to shit on other people.

13. Any Phobias?

Heights, public speaking, and making phone calls.

14. Favorite childhood sport?

Croquet. (Blame it on Lewis Carroll.)

15. Do you talk to yourself?

I don’t think so. Do I? I don’t know.

16. What movie do you adore?

Christine Edzard’s Little Dorrit; Sense and Sensibility (the Emma Thompson film); Miller’s Crossing (I love the Coens in general, but that one is my fave); The Piano; and Impromptu. And OMG A Room with a View!

17. Do you like doing puzzles?

I do, and nothing disappoints me more than a video game that doesn’t randomize the solutions to puzzles for replay value. (Lookin’ at you, every Bioware game I’ve ever played...)

18. Favorite kind of music?

Pretty much anything (apart from Romantic classical music, rap, anything with overly pitch corrected/autotuned vocals, death metal, and contemporary country music). I’m kind of partial to power pop and progressive rock, but I’m just as likely to be listening to Motown or Mersey beat or 70s glam or Brit folk or drone or numbers station recordings or electronica.

19. Tea or coffee?

Tea, though I’m not allowed the real stuff anymore. (No caffeine for you, bad girl!)

20. The first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up?

A lady astronaut. (It was the 1960s. I think every kid wanted to be an astronaut back then.) When I came to my senses and realized that space is really high up (see: that fear of heights thing mentioned above) I decided I would instead be a writer. (Go ahead, laugh...)

I don’t like to bother anyone by tagging them (because at this point I’m so infrequently on Tumblr that they’ll probably have forgotten who I am) but if anyone who still follows me wants to answer questions, consider yer lovely self tagged: “You’re it!”

#jchb32273 #thank you #meme me #kh is a very boring person indeed

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

I'm having trouble distinguishing between Se and Ne in myself because I can see evidence of either. For Se - I've been practicing martial arts for most of my life, I have very fast reflexes and tend to react well to unexpected circumstances such as easily maintaining my balance or rolling onto my feet when I trip without even thinking about it, and I have a general awareness of my surroundings, and can easily see the potential of an object and how to manipulate it into what I need it to be. /1

But I can put the reflexes down to martial arts training, I believe all Pe will have a general sense of surroundings, and with my father being a mechanical engineer, and possible tertiary function development, the last doesn't seem necessarily Se.  As evidence for Ne - I've been known to not notice injuries due to distraction, including cuts to the bone, even when what I should be paying attention to was what cut me and I was thinking about something else. (I was doing dishes. Broken cup.) /2

Also, while I'm skilled at some physical activities, anything I didn't specifically practice I'm awful at. I couldn't catch a ball until halfway through high school and still can't reliably catch anything. I also rarely notice specific details because of expectations about what I'm looking for ('the cabbage couldn't fit there' - but it was there, it did fit) and because when I'm searching for something I tend to look for breaks in established patterns, if that makes sense. /3

I've found that people often have difficulty understanding me, and it's because I draw conclusions from abstracts they don't think about, or because I ramble on about a topic without being specific which topic. I once found a stove plate was left on with nothing on it and I was trying to explain to my brother in law why this might damage the stove, but he kept saying they'd used it that way before, under the impression that I was talking about water I'd spilled on it by accident. /4

(The water in my last example was how I found out the stove was on)   Lastly, my job involves high stress situations where details can be a matter of life and death - so while Se would be beneficial, it would tend to develop Si, and as such sensor traits could be a result of Si.   So does this seem to give evidence of one function over another? Thanks in advance! /end 

-------

Hi anon,

This is not particularly definitive, mostly because a lot of this is fairly common normal human stuff or might be due to your judging function. Going through:

“ can easily see the potential of an object and how to manipulate it into what I need it to be” I suspect this language came from some MBTI description because this is not how normal people typically speak. It’s also kind of weird, like...does this mean you can improvise a weapon from your frying pan if need be, or does it mean you plan on trying to turn your kitchen table into a car. Either way, not super useful.

It’s also not super useful that your father’s a mechanical engineer for typing you. Sure, you’ve probably learned a few things from him, but that’s not going to change your cognitive processes and since there are plenty of both high Ne and high Se using engineers out there it doesn’t tip the scales either way.

Martial arts training is relevant here and I do agree that this is not necessarily high Se. I find that a lot of high Ni users really like martial arts.

Not noticing when you’ve injured yourself while doing something else is actually not an uncommon thing in general, for both biological reasons (endorphins in lesser cases, shock in greater ones) and distraction in general. I don’t think I’ve cut myself that severely and not noticed it, but I’ve definitely cut myself and not realized it until I saw the blood. When it comes to physical awareness I tend to ask people more about everyday things, like needing to use the bathroom or how your clothes feel - and even then, martial arts training might have an impact if you’ve done a lot of work with mindfulness.

I’m not entirely getting what you’re saying about the cabbage but actually this is one of the potential indicators you might be a high Ne user since you’re obviously skipping a bunch of context that is crucial to the understanding; that said, given what you’ve talked about regarding the stove...you might also just not be a great communicator? I find that high Se users can do this too, because they don’t realize how much they’ve noticed that others have missed, and honestly I did this a lot when I was younger because it requires a certain level of understanding what other people have access to and what your audience is.

I really can’t weigh in on your job without understanding more context here (although I understand if you don’t want to or can’t talk about your job more at length). Details, much like martial arts, are a thing many people can learn, so it’s more a case of whether you feel this comes naturally or if it’s very hard, how the details come into play (eg: do you need to be quick at picking up details immediately and working with those, or do you need a very good depth of knowledge about details that you can learn at leisure then apply in the high stress situations), and to an extent your age (if you’re thinking you’re an ENTP, for example, and you’re 20 your Si still is pretty bad, but if you’re thinking you’re an INTP and you’re 25, then yeah, you may have decent Si development at this point).

So in all, slight preference for Ne but not definitive.

#mbti #extroverted sensing #extroverted intuition #Anonymous

[cuorepietoso]

FULL NAME: Battista Tahan PRONUNCIATION: bat-TEE-sta tah-han MEANING:

Battista- Italian given name meaning “baptist”

Tahan- Hebrew origin, meaning “merciful”

NICKNAME/PREFERRED NAME(S): Battista is NOT a fan of nicknames, and generally reacts with annoyance at best when people try to give him one. In fact, he just prefers to be called “Tahan”. BIRTH DATE: 5 January 1986 AGE: 33 ZODIAC: Capricorn sun, Scorpio moon/ascending GENDER: Male PRONOUNS: he/him SEXUAL/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Battista is Bisexual/Biromantic with a strong preference for women. Though he has a lot of experience with women, he’s never had the opportunity to explore a sexual relationship with a man because he’s a fucking idiot, but he’s had a romantic relationship with one. NATIONALITY: Italian ETHNICITY: Mexican-Jewish CURRENT LOCATION: Verona, Italy LIVING CONDITIONS: 5th floor studio apartment. The elevator does not work. TITLE(S): Mr., (frmr.) Maresciallo Ordinario (Mar. Ord.), Capitano

tw: substance abuse mention, suicidal idealization, PTSD. general content warning.

background

BIRTH PLACE: Hospital Borga Roma HOMETOWN: Verona SOCIAL CLASS: Working– his parents were the owners and sole employees of a relatively unsuccessful stationery shop. EDUCATION LEVEL: High School, some College level courses FATHER: Vincenzo Tahan MOTHER: Shoshanna Tahan SIBLING(S): n/a CHILDREN: n/a PET(S): Pafutta, his “pet” stray cat PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: Aria DiMaggio, Alessio Rossi*

occupation & income

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Montagues SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Bartender, though he only works one night a week. TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: Odd jobs for his landlady, Military disability APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: €400k a year, most of which comes from the Montagues and is therefore off the books. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB?: As much as he can ever let himself be content with anything, anymore, he’s content with the way he lives. He has four walls and a roof over his head, he keeps busy, and whenever he begins to feel the restless itch under his skin he can just go start a fight, and because this is the best way to find the man that killed his father. Any concerns he has about how things happen/are run pale in comparison to what he can get from it. PAST JOB(S):

Thief- Not really a job, considering. But he made a fair bit of money with his slick tongue and sticky fingers, and he enjoyed it in a sort of empty way.

Italian Army/Special Forces- Battista was always quick on the uptake but he took to life in the military like a duck to water. Strong, fast, and cunning, with the necessary people skills to shut up and speak up, whenever it was needed.

SPENDING HABITS: He buys what he needs. Most of his money is spent on alcohol, drugs, and weapons. Sometimes he buys expensive clothes that he doesn’t like to wear for lavish parties.
MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: Beretta tanto-style folding knife, blackened steel blade, gifted to him by Alessio Rossi

skills & abilities

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 6/10. Raw power is not and never has been his main weapon, he has neither the height or build to rely solely on physical strength. That being said, he works out every day and as part of his training can carry a man nearly twice his weight a few miles. OFFENSE: 8/10. Preference for knives in close quarters combat, and doesn’t enjoy open combat because of the risk it poses to civilians, though he’s more than capable of using guns. He fights like a devil and firmly believes in the phrase “a good defense is a better offense”. DEFENSE: 6/10. A little slow to guard his left side, but he isn’t afraid to resort to dirty tricks. He fights like he’s trying to die.  SPEED: 8/10. Battista is physically smaller than most of the people he’s ever fought so he relies on speed a lot. This ties back into his preference for knife fighting, where speed is essentially everything. INTELLIGENCE: 8/10. His greatest weapon has always been his sharp mind. Though lately he’s been prone to bouts of confusion, when he’s fighting he regains his cunning, razor edge. ACCURACY: 6/10. He’s above average with a gun but nothing to write home about. AGILITY: 7/10. Though he’s not doing backflips or anything but he can command his body to move, and quickly. His reflexes are honed and due to his hypervigilance he’s Always Ready, even when he doesn’t need to be. STAMINA: 6/10. He runs a couple of miles every morning, but generally fighting is exhausting, especially when you’re fighting someone physically stronger. He’s better off finishing a fight fast, rather than letting it drag out. TEAMWORK: 9/10. He does his best work as part of a cohesive team, it’s how he was trained. TALENTS:

(frmr.) Art- Though he’s not practiced in a little under three years, Battista used to be quite the artist, and still has an eye for beauty and detail. Sometimes his fingers itch to pick up a pencil again, but whenever he puts it to paper he finds the only things he can think of are too dark to draw.

Trauma medicine- Battista trained as a combat medic, and though he likes to joke that all he ever did was comfort dying men and tell them they would be okay, he’s quite good at keeping people alive in stressful situations.

Sticky fingers, silver tongue- Some habits are hard to shake, especially when they’re so useful. Though he doesn’t enjoy using honeyed words and a warm smile as a distraction any longer, he’s still got it in him. Coupled with his light fingers and silent step, he still makes a rather adept thief, when the situation calls for it.

SHORTCOMINGS:

Controlling- Whether he’s always been this way, or it’s a result of the life he’s lived, Battista has a hard time giving up the reigns. He’s prone to micromanaging, being occasionally overly critical, and difficult to get along with in a work setting. He has a way he likes to do things, and he expects them to be done to his rather exacting standards.

Abundance of Caution- Drawing attention is the enemy, in his eyes. Sometimes he hesitates to act because he’s unwilling to make a splash.

Gregariousness- Though few actually consider this a fault, it is one in his eyes. He’d prefer to think of himself as an island, but he’s a man that does better when he cares and is cared for in return. These relationships he develops aren’t always within the bounds of where his social circles should end.

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN:

Italian- Battista speaks both the Veneto dialect and Standard Italian. He prefers the Veneto dialect (since that’s what he grew up speaking), but he’s capable of code-switching

Hebrew- He spoke Hebrew at home and the military paid for him to take classes to improve/expand his knowledge.

some English- Enough to give a tourist directions and communicate to Americans where and how many the enemy were.

Arabic- This used to be his weakest language, he spoke conversationally and knew the curse words. Now that he’s friends with Ivan Rahal he knows even more curse words.

DRIVE?: He doesn’t drive– he’s never actually had a driver’s license, because when he was growing up he lived in the city and his family was too poor for a car. He never needed one in the military, though he did learn to drive and well. Now that he’s once again living in Verona (and prone to seizures), he doesn’t feel he has any business owning or operating a car. However, he can easily jump start/hotwire a car, change a tire, and fix some basic mechanical issues. RIDE A BICYCLE?: Outside of taking the metro, this is his main mode of transportation. SWIM?: He can but he would prefer not to PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: He’s never had any musical talent, and can hardly carry a tune. PLAY CHESS?: Not well! He doesn’t have the patience for it. BRAID HAIR?: No. He never had any siblings and his mother always kept her hair short and worn loose, so he never had occasion to learn. TIE A TIE?: Yes, though he has to tie it and then put it on his neck. PICK A LOCK?: His skills at lock picking are second to none, it’s part of what made him such an excellent thief and, later on in his career, infiltration expert.

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: Peter Gadiot EYE COLOR: Medium Brown HAIR COLOR: Dark Brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: slightly long, thick and curly/wavy. He runs his fingers through it to keep it out of his face. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: 25/20 vision in his right eye and 15/20 with slight loss of peripheral vision in his left. He hasn’t noticed this, so it will remain uncorrected, but it does affect his life. DOMINANT HAND: Right HEIGHT: 5’10 ¾”. The ¾ is very important. WEIGHT: 160lbs BUILD: Leaner side of muscular EXERCISE HABITS: Every morning he wakes up at 6am and he runs two miles, and then he does push ups, sit ups, pull ups, and some other weight lifting before going back to sleep. If he’s idle and feeling restless he may sometimes just start stretching. SKIN TONE: Olive, though frankly he doesn’t sleep or see the sun enough to look anywhere near healthy TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: n/a MARKS/SCARS: He has small shrapnel scars on his right cheekbone/temple, and scars on his knuckles. A wicked looking scar that stretches from his belly button to the tenth left rib. And a bullet scar to his upper left arm with no exit wound. NOTABLE FEATURES: His nose is pretty large and he’s broken it a few times. Other than that he just kind of looks terrible and tired most of the time. USUAL EXPRESSION: Blank, or a scowl CLOTHING STYLE: His whole wardrobe is black. Black jeans, black shirts, black slacks, black jackets. When he’s sleeping, he wears a ratty paracadutisti forze speciali tee shirt (also black) that he picked up…. somewhere JEWELRY: A silver Star of David necklace ALLERGIES: Genuine Human Emotion. Sesame seeds. Certain medications. BODY TEMPERATURE: He runs a little cool at an average of 97.9 degrees, and always feels like a solid, miserable block of ice. Especially his hands and feet. DIET: Black coffee, MDMA, antidepressants, vodka, and a highly regulated food diet that is usually Mediterranean or Indian food PHYSICAL AILMENTS: Occasional seizures from his medication, some chronic pain from old injuries.

psychology

JUNG TYPE: ISTJ-strong preference on thinking and judging, medium preference on sensing, almost no preference on introverted      Responsible organizers, driven to create and enforce order within systems and institutions. They are neat and orderly, inside and out, and tend to have a procedure for everything they do. ISTJs are steady, productive contributors. They like to know what the rules of the game are, valuing predictability more than imagination. They rely on their past experience to guide them. ISTJs are hardworking and will persist until a task is done. They are logical and methodical, and often enjoy tasks that require them to use step-by-step reasoning to solve a problem. They are meticulous in their attention to details, and examine things closely to be sure they are correct. With their straightforward logic and orientation to detail, ISTJs work systematically to bring order to their own small parts of the world.      ISTJs have a serious, conservative air about them. They want to know and follow the rules of the game, and typically seek out predictable surroundings where they understand their role. You may find the ISTJ doing something useful even in social situations (for instance, organizing coats and hats at a party) as they’re often more comfortable taking charge of a task than they are chatting up strangers. When given something to do, they are highly dependable, and follow it through to the end. ISTJs are practical and no-nonsense, and rarely call attention to themselves. Their clothes and possessions tend to be chosen based on utility rather than fashion, and they have an affection for the classics. ISTJs typically speak in a straightforward manner and have a good head for details. They are usually more enthusiastic about sharing factual information than exploring abstract concepts or unproven ideas.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 1, the Reformer      People of this personality type are essentially looking to make things better, as they think nothing is ever quite good enough. This makes them perfectionists who desire to reform and improve; idealists who strive to make order out of the omnipresent chaos.      Ones have a fine eye for detail. They are always aware of the flaws in themselves, others and the situations in which they find themselves. This triggers their need to improve, which can be beneficial for all concerned, but which can also prove to be burdensome to both the One and those who are on the receiving end of the One’s reform efforts.      The One’s inability to achieve the perfection they desire feeds their feelings of guilt for having fallen short, and fuels their incipient anger against an imperfect world. Ones, however, tend to feel guilty about their anger. Anger is a “bad” emotion, and Ones strive sincerely and wholeheartedly to be “good.” Anger is therefore vigorously repressed from consciousness, bursting forth in occasional fits of temper, but usually manifesting in one of its many less obvious permutations - impatience, frustration, annoyance and judgmental criticality. For this reason, Ones can be difficult to live with, but, on the high side, they tend to be loyal, responsible and capable partners and friends.      Ones are serious people; they tend to be highly principled, competent and uncompromising. They follow the rules and expect others to do so as well. Because they believe so thoroughly in their convictions, they are often excellent leaders who can inspire those who follow them with their own vision of excellence. Reform movements are frequently spearheaded by Ones.
Ones are often driven and ambitious, and are sometimes workaholics. But whatever their professional involvement, they are definitely active, practical people who get things done. They are natural born organizers, listmakers who finish everything on the list, the last one to leave the office, the first one to return, industrious, reliable, honest and dutiful.

MORAL ALIGNMENT: True Neutral      True neutral characters are concerned with their own well-being and that of the group or organization which aids them. They may behave in a good manner to those that they consider friends and allies, but will only act maliciously against those who have tried to injure them in some way. For the rest, they do not care. They do not wish ill on those they do not know, but they also do not care when they hear of evil befalling them. Better for others to suffer the evil than the true neutral and his allies. If an ally is in need, the true neutral will aid him, out of genuine love or because he may be able to count on that ally a little more in the future. If someone else is in need, they will weigh the options of the potential rewards and dangers associated with the act. If an enemy is in need, they will ignore him or take advantage of his misfortune.

TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic      Melancholics naturally lean toward being analytical and intellectual. They often foresee the result of a project long before its completion. They are able to view situations and problems from all sides and see every possible outcome. This makes them very effective at problem solving, planning, and organizing. And although people with a melancholic temperament generally keep their emotions guarded, they are still emotional individuals. In fact, they may be the most emotional of all the temperament types. Their heightened, ever-changing emotions can result in quick shifts in mood. For instance, they might feel a strong sense of elation, quickly replaced by gloom if something negative happens.      Because people with a melancholic temperament are introverted, they are often task oriented rather than people oriented. Individuals with this temperament love having a list of chores to complete. They prefer to stay busy, and they tackle their daily to-do list with relish. They tend to be extremely efficient and productive in any career. Melancholics are often perfectionists as well– they have a specific idea of the perfect situation, the perfect way to do things, and the perfect outcome. They tend to set incredibly high standards for themselves and others. When the perfect outcome is not achieved, they can become angered; however, these individuals don’t typically show their anger until it becomes so pent up over time that they reach a breaking point.

ELEMENT: Earth      Grounded and practical, when balanced earth is the glue that binds all elements together. It is “nurturing, supportive, relaxed, oriented, sociable, sympathetic, considerate, agreeable, poised, and attentive.” As nice as the balanced Earth is, unbalanced “Excess” Earth frets and meddles and can be quite overbearing as that wonderful groundedness transforms into unmovable and impractical stubbornness. When “Deficient”, Earth can become clingy and vacillating, too eager to please others and unable to ask for help. Earth is the caretaker and the main issue is over-thinking and worry

PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Bodily Kinesthetic      Tends to learn things by doing them with his hands. He must engage in a material in order to understand it – simply listening to a theory or looking at a picture is not going to help him. He also tends to be active in sports and have extraordinary balance. Moving his body brings him joy, and it is how he participates in the world around him.

APPROXIMATE IQ: 140-149 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: PTSD, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Depression SOCIABILITY: Battista pretends to prefer solitude, but he needs other people like a flower needs sunlight. This generally manifests in him spending as little time alone as possible, whether it’s going out at night or wandering around during the day, or showing up unannounced to inflict himself on people that seem capable of tolerating him for any extended period of time. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: Though he may come off as cold, calculating, and unfeeling to the layman, Battista’s emotions are generally experienced as long periods of nothingness followed by intense emotional outbursts– anger, sadness, stress, etc. Generally he tries to keep his outbursts private, because he’s embarrassed by them. OBSESSION(S): Battista is prone to overthinking almost everything when he gets in his own head, but the most prevalent worry is about acting violently towards others on accident. He fears nothing more than being a rabid dog in need of being put down. COMPULSION(S): When he starts obsessively overthinking, he begins compulsive behaviors. Usually these are limited to things like hand washing, counting, listing. The hand washing is the most overt and alarming of the three behaviors, because most of the time he counts and lists things in his head. The latter two are usually used to help manage his anxiety, but sometimes he can get into his own head while doing them. PHOBIA(S): n/a ADDICTION(S): Alcohol, MDMA DRUG USE: Ecstasy, though he limits this to maybe two nights a week. Sometimes he’ll do cocaine but only if he’s obscenely drunk. ALCOHOL USE: He tries to limit his intake of alcohol as well, but he averages 3-4 drinks a night and way more on Friday and Saturday nights. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: He would prefer not to be, but it’s generally his first reaction when startled at the very least. Sometimes it’s his first reaction to being angered as well.

mannerisms

SPEECH STYLE: Though it’s rare for him to speak much (if at all) around strangers, when he does he tends to keep his sentences clipped and without much inflection. He isn’t shy– it’s just better to be thought of as a taciturn fool than known to be a chatty one. In more familiar company, his voice can gain a little warmth, but most of his sense of humor comes from him deadpanning some pretty off the wall shit, which he is almost always doing. Even when he’s asking a question, he usually doesn’t raise the inflection at the end of his sentence to indicate that. ACCENT: Typical sing-song Veronan with a slight tendency to mispronounce the “ch” sound in words as the Khaf sound in Hebrew. He has a certain lack of consonant gemination when otherwise required (“ecco” comes out as “eco”), and his intonation has a kind of staccato pattern as a result. QUIRKS: occasionally prone to stuttering and muttering to himself under his breath, as well as completely zoning out. Generally during the day he can be spotted wandering the city like a cryptid if he isn’t working. HOBBIES:

frmr- sketching, writing

current- sex, working out, wandering. He leads a sad life.

HABITS: He wakes up every morning at 6 to work out. Goes to brunch a couple Sundays a month with Matthias Warren. Shows up like a bad penny to shadow his friends occasionally. NERVOUS TICKS: Squeezing the back of his neck, chewing on something DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: He wants to kill the man that killed his father And Then Die. FEARS: Losing control of himself/his situation, getting an innocent person killed, and getting a friend killed. POSITIVE TRAITS: Fundamentally responsible, serious, efficient, and rational. Passionate, incisive, cunning, strategic, and perceptive NEGATIVE TRAITS: Emotionally reserved, comes off as intimidating and powerful if not malicious or aggressive. A bit dramatic. He has trouble opening up and letting other people in, and tries to keep his intense darker emotions private. He finds it difficult to trust others, which means his perception may manifest in suspicion and controlling tendencies. SENSE OF HUMOR: Dry and hard to understand. I don’t think he’s funny, I think he’s fucked up. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: Situational, and depending on the language he’s speaking CATCHPHRASE(S): not really a catchphrase, but as a filler word he tends toward “bene–” where most Americans would use “like” or “um”

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: He can’t see himself really… going anywhere. As of right now, he struggles so much with his past and his present that the only goal he can set for himself is “survive”. Perhaps his greatest dream, then, is to someday have a hope for the future. GREATEST FEAR: His greatest fear is the thing most likely to come true, at this point– he spends the rest of his short life fruitlessly chasing his own tail in a pointless quest to find out who killed his father. Part of him already believes he’ll never figure it out, but he clings to it because he needs a reason to keep going, no matter how flimsy it is. MOST AT EASE WHEN: Battista is a creature of war. He’s most at ease when there are fists and bullets flying, blood on his tongue. When he’s tying off an artery and improvising a saline drip, when he’s barking orders (when he has his head resting in someone’s lap and they’ve got their hands in his hair, and they’re talking) LEAST AT EASE WHEN: There are things that crawl around in his head and under his skin in what most would consider a peaceful silence. He can’t relax, he can’t breathe, he can’t think. He shuts down. WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: In 2016 he was involuntarily committed because he was going to blow the whistle on his CO’s war crimes. The shit he dealt with there and the explicit threats afterwards were clear: if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut, or if COL. Bianchi decides he’s too much of a wild card, they’ll put him back and throw away the key. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: He remembers this so clearly. In 2013 he was bragging to Alessio Rossi how good he was at dealing with snow and ice because he was from Verona and he was used to it and he immediately slipped on the rain damp stairs to the office they were walking into and fully ate shit. Rossi made fun of him for months, but he laughed really hard so it was almost worth it. BIGGEST SECRET: See: war crimes TOP PRIORITIES: He can pretend his biggest priority is catching and killing his father’s murderer all he wants, but that’s basically the only excuse he has for surviving at this point. Top Priorities are: Keep his friends alive, don’t get caught, survive. In that order.

#/ / HEADCANON . #tw suicide #tw ptsd #tw substance abuse #again just a general content warning because battista is fucked up #but yeah here we go! hope you like some character insight for a midnight snack! #basically deleted the entirety of the 'likes' section because u have to have a desire to live in order to have an opinion on most of those #and uh. [jazzhands] #diveronatask

[bstc2020-blog]

Coaching and Real Life Challenges

In contemporary times, almost in the form of cultural practice, education has been elevated to the level of a strong initiation rite into the modern world. With the aid of formal enlightening training, people acquire the skills of reading and making. It is obvious that literacy, the ability to read and prepare, has become a requisite for coping with numerous challenges of modern days. As a strategy for ensuring that no child is denied the way of acquiring formal education, not sending a child to make sure you school is a criminal offence in some parts of the world, primarily in the West. In addition , some governments assist their individuals to acquire formal education by either subsidising the cost or perhaps making it available at no cost (at the basic level, at least). It is impossible to fit into the modern times if one won't go to school. Consequently, education is a necessity, not a expensive. People's attitude to education in contemporary time generally seems to suggest, in fidelity to Platonism, that it is better to possibly be unborn than to be uneducated. The demand for instruction in different parts of the world is unarguably on daily strengthen. People make numerous sacrifices to acquire education. Parents would like to give all they have in order to see their children by means of school. Some people travel to foreign countries in order to acquire superior quality educational training. Acquiring formal education has become one of the greatest things in life today. However , despite the wide acceptance formalized education has gained all over the world, one of the most significant questions with regards to education that is often not asked is, "What will be relevance of education to practical life? ' To explain, to what extent is education helpful in addressing simple life challenges? This question needs to be asked because the thought impacts of education are absent is the life for many educated people. One of the factors that speak very eloquently on this is that education has continuously remained struggles to improve the standard of living of numerous graduates. It is imperative to comment that education is a means to an end, but not an end inside of it. The implication of this is that education is a procedure that leads to the making of a product. The process is not whole without the product. It is the product that gives value to the would mean. The quality of the process can be inferred from the quality of the supplement. As a means, education is incomplete without the end of the progression. This end is the purpose it (education) is designed to deliver (under ideal situation). Let us justify our claim that any expected impacts of education are absent is the everyday living of many educated people by examining a very sensitive aspect of life of educated people, their finances. How many informed people are truly financially successful? Most graduates struggle through life to make ends meet, but to no utilize. There are numerous people who graduated from tertiary institutions (even near the top of the class), but who are far below many people through lower educational training (academic intelligence and scholarly ability) than theirs in the ladder of financial success. Conceivably, financial struggles and crises are worse among proficient people. Most educated people struggle all through their doing the job years merely to make ends meet, but to basically no avail, and end as liabilities during their retirement. The shortcoming of education to assist graduates in managing real life worries is rooted in the fact that most people are ignorant of the reason for education. Why do we go to school? Why should really people go to school? What is the purpose of education? What is the explanation of education? What are the objectives of education? Why really should parents send their children to school? Education has become the most abused or, rather, misunderstood human experiences. Until the purpose of education is understood and clarified, the continuity of its abuse (by most people) will remain predictable. Many people go to school for the wrong reasons. In addition , almost all parents send their children to school for the erroneous reasons. Most people have erroneous conceptions about the objectives in education. It is imperative to remark that this problem will be rooted in the fact that the major incentive for likely to school in the earliest days of its inception inside parts of the world was that it was a ticket for you to prosperity. This was possible then because employment opportunities abound intended for educated people then. But things have changed, and significantly. In most parts of the world today, there is high level regarding unemployment among educated people. Thus, education does not warrant financial success anymore. In fact , education has become a major root of poverty, considering the fact that it has no provision for instilling the data of wealth creation principles in students. It is about time the purpose of education is reconsidered. The idea of going to school that allows you to acquire certificate should be denounced, if the training will enhance the life of educated people. The idea of going to school to prepare for gainful employment should also be denounced because you can get limited employment opportunities for unlimited graduates. If school prepares graduates for employment, but there are limited employment opportunities for the purpose of unlimited graduates, it means that school prepares students pertaining to unemployment. This is why the conception that school merely prepares students for gainful employment is unacceptable. The ideal intent being education is to facilitate an integral development of the human guy - the intellectual, moral, physical, social, spiritual, psychical and psychological dimensions of man. Going to school should certainly facilitate the optimum development of all the aspects of the individuals person. An ideal educational system should not isolate any facet of man in the training process, nor consider some features more important than others. Anything short of this is the aberration, and is unacceptable. Every educational process should be able to aid students to develop their latent potential. Any educational practice that does not fulfill this objective is useless. When the thought process is developed, it is able to identify and solve problems just for humanity and, consequently, be compensated with reward. Dollars is merely the reward for solving problems. Any graduate student who cannot solve problems in the society lacks the proportions for wealth creation. This is a fact most graduates will be ignorant of. Education will assist graduates to become happy as well as fulfilled in life if it is structured to facilitate the particular optimum development of their minds. If this is done, coaching will equip graduates with the requisite skills to pull through the economic battles and challenges of real life. It is painful to remark that education has remained struggle to serve practical purpose because most of the things the school structure teach students are things they do not need to survive from the real life. In other words, most students spend years in university learning things that will not be useful to them when school months are over. The crux of this deficiency in the helpful system is that the people who are most concerned in the instructive sector are ignorant of its existence. One of the primary objectives of education is empowerment. If the educational technique is restructured to achieve this purpose, graduates will become assets, yet not liabilities, no matter the circumstances. Such an educational process will be helpful students to create jobs if they are unable to get jobs after they become graduates. As earlier remarked, education is a technique, and every process is incomplete without a product. Products you can a product is the most reliable standard for ascertaining the quality of doing this that produced it. There is urgent need to restructure typically the educational system to ensure that that the training it instills on students adequately empowers them to effectively confront life obstacles, especially when school days are over. Despite the fact that the consequences of your deficiencies of the educational system in its present develop accounts for the ugly experiences of most graduates in the physical locales, the government has continuously demonstrated increasing incompetence in spanning this challenge. Consequently, it has become obvious that graduates who conscientiously desire a bright, refreshing and happy daily life must acquire Supplementary Education on their own before their college training will have the desired effect in their life. It also means students should also go beyond what they are taught in the style if they are sincerely passionate about happy in the real world (I. e life after school).