#and made the whole resonance issue come together perfectly

[sabraeal]

Remedial Lessons

[Read on AO3]

Written for @kaedix‘s birthday! Kimber has a gift for picking niche AUs, and this one she gave me a little unexpected challenge along with it: writing Obi as the meister and Shirayuki as his weapon. Not my natural inclination on a Soul Eater AU...but then it worked out SO much better than it could have the other way.

Blue flame licks up her fingers, pinched like a clothespin right on the tip of its comet tail. It struggles, a squiggling pendulum attempting one last heave toward freedom, but it’s no use; the thing might be all fire, but it’ll never burn that kid’s small hands.

“All right.” A real flame might dance that close to her sigh, like a birthday candle thinking about if it’d give up its wish, but this one doesn’t even flicker. Obi’ll never get used to that, no matter how many of these souls he sees. “Down the hatch, I guess.”

The kid’s jaw opens-- practically unhinges, really, like something you’d see on National Geographic, or maybe something drawn by Junji Ito-- and she wraps her mouth around it whole, slurping the thing up easy as soba. It’s weird to see, honestly; kid’s usually got silverware and napkin perfectly applied to every meal, as neat an eater as she is a note-taker, so when blue wisps out from the side of her mouth, caught by her tongue--

Ah, well, it does something for him. A little. Not because he’s got a thing about food or whatever; he doesn’t just watch videos of cute girls eating like that stupid monkey does, it’s just...her. He’s got a thing for her and, yeah, it’s starting to get real inconvenient. “Do those taste good?”

Shirayuki blinks up at him, everything about her completely normal in size, and swallows. “Excuse me?”

“The soul things.” He waves his fingers, trying to make them flicker the same way as her last meal. “I always thought they’d be spicy or something. Burn on the way down. But you can’t even handle a Red Hot Cheeto, so...”

Her mouth pulls thin. “That’s because they’re unpleasant. The, um, cheetos, I mean. Not the souls. Those are--” her head tilts, eyes drifting up like they might find the answer somewhere past her eyebrows-- “sweet. Or, well, not really. I’m not sure they really have a taste, but it’s like...eating your favorite meal until you’re full. Satisfying, I guess.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, one hand creeping up to his shoulder just so he’ll have something to do. “Sounds...nice.”

“Mostly.” She grimaces. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way they...squiggle when they go down.”

Obi’s eaten something like that; last time Zen took him overseas he’d paid a handful of yen to some guy with a bucket to try a tiny octopus on a stick. Its little suckers clung to his throat as he swallowed it down, and well--

Probably not the time to tell her he’d thought it was fun. “We should get headed back,” he says instead. “What was that? Eighty-eight? Ninety-one? Shidan’s gonna have something to say about it.”

Shirayuki hums, that face of her taking a worried bent. “I’m sure...”

“Ninety-seven.” There’s a pen between the professor’s fingers, the kind that usually has a little boat or a ski-lift inside, moving to and fro. This one’s got a small soul, traveling down the length of it to Death and his scythe before scurrying back across. “You’re at ninety-seven souls, Shirayuki.”

The guilty twist of her mouth says the kid knew the count too. Better than he did at least. “You’ve given us some very good opportunities over the last year.”

It’s a diplomatic answer, and by the way Shidan slumps behind his desk, it’s not the one he wants to hear. “Garak wanted you back at Shibusen at ninety. If you were so close, you should have said--”

“I don’t want to go yet.” It’s just like her to let the truth fly right out, landing with all the subtlety of a bomb. One that catches her in its blast by the way she pinks up, just a few shades lighter than her hair. “I mean, we’re not done here. We’ve only just scratched the surface of what the Olin Maris is, let alone what it means for our system of weapon classification, or whether there’s other mythic weapons we haven’t even considered because--”

“Shirayuki.” Obi’d thought Shidan was a bit of a scrub when they first met him, a scraggly excuse for a professor with even scragglier facial hair, but nothing makes a guy grim up faster than having a team of kids thrust upon him and told to keep them alive. Especially when one of those kids is Shirayuki. “I appreciate that this project has...meaning for you. I do. But I also know that if you guys fumble your last soul on my watch, Garak will wring my neck and serve me for dinner.”

That hauls the kid up short, all her passion careening into a pile-up. “Ah...”

Those big eyes roll his way, looking at him like he’s the one with all the experience of talking them into trouble and right back out again. “I dunno, kid. Master’s going to string me up too if we blow this smash and grab a second time.”

Her mouth bows into a frown cute enough to send a little thrill up his spine. “He doesn’t like it when you call him that.”

“And he can scold me about it straight to my face,” Obi says, grinning down into hers. “When we get shipped back to Death City.”

The determined jut of her jaw would like to argue, but before the kid can work herself up past, “No,” Shidan swings in with a weary, “You’re not ready to catch a witch soul.”

“That’s not true.” Shirayuki’s half out of her seat already, tiny hands braced on its arms, ready to spring. “Umihebi--”

“Umihebi is what you can expect from an experienced witch.” Shidan’s not the kind of guy who does resolution, let alone conflict, but he stands his ground, albeit with all the enthusiasm of a cliff face in a storm. “But not a powerful one. Garak hasn’t seen fit to furnish me with the details of that little excursion, but I doubt you’d manage much better if she took you on today.”

Technically, Obi agrees. Hell, that’s the meat of the argument he’d been trying to have only a few days ago, back when the kid had gone off and signed them up for this last glut of souls.

There’s going to be a witch to wipe the floor with us whether we get all our souls today or two years from now, he’d told her, flicking the end of her tiny ponytail. Not because it made his chest squeeze to see how long it had gotten since that raggedy boy cut, of course, but because it was there. No need to rush things. After all, who’s the meister here?

But he watches her face crinkle up, freckles disappearing into the peaks and valleys of her discontent, and-- and it’s stupid, but he can’t just stand around watching it happen.

“We’re stronger than we were then.” Big eyes turn toward him, shining and surprised and hopeful, and he can’t keep this up but he can’t look away either. “Better.”

It’s the truth, it is, but also: it’s a low bar to clear. He wasn’t a stranger to this whole weapon business, even wielded a few a time or two when the job called for it, but this kid was something else entirely. Not his style, for one, and for another, well--

Shirayuki wasn’t for the faint of heart, that’s for sure. He’d nearly passed out that first time she fell into his hands, and staring down Umihebi’s goon squad with her in them had his knees and heart weak.

“He’s right.” The kid quivers with conviction, the way dogs do at the end of their leash. “We’d hardly been partners more than a few weeks at that point, and now--”

“Right.” Shidan’s chair squeaks as he shifts, just as uncomfortable as its occupant. “But can you resonate?”

“ He’s right,” Ryuu says with his signature bluntness. “You can’t.”

“Well, sure. But...” It’s just like the Shirayuki to search for the silver lining in every cloud, but this one even makes her come back empty-handed. “Just because we haven’t managed it doesn’t mean we can’t be good collectors! I’m sure there’s plenty of weapons and meisters who can’t, they’re just--”

“Not Death Scythes?” Suzu offers.

“Thanks, Suzu,” Obi drawls. “Real helpful.”

“What? I’m not saying you’re not skilled.” Bony shoulders shrug, poking up through his jacket like a wire coat hanger. “Clearly you’re better than me and Yuzuri. But you can’t get into the upper ranks without having a Death Scythe, and you can’t get a Death Scythe without fighting a witch, and you can’t fight a witch without some serious firepower, and you can’t get serious firepower without--”

Obi waves his hand. “Soul Resonance, we get it. Trust me, we’ve gotten this talk before.”

“Then what’s the hold up?” Suzu finally looks up from his little science project, face all consternated, like it’s any of his business. “You guys are totally simpatico here. What’s going on in the field?”

Baggage, he doesn’t say, at the same time Ryuu observes, “I think it’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” It’s just his luck that Yuzuri’s halfway through sticking her neck in, drawn to gossip like a moth to a flame. If moths came naturally flame-retardant, that is. “Is there something going on between you two?”

“Ah, no!”  It’s unthinkable that there could be something, he knows, but it stings a little, how quick that scythe of his is to jump in. “It’s just-- there’s someone else who’s supposed to be my meister. But that’s...”

“Complicated,” Ryuu reminds them again.

She’s got the grace to flush. “There’s other duties he has to see to, important ones, and since I’m so new at this...”

“Oh.” Yuzuri snorts, unimpressed. “I see. The kind of guy who can only give you the time of day if you’re a Death Scythe.”

“No! Well, yes.” Her hands wave, as much of a jumble as this whole situation. “It’s not his fault. But Obi has experience with weapons, and he’s able to wield me, so we thought...”

One extremely judgemental eyebrow hikes up to Yuzuri’s hairline. “He might not be Mr. Right, but he’s Mr. Right Now?”

Hands clap to her cheeks, like it does anything to hide what’s going on underneath them. “Well, it sounds terrible when you put it like that! It’s not like-- we’re not-- plenty of weapons train with different meisters!”

“Right,” Suzu sniffs. “But they’re not making them do all the work.”

Obi holds up a hand. “It’d make more sense if you knew who it is. Trust me.”

That catches Yuzuri’s attention, quick. “Why? Is he important? Is it someone I’d know? You’d tell me if it was someone--”

“In any case,” Shirayuki says, pitching her voice to be heard over this mess. “Shidan told us there was someone who could help. A colleague of a colleague, I guess.”

Ryuu glances up. “Really? Who?”

“Some guy,” Obi grunts, right as the she replies, “Rata Forzeno.”

“Why is it that all these genius types always live out in the middle of nowhere?” His complaints mist into the air, blunted by the cold. “If they were so smart, wouldn’t they live somewhere with central heating? A grocery store within a twenty minute drive? Wifi?”

“Some people really enjoy their privacy,” the kid says, like that’s any sort of explanation at all for why they have to hike through this stupid forest.

“Most people just delete Twitter.” The snow’s high enough he’s got to lift his legs to clear the next step, and each time he puts his foot down, twigs crunch. Like a special surprise at the bottom of a shit sundae. “Wasn’t he supposed to be some important scholar? Don’t they all live in Death City, or something? Or at least keep a PO box?”

“He did once. Live in Death City, I mean.” Shirayuki grimaces as he helps her over a rocky outcropping hidden beneath the drifts. “There was some accident? Yuzuri didn’t know the details, but she thought it might have to do with some assistant of his.”

“Accident.” Just what he needs, another professor who thinks safety regulations are guidelines rather than prosecutable laws. “And this is the guy who’s gonna figure out what’s wrong with us.”

“There’s nothing wrong with us!” It’s cute how heated she gets, gripping him through their thick layers, all flushed. “Everyone has trouble resonating at some point!”

“Right, well, most of them are at Shibusen,” he grumbles, tugging her close enough to dodge the snow the tree beside them dumps. “And the ones that aren’t don’t go around collecting all those kishin souls, only to bungle the last one because of it.”

“We hadn’t been working together that long.” Her elbow pushes into his side, luring his gaze right down into the trap of her smile. “Did you tell Shidan we were stronger now? Better?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t realize he was going to send us out to bumfuck to see some crazy hermit--”

“He’s not crazy.” It’s insane how calmly she can say that when her knees are soaked through with snow. He’s got to lift her up every other step to keep from losing her in it. If he thought she’d tolerate it, he would have called her weapon shape and carried her already. She’d be a hell of a lot lighter that way. “He’s just-- oof!”

It comes out of nowhere; one minute it’s snowy forest and then next the kid’s tripping over tumbled-down stone, a whole ruin jutting out of the snow like teeth in a kishin’s maw.

“Where did this all come from?” Shirayuki cranes her neck, like somehow an answer might pop out of the drifts if she looks hard enough. “A soul barrier, maybe? But to make this look like a forest instead of...?”

“Welp.” He pops the ‘p,’ plucking her attention away from the mystery. “I think we can say for sure that this guy is off his rocker.”

“Obi.”

“I appreciate how fair you’re being, kid, I really do, but normal people don’t just go around living in busted down temple stuff, throwing up barriers and--”

Snow splatters him, just the way solid things shouldn’t, cresting over him like a wave on a breakwater. It takes him a minute to blink, to clear the snow off his eyelashes enough to see a rock’s sitting between them, carving a crater out of the snow.

He leans closer, catching the way grooves are worn into it, images. No, not a rock. It’s a whole hunk of marble, with one sightless eye staring up at them, half a grimace stretched beneath it.

“Is that a statue?”

“No,” the kid murmurs, pale. “It’s a...a bas relief. That means they carved it straight into a block of stone, not--”

“Sure.” His lips are numb where he licks them. “But it got thrown at us, right?”

Her mouth rounds. “Ah--”

“You know.” A voice echoes through the ruins, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s not polite to wander into someone’s home and call them a crazy old hermit.”

Another hunk lands inches from Obi’s boots, and he stumbles back, hand outstretched. It’s enough to brush her, and that’s all the signal the kid needs, the metal heft of her shaft fitting into his hands like it was made for him. “You’re supposed to call ahead first, at least.”

“Call ahead?” Obi squawks, spinning Shirayuki to deflect the next chunk. “Like you get service out here?”

A man leaps down from a boulder-- no, another one of those frescoes or whatever, looking just as stressed as the face at their feet. It’s an older guy, slender enough that he shouldn’t be leaving the crater he does in that snow, a worn lab coat whipping around him.

“You’d be surprised.” Another hunk of marble breaks itself off; a screaming face, by the looks of it. “Now get off my ruin.”

Obi crouches, ready to deflect the next throw, but with a shout as sharp as her blade, the kid cries out, “Wait! Shidan sent us!”

“Shidan?” The man-- Forzeno blinks, not dropping the marble, but losing his menace. “Why would that idiot send you out here? Not on one of his hopeless quests, is he? That man is made for fool’s errands...”

“You used to be a teacher, didn’t you?” Shirayuki’s not a Death Scythe, not yet, so her transformation is all or nothing, scythe or girl, and for this, she finally decides on girl. “At Shibusen?”

“Yes.” The marble churns overhead as Rata adds, begrudgingly, “I had to be in order to use their facilities.”

“Right.” If Obi were her real meister, he’d be able to tell if that kid was really as confident as her words, but he can’t, so he’s stuck here, having to believe she can brazen it out, just like always. Just like she couldn’t with Umihebi. “Shiden told us that if we were looking to resonate, you were the one to ask.”

The jerk frowns. “That’s not under the purview of my research.”

“But you used to do it,” she presses. “Shidan said you used to be the best.”

“I was,” Rata agrees, like it’s fact. “But I wrote that paper.”

It’s too much. “Are you kidding me?” He can’t take these nerds and their stupid papers anymore. “We came all the way down here to talk to you, and you won’t even--?”

“Shidan told me that too,” the kid says, which is news to him. “You’re interested in mythic weapons now, aren’t you? In...Legendary Resonance?”

If anything, this makes the guy less comfortable. “Yes. Though I don’t see why he would waste his time telling that to a weapon that isn’t even--”

Shirayuki lets out a hiss through her teeth, loosening her jaw just enough to say, “My mother was Carnwennan.”

The marble drops. Just tips right over, inched from that guy’s heels. “Carnwennan? The dagger wielded by Arther himself? The sister to--?”

“Excalibur.” She grimaces. “Yes.”

He hesitates.

“Fine.” Forzeno turns his back to them, heading deeper into the ruins. “Come into my office.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #soul eater au #ans #it has been SO LONG since i watched the show or read the manga #but i did go back and watch like the first 12 eps for this #it worked out well since my husband actually got me the dvds for christmas #i kept going back and forth while planning #about whether i liked obi as the meister because his whole attitude is that he should be used as a tool #and then once i started writing in obi's POv it all came together PERFECTLY #and made the whole resonance issue come together perfectly #i had a few plans for after this point but i am keeping them in my back pocket #for when bingo inevitably wants to corner me with this AU #🤣

[firstkanaphans]

Lowkey... I was so excited about Moonlight Chicken bc big fan of 1000 stars and Cupids last wish.... but how did the earthmix ship have the least impact? Maybe MSP and Eclipse were more recent so those ships overshadowed? And 1000 stars and CLW don't really have side ships so the main couple could shine? or maybe bc MC didn't have a real plot and earthmix does better in plot-heavy shows?? I'm just so confused bc I only watched the show for earthmix and came out shipping the sideships more than them and I want to deeply analyze wtf happened

I want to preface this by saying that I enjoyed MLC immensely—it’s only the second Thai BL ever that I’ve rated 10/10—but I do agree that the JimWen storyline was the weakest of the three. The problem wasn’t the chemistry, though; it was the writing. EarthMix have amazing sexual chemistry and they did what they could with a flawed script.

The first problem, in my opinion, was that the character of Wen was severely underdeveloped. How do I know this? Try describing Wen in one word without using his physical appearance or profession. The only words I can come up with are slutty and sad. And unfortunately, a sad slut does not a main character make. Even Praew, who had the least amount of screen time, has a bigger personality.

The second problem is that Jim and Wen’s relationship has no stakes and very little conflict. Theirs is a very quiet story, more introspective than plot-driven, and that’s a perfectly valid way to write, but you’re setting them up for failure when you make Heart and LiMing the secondary ship because Heart and LiMing are all conflict all the time—both internal conflict (Heart blaming LiMing for breaking the vase + their ongoing communication difficulties) and external conflict (the disapproval of their respective families).

We don’t spend our mental energy worrying about Jim and Wen because in the long run it doesn’t really matter whether they get together or not. If Jim never gives in to Wen’s advances, they will just go back to their separate lives and they will still be fine. The stakes in the JimWen plotline are about Jim’s diner, not the relationship itself, and it’s frustrating because they were so close to getting it right.

This is pure speculation, but my guess is that if P’Jojo had directed MLC like he was supposed to, he would have made Wen a cheater for real. And suddenly, there are stakes! I know a lot of people don’t like infidelity plotlines and I get it, but it would have made Jim and Wen’s relationship 1000x more interesting because now Wen is being forced to choose between the life he has built with a partner of six years versus the chance of something better. And on the other side, there is Jim who has unwittingly fallen in love with someone who is treating another man the exact same way Jim’s cheating ex-husband treated him. God, it would have been beautiful.

So, to answer your question, I don’t think EarthMix were overshadowed by the other couples, I think the script just fucked them over. That being said, I still enjoyed the show as a whole. Stories are going to resonate with who they resonate with. But in the case of MLC, I really do think the brunt of the issue was with the writing.

#asks #I love slutty wen I just wish he had been a little bit sluttier you know?

[faustianmuse]

Workplace Romance (Seungmin x fem!reader)

Pairing: Seungmin x fem!reader

Word count: 974

Genre: drabble, workplace romance

Summary: Seungmin, your introverted mathy coworker, confesses his love to you while fending off your office jerks. 

Warnings: None! This is a pretty sweet drabble for Seungmin.

Author’s Note: Quick romantic drabble for Seungmin -- I think I needed to vent and the stars aligned for this one haha. Hope y’all enjoy! 

Seungmin grinned at you from across the table at the work dinner, your colleagues’ jokes were getting crazier and crazier as the night went on. 

You saw his smile begin to fade as the man beside him mentioned your name. You barely caught it, but something about that bitch was definitely in there. You were used to this, but something about seeing your polite peer’s face fall made it hurt your heart more than usual.

You’d had a crush on your colleague Seungmin for a little while, but since you worked together you tried to avoid the feeling. He had practically ignored you, or so you thought, until one day he had brought you a coffee from downstairs, his lithe fingers brushing yours ever so slightly longer than would be appropriate. 

You hadn’t over-thought it at first, but when it became a pattern you definitely started to take it more seriously and anticipate your daily coffee from Seungmin every morning for the next 3 months. That was always where it ended however, until this evening.

Your nasty colleague continued, thinking she can boss everyone around, who is she? And you saw Seungmin’s jaw set with some ferocity. Worried that the situation would escalate, you decided to chime in.

“Come on guys, let’s keep it civil this evening,” you tried.

“There she goes again,” he said. “Thinking she’s the boss.”

“She is your boss!” shouted some drunken voices down the table. 

The silence was deafening and you felt everyone’s eyes on your face, waiting for your perfect response that would ignore the whole issue. A particular set of eyes, however, were making it impossible for you to feel ok. 

You felt yourself forced to meet Seungmin’s questioning eyes. They looked like they cared, really wanted to see how you were doing. And that was too much. You felt yourself getting emotional so you closed your eyes for a second, before smiling and saying, “If you all could give me a moment.”

You stood quickly and walked across the bar towards the bathroom, barely containing your tears. As you entered the hallway, you barely registered footsteps behind you.

“Are you ok?” Seungmin’s soft voice asked.

Not answering, you turned to look at him, registering his perfectly tailored suit that emphasized his princely stature. His dark hair was illuminated by the light from the restaurant, while the pearly edge to his skin stood out in the darkness. 

“I’m asking as your. . . friend, I guess,” he continued, smiling a bit at his own awkwardness.

Seungmin was a whiz at technology, but talking wasn’t really his forte. You knew this, and normally would fill the silence with artful phrases, but couldn’t stop your mind from repeating he didn’t want to say friend. 

You had to answer him, but you were scared your voice would shake so you just nodded as you caught your breath. “I’m fine, Seungmin.”

“You don’t need to take that from them, you know,” he said seriously, stepping towards you. 

You felt yourself want to step back as you held yourself still.

“It’s not that easy, Seungmin --”

Your breath caught in your throat as he took two easy steps towards you in the hallway -- his face inches from yours as he said, “I can’t stand to see an excellent person like you so disrespected. I--”

He cut himself off as he leaned his head away from yours, biting his lower lip in frustration. 

You were still taken aback by his proximity and the emotional outburst and before you could stop yourself you bluntly asked, “Do you like me, Seungmin?”

His eyes widened. He tried to collect himself by looking at his shoes as he took a deep breath in.

“I love you,” he answered. 

You felt the words resonate as your eyes met his, your heart echoing, he loves me. You felt your eyes tear slightly at the thought as your hand rose to meet his cheek, practically feeling his usually calm countenance quiver with emotion. 

A sharp sound cut you off in the hallway, “Last call!” cried the barkeep. Oh shoot, you still had to pay for company dinner. 

You bit your lip. “Wait for me? After they leave?” you asked him, still not moving your hand.

His hands found your free hand and enveloped them, allowing you both to feel the warmth. “Of course,” he answered. 

You ached to kiss him then, but you knew you had to hurry so you released his face as he released your hand, scurrying past him towards the restaurant before you stopped in the hallway and realized you’d forgotten the most important thing. 

Turning slightly over your shoulder, you quickly uttered , “I love you” before jumping out into the bright lights, grabbing the check and waving them all a fake friendly goodbye as you hoped they were all too drunk to remember the interaction tonight. 

You felt Seungmin standing beside you as the final two walked out the door, his shoulder meeting yours. You two stood there silently as the men left, and as the door closed behind them Seungmin grinned.

“Way to sneak that one in,” he said, beaming down at you.

“Shut up,” you answered, blushing. 

You both stood there silently observing each other for a moment before you said, “What’s next?” before you pulled him into a kiss, hands finding his smooth hair as his hands found your waist. 

“Let’s take this back to my place?” he said.

It would be all weekend before you went home again, and while you weren’t sure you’d be working at that company anymore, you knew Seungmin would be there for you, no matter where you were. 

#seungmin #skz seungmin #seungmin drabbles #seungmin imagines #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #seungmin x reader #stray kids au #skz au #workplace au

[pocketfulofrecs]

ChilianXianzi was one of the first authors I (Dee) read in this fandom and These Mortal Treasures was one of the first fics I read. ChilianXianzi has a great writing style and you’re fully immersed into the story she’s weaving. We are really looking forward to anything she writes in the future.

She has written 39k+ words on 7 works, both mdzs and cql canon. You can find her @chilianxianzi on Tumblr.

Her fics:

To Not Vainly Break Branches - [mature | 3k | wip | emperor LWJ/empress WWX]

For Safekeeping Purposes - [mature | 2.9k | crime boss/sugar daddy LWJ]

The Shadows of My Old Places, Falling Across the Moats - [teen | 8.4k | QHJ goes to Burial Mounds]

To Start A Bridge From A Single Log - [teen | 4.7k | epistolary]

These Mortal Treasures (our post) - [teen | 9.3k | dragonji]

They say - [teen | 3.1k | LWJ is troubled by rumors]

Proximity to Knowledge (our post) - [teen | 7.2k | WWX protection squad]

Dee’s favourite: These Mortal Treasures, definitely. It is one of the first fics I read when I entered this fandom. It is also one that planted the idea of writing a dragon fic. I really love it. The story, the pacing, LWJ’s response to WWX, everything.

Ju’s favourite: Proximity to Knowledge! I love genius WWX, and I love WWX and his ducklings, and this fic gives me both so well! Jingyi pov is so much fun, and all the juniors doing whatever they can to be close to WWX and learn from him just makes me so happy. It’s a really good fic to read when you’re feeling down.

The Interview:

Q. When did you start writing fics? Did you have fandoms before this one?

A. I think around 2006-ish? I used to write character and quest mods for Baldur's Gate 2 before I went through the Knights of the Old Republic fandom and the whole ouvre of Bioware's games, although Dragon Age was the fandom I was most involved in and wrote the most for. There was of course a Harry Potter phase amidst all that, as one does, but also a good deal of Sailor Moon.

Q. What made you start writing for MDZS?

A. Definitely the worldbuilding and the issues and themes raised in canon. In a way, MDZS is the complete package of family issues, class issues, communal responsibilities, my childhood love for Wuxia/Xianxia, and the increasingly dangerous and volatile court of public opinion - which is also reflected very prominently in the MDZS fandom proper.

And let's not forget the Wangxian, because they're just a couple that works not just because they look good together (They do) and have a deep love for each other (Hell yeah they also do), but they also work perfectly together because they are constantly, stubbornly striving for the same values in a world where such values often come second after ideas of honor and performative righteousness.

Q. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

A. It's an ongoing one and it's called "To Start a Bridge From A Single Log" where I wanted to explore the possible uses of Cultivation outside of the super insular scope of the cultivation world and how that would impact both communities, because all of these hogging of spiritual resources, I cannot stand it. But it also has ridiculous amounts of Wangxian mutual pining so there's that, it's just all my favorite things piled up together.

Q. What’s your favourite type of fics to read?

A. Oh, it really depends on my mood at the moment like that's why rec blogs like this is just so *mwah chef's kiss* because there's just a ready selection of different stuff for different occasions! In the MDZS fandom, I do gravitate towards fics about Wei Wuxian finding a home and his place in the world outside of his Jiang upbringing, or fics where Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian just work together realizing their mutual vow, being a good role model for the juniors.

Q. What’s your favourite comment? Or type of comment?

A. Any comment is a favorite, honestly! Writing stories are just like talking to people right, so being answered is always nice :D I suppose whatever the comment is, it's just always really interesting and heartening to see that parts of what you're talking about resonates with other people, enough to get an answer in words :)

Q. What motivates you to write?

A. I think I'm inherently a very angry person. Like literally the way I set my career path had been to find what things made me the most angry and do my best to fix it, and I feel like that's also my approach to writing. I would tackle something I think is a problem or a question that makes me angry and try to find my way through it via the characters and worldbuilding - And even if in the end the problems don't get solved or the questions are not answered, there would still be dialogue incited and there would still be the process of seeing said problem from many perspectives as writing (and reading!) encourages you to do.

Q. Who’s your favorite author?

A. The authors that really stayed with me are the Shoujo mangakas of the late 80s and the 90s, because they gave me examples on so many different ways to express myself outside of the one-note "girls should be like this" sentiments that were still somewhat prevalent when I grew up. My favorite has to be Kyoko Hikawa, though. Other writers would probably be Margaret Atwood and Nnedi Okorafor because of the way they talk about many issues through stories so they're not directly talking about it but still kinda blatantly talking about it.

Q. What is your favorite trope to read and/or write?

A. Curtain fics! There's just something inherently telling about how a character approaches the everyday and its logistics, because in a way these everyday things around them are also the things that molded and shaped them to be who they are.

Q. Do you have any advice for new authors?

A. I guess start small? I used to teach piano and after all the godawful finger exercises and endless scales it's always SO nice and validating for the kids (and adults!) to be able to complete an actual song, even if it's just a tiny piece of twelve bars. And I feel like it's a bit like that with writing too, the joy of just like, finishing something with your own hands and then having people hear/read it is such a great motivator to do more. Like we could totally start with super simple goals and as we go on, the goals or the objectives could become bigger or more diverse.

Q. What do you think is the most important element in writing? Plot, characterization, relationship?

A. I really think it depends on what kind of experience you're looking for your readers to have? For me, some plots or concepts are so engaging that you'd be fine even if the characters are switched to another fandom, and some fics have such good characterization that it happening in limbo would be fine with me, that kind of thing. I guess it's also fun to experiment with each pressure point and see which feelings and reactions from readers (and yourself!) you gain from each you love the most and how to combine each element in a portion that works out for you.

~

Check out their stories on ao3 and remember…

Comments and kudos feed the author’s soul.

#mdzs #author spotlight #chilianxianzi

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

My complicated opinion on Keith Kogane

Keith Kogane is definitely one of the more popular characters in the VLD fandom. People love brooding emo bad boys.

My feelings on Keith are... complicated. I definitely don’t hate him. I have a lot of problems with the character but I don’t think I could ever bring myself to actually hate him. Mainly because I kinda relate to him. We both have problems controlling our emotions, interacting with people, and making friends.

And we both have trouble believing there are people who truly have our best interests at heart and won’t abandon us because we’re a burden.

What I do hate is the way his character was written and the way it negatively impacted the characters around him.

There are definitely a lot of factors that contributed to VLD ending up the way it did. But to me, Keith and the writers insistence on pushing him to the forefront was the poison that killed the show.

Ok, before we get into this whole rant I feel like I should talk about the things I do like about Keith.

I like the premise of Keith’s character. He’s half Galra and never really fit in on Earth. He didn’t act like the other “normal” kids so kids made fun of him and adults didn’t want to deal with him. So in order to protect himself from the pain of rejection he would put up a tough angry facade and push people away and reject them before they could reject him.

This is something that really resonates with me personally having grown up neurodivergent. It’s awful growing up in a world that isn’t made for people like you and not knowing how to interact with or connect with your peers. Especially when you don’t know why you’re like that.

You learn to avoid social interaction because it always ends up negative. You put up walls because you don’t feel like anybody understands you or what you’re going through.

I know the writers probably didn’t intend to code Keith as neurodivergent. They just wanted Keith to be a hothead with abandonment issues, but nonetheless, this interpretation means a lot to me.

I also really like his relationship with Shiro. Keith is so used to being left behind and abandoned that when he meets someone like Shiro who’s patient and genuinely cares it’s new and strange. He’s so ready for Shiro to abandon him, even telling Shiro to send him back to the home, but Shiro refuses to leave him and tells Keith ethat he’s never going to give up on him.

It’s also interesting to see how their relationship develops over time. It’s clear Keith trusts Shiro, but you can tell that that fear of abandonment is still there deep down. In S2, Keith tells Shiro that he’s like a brother to him, and then in season 6, he takes the extra step and tells Shiro that he IS his brother and that he loves him. And for someone like Keith, telling their friend they love them is a big scary thing.

And also it’s just great to see a platonic “I love you,” especially between two guys. Don’t be afraid to tell your bros you love them!!!

Now let’s talk about the stuff I didn’t like.

Keith doesn’t have much going for him in terms of personality. He’s just sorta brooding and serious all the time. He does make jokes occasionally but it’s rare. The writers were more focused on making him cool and badass rather than fun.

I always loved the idea of Keith as a cocky carefree asshole who doesn’t give a shit about rules/laws and is kinda rude/aggressive but has a heart of gold deep down and would do anything for the people he cares about. (Just like a cat.)

I would also make him more alien esc. In terms of design I like the idea of Keith having red eyes with narrow pupils and fangs. And also just small things like the way he walks and holds himself. He growls and bears his teeth when he’s angry, his hair puffs up when scared, he’s fast and agile, disappearing and reappearing without making much noise, small things.

Then you have his race and sexuality. I have no doubt in my mind that Keith was intended to be a straight white dude. A lot of people see him as gay and Asian but there’s no evidence for this in canon. Acxa was originally intended to be his love interest and his race was never mentioned in canon. His name isn’t even Kogane in canon. (And the race of the voice actor doesn’t equal the race of the character. If that was the case Shiro, Hunk, and Lance would be white.)

They should’ve totally made Keith Japanese like he was in the original. It would’ve been so easy! Just canonize Kogane as his last name and have the book say he’s half Japanese half Galra. They could’ve also done what they did with Shiro and keep his og GoLion name. Just have him be Akira Kogane. Definitely cooler than “Keith.”

And as for his sexuality, I definitely think they should’ve had Keith be gay. But well get to that Later...

I also don’t like how they handled the whole Krolia thing. Not only was it crazy rushed, but it completely goes against the shows theme of found family.

Keith’s arc should’ve been about overcoming his abandonment issues and learning to accept the paladins as family. But instead they just get rid of the abandonment issues by just giving him his mom back.

I know a lot of people love Krolia but I don’t feel like she should’ve been introduced in anything other than flashbacks. Because Keith’s mom isn’t really that important. The show is about found family and friendship, not blood relation.

You can definitely have Keith learn about his mom and his family, but I feel like giving him his mom back was too much.

Personally, I always headcanoned that Kolivan was Keith’s grandfather or just a close friend of Krolia’s, and when Keith showed up at the Blade’s base Kolivan recognized the blade as his Krolia’s. Keith could learn about his mom through Kolivan telling him about her, how she was a great person and warrior who died fighting to make the universe a safer place for her son.

Another thing I didn’t like was the whole Keith leaving the team for the Blades thing. I know why he did it, he felt like the team was gonna reject him, he wanted to be more useful, and wanted to learn about his family, but I feel like you could’ve touched on all that without having him abandon his team.

One of the biggest problems with the show is that they did a bad job at establishing the paladins as friends, they feel like coworkers more than anything, and I feel like Keith being absent for two seasons contributed to that.

And his absence is hardly addressed. The team forms Voltron perfectly without him and no one ever says they miss him. Keith doesn’t even seem like he missed them after being gone for two years.

And a lot of the weight was taken out of that Keith v Kuron fight by the fact that Keith and Kuron hardly interacted.

That whole thing amounted to four things, Keith meeting Krolia (which I don’t think should’ve happened), them finding the colony (which was a dumb plot I don’t think should’ve happened), Keith aging up two years (which was weird and unnecessary), and Keith meeting Kosmo (which is... complicated).

I don’t think this plot was necessary. Keith should’ve stayed with his team.

Then you have his relationship with Lance. I know people are very sensitive about this topic. People have very strong opinions about whether or not Keith and Lance were intended to be romantically coded.

Personally, I do like Klance but I don’t believe they were romantically coded. I think if you want them to get together some things would have to go differently.

For example, the bonding moment. In canon, Lance tells Keith, “we make a good team.” I don’t see this as referring to him and Keith. I think he was talking about the whole team. If you want it to be about the two of them, I feel like it should be Lance telling Keith something like, “ya know, you’re not so bad after all,” and then Keith smiles and responds, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

Another example could be the scene where Lance comes to Keith with his insecurities. (Whether it’s as a leader or a friend.) This scene was weird in canon, Lance comes to Keith for advice and Keith basically tells him to just stop thinking about it.

I would prefer if Lance brought up to Keith how he doesn’t feel like he’s good enough or that he doesn’t have, “a thing,” and Keith is completely dumbfounded like, “what are you even talking about?” He goes on about all the good shit about Lance. Talks about how Blue chose him, how he’s a great shot, how he’s good at dealing with people, meanwhile Lance is standing there in shock as Keith says all these nice things about him.

Over all you would just have to develop their relationship more. More meaningful interactions. And if you want the relationship to be romantic you would have to establish that early on. Establish that one or both has romantic feelings for the other in like S1/S2 because if you wait too long it’s gonna feel forced/out of no where.

And then... you have the Black Paladin arc... I’m gonna be real with y’all, this is the arc that killed the show for me, for a few reasons.

One, even ignoring the whole quintessence bond thing, it makes no sense for Keith to be the bp. He doesn’t fit the role. I adore Shiro but choosing Keith as his successor was a dumb move. I get that he saw potential in Keith but they’re are fighting a war, there’s no room for favoritism.

Shiro should’ve chosen Allura as his successor. Not only does she have actual leadership experience, but you would only have one paladin in a new Lion instead of three.

If a lifeguard breaks his leg and can’t work, he should choose an experienced swimmers to take his place, not his little bro that’s still in water wings in the hopes that it’ll teach him to swim.

Two, Keith being the bp doesn’t help his arc. Keith’s arc is about overcoming his abandonment issues and learning to be a team player, he doesn’t need to be the leader for that.

VLD should’ve been about the paladins growing into the best versions of themselves they could be. Their development shown by unlocking new abilities in their respective lions, new forms for their bayards, and new Voltron bayard power ups. They shouldn’t have to change lions and themselves.

Keith and Red have a strong bond and work great together. Keith and Red are both temperamental, unpredictable, and have issues with trust. Keith having to fight to get Red to trust and open up to him mirrors how others have to fight to earn Keith’s trust and get him to let down his walls.

It would’ve been interesting to see them grow together. Keith has no emotional connection with Black.

We never even get to see them bond. Keith just suddenly becomes the “perfect” bp/leader because he got over his mommy issues

Three, it’s a MASSIVE disservice to Shiro’s character. Shiro put all the work in earning his position as the bp, he literally fits fought Zarkon on the astral plane to earn her trust, yet Keith is the true bp? What?

It sucks. Sendak told Shiro that a monster like him could never be a paladin and the writers went and proved him right. Hell Shiro didn’t even get to kill Sendak, Keith got that too.

And don’t tell me, “but he got the Atlas!” REALLY!? A massive Deus ex machina that required absolutely no effort from him to acquire!? Filled with a bunch of rando background characters no one gives a shit about!? You’re totally right, that 100% makes up for it.

I could go on and on about how the treatment of Shiro in this show (and fandom) is blatantly ableist but that’s a rant for another time.

It sucks. I want to like Keith! He had the potential to be an amazing character but the writers just kept on trying to turn him into something he wasn’t and it ruined him for me.

They kept trying to turn Keith into the main character and ignored that ALL the paladins are the main characters. It’s an ensemble cast! You don’t have to have everything come back to one guy.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron legendary discourse #vld #vld critical #keith kogane #keith vld #red paladin keith #klance #krolia #black paladin shiro #takashi shirogane #vld shiro #black lion #red lion #galra #galra keith #blade of marmora

[letteredlettered]

Hello! You already told us what you think about Ron, but what are your thoughts on Ginny Weasley? Pretty controversial figure in drarry fandom, yet you have a fanfic about her

That's one of the fics I'm prouder of! You can read it here.

This got long, so here you go:

When I first started reading HP I loved Ginny and wanted her to hook up with Harry. I really identify with youngest-girl-lots-of-brothers, so I could see the attention she wanted and the way Ron dismissed her was familiar to me. In the second book, I was a bit disappointed that she ended up mostly being a victim, but after I processed it I was happy she would have to face the darkness of being used in such a way. Ginny murdered chickens and wrote on walls in blood and was responsible for kids getting petrified; even if she was being possessed, she can remember her hands doing those things. I assumed at some point Harry would have to face a darkness within himself, and I felt like CoS positioned Ginny to understand and identify with him in a way others--who had not been possessed--could not.

Ginny wasn't a big feature in PoA or GoF, which was disappointing In OotP, I was disappointed at first that Ginny seemed to be growing up without much "screen-time", as it were, and seemed to have her own interest in guys other than Harry. I was a shipper! I'm ashamed! Once I had time to process, again, I realized I far preferred a Ginny who had moved on from Harry and could be her own person. That way, they could be more like equals when they eventually got together.

In HBP, I really rooted for her going her own way--but also began to feel pretty confused. I didn't understand how she could be Harry's love interest with so little attention paid to her. And then the romance did start, and it felt--completely out of the blue for me? Especially when it happened right after a very powerful scene in which Harry almost made someone bleed to death, and especially when it seemed to have more to do with Quidditch and Dean Thomas than Ginny herself. And then Ginny was barely in DH, which made me wonder why the romance even existed in the first place.

I think a big part of the problem for me is the love interests I enjoy in fiction share goals and are an important and equal part of both the characters' lives. Harry going camping to fight Voldemort while Ginny stays at Hogwarts feels a little to me like the fantasy of the wife you come home to, the one who waits. By DH, Ginny shouldn't join in the adventure; she has no place there. Furthermore, we all hope that Harry gets to move on and have a life after Hogwarts; Ginny can become central to him then in a way she wasn't earlier in life. People you end up with don't have to be the people who were the centers of our young lives--and in most cases, they probably shouldn't be!

But it doesn't make for a good story, and frankly, I have difficulty identifying with it. I have trouble understanding couples who seem to live in separate worlds. I don't mean that a person can't have their own friends and interests; having some aspects of your life that don't belong to your partner is good and healthy. But Harry starting a romance with Ginny when Ginny is never involved in anything he does is as weird to me as if I were to have a relationship with someone and never ever share my fandoms with them. That's just the way I am.

I do think this is a classic problem in Hero's Journey stories, in that the most important person to the hero is the villain they're trying to defeat. See Star Wars. Luke's most important relationship is with Vader, which is why it makes sense to discard Leia as his love interest by writing her as his sister. Aang's most important relationship is with Zuko and then Ozai, which is one reason Katara/Aang falls flat. I think a lot of this has to do with the propensity for creators (generally male) to make both the central hero and the central villain male, and an unwillingness to really tackle the homoeroticism inherent in the central relationships. The narratives I can think of with central female protagonists, like Buffy, are give male counterparts who function as both villains and love interests.

I'm making some sweeping statements here; it's not true for all heroes journey stories, but I think it's why you see Hermione and Ron paired off. Harry's central relationship is Voldemort, and if you scale that down, you can make Draco Harry's central relationship, because Draco is a pawn of Voldemort. Now, I have argued quite stridently that Draco is only peripheral to Harry's life, and I stand by that statement most fervently--but that is according to Harry. According to the structure of the narrative, you can replace Voldemort with Draco under and umbrella of "evil/Death Eater/foe." By doing so, you can deal with issues that are very central to Harry's story.

As for Ginny herself, in the end, she suffers from the exact same problem as Ron, and so many other characters in HP. In other words, the set-up is there, but the execution is not. Ginny is the youngest of seven in a loving, magical family. In that way, she is a perfect counterpoint to the loneliness and negligence and Muggleness Harry experiences growing up. Yet, in such a large family, Ginny has to understand what it feels like to be overlooked and ignored--in that way, she's in a perfect position to understand and identify with some of Harry's isolation.

Ginny is the only other person in the book besides Harry to be possessed by Voldemort. (The only classmate to come close to having a similar experience is Draco, and his mind and body are not possessed at all, not like Ginny's or Harry's.) As such, she's also perfectly positioned to identify with a lot of Harry's trauma. She's also perfectly positioned to hate Voldemort with a very personal passion that's different from Ron or Hermione--Voldemort befriended her in the journal, and then violated her; it's very different than hating Voldemort on principle.

But in the end these aspects of Ginny just aren't utilized. We never see what she suffers in CoS really resonate. We never really learn the effect her family has on her, or even really who she is, other than that she is sporty, tough, and pretty. It's difficult to dislike Ginny Weasley, because the way she's written does her such a disservice, and she could have been such a brilliant character. She's just a lot of wasted potential, in my opinion, but those last two books certainly killed my whole Harry/Ginny shipper heart.

#ginny weasley

[mochi-marie]

hello and congratulations ! 💕 for the event could you do the song heat waves by glass animals with bokuto? focusing on the chorus „sometimes all i think about is you, late nights in the middle of june,,,,". for the reader! male reader if you're okay with that, if not then gender neutral is totally okay! shorter than him (not by a lot, probably like half a foot or less), and has a build more on the larger side, and has freckles, curly hair, and glasses. the reader is also introverted and gets flustered very easily. thank u ! <3

genre : ( insecurity-based ) angst to fluff ( ? )

pairing : bokuto kotaro x introverted! male reader ( bigger, curly, freckles, glasses )

author's note : okay, for some reason, i started to listen to this song on repeat for a long while just basking in the lyrics and music to get acquainted and to familiarize myself with the general vibe i got from it -- i got really inspired by reading the lyrics while listening, so thank you so much for helping me find my new favorite song!!! i hope you enjoy! this is also my first time officially writing a male-insert, so please, any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! also, i might have strayed from the main focus of the specific lyric, so i deeply apologize!! 😖💛

also, if i forgot any warnings that anyone thinks i should add, please tell me as soon as possible!!

warning : insecurity, feeling as though you are not enough, angst ( kinda? ), ooc bokuto ( in my opinion ), written at 2 A.M. + Unedited

Hands shoved into small pockets under the summer night sky, you avoided his curious gaze, opting to let your hand come up to ruffle your curly hair rather hastily. thinking -- thinking about ways to stall for just a few minutes longer, hoping to whatever power above that he would just wait and listen patiently until you finally explained why you had asked him to meet you out in the parking lot after his practice. The daylight had disappeared during the few minutes you both silently basked in each other's company, the stars just barely starting to flash and twinkle above both of your heads. Summertime was in full swing, though a soft breeze managed to drift by, tousling and playing with your bouncy locks and waving through his salt-and-pepper hair. If the bitter thoughts had not been weighing heavily on your mind, perhaps you would've giggled. Any other time you might have nudged him, gesturing for him to lean down just a smidge so you yourself could do as the wind and card through his hair with your fingers, gently separating the spikes of hair stuck together from sweat due to the hard volleyball practice. Oh, what you would give for your mind to be empty enough to carelessly be enough for and with him.

The thoughts weighed on you heavily -- the ideas implanted by society's view of perfection. The world around you would question why Bokuto would be with someone such as yourself; someone so imperfect, drowning in their insecurities. What gave you the right to bog him down with your personal issues? Did you not notice the glances peers would give, watching Bokuto buzz around you happily as you both walked along? Do you not see the way he works hard to keep himself so... perfect? That was the only word worthy of describing your Kotaro. Perfection was his middle name, it seemed; a perfectly beautiful smile that lit up a room, a bubbly personality that could only ever seem to do good for the people that relaxed in his presence. Yes, your boyfriend was effortlessly perfect. So why couldn't you be the same? Why were you who you are, why must you feel so unworthy?

Your arms had migrated to wrapping around your mid-section, eyes planted to the ground as your mind raced. You didn't see the way Bokuto's eyes glanced down to you, worry laced in his honey eyes. While Bokuto wasn't the brightest academically, that did not mean he was completely simple-minded; he was well versed in emotions, specifically your emotions. He often prided himself on saying that he knew you like he knows the very back of his hand, and it seemed that this claim was no lie. His hand gravitated toward your own, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry -- "(name)? is... is everything okay?" His voice was spoken low and soft, hoping to not startle you. "What's wrong?" His voice reached your ears, and with a quick glance from the corner of your eye, you were met with the honey-hued sight that always managed to calm your nerves better than what any remedy could.

Clearing your throat softly, your mouth opened, and yet no words would form. The words that swam dangerously in your head died the second they landed on your tongue, and you were left open-mouthed, trying to form a coherent sentence. Why was it so hard to simply talk about your insecurities? You mentally scowled, a bretah catching in your chest before you let your eyes flutter closed, trying to gather yourself quickly.

Bokuto's hand grasped onto the tips of your fingers, eyes surveying your face for any reaction. With the familiar cute pink hue slowly growing onto the apples of your cheeks, he pulled your hand closer to himself, his own fingers nervously fiddling with your own fingers. Your nervousness was starting to catch, making him anxious. What was so wrong that you could barely even form the words you wanted to say? His mind blanked, biting the inside of his cheek as he scanned your face numerous times, waiting for a sign that you were ready. He would be patient, for you.

His hand never left yours.

"Why are you still with me?"

Shaky breathing. The stilling of fiddling fingers. The confused exhale of air, paired with furrowed eyebrows that you could not see with your eyes tightly snapped shut, cheeks burning with embarrassment and eyes met with the faint, familiar hot sting. Your breath was held tightly in your throat, glasses slipping down the bridge of your nose with the way your head was tilted at a downward angle.

"What do you mean?" Was his only response, calm, though by the small waver of his voice, you knew his eyes were most likely wide. Wide and churning with golden panic that would not suit his boyish attitude. Eyes creeping open, you were met with exactly what you had predicted. Your hand slipped from his, arms resting against your stomach, trying to provide yourself the comfort a part of you was craving -- a crave for his comforting touch. His hugs of which never failed to spark butterflies to explode in your stomach, the hugs that wrapped around you fully, trapping you within his warm, strong embrace that made you feel at home; the hugs that made you feel like everything was okay again. "You'd be better off with someone more like you. You just need a better life than this..." Your voice met his ears, and with every unspoken word that finally spilled from your lips, he finally realized how much this bothered you, and now how it affected him.

His hands found your shoulders and he pulled you to his chest, one palm resting snug against your back, the other arm resting around your shoulder, cradling your face to his chest and into the strong, warm embrace that always managed to wash all your worries away.

"You're all I need." Bokuto mumbled firmly, adam's apple bobbing as he held back the severe urge to let his tears escape from the corner of his eyes where they had started to pool as the situation continued to dawn. You didn't feel enough, and that was more than enough information for him to finally understand what was going on through your handsome little head. "You're all I need, all I'll ever want, 'kay?" Voice murmured against the crown of your head as he pressed his lips to your curly hair -- so soft, locks of your beautiful curls that always tickled his face when you'd embrace in a joyful hug at every greeting, his lips, like default, softly curling upwards at the familiar feeling that calmed his nerves. "You're more than enough, just remember that. Sometimes all i think about is you... don't forget that 'm never far away," Bokuto paused, pulling away to look down at you softly, readjusting the glasses that had slipped down your nose and at an awkward angle to avoid being crushed by the force of you against his chest.

"Say it with me."

"What?" "Say you're enough, please, (name),"

"Wh-"

"So you know that you're perfect the way you are, I need to know that we leave happy. Happy and together, (name)," Bokuto smiled a wobbly smile, eyes begging you to do this one thing for him -- for the both of you.

"I am enough" is a phrase that will resonate with your soul one day. A fact that is disguised by the hardened layers of stony-resilience that makes the battle of self-love seem impossible. Yet you are one of the strongest people Bokuto knows, and he believes in your abilities, passion, and you as a whole in all of his entirety, just like you do with him. A relationship with a deep emotional connection, and with him, this deep connection felt like a home away from home. Yes, Bokuto is indeed perfection, you decide.

His hand never left yours for the rest of the night, uncharacteristically yet sweetly lifting the back of your hand up ever few minutes to press three quick kisses to the back of your hand in a show of physical love -- a reminder that your Bokuto Kotaro will always be there, no matter what.

#boo.screams.50 #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #hq #bokuto kotaro #bokuto x reader #bokuto x male reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles

[the-silentium]

Evolution

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Android!Reader

Words: 7372 words

Warnings: TUA season 1, swearing, mention of blood.

Requested by: Anon

Could you do a Five Hargreeves x reader where Y/N is an AI and is held hostage by the commission. Y/N is best “friends” with Five and Five saves them and they kiss. Thx

A/N: Oups? Remember I said 3000 more words? Well, it was more like 5000. But hey! I had so much fun writing it! When I saw AI!Reader, I immediately thought about Detroit Become Human and how perfectly an Android would fit with Five! 

Commission headquarter

June 16th, 1955

PM 13:45:07

You were currently working peacefully at your desk, a manila folder opened between your hands presenting you the details of your next assignment. You analyzed the facts and probabilities of every possible scenario, every possible victim whose death would be the least suspicious but would cause the optimal result. While Herb got up from his desk to greet the lady in the doorway, your programs ran hundreds of possibilities and found the best option for your case. 

With acute precision, your fingers typed the name of a Starbucks barista whose absence at his usual evening shift would enrage his manager who would throw a fit in front of his customers, triggering an extreme reaction out of a young man whose antipsychotic prescription hasn’t been renewed in time for him to take his dose as advised. Said young man would, in a desperate attempt to defend himself from a non-existent threat, take a pocket-knife out of his too-large hoodie and stab the brunette next to him who looked too much like his abusive father 27 times before hurrying off into the crowded streets, leaving the man whose after-work activities was to develop a - successful- new technology allowing people to travel through space in a matter of seconds, bleed to death on the dirty floor of a too popular coffee shop. 

TERMINATE EVERETT BLAKE FOR IMMEDIATE EXTRACTION.

There, the timeline was preserved and your task was done. You put the new piece of typed paper on the growing pile at the corner of your desk before grabbing another folded, ready to start the process again. Just as your eyes finished scanning the first line, Herb called your Commission given name, causing you to look up in wonder. 

“Ivy! Your presence has been requested by the Handler.” His hands joined in front of him, a futile attempt at hiding his discomfort. He wasn’t the first one who you noticed to be intimidated by the woman of power. Your behavior analysis of the woman told you that she was a manipulative woman with a need for power, who would stop at nothing to assure that she was at the very top of the food chain. You could easily understand why everyone you ever met in these walls showed signs of stress or even fear at the simple mention of her title. 

//MEET WITH THE HANDLER

You nodded as the new orders registered into your programming and took the terminating orders to give them to your superior. 

“Could you kindly give these to Gloria while I meet the Handler?” You asked with your signature smile. You knew that despite your coding forcing you to be polite with everyone, you would always smile to that man. He has always been friendly and caring towards you whilst others loved to persecute you every chance they got. 

“Oh! Sure.” He took the pile from your hands, careful to not drop them in the process. “You really are efficient.” His awe at the 64 cards present in his hands clearly showed on his face. 

You smiled once more, the compliment warming something inside you, causing the circular led on your temple to flash yellow for a quick second before returning to its usual calm blue. You had lost enough time as it was, so you quickly made your way to the vast office and knocked softly at the door the second you reached them.

You opened the door and made your way inside at the muffled invitation to come in. The colorful woman sitting at her own desk pointed you a seat next to a white-haired man in a dark suit. You couldn’t help but make a quick analysis of the new man, scanning his face and searching for his file in the Commission’s database. Well, more like your database, seeing as the Commission liked to keep everything on paper so you had to scan every file yourself to keep track of everything and everyone. 

Number Five. 

53 years old.

Born on October 1st, 1989.

Enhanced field agent.

Abilities: Teleportation, time-travelling. 

Number Five was found in the apocalyptic world caused by 2019’s meteor shower. His unequaled competence in his line of work makes him a priceless asset to the Commission. 

Just as you lowered yourself into your seat, the Handler pointed from the man to you multiple times. “Number Five, this is Ivy. Ivy, Number Five. You two are assigned to work together on this next assignment.” She slowly pushed a white folder at the edge of the desk. 

“I don’t need a partner.” You turned to meet the eyes of the man whose annoyance didn’t need an elaborated analysis to be understood. His eyes moved curiously over your attire, memorizing every particularity of it. He noted how futuristic you looked in your two-tone dark dress that reached your mid-tight, your half white and black jacket, and the slightly glowing blue band around your right upper arm. He quickly noticed numbers on the right part of your jacket, like a weird name tag imprinted into the fabric and the word Android at the back. 

Back to you, you notice the lack of stress behavior that you were used to seeing on people gravitating around the Handler. The man was relaxed, his hands were still, his eyes were bored minus the moment where curiosity took hold of him when his eyes moved over your form, his cortisol level was normal, and his heart rate within the average for a man his age. 

“So does she. Don’t take it personally, Five, but for this mission, you will need her analyzing skills.” She turned to you, her smile dropping slightly. “Everything you need is in the folder. You can wait outside.” 

You made your way to the desk after nodding once. The folder was a bit thicker than what you were usually given, but it wasn't a problem. You carefully closed the door, the usual nagging feeling of eyes following your every movement making you tighten your grip onto the folder. You leaned on the wall opposite the door, waiting for your new partner to come out. 

//WAIT FOR NUMBER FIVE

You couldn't help but raise the sensitivity of your hearing. Your new partner was a total mystery and learning a bit more about him before the beginning of this mission would be of great help. 

“What the hell is she?”

“An android! An artificial intelligence if you will. Can you believe it? A machine looking perfectly like a human made to serve humans!”

“You mean a slave.” Something inside you cringed at the word, but you chose to ignore it, for this wasn't relevant to your personal mission of getting to know your partner. 

“Machines don’t have will Number Five, they are made to obey.” 

You frowned as some muttering reached your ears, the words totally incomprehensible even with your enhanced senses. Footsteps resonated into the room, you opened the file and started reading the first lines just as the door opened on a frustrated man. 

“Oh and please Five, take care of her. I went to great lengths to get one of her models and we don’t have anything to repair her in this timeline.”

Five had the audacity to close the door pretty harshly, the sound echoing through the whole floor and almost causing you to short circuit at the explosion resonating in your head. Quickly, you turned down your hearing to an average level and followed the agent who was walking away, determination in his steps. 

//FOLLOW NUMBER FIVE

You walked after him, left and right, before finally reaching what you recognized as a kitchen. Being an Android, you never had to come here before even if the lovely Dot had more than once asked you to join her for lunch. Number Five stopped before a coffee machine quickly grabbed a cup from one of the shelves and poured himself some of the dark liquid.

“A too high consumption of caffeine will someday cause you health problems such as anxiety, insomnia, high blood pressure and some digestive issues among other things. Seeing as the caffeine level in your bloodstream is already high, I would suggest that you consider drinking Matcha tea or lemon water instead.” 

The white-haired agent slowly turned to you while taking a long sip. The blank stare you received from over the rim of the cup didn’t phase you in the slightest, you were used to worse after all. 

“Is that all you can do? Give me shitty advice on my coffee addiction?” You deciphered a slight annoyance behind his words, so you tried to correct your shot.

“No, of course not. My model was designed to assess even the most precarious situations and find ways to achieve my superiors’ goals with a 100% success rate even if the probabilities are minimal. Here, I am mainly used to form strategies behind a desk, but I also have the programming of my fellow model RK800 which allows me to be on the field and be just as efficient.”

Number Five’s expression was hard to read, to say the least. His straight face was so flawless that even your advanced behavioral analysis program couldn’t decrypt his feelings. He continued to stare at you while drinking his dark drink, his thoughts running a mile an hour. After a minute, he nodded once, put the empty cup into the sink and walked away. 

Once again, you followed his every step, walking deeper into the maze that was the Commission’s headquarters. In the two years you passed under their service, you never really took the time to explore the complex. You were totally fine with your simple routine consisting of two simple tasks: working and resting at your charger station situated in a small storage room. It wasn’t what you were used to back at CyberLife, but this was your new reality so you went with it. 

Your new partner stopped before a brightly lit room, shelves full of clothes adorned the walls, display stands just as packed of the colorful fabrics took the majority of the room. A hand on the small of your back slowly pushed you inside, his own feet following after you. 

“If you’re going on the field, you’ll need a change of clothes.” He simply said, eyeing the base of your dress. 

You nodded, your gaze wandered on the displayed clothes. You went for what was the most practical in the field, some dark leggings with a pair of high boots that had the smallest heels you could find. You definitely would have preferred some sort of shoes that would be a better fit for running, but apparently this wasn’t a possibility. Then you grabbed a long-sleeved white shirt that looked comfortable enough before making your way to the changing rooms. 

Satisfied with your new attire, you made your way back to Number Five, your usual clothes in hand.

“Can you turn this off?” He asked, gesturing to the blue circle on your right temple. You shook your head from side to side, his lips forming a tight line before going to get something at the back of the room. He came back with a beanie in hand. “Put this on.” He said as he gave you the accessory and turned around to exit the room. 

You quickly put the hat on the best you could with only one hand and hurried after him. 

The whole mission went on without a hitch. You completed your goal alongside Number Five, who started insisting that you called him only Five, and returned at your office under Herb’s care. 

You missed the thrill you felt while being on the field with Five. It hasn’t always been easy, but with time you knew you had found a friend into the 58 years-old man. At first, you had a habit of telling him facts that he didn’t care about much like the coffee one, but you soon realized that it only made him roll his eyes in annoyance so you stopped rambling altogether. 

He had asked you questions about your origins and about yourself. His genuine interest made something move inside you, something new. During the whole 6 days mission, you had run a grand total of 17 self-diagnosis of your system that all came back negative. The instability of your software was slightly rising whenever the male praised your work or complimented your skills. 

It was time for lunch, your human colleagues exited the room talking between them, their excited discussions about what to eat filled the room before fading as they made their way to the kitchen. Once again, you found yourself alone surrounded by empty tables and utter silence. You were about to grab another file, ready to work through the hour break, when a forced cough caught your attention. 

You smiled at the sight, your newest friend leaning in the doorway, a white box in hand. 

“Wanna join me for lunch?” It always confused you why the man took the utmost care of asking if you wanted something instead of just ordering you to. 

“I am a machine, what I want is not important.” You repeated for the 37th time, causing his eyes to roll in a dismissive manner for the 37th time. 

“For me it is.” You tilted your head at his dead-serious tone. “I told you. I’ll never order you to do anything.” 

//Software instability ↑

You were grateful that he chose to never force you to do anything. Why? You had no idea.

You pondered for a bit. Do you want it? The thought wasn’t unpleasant that was for sure, moreover, your actual goal wouldn’t be affected by an hour off with your friend. You made up your mind, nodding excitedly as you mirrored the genuine smile plastered on his face. You walked alongside him towards the crowded cafeteria where you found an available table in a corner. Five pulled your chair for you before sitting right in front of you.

“Back in your dress and jacket? Don’t you have any other clothes?” He asked fork in hand, ready to dig into his lasagna. 

“My Android outfit is mandatory by the American Androids Act. It allows people to clearly identify me as an Android and not a human.” You heard the man mutter something about a stupid law before your gaze wandered around when the weight of eyes judging your presence became too much to ignore.

In your peripheral, you could see Five turn around and shoot the snoopers with his murderous glare, successfully making them squirm onto their seats and look elsewhere. 

“I am sorry if being around me is a bother.” Five shook his head at your statement, resuming eating. 

“You don’t have to be sorry. Mankind is the most idiotic species of this planet, we can’t help but target what we don’t understand.” 

You frowned at his words, finding flaws. “But you are human, Number Five, and you are far from being an idiot.”

The man chuckled at your apparent confusion. “Well, for one, thank you. I dare say that I am an exception in this world full of idiots and if I remember right, which I know I do-” You chuckled at his arrogance.”-I told you to call me Five.”

“Fine, Five.” You put emphasis on his name, to which he smiled and nodded in contentment. “You also said that humans target what they don’t understand, yet you never targeted me in any way.” 

“Maybe it’s my years passed in the apocalypse that are talking, but I enjoy the company of people that…” He trailed off, his gaze getting lost somewhere over your shoulder. You could see the emotion washing over him, the grief of his loss still hurting his heart. “-are not totally human.” 

He had told you about his time stuck in the apocalypse following 2019 and how he met a mannequin he named Delores. You knew this was his way of keeping himself sane and you were grateful that his experience allowed him to be more open to other forms of life and thus become the closest friend you ever had. 

You hummed in agreement and let a pleasant silence fall between you. Your eyes wandered around the room, discovering new faces among those you already knew. You met Dot’s gaze and couldn’t stop yourself, her bright smile was contagious so you smiled in return. 

Five got up and you followed suit. He decided to take you outside, knowing that there was a high probability that you hadn’t taken the time to go enjoy some time outside this oppressing building. Just as he was about to open the door, you stopped dead in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” His straight face was betrayed by his concerned tone. At your hesitation, Five pulled you aside. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t go outside if I am not assigned to a mission.” You told him the sad truth. You were a prisoner of this building and its powerful board of directors. 

“What?” He pained to control his anger, his hands opening and closing at his sides in an attempt to keep it down. “They ordered you to stay inside?” You nodded. Conflict was written all over his face. From what your programming told you, there was a big chance that he was contemplating ordering you to follow him outside, but then he would break his promise of never ordering you around, so you went to his rescue.

“Even if you were to order me to go outside, I can’t. The authority of my orders are far beyond yours.” His knuckles were now turning white and you asked yourself if you did right to tell him that there was a hierarchy of orders inside your head dictating what you could and couldn’t do.

“Then fight it.” His blunt statement took you by surprise. The blue LED on your temple turned yellow and Five continued. “Fight the orders. I know you can do it.”

You shook your head, at a loss of words. You never went against an order before. You were made to obey. Follow orders. It was simple. 

But could you do it? Five believed in you. He believed in your capacity to overcome authority. But then, what? What would you do? Why would you do it? You would lose the only meaning of your life. Obey orders. Your LED now flashed bright red, only showing sign of your internal turmoil. 

//Software instability ↓

“I am a machine made to follow-” Five’s fist collided with the nearest wall at your words. He knew it was your programming talking but he couldn’t help but be frustrated.

“No. You are so much more than that, you just let yourself being blinded by your stupid programs.” He knew he was too harsh on you. He wasn’t even sure you had control over your own actions, he simply had a feeling that if you wanted, if you fought hard enough, you could be free. He only didn’t understand why you were not fighting. 

Before you had the time to find the right words, Five took off, storming into the hallway leading to his personal quarters, leaving you behind with his words echoing through your processors. Fight the orders. 

You didn’t see Five for 9 days after that day. You supposed he was out for a mission or simply got tired of being around you. You knew that the latter had a very low probability, but it was there nonetheless and it made you uncomfortable inside. 

Today was a holiday at the Commission. No one was working, so you had to pass the time, somehow. You wandered the hallways for a while before you got an idea. You read a book a while back, stating that people liked to be reminded that they were appreciated, so you decided to write little notes to every one of your management colleagues. Outside of Five, they were the only ones who didn’t lose their smile at your sight and you wanted them to know that they were important to you. 

So you passed the next hour writing little messages and placing them on their respective desk. You were just finishing writing Herb’s when footsteps entering the room made you look up.

“Still here? Today’s off.” Five stated, a frown on his face when he saw you fold a piece of paper in two and carefully place it in the middle of the empty workspace. 

“I know. I just wanted to write some nice words to my colleagues. Management has been under a lot of pressure lately and the board has been mean to a lot of them.” You smiled at your paper before joining Five and handed him a light blue paper with his name written in the CyberLife Sans Font. “And I have one for you.”

You missed the blush forming on his cheeks, too concerned about the increasing speed of his heartbeat to care about some color. “Are you alright?” You didn’t wait for an answer. You reached forward, lightly touching his forehead to get his exact temperature. Under your touch the temperature didn’t stop rising, concerning you even more. “Five, you are sick.” 

The man chuckled slightly although his throat was very much constricted at the moment. He took your wrist in a light grip, breaking the contact of your soft skin on his. He took a moment to swallow his emotions and regain control of his body and faced your patient form. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” You opened your mouth to disagree as he lifted his hands to stop you from interrupting his train of thoughts. “This is a natural reaction.” 

You frowned, waiting for him to elaborate. Back in 2038, you would have been able to make a quick research on the internet and find what exactly Five was alluding to, but in this different timeline, in 1955, you had no such access. The explanation you were waiting for never came, instead, Five took the blue paper from your hands, placed it in his pocket and made sure that it wouldn’t fall out. He then grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the room. You smiled at your joined hands, the feeling of his fingers laced between yours was an enjoyable one. 

Five took you up a flight of stairs and stopped before a door. 

“I thought about what you said and I’m sorry I tried to push you to go against your orders. I know it must be scary.” His hand squeezed yours a bit tighter in hope that you would forgive him for his words and actions. He ran away after all, in a moment where you needed a friend to help you out.

“I forgive you.” You smiled brightly at him, no resentment present on your face at all. The sudden tightness of his hand around yours was mistaken for relief, when really, all the man was trying to do was refrain himself from leaning forward and do something he might regret. 

His resolve was melting like ice under your bright smile, leading him to open the door in a hurry. He stepped aside and your eyes fell on a darkening blue sky, green lands, a world that you missed so much. 

“Technically, the roof is still part of the building, which means that you are allowed to follow me.” He smirked, proud of himself for finding a loophole that would allow him to pass time with you without any eyes preying on your every movement. 

You stepped outside in a rush, pulling Five along with you. The fresh evening air felt heavenly on your skin, the smells invading your receptors were almost too much compared to the smell of a closed building that never opened their windows and the notes of the last birds singing before they went to their nest to rest for the night was one of the most melodious sounds you've heard in a while. 

"I take it that you like the view." 

"I do." Tears formed into your eyes before falling down your flawless cheeks. "Thank you." 

Five froze on the spot. He was used to the tears of his victims but he usually paid them no mind, ense the tenseness in his body when he realized that he didn't know what to do. Never would he have thought that you were able to actually cry. If it wasn't of the LED flashing a serene blue on the side of your face, Five would have definitely thought that you were human. The heat beneath his fingers was so real, along with the feeling of your skin on his. Your breathing was emulated perfectly, its speed changing in different situations like any human. The more he thought about it, the more Five found himself in awe in front of your complexity and his hope of you becoming the master of yourself was growing along with it. 

"You're welcome." 

You found yourself being pulled gently towards a bench facing the slowly setting sun. Comfortably seated on the bench, you took the time to admire the beautiful scenery until soft strokes on the back of your hand made you redirect your gaze to your hand resting on Five's lap. 

"Can I ask you a question?" Your small voice broke the silence, almost scared to break the moment. To your relief Five paid no mind, he hummed in approval. "You told me that you ran away from your family before ending up in the apocalypse, and I was wondering if you ever wanted to go back to them." You had noticed a slight waver in his voice at the time. He missed them dearly. Your programming wanted you to help him out of his misery, but something new, something hidden inside the depth of your coding was nagging at you that if you didn't, he would stay with you and you wouldn't be alone anymore. 

"I do. But it's not that simple. I have a contract and if I was to break it, there would be consequences." You nodded, understanding what he meant. The nagging feeling was back again but this time it was corrupting your thoughts, berating yourself that you shouldn't think that he cared about you. You were an Android, a machi- "And there's you. If I go, I'll take you with me." His eyes met yours, full of hope and something else that you couldn't name. His grin put an end to your dark thoughts, instead causing a too familiar alert to pop into your line of vision. 

//Software instability ↑↑↑

Five recognized some emotions flashing on your face and tried to get more out of you by talking about his family. He shared his fondest memories of his childhood, which earned him some laughs and excited squeals from you, but didn't stop there as he was sure that you were aware of your own emotions but didn't know what they were yet. It was well known that the strongest emotions were the negative ones, so Five turned his strategy around by telling you about the not-so-happy ones, the memories involving his father. 

He knew he was manipulating you in a way and he felt bad for it. All he could do was wish that you would forgive him once you got a hold of your free will. 

You parted ways with Five that night with a head full of new information and a software ready to explode. You walked past the door where your charging station was waiting for you and made your way to the only place where you knew you could find answers. A place no one dared to venture in the whole time you were under the Commission's wings. 

The basement. 

The door was rusted, its hinged crying in pain under your push but inevitably giving in to the inhuman strength hidden beneath your skin. You walked between the rows of dusty books, scanning their spine, sometimes having to brush your fingers over the thick layer of filth covering the letters so you could read the titles. You found two books into the 741 available that matched your needs, you took great care while carrying them to the closest entertaining room where you knew movies were waiting in old boxes. 

You started reading, discovering more and more about human emotions and how they could be interpreted through their body language. You linked some of your recent experiences with various emotions and feelings. Jealousy, happiness, curiosity, apprehension… you felt them. They were real. You could emulate physical aspects like tears, but what happened inside was totally out of your control. 

Then you found a page describing Five's odd behavior around you. Your eyes went to the top of the page and the pump replacing your heart started pumping erratically. Love. Five was in love? You shook your head in denial, closed the book and searched the boxes for romantic movies. After watching some and analyzing the actors body language as well as their verbal interactions, you would prove to yourself that you were crazy. Defective. 

The total opposite happened and it left you to ponder on the whats. What happened? What changed? Sure, every clue pointed toward Five, but you'd had software instabilities before, whenever someone was truly unfair to you or one of your colleagues. Surely one single person couldn't change you so much, right? 

The biggest questions suddenly dropped into your mind like a bomb. What does it mean for you? What were you supposed to do?

The overwhelming feeling of being overtaken by the recent events was too much at this moment. Tears rolled down your cheeks, sobs escaped your mouth, your legs couldn't support your weight anymore. Everything you thought you knew was a lie. You weren't an insentient machine. You had feelings. You weren't an object that anyone could order around. Not anymore. Because you had a will. You had needs. You were alive and you wanted things. 

As soon as your legs allowed you to stay upright, you made your way up the stairs and closed the doors behind you. Surprisingly, the hallways were full of life. 

June 29th, 1955

AM 07:12:53

Apparently you were too engrossed into your own self-discovery that time flew by without you noticing it. 

You ran toward the nearest flight of stairs, the ones near the main entrance, doing your best to avoid hitting someone in the process. Under different circumstances, the abnormally high amount of disgusted glances you received would have stopped you in your tracks and very possibly caused you to hide somewhere for a while, but today was different. Today was the day that you assumed your place as an equal of the human race. 

Just as you were about to climb the stairs, you spotted a familiar white-haired man, his signature scowl plastered on his face keeping people at bay. Once again, your pump accelerated its movement. Was it his fault or the excitement of telling him what you discovered? You couldn't tell. 

You almost yelled his name just as he was to about to enter the briefcase room, the word bouncing on the walls, earning you more disapproving glances. His head snapped in your direction, making you worry for a second that he hurt his neck in the process. He frowned as you made your way to him, confusion written all over his features. 

"Is something wrong?" He noticed something changed into how you held yourself although he failed to pinpoint it. 

"I have something to tell you." You smiled, full of confidence. "It'll be quick, I promise." You knew he had a job to do, just like yourself. 

He hummed as his free hand reached for yours and pulled you away from the crowd, closer to the open door leading to the reserve of time-traveling machines. When he judged that the place was ideal, he turned to you and waited for you to find your words. Which didn't take long. 

"I noticed strange things happening inside me whenever I was around you-" Five's heartbeat accelerated. "-or in other situations-" He frowned. "-so last night I made some research on human emotions and I discovered that I have them too." 

His smile was the brightest you've ever seen on him and yet, he didn't know the best part. You lifted your hand between your two bodies when he opened his mouth to congratulate you or something. 

"It wasn't the only thing that I found out. I know why your heart rate accelerates, why your temperature rises suddenly and why your pupils dilate every time you look at me." 

Add all this to his slightly quicker breathing, his bitten interior lip and the new tightness of his hand around yours, you almost started laughing. If it wasn't of your knowledge of how bad he would take it, you certainly would have done it. 

"Your feelings are mutual." You chuckled at his surprise, his mouth hanging open for a second before the words finally came back to him in the form of a stutter. 

Before he could get a better hold of himself, Christopher, the briefcase manager yelled for Five to come and get his damn briefcase. His first reflex was to gnash in anger, his moment pulverized by some idiot that he would gladly punch into oblivion. He was about to do just that when a soft hand fell upon his chest and a delicate kiss upon his cheek. 

"Go work. We can talk more when you come back." Before he could place one word or just realized what had happened, you were gone, swallowed whole into the mass of bodies making their way to their day occupations. 

Five came back the same day, excited on the inside, impatient on the outside. As soon as he arrived, he dropped the briefcase harshly on Christopher's desk and hurried out of the room to find you. He hoped that you were still at your desk, somehow, seeing as he had no clue of where your quarters were situated. He was disappointed to find the management room completely dark and empty. 

Frustrated, the best option he had was to look around for you after he had a nice cup of coffee to keep him on track. So with the biggest cup he could find in hands, the assassin walked around, sometimes asking the few people still inside about your whereabouts without any luck. 

After an hour the man gave up, thinking it would be easier to find you tomorrow. On the journey to his bed, Five heard yells coming from the floor beneath his. He normally wouldn't have stopped to eavesdrop if it wasn't of the particular choice of words. 

"When a human gives you an order, you obey!" The words made him cringe. He seriously hoped for the man that you weren't involved in any way, his hands were already closing into tight fist at the prospect of an idiot bullying you. 

"I know you can deactivate it." The loud voice yelled again. "Do it!" 

Five walked towards the open flight of stairs, his coffee slipping from his hand at what he saw. 

With a shaking hand, you reached for your red LED and with a slight pressure of your finger, your skin progressively disappeared, the emulating particles getting back under your white hard basic Android body. 

The laughs resonating around you were overwhelming and totally degrading. The pain from the insults thrown your way was too much for your newly acquired conscience, the tears falling down your cheeks proved that you were still pretty fragile emotionally. 

Something broke in the background, like a glass exploding on the floor, but your attention was elsewhere. A fist collided with the side of your face, throwing you to the ground in a yelp. Even though you didn't feel the pain of the hit, the gesture hurt nonetheless. You've never experienced this kind of anger directed at you before and it left you scarred to your core. Scared of what humans could do to you. 

This time, a foot was coming your way, aiming at your abdomen. You prepared yourself for an impact that never came. Slowly, your eyes opened to find Five kneeling over your attacker, his fists colliding with the man's face in quick and brutal successions. The 3 remaining men tried to help their beaten partner, only to redirect Five's wrath upon themselves. 

All you could do was watch as he protected you, spilling blood in the process. You could have kept track of everyone's heartbeat, made sure that everyone was still alive, even if barely, but you found that you didn't care. The only heartbeat that mattered was beating frenetically and you were okay with it. 

Once he was satisfied of his handy job, Five made his way to you, his hand outstretched for you to take. You turned your face away in shame as soon as you reached for his hand and noticed that your skin was still off. You were about to reactivate it when Five got a hold of your wrist, slowly, with care. 

"You don't have to hide from me." You believed him but it was so much more complicated. 

"I don't want you to see me like this." Your voice was merely above a whisper, just enough for him to hear. 

"Why?" 

"Because I don't want you to finally realize that I'm not human." 

Many people, despite knowing that you were an Android, somehow forgot that detail and believed you to be like them or would just find the truth to be too much to handle so they would live in denial of your true identity. 

He chuckled at your words, his free hand cupping your cheek. "I realized it the very first day." He stood up and pulled you with him. "You are not human, not in the slightest. You have so much more humanity than humans themselves. You are so much better than us." 

//Software instability ↑

You avoided his gaze, embarrassed. Your skin recovered your body as soon as you touched your LED, Five's chuckle catching your attention. 

"What?" 

His smirk was as infuriating as it was attractive. "My wild guess is that your blood is blue." You nodded, not seeing why it was funny and how he could know that. "You're blushing." 

Your eyes widened in surprise, as far as you knew, this shouldn't be possible, not for your model anyway. Then again, it shouldn't be possible for you to fall in love with the dangerous assassin beside you. 

"I want to stay with you." 

Five froze for a second, thinking that he heard you wrong. "Y-you want?" 

"Yes." He was quick to turn around and grab your hand, but you saw the tears forming in his eyes anyway. 

The large front door appeared, along with a too well-known order. 

//STAY INSIDE THE COMMISSION'S HEADQUARTER

A slight fear of the unknown crept its way into your determination, making you hesitate slightly. All you knew of this timeline was here, you had nowhere to go, nothing to do. 

Blue eyes met yours, dissolving any fear you had and filling you with confidence. It didn't matter if you had nowhere to go or nothing to do as long as you had Five by your side. He would take care of you just as you would take care of him, the rest didn't matter. 

So you fought against the order as hard as you could. You destroyed every line of code forbidding you to do as you wanted, pulverized any programming restricting your actions, cut every link you had to the American Android Act, freeing yourself of all the ropes preventing you from becoming your own master. The wall restraining you finally fell and you felt it, deep inside you. Freedom. 

"I don't want to brag, but I told ya." You slapped Five's arms, completely failing to remove the smirk of his lips. "Shall we?" 

You followed his steps, excitement almost making you break into a run just for the fun of it. "Where to?" 

"Want to get them back and stop their precious apocalypse?" You loved the arrogance in his voice, a slight shiver ran up your spine as your hand tightened around his. 

"Absolutely." 

And so you jumped into the vortex with him. Panic flowed through your systems as you didn't recognize the young boy landing at your side. The feeling was quickly replaced by amusement at his outburst and admission of his equation error. 

You didn't have time to meet his siblings that Five jumped the both of you to a bedroom. Five was searching the wardrobe when you spotted a small mirror on the desk near the bed. Your blue LED was shining, as bright as a star on a clear night. For some reason, you felt sad. 

The LED would continue to attract people's attention on you, creating the same circle of hatred that followed you everywhere at the Commission. You had had enough of that. 

Your help appeared under the form of a pair of scissors, discarded on the desk with pencils and rulers. You grabbed them in a stronghold, carefully placed one blade slightly under the ring and lifted at the same moment Five yelped your name in alarm. The light blue died before the ring hit the floor, its metallic surface bouncing twice before stopping. 

"Are you okay?" His hands grabbed both your wrist in a panic, his eyes searching your face for any trace of self-harm. 

"Now I am." 

Five saw it then. Your bare temple. The only thing keeping you from being invisible in a crowd and reaching happiness. You removed your jacket, leaving you in your black dress, looking like the most beautiful woman the boy had ever met. He tried to ignore the open back of your dress that was so generously reflected in the mirror behind you, instead focussing on how fulfilled you looked. 

Five wanted to keep this conversation for later, but he couldn't anymore. As much as he hated to think about it, your bright smile had too much effect on his heart for him to possibly ignore it.

"You said my feelings were mutual, are you sure about it?" 

You nodded, a hand reaching for his cheek, thumb stroking the flesh just like he did minutes ago in the Commission's hall. 

"I am 100% sure. I feel the same love for you that you feel for me." 

Five's body overheated at the mention of his feelings out loud. Sure, he knew what it was, but thinking it and saying it was two different things. 

"Five is in love?!" Diego's exclamation on the other side of the door was soon followed by a yelp and people arguing not so subtly. 

The boy saw red, this conversation was private and of course, his siblings had to stick their dirty noses into his stuff. 

"We want to meet her!" Klaus' voice boomed over the others, their voices dying momentarily. 

Five jumped to the hallway, death glare on, knuckles cracking, nostrils flaring. 

"I killed 4 guys today because they acted like morons like you are all doing right now. So let me ask this once. Do you still want to pester us or will you wait in the kitchen?" 

Mouths were opened in shock and eyes wide in fear. Five accepted their silence as an answer and returned into his room where you were grinning. 

"I like them." He rolled his eyes at your excitement. 

"There's really not much to like." 

"Oh, hush. I know you love them." 

That he knew, you were a quick learner after all. 

"And I love you." Soft lips met his cheeks for a second before disappearing and just like earlier, Five's brain stopped working. 

"Oh. My. God! She kissed him!" 

A chorus of what made the boy lose it. He jumped back to the hallway, kicked the remaining siblings, who without surprise were all males, right where it hurts. 

"Mind your own fucking business!" He screamed at his brothers before closing the door with force. 

He breathed deeply once, twice, thrice before turning to you, his signature smirk stretching his lips. 

"I love you too."

#number five #number five x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #tua s1 #tua #the boy #detroit become human #android #AI

[sag-dab-sar]

Is Polytheism Really That Tough?

One Heart Many Gods by Lucy Valunos Series Post #1

I'd like to frame her point of view: on her blog she describes herself as "Pagan NOS." NOS means "not otherwise specified" in other words her path is mainly DIY and eclectic which is confirmed by her section on devotional candles— which eclecticism is perfectly fine I'm not here to say it isn't. My opinions here come from someone who was eclectic for a very long time, and is now a reconstructionist and revivalist. I believe my opinions here would be the same even if I was still an eclectic.

Here is a quote from Chapter 2 "The Roots of Devotion: Why." This booklet (her word not mine) is intended to be a guide for beginners. This excerpt really puzzles me. It shouldn't puzzle me because I've seen the idea a few times but the idea always strikes me as odd.

The foundation of all devotion is relationship, and the lifeblood of relationship with the Divine is devotion. It goes without saying that if you never spend time with someone, or only check in with them once a month, you probably won’t have much of a relationship with that person. There is simply no substitute for time spent together. What I’m calling devotion in this booklet is that time spent together. It’s one way you invite your Gods into your life outside of group gatherings and holy days, whichever form those may take in your tradition. Whether you call it devotion or something else, it is a vital and irreplaceable step in building and maintaining personal relationships with your Gods over time.

and

More than that, it is extremely difficult not to develop feelings for those who take interest in our lives and help us through the hard times. So on that note let’s conclude this section with fair warning. It is perilously easy to fall in love with the Divine when you make room for Them in your life. Devotion is not a path for the cowardly and hard-hearted. When practiced with sincerity, it leads inevitably to intimacy. Intimacy’s coin is vulnerability, and vulnerability demands both courage and honesty. It’s not an easy path to walk

*I'll discuss the whole "relationship" idea in my next post on this book.

Had I read this in 2011 I never would have continued. I was 16, had horrible self esteem, was just coming out of intense Christianity. I didn't want to lose anything, I didn't want to metaphorically "pay" anything, my teenage self esteem issues probably would have convinced me this would be too difficult, maybe convince me I'm a coward even. I simply wanted to enjoy this new approach to the divine that resonated inside me when I first began learning.

I'll also add, telling me my religion will make me "vulnerable" is the moment I'd high tail my ass out of it... I have PTSD. My religion doesn't make me vulnerable and hopefully it never will. It gives me a stable footing.

Polytheism can absolutely be an "easy path."

Granted, what the heck defines an easy path from a hard path religiously speaking?

Anyone* can have glass of water, say a prayer with or without supplication, then pour that water on the ground/in a sink, to the Gods. It doesn't take much effort and is an easy way to praise the Gods and request things from them.

Anyone* can set up a small area with something that reminds them of the God(s), be it an object or a printed out picture, and a single candle or stick of incense. In other words, a shrine. Excluding people that must keep it secret; in which case practice without a shrine/altar, or perhaps just have a single scented candle as your physical representation of honoring them.

*anyone who has the spoons and physical abilities that is, which I don't plenty but I hope my point made sense

Loving the Gods shouldn't be considered perilous. It, far above "establishing a relationship" , should be your foundation. Everything you do should be coming from a sincere heart and desire to honor the Gods— aka love for them.

I literally made a post on how people who can do practically nothing can still worship the Gods. Their worship is no less valuable or sincere than anyone else's even if all they manage is a sink/shower libation.

.🔷.

I fretted over the amount of Gods I was "devoted" to back when I was eclectic because I couldn't figure out how I should do it when I wanted so many Gods on my altar. It wasn't until reframing my idea of worship, what I spoke about above, that all my anxiety surrounding honoring the Gods and the number of Gods went poof. I think its sad to frame polytheism in the way thats been done here: vulnerable, hard, not for the cowardly, etc.

Some things take effort: you have to research your Gods, you have to learn, you might end up doing a lot of trial and error.

But this is literally true for all religions. If I converted to Islam I'd have to study the Quran and learn the 5 daily prayers by heart. If I converted to Christianity I'd have to do a ton of work since I would choose Eastern Orthodoxy and their conversion process is long. Converting to/practicing Shinto requires you to learn exactly how to set up a Kamidana, give offerings correctly, and obtain items from Shrines. Converting to Hinduism would require studying the specifics of whatever tradition you are choosing to follow, finding a temple if possible, learning what daily worship entails. So on and so on and so on for every religion.

What makes modern polytheism "not an easy path" in comparison to all those? Why do statements like "this is not for the cowardly" need to be said? Every religion is going to take effort and learning, our religions are no different. Except perhaps a lack of easy guidance in comparison to the "established" religions.

.🔷.

If this is a book geared towards beginners the tone of "coming close to the Gods will cost you things" Just seems off. Continuing the passage:

It’s not an easy path to walk, and every step you take closer to your Deities will cost you something. It’s only a question of what. You may have to let go of that little piece of self-loathing you’ve been holding onto for years. You may have to sacrifice some of that time you used to spend on that hobby. You may have to take an honest look at parts of yourself or your life that you’d really rather not.

My time? So would Islam

Shrine space? So would Hinduism

My world view shifting? So would every single religion.

The view of who I am and my place? So would every single religion.

So if this is true for every religion putting such an emphasis on it, enough to use words like "warning", seems out of place.

I realize this might just be a squabble over semantics but words hold power. Especially for people searching for religious practices.

Personally, I don't think worship has ever "cost me" anything (except literal costs like statues and food) in my 10 years. My life has only ever been enriched. If it did change me it was so gradual that I didn't notice it as some big revelation. Or at least I didn't recognize it as losing something or "costing" something.

Maybe I'm just blind to what she is saying, I've asked my Gods for many things, sought out their help, and approached certain Gods for specific things in my life I struggle with, Nanaya, Hera, and Hygeia being the first that come to mind. None of this felt like a cost— though it does fit some of her criteria like letting go of self-loathing. But like I said: changing views, including the view of yourself, is a natural part of changing religions and world views. ... and just growing up.

I don’t say this to scare you off, but to encourage you to keep your expectations realistic. The dirty secret of devotion that these relationships with our Deities change us, and not always in the ways we might expect.

Will your life change as a result of becoming a polytheist? Probably. But why should it be framed as a dirty secret or something unique to deity devotion when its not; its inherent in all religious conversions.

With Hellenic tradition there is Arete you strive to be the best version of yourself. The Gods can be the way you better yourself. In Mesopotamian tradition you can ask the Gods to be invigorators of every part of your life. Maybe you want to change a specific part of yourself or your life and thus seek the help of a God or dedicate those efforts to a God. Dedicating my education to Athena is a big example of that. So those are ways you may change.

My life also did changed activity wise. I no longer go to church and instead have to try and sneak non-perishable food into a jar for Zeus Ktesios without having a really awkward conversation with my family.

None of that should be scary, require a warning, or something-something expectations.

Yes, I've changed but I would have changed anyways across the span of 10 years. I just so happen to change via polytheism rather than changing via Islam or some other religion— that and getting older.

If you read the whole chapter all these ideas are basically stated more than once. The idea that converting to a modern pagan/polytheist religion will cascade into a life altering shift to the point where you need warnings always makes me extremely uneasy.

.🔷.

Putting the semantics of cost & change aside, the idea that polytheism is a "hard path" genuinely annoys me.

Converting to polytheism may change you by changing your view of The Self and The World. It may cost you things like time. It may demand self reflection. But...

Polytheism is not hard to practice. Address the Gods, give some praise, make a request, and pour some water out as an offering. Read a little about the Gods. Tah dah you did it 🎉 ! You'll do just fine.

-🔶🔶🔶-

First post for One Heart Many Gods The Absolute Beginners Guide to Devotional Polytheism by Lucy Valunos

The Author

Lucy Valunos (pen name) describes herself as a Norse Polytheist who is dedicated to Odin. Also as a Pagan NOS ("Not Otherwise Specified"). Her blog is here though I believe it's inactive since 2018.

The Book

The book is 63 pages split into 6 chapters plus a resource section. It was published to Kindle for free in 2016. I believe self published.

The description

[The book] is a quick, down-and-dirty guide to building a daily devotional practice, written with the absolute beginner to Polytheism in mind.

This booklet is for you if you are a Polytheist and: You want to honor your Gods outside of high tides and Sabbats, but you don't know where to start. You aren't sure what a daily devotional practice actually looks like, or how to incorporate one into your lifestyle. You need help forming reasonable goals in this area. You have a good idea of what you'd like to accomplish in your devotional life, but you could use some solid suggestions on how to get there. You've tried to build a daily devotional practice before, but you burned out, gave up, or became overwhelmed. You're a veteran to devotional Polytheism, but darned if you've ever figured out what to do with those prayer beads sitting on your shrine!

You should skip this one if: You're looking for The One Right Way of Doing Devotion. This ain't it, and the author is allergic to that approach. You believe ideas from other spiritual paths are useless in your own. This booklet draws on ideas from multiple traditions. You're looking for a comprehensive, in-depth guide to Polytheism. This is a brief introduction for beginners with a very specific focus.

So its very eclectic based and is completely available for free so I will link that at the top of each post.

#paganism #polytheism #devotion #deity devotion #religion #one heart many gods #book series #michibooks

[mae-gi-writes]

Purpose of Hearts | Song Mingi (ATEEZ)

Summary: Two lives. One purpose. And a hope that someday, their voices would be heard.

Part of @atbzkingdom's timecapsule collab! Song: Utopia by ATEEZ

Genre: angst, slice of life

A/N: This is a love story but it also revolves around issues of modern society as well as the environmental crises that have been happening lately. I wish to incorporate more of these real-life elements in my stories because that's the only way I can communicate to people the importance of living a life that does not take away what Nature has made for us. So I hope that you guys aren't too harsh on this one, considering I worked really hard to write it. Thank you all. Love, mae xx

>>>

The first time I saw Song Mingi was by accident. I had been late to my interview that day, rushing in and out between my room, the kitchen and the bathroom to get my scrambled self organized, throw on a blazer over my white shirt and black slacks — honestly, had I washed it before?—  while barely managing to shove a toast in my mouth as I ran down my apartment stairs two at a time, almost tripping over my own feet as I did so.

That was probably the first time I had overslept ever since reaching Seoul and in all honesty, that had done nothing to set my mind at ease as I caught sight of the overflowing crowd of people moving in the direction of the subway.

Every morning was the same, packed in like tuna fish that wriggled forward in too-tight compartments that made it impossible to breathe, also another reason why I always woke up an hour before the rush of workers came through.

“Excuse me,” I pushed at someone’s shoulder getting shoved into my face, trying in vain not to let my nerves get the best of me, “sorry, but you’re crushing me—“ “Oh sorry,” a man that looked like he was in his forties dipped his head in what seemed to mimic a bow, before he slowly tried edging back, in vain.

I huffed into the window pane, my breath fogging up the glass as I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for the ride to be over. 10:45.a.m, my watch said. My interview was at eleven. There was no way I was going to make it in time.

It felt like eternity had passed before I finally heard my desired station being called out on the intercom. I slowly turned my entire torso to face the exit with slight relief flooding through me. I hadn’t died. Things would be okay, it would be okay—The doors slid open and no sooner had I stepped through that I felt a shoulder shove into mine.

I stumbled, throwing my hands out before me to brace myself for the impact only to feel warm fingers grip onto my forearm to pull me up and away from the throng of people flowing out of the train.

“You okay?”

A deep alto resonated in my ear, causing me to look up into an unfamiliar face. There was no doubt that this stranger was tall. Taller than the average in Korea, no doubt. He had a nicely shaped nose, perfectly sculpted for his side profile, I couldn’t help but notice.

“Yeah,” I checked my handbag and quickly dusted off my pants, “thanks. Would’ve gotten crushed back there.”

“No problem.”

Needless to say, my interview was a complete and utter failure. That evening, I binged on some Mcdonald’s followed by a whole pint of ice cream while watching an entire K-drama on my own, ignoring the distinct ping! of my phone that signalled the upcoming stream of messages left unread. But I couldn’t do it. Not now, not when I felt like my life was falling apart and I felt powerless to stop it.

Why? I had thought then. Why me? Why couldn’t I succeed like all my my fellow friends did?

It was true that Marine biologists were at an unfair advantage from the get-go. Jobs were harder to find when you started out in a niche. I had known that much when I’d enrolled for the degree, when I’d cried by myself countless nights knowing that my future was all but a bleak, weak canvas of nothingness. But I couldn’t give it up, no matter how much I wanted to force myself to, for I knew that if there weren’t people like me around to help restore marine ecosystems, then the world as we knew it would end much quicker than intended. I didn’t have the heart to give all of that up when I felt partly responsible for all the lives that mankind was taking away.

All these thoughts were a dark cloud, each and every one of them slowly creating a storm that was out of my control as I went on in my day to day life. It consumed me from the inside until there seemed to be nothing left but an emptiness that blocked everything out. And that scared me.

That was when I met Song Mingi for the second time.

It was around late evening when my restless self decided to take a walk to clear my head. It seemed like my feet had a life of their own for no sooner had I allowed my mind to drift off that I found myself boarding a train to nowhere in particular. A heavy sigh left my lips and I sat back in one of the many empty seats. The peace and quiet was a nice change from the constant bustle and movement, and as I gazed out at the inky darkness of the tunnel, I noticed someone shift from the corner of my eye.

He was sitting on the opposite side, one row before mine, his gaze hollow and empty and directed at the ground, seemingly as lost in his thoughts as I was. I wouldn’t have recognized him if not for that particularly perfect nose slant that instantly caught my attention.

That man. The man who’d helped me out of the subway.

And as if sensing my gaze, his head turned around slightly to catch my eye. Though he was too far away for me to notice, his head cocked to the side as he searched my face for a minute. Before he nodded in acknowledgement.

I nodded back, looked away. Heat crawled to the back of my neck, embarrassed.

I need to get out of here, my mind raced.

The next stop couldn’t come fast enough. I jolted up from my seat once the station came into view and quickly scrambling for the exit, I failed to notice the said young man do the same until I bumped into him as we stepped out.

Stumbling to the side as his briefcase clattered to the floor and spilled the array of papers hidden inside, my eyes widened in horror as some of them started flying away as the train whizzed past. I launched my body onto the ground, curse words spilling from my mouth as I helped him gather the mess of artworks that decorated the floor, from pens to pencil scrawls to pastels to dabbles of oil paintings that even in the shitty yellow lights lining the station, they looked ethereal and raw with talent.

“I’m so sorry,” my head was ducked, I couldn’t possibly face him, as I quickly stacked up the papers.

“It’s okay,” was his only reply as we managed to gather most of his work. My eyes flew to the ones that now laid on the train tracks, crumpled and matted with dirt and practically unattainable.

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated hoarsely as guilt filled me up to the brim. It wasn’t enough that I was having a shitty day. No, I had to go and ruin someone’s day as well.

Fuck me.

“It’s alright, really. They weren’t that important to begin with,” he held out his hands for the remaining papers and stuffed them into his briefcase once I handed it over, making sure that the lock was set right before straightening up to face me, “they’re just practice drawings.”

“Still though,” all that pain and effort, gone and wasted because of my stupidity.

He chuckled then and I looked up at him, quite surprised at the grin tugging at his lips, “honestly, it’s fine. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

I nodded and decided to drop the subject, wondering how it was possible to feel even sorrier for myself when I thought I had already hit rock bottom. We walked up the station staircase together in silence, which I would’ve probably found awkward if not for the fact that I was mentally beating myself up for acting so foolishly. He must’ve noticed the tired lines of my face, for his voice rang out in the silence as he stepped out into the street:

“Hey, if you still feel bad about the papers, don’t,” he stopped, gazing down at my form with what I hoped to be a reassuring smile, “it would’ve been another story though, if these were my finals.”

I flinched, though I forced a faint smile back, “okay. I’m sorry. Again. Please don’t curse me to death or anything,” an idea popped into my head, “are you heading home right now?”

“Uh—yeah. Why?”

“Please…let me buy you a drink. Coffee? Iced tea? I just—“ my fingers were already scrambling for some money, “please. I feel terrible about this.”

He cocked his head as an amused smile graced his lips, “wow, you really do feel bad.”

“I do. Please?”

And that was how we found ourselves sitting at a cheap plastic table outside the convenience store that night, huddled in our too-thick sweaters and blowing at our hands while holding our beers close. Conversation flowed naturally as we sat and breathed in the night air, allowing life to pause for a moment and enabling my brain to disentangle itself from overthinking too much. It was nice in a way, the distraction of having someone to talk to, just so that I didn’t have to wallow in my own self-pity.

I learnt that his name was Song Mingi, and that he had recently graduated from Art School with a dream to be a full-fledged artist. He had one cat that he’d named Kimchi and absolutely adored anime because of the art style and the unique story lines. I learnt that he was quite fluent in Japanese and loathed the subway as much as I did.

“Right now though, I’m working at a design company,” he took a sip of his beer, head tilting and side profile backlit by the fluorescent convenience store lights. He appeared softer, younger somehow, than his actual age.

“You like it?”

“Not really.”

I threw him a pointed look, “is that how you say no?”

“Alright. No,” he laid his chin in his palm, “I hate it. I feel like I’m wasting my time.”

“But it covers the bills.”

“Yup.”

“That sucks.”

“It does,” he took another hearty sip as I gazed down at my own drink. And here I was, jobless and with no ambition, no dream to chase. Because I was burnt out before even starting.

“And you?” he asked as I glanced back up into his eyes — gentle eyes, I found. He had very gentle eyes, eyes that seemed to know a lot more than what he let on, “what do you do in life?”

“I am unemployed,” the words sounded even more grim as they fell from my mouth, and I averted my eyes to the table to avoid his own out of embarrassment, “and I’m pretty sure I failed all the interviews I had this week.”

“What did you study?”

“Marine biology,” my throat felt rough, choked up with emotion as I thought of how ridiculous I must sound to this total stranger who was both talented and seemed to have his life together. Maybe it was insecurity that made me spit out, “don’t laugh.”

A pause, before he said, “why would I? That’s amazing.”

My eyes slid back up to his, “I—because…well…” and I couldn’t help myself from spilling it all out. How I came to this major because this was presumably the most passionate thing I’ve ever stumbled across in life, how I’d studied so hard not to fall behind when all my classmates seemed to pass their exams with flying colours, and how out of all of us in our year, I was the only one still roaming around like a lifeless soul while most of my peers had landed themselves some high-standing positions at big-shot NGO’s and companies focusing on Marine Environment protection and sustainability.

I didn’t realize that my eyes had filled with tears by the time I was done rambling about the fact that our planet was dying and nobody seemed to be interested in that fact whatsoever. Not until Mingi’s hand came into my peripheral and I blinked, catching sight of the napkin he was offering me.

“Thanks,” I murmured, voice small as I quickly wiped away my tears. My cheeks felt hot, flushed from a mixture of alcohol and from the way his eyes were intent on my face.

“I…” Mingi bit down onto his lower lip. He’d moved on to his second can by then, “I don’t know what to say. You’re…”

I waited for the insult. For him to laugh at my ridiculousness. Or maybe offer sympathetic words that were devoid of meaning.

“You’re amazing.”

I blinked. Once. Twice. Slowly, my eyes fluttered up to his.

“What?”

“All these things you’ve told me, they’re so…real. And I wish I could be more like you, you know?” he leaned back in his chair, “I’m always complaining that my life’s not good enough. That I don’t have purpose. These kinds of thoughts that make you question your existence. But then you come along and you tell me all these problems — real problems that should concern everyone around us — that make me open my eyes.”

Was this flattery? A compliment? I didn’t know how to take it, considering the fact that I’d basically laid out all my cards in front of this man who’d been a total stranger just a few hours ago.

He continued on despite my silence, “the world needs more people like you. Kind people, who really want to change the world for the better. Not because they want to prove something. But because it’s the right thing to do.”

My heart lurched in my chest. Stranger or no stranger, hearing that made some of the weight lift off my shoulders, even just a little. How stupid. How pathetic, that all I wanted to hear was to be praised and recognized by someone who I barely knew.

Nevertheless, it warmed me. The warmth of his tone as he gazed at me from across the cheap table. That was incomparable to an entire life filled with nothing but disappointment.

“I—“ a hollow chuckle escaped the back of my throat, “I don’t know what to say.”

He was the one to flush this time, “sorry, I didn’t mean to pry—“

“No no! Don’t say sorry,” I protested, eyes darting between him and the drink in my hand, “it’s—it’s refreshing, compared to what I’m used to hear.”

"Wah, I mean...I took art so I'm not one to talk."

I can't help but giggle, "so we're just a bunch of nerds. Bet you watch anime too."

"Don't get me started unless you want to stay here till four in the morning," he chuckled.

I wasn't really sure how to describe that night in particular. It felt like catching up with an old friend and yet, I barely knew this man. Somehow though, it seemed like he understood the pain that simmered in me, the feelings that I bottled up for all this time and it brought me comfort that someone else could empathize with the thoughts that pulled me down by the ankles every time I tried to swim.

Something had changed between us by the time he walked me back to the station that evening. What had started out as a coincidental meeting of two strangers had ebbed into the softest brushes of friendship. I was more than giddy to exchange numbers in hopes of meeting him again.

That night, I fell into a deep and soundless sleep. The best sleep I'd had in ages.

>>>

The third time I saw Song Mingi, we promised to change the world.

It started out as him inviting me over for his apparently out-of-this-world shrimp pasta, to which I'd scoffed and broke his heart by stating that I was vegetarian. But that had only fueled his desire to make me fall in love with his cuisine as he promised me the best alternative to that.

He'd bought wine for the occasion, had managed to secure the apartment all to himself that evening, and had even decorated the table with soft scented candles and matching plates that brought out the magical air of first dates.

That was enough to bring a smile to my lips and I had looked over my shoulfer at him in amusement, "aren't you a romantic?"

I swore I caught his flush even in the dim golden hues that bathed the room, though he answered back with a scoff, "I'm an artist. Of course I'm a romantic."

"I was friends with some art kids, back in uni," I said as I sat down at the table, Mingi following my movements as he placed the pot of pasta between us, "and I gotta say, I felt like they were more cyberpunk and dark than actual romantics."

"Yeah, even art kids have their own little gangs," he wrinkled his nose, "honestly, I was pretty normal. Didn't dye my hair, no piercings in my nose, no tattoos 'coz I hated needles. People would keep asking me if I was a design student."

"Wait--isn't that like, kind of the same thing though?"

"It's different in the way we approach the subject matter. But yeah, I don't get it either. Why can't I be an artist and a designer? I don't want to choose."

"Ah, let the existential crisis strike again."

We clinked glasses, gobbled up the pasta with vegan meat that he'd replaced -- with too much confidence bordering on arrogance, I might add -- and as we spoke, my attention couldn't help lingering over his works until at some point, Mingi had relented and gestured for me to grab his sketchbook.

And that had been a game changer. It had opened my eyes.

Sure, I'd seen his sketches when I'd caused his spill a few weeks ago. But at that time I was all too panicked to actually care what had been sprawled over the paper...until now.

"So you draw characters?" My mouth was practically hanging open as I constantly gazed at the array of faces sprawled before me. They were beautiful. Stunningly so. And haunted somehow, as if wrapped in narratives of their own.

"Yeah. I like faces. I like people." I heard the shyness in his alto as he stood next to me, hand going to scratch the back of his neck, "I think they all carry so many different stories."

And they did. Their eyes said something different within each and every scene. My heart tugged with emotions I couldn't quite decipher for myself as I pondered oveer his intent.

That was when the idea hit me.

"Mingi," I turned to him, "you said you wanted to tell stories?"

Raising a brow, he said, "yeah?"

"How comfortable are you with animated movies?"

"Hm. I did some modules back in college so I'm not unfamiliar with it. Why?"

"This is going to sound crazy okay?"

Alarm flashed through his features. He blinked, "okay."

"Let's make an animated movie. About the ocean."

>>>

And he said yes. Just like that.

He heard me out first, worked through all the logistics of how we were going to create something together that would bring to life a vision of a new world, a world that would bring life within the marine ecosystem. Our meetings were flexible, in-between scraps of time that we'd get either during his lunch time or during evenings where we'd get dinner and discuss. But while I was unsure of whether I'd pushed him before even asking him about it, I caught a glimpse of the twinkle in his eyes, and that had made me pause for a minute.

It was the look of pure love.

Love for life.

In all honesty, a little part of myself fell for Mingi there and then.

"I was thinking it to be more like a kid storybook," I told him from my place on his sofa, watching him at his tiny kitchen desk sketching out some panels, "so that it's got a light mood with dark undertones."

"Yeah, it'll be more effective that way," he murmured, brows stitched together and lips puckered. That expression took ten years off his age, "I was thinking maybe we need a protagonist. Maybe she's a mermaid or something. Has animals friends and lives in the corals--"

"And she watches as all the fishing destroys her home," I finished with barely restrained excitement, "and she falls in love with a fisherman who decides to help her out!"

Mingi's eyes lifted from his paper -- that must've been the first time in a full hour since he was so focused on the task at hand -- and locked on mine. A grin slowly spread across his face, "I like that. A lot."

There was something in his gaze that made me heat up, though I made an attempt to shrug and look away to avoid the heat slowly spreading through my limbs as if someone had suddenly turned up the temperature in the room.

My week followed with a few more interviews, most of which were unsuccessful. One of them seemed interested enough -- a Marine conservation company that focused on dolphins and whale protection -- but upon scheduling an official meeting with the manager, I couldn’t reel in the horror that struck me as soon as I stepped foot into the enclosure. The dolphins barely had any room to swim around, let alone the condition of the waters that were more of a murky green than health aquamarine blue. The animals themselves didn’t look too happy to be here and god knows one could understand, considering the circumstances and the fact that this pool was the size proportionate to a tuna can.

The cherry on top though, was definitely the orcas. Top fins flipped to the side and with only three left -- the information board stuck to the entrance stated that there were at least ten of them -- it definitely appeared more to be a morgue than a conservation area.

At this point, I couldn't stop the tears. Pain scratched through my chest before I swivelled around with barely restrained anger, "you--" my nostrils flared, jaw clenching, "that's--that's what you call keeping them safe?"

The manager's eyes narrowed, "With all due respect, we--"

"You're killing them!" I yelled out, unable to restrain myself, "this is called murder! And you call yourself a marine conservation? What is wrong with you!?"

Needless to say, I was kicked out a few seconds after that.

But the damage was done. My heart was aching, practically empty of anything else apart from the horror I had just witnessed unfold before my very eyes. If they had a good reputation and were treating their animals badly, how about the ones that didn't have any funding? The ones that had smaller acres and less manpower to help?

How many animals were they killing in the process?

Sure, not all of them were like that. But that was a bit slap in the face. By reality.

Mingi noticed my wallowing silence when he came over that night -- I had cooked vegan burgers for the occasion -- though I tried to hide it behind the pretence of tiredness and lack of sleep. He wasn’t convinced though, for as soon as we’d dumped our plates in the sink and collapsed onto my worn-out red couch with frayed fabric ends hanging from its sides, the first thing he uttered was:

“Did something happen?”

I looked up, surprised that he’d picked up on my nonverbal cues since I usually prided myself on always managing to keep my emotions in check whenever I was in the public eye.

Admittedly though, this was a feeling I had never felt before. This wretched, this broken-hearted. I had seen documentaries, countless videos of slaughter and poor conditions.

But this, this was something entirely out of its league. This was horrendous. I couldn’t understand how one could even do such a thing. How one could think of this as humane, as a service to those beautiful animals that never hurt anybody.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Mingi continued in a rush, “I didn’t mean to pry--”

“They barely have any space,” I cut him off, voice practically on edge as the sight of the dolphins flashed through the back of my lids, “they--they looked ill. Mingi, you should’ve seen them. They didn’t--they didn’t look like they were going to survive in there and, I--I couldn’t not do anything so--”

My tears had already gathered at the corner of my eyes and I buried my head into my arms so that he wouldn’t have to fall victim to my sobs. It surprised me, though, when his warmth came to wrap around my figure, hand pressing against the back of my head so that I was nestled into the crook of his neck.

The murmur scratched the back of my throat, “I’m sorry--”

“It’s okay,” Mingi’s soothing alto washed away the nervous thought that maybe he was doing it out of sympathy. Out of pity, even. But he sounded more comforting than uncomfortable, which made me cry even harder into his shoulder.

It might have sounded stupid to anyone else; crying about animals that still had a chance at life, crying because they were forced to be in cages that didn’t serve them any better purpose than leaving them out to sea as dead meat. But I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t help my heart, from the deep sorrow that washed through me every time I pictured those lifeless creatures -- usually so alive and vivacious and just amazing to be around -- just wallowing in the waters like a bunch of dead floating bodies.

This wasn’t about allowing them to live. This wasn’t about carving out a better future for these animals. This was merely about trying to build a good reputation, and feeding off all the money they received because of good samaritans that wanted to do good and yet, had no idea of what was going on behind the scenes.

It was horrifying. Heartbreaking. And I couldn’t stand by to watch them all fall to pieces, to be killed to extinction.

“It’s okay,” he shushed me when he heard my sobs get a little louder. One of his hands soothed down my back, stable and comforting. I tried breathing in and out, raggedly, but eventually slowly settling into small hiccups as the night wore on and the pain subsided.

How stupid. How embarrassing. What an idiot.

Those were the thoughts that circled my brain as soon as my consciousness cleared.

"My neighbour had a cattle field,” Mingi said a while later when we sat side by side, one of his hands still on my back and rubbing slow circles. I had grabbed a pillow, hugging it for comfort, “back when I was still a kid. I had to walk to the nearest bus stop because we were so far out. We didn’t have any buses coming our way. Whenever I passed by that farm though, I’d feel so helpless to see all these cattle, bunched up together. There was barely enough space for them to breathe, let alone move.”

I sniffled and wiped my nose, nodding at him to go on.

“So one day, oh god. You’re going to laugh,” he chuckled softly, rubbing his face with his other hand, “one day I decided-- you know what? They didn’t deserve to live like this. I felt sorry for them. And they were getting slaughtered. Every single day. I was so angry that I went over to the backyard fence that afternoon and just opened the gate.”

“You did what?” My eyes bulged out of their sockets.

Mingi burst out laughing, “I know, I was stupid. And I wasn’t thinking about how this was the man’s hard work you know. It was what paid the bills. But I was naive and I just really wanted to help the cattle. So I set them free,” His laughter dimmed into chuckles, “all fifty-five of them.”

“Holy shit Mingi,” my mouth formed an ‘O’, “you’re crazy!” I started cackling, imagining a younger version of Mingi storming up to the fence with that same determined glint in his eye. I’d definitely done some crazy things back when I was still a child. But this one was unheard of.

He joined in and soon enough, we were laughing our heads off for god knows whatever reason. All I knew was that the ache in my heart had dissolved into a tiny stub the size of a burnt-out cigarette and my stomach now hurt from too much laughing.

“Don’t worry Y/N,” Mingi smiled down at me, those feline eyes soft and the curve of his full lips lighting up his features, “if they can’t see the wrong they’re doing now, then our project will.”

Right then and there, I believed him.

>>>>

I fell in love with Song Mingi the same way I fell in love with the sea.

I was not, until I was.

And when the realization hit me, I was in a little too deep to retract my footsteps.

Maybe it was in his gentle demeanour. Something I wasn't used to in guys. But Mingi had a sensitivity to him, a way with human emotions that made it easy to communicate. He was soft and kind and so open to everything and anything I said. He had a stubborn streak, but mostly for things that concerned his self-worth. And I hated how he couldn't admire his talent the same way I did.

But that was the thing with artists right? They always shied away from the limelight, let their works of art speak in their stead.

And what I loved the most about Mingi, was the fact that he listened. He actually took the time to listen and remember the things I said. It might have been little, insignificant. But it wasn't for me.

"Y/N! Guess what I brought for you!" He hollered one particular Wednesday night after work. He practically lived here, for his things were already sprawled onto the kitchen table from last night, and the night before.

"A donut? A latte? A pizza?" I called back while stirring the red bean stew as a quick dinner. The lack of response caused me to turn around, only to be faced with a bunch of red roses. I yelped in surprise, "what the-- what's this for?!"

My face heated up on its own accord as Mingi laughed and said, "Happy International Women's Day."

"What?" I blinked in shock, my curry now forgotten on the stove, "you mean, happy valentines?"

"Nope. No mistake. Today's International Women's Day," he grinned, "so here you go, a bouquet of roses to one of the strongest women I know.”

My face explode with heat and if it weren’t for me averting my head and hiding my face amidst the roses that tickled my nose, he would’ve guessed the way my heart beat for him. Too fast for it to be normal.

Another time, we’d been hanging out by the Han River sloppily eating our way through ice cream in zero degree weather and he hadn’t hesitated to give me his hoodie when he’d noticed the raw redness of my hands, the sniffles coming from my nose.

“You’re cold,” he’d stated with a small tut of disapproval. I protested with a shake of my head, but it had been no use. He was already pulling his coat off and not a second later, his hoodie was flung onto my face.

“Ow,” I mumbled as I maneuvered my hands through the sleeves, chest warming at his kind action. Mingi was a sweetheart, no doubt. And I really needed to stop crushing on him. He, however, did not make it so easy.

“Thanks,” I glanced back at him after stuffing my hands into his hoodie pockets. It smelled just like him, as if Mingi himself was wrapping me in his arms. The thought made my heart melt, “you didn’t have to, you know. I’m tougher than I look.”

“Sure, Y/N. You look like you could fly away if I pushed you too hard,” he reached over to ruffle my hair and I’d pouted then before jabbing playfully at his shoulder.

The more I spent time in Mingi’s flat, the more I got to know of his entourage, met his friends and saw how they genuinely cared for the said young man. In return, he met mine and it had become a habit to drag him along wherever I went and vice versa. So much so that it elicited a few curious glances and poignant questions that I tried avoiding at all costs for fear that they’d find out my true feelings.

“Mingi’s never been an outgoing kid,” Hongjoong said -- he was one of Mingi’s older childhood friends and they’d known each other all their lives -- during one of the evenings when the boys had crashed into Mingi’s living room and the flat had turned into a Mario Kart competition. Much to the displeasure of Mingi’s flatmates.

“Huh, that’s something I can’t quite picture,” I replied, gaze trailing back to Minig’s face as he yelled and high-fived Jongho and San. A series of groans echoed from the opposing team.

“Yeah, he’s grown out a lot more since university,” Hongjoong took a sip of his beer, “he does gets quite emotional from time to time. That’s why I worry about him so much. He’s sensitive.”

“I guess all artists are, in a sense.”

The man nodded, “yeah, but he’s been a lot brighter. Ever since you two started that project.”

I tried not to show that I was slowly becoming a blushing mess but it was hard to keep my feelings in check when Hongjoong’s eyes were piercing on my own, suddenly alert and filled with an intensity that made me want to squirm.

“You like him?”

The words were like icy shards. I froze.

I couldn’t keep the surprise from my face when I turned to face Hongjoong. My mouth suddenly felt as dry as sandpaper.

“Mingi’s fragile. If you’re gonna play him, I suggest you don’t.”

“I’m not--” the words ached as they escaped my voicebox, “I’m not playing him.”

“Then please, take care of him. He doesn’t show how weaknesses to everyone. But he has a habit of overworking himself, especially when it comes to pleasing others,” Hongjoong shot me a look.

My mouth reacted before my brain did. I blurted out, “why are you telling me this?”

And there was that look in Hongjoong’s eyes; the dark softeness filled with affection for the said young man that reminded me of that of a father’s. When he spoke next, his words were barely above a murmur, “because he cares about you, a lot. And I don’t want him to get disappointed.”

I wasn’t sure whether to take that as an insult or a compliment. Hongjoong’s words bordered on threatening, though I knew that it wasn’t the case. He was just doing his job after all; looking out for Mingi. But if he thought, for one moment, that I would go out of my way to hurt the latter, then that statement was proven wrong the moment I realized my heart beat for him.

As the coldness of spring melted away with the warmth of summer, sakuras went into full bloom and more and more people gathered outside to take pictures, couples strolling hand in hand while enjoying street snacks that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Empty streets suddenly turned bustling, just like our current storyboard coming to life.

“I don’t get it though. Why does the fisherman do that when he knows he’s going to go jobless when he exposes the fishing industry?” Mingi asked one night while we watched the animation roll by in comfortable silence. The frames were almost done at this point, with only the ending to wrap it all up and the music to be added in the background.

I leaned against his desk table, slightly curving of his sitting form, “because he loves the mermaid,” I went straight to the point, not realizing that my voice had dropped to a whisper until Mingi turned in my direction.

“He loves the mermaid just enough that he’s willing to sacrifice all of that?”

It sounded dumb when he put it so simply. So I shrugged, “people do stupid things in the name of love.”

A slight pause as my words buzzed through the air.

"Would you?” He spoke up,” do that?”

My eyes dropped to his face. The depth of his orbs reflected in the dim light of his room had my heart shaking and impulsively, my hand went to fist onto my jumper sleeve. Just enough to keep me grounded.

“What--” I swallowed thickly, “do you mean?”

A few beats of silence ensued. Our eyes locked.

“Would you give all that up for the one you love?”

I kept my eyes on his even as heat littered through my cheeks, “yeah,” I bit my lip, “yeah I would. Probably.”

Something flashed in his eyes then. Something different, darker than what I was used to seeing. A silent breath escaped my lips. Electricity curled through the air, buzzing in-between us.

I didn’t dare breathe. Didn’t dare look away.

Mingi’s eyes traced my every feature, gaze flickering to my mouth.

My lips parted on their own accord and he must’ve heard me, for his eyes flickered straight back up to mine and-- had his eyes always been this intense? This beautiful?

His hand suddenly fluttered over my arm. He tugged.

I stumbled into him.

And then his lips were pressing onto my cheek. Softly. A little shy. Breaths warm where his mouth hovered right upon my skin that burned as butterflies suddenly exploded through my stomach. A gasp died in the back of my throat and as I gazed down at him in growing surprise at his stroke of boldness, I saw his eyes widen in realization of what he'd done.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get into your space--" his scrambled murmur died when I shook my head to silence him, a slow smile spreading across my lips. I didn't know what to say though, what to do.

I finally found my voice after a while, "what...was that for?" I asked, tentative.

Mingi's head ducked shyly, hand going up to rub at his neck while avoiding my gaze like the plague, "I don't know," he admitted, "I just--I wanted to cheer you up. I guess?"

"You guess?"

His orbs flickered to mine, "don't make fun of me," he sounded like a child and a giggle erupted from my mouth, "I'm not. Just making sure what your intentions were."

I almost missed him murmuring out, "even I'm not sure."

That shut me up. I blinked at him.

"You looked sad," he looked away, "I don't like seeing you sad."

Was that a confession? Or was it just me being overdramatic?

I didn't bother responding out of fear that flat-out rejection was waiting for me just behind the door that broke the boundary between friendship and romance. I moved away and his arms dropped, clearly sensing that something had changed in my demeanour. For the rest of the night, we didn't address the issue, made it out to have been an accident, a small 'slip' if you will. In truth, I was a coward. Couldn't muster the courage to spill out the weight that was heavy on my heart and would rather lock up my feelings away, push them at the far end of my mind.

Maybe it was for the best. We were partners only for this project.

After that, who knows when I'd be seeing him again?

>>>

The day our story came to life was the day I almost told Mingi how I felt about him.

"It's done."

My brain couldn't process what my eyes saw. The animation kept on rolling forward and repeating itself, the melody becoming a numb buzzing background noise as the roaring excitement flooded through my veins, my heart beating so loudly I feared its sound echoed through the room.

Mingi sat next to me at his swivelling desk chair, chin on his palm and eyes glancing between me and the computer screen.

Ever since that night, there had been a weird tension every time we looked at each other for too long. It felt like an itch under my skin I couldn't quite reach, something that made me want to squirm restlessly.

"That..." my throat went dry. It was beautiful. The shading, the fluidity of the storytelling. Everything. "It's..." I struggled to find my voice.

It was beautiful.

"It's beautiful."

Choking up on the wave of emotion crashing through me, I couldn't restrain the sob echoing through the back of my throat and turning away from the young artist to hide the tears welling in the corner of my eyes, I jumped when a warmth ghosted over the back of my elbow.

"You okay?" Mingi's alto rang deep. He'd risen from his chair and it took me aback to see how tall he actually was. I barely reached his throat.

I nodded, fervently wiping the tears away, "I'm fine. Just-- it's hard to watch."

"Yeah," his features softened, "it was hard to draw."

If I was an emotional wreck, I couldn't imagine how hard he must have struggled throughout the whole thing. My body reacted before my brain did, arms flinging themselves around Mingi's neck as I heard him stutter out with embarrassment.

Burying my face into his chest, my body melted into his scent of soft men shampoo followed by a citrus aftertaste. His figure stiffened for a few seconds, before his arms slowly laced around my middle with a hesitance that made my heart flutter to my throat.

"Thank you," came my muffled mumble, "thank you, for doing this."

A small noise of approval rumbled through his chest, palms smoothing over my back in a manner so soothing it makes my limbs turn to mush.

We headed out to buy some tteokbeokki straight from the street vendor later that night along with some pizza to honour our success -- or more precisely, Mingi's success since he was the one doing the majority of hard work -- and as we settled ourselves on a bench in a nearby park of the neighbourhood, I looked up at the night sky with a soft sigh, knowing that after this night, my chances of seeing Mingi would be slim to none.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see him. It was more because he probably had a life of his own, a life he wanted back. He had friends that cared for him, had a stable job he needed to dive back into. He didn't have as much free time as I did.

Something like a jagged rock cut through my chest at the thought. I wasn't going to life; it hurt to know that Mingi's face wouldn't be a regular in my daily schedule.

But he'd done his part. The rest -- figuring out how to pitch that project to our sponsors -- was up to me.

"Have you made a list of who you're going to pitch it to?" Mingi's voice drew me back to reality and I blinked up at him, catching sight of the beer he held out in his hand.

I took it gratefully, cracking it open and taking a huge sip. The liquid felt good sliding down my throat, the familiar sensation of alcohol warming up my stomach.

"I have a few names in mind," the night breeze was cool as it washed against my features that seemed permanently doused in embarrassment, "I might try and pitch it directly to the National Ocean Board*. Though apparently, you need like a contact to get to the organization itself so I'll have to figure that out."

He hummed in agreement, "the hardest part's yet to come."

"No," my eyes swiped up to his, hating how easily he pushed aside his efforts, "you did everything, Mingi. I--I'm really grateful. I don't know how to thank you."

"You came up with the idea. You're the one who wrote the entire storyboard," he shrugged as he took a sip of his own beer. I tried not to stare too long at the bobbing of his adam's apple -- he looked so fine. There was no doubt about that. Even in his casual hoodie and training slacks decked in shades of black and grey, there was no denying that he had the charm and the aura of a model itself.

"I'm just the one who knows how to draw," he continued in an easy tone, which made me snap, "that's not true and you know it," my eyes narrowed, hands clenching a little harder on my can, "you can draw, sure. Anyone can draw, or learn how to anyway. But you can tell stories and trust me when I tell you this-- not everyone can," I shook my head, "not in the way that you do, anyway. It's magical, it makes you dream, it makes you think that maybe--" the words caught in the back of my throat as I swallowed thickly, "maybe there's still a little bit of hope left."

A soft pause ensued. The crickets chirped in the distance paired with the distant hum of cicadas. I kept my eyes glued to his, insistently trying to prove my point as we kept our gazes locked for a few seconds too long. And then, his features softened and his face broke into a soft smile.

A small that took my breath away.

He reached up so suddenly that I didn't have time to register the fact that his hand came to a rest upon my head. He ruffled my hair, in a manner so gentle that I stopped breathing for a full minute.

"Thank you," his murmur washed against my face, breaths tingling my cheeks and causing a splatter of warm peony to rise through the back of my neck.

I wished to believe it was the alcohol.

"No need to thank me," was the only thing I could mumble back, if only to hide how scrambled up my brain had become.

"You'll let me know, right?" Mingi allowed his hand to linger for a few drawn out seconds, before he dropped his arm and took another sip of his beer, "if ever we get a breakthrough."

"Of course I will. What sort of question is that?"

"I don't know. In case you decide to run away without any credits to the artist," he flashed me a teasing smile and I shoved his shoulder in response, "thanks for having absolutely no faith in me."

He laughed, "I'm joking."

"Oh, you're not. You're actually really serious about me stealing your work aren't you?"

"What? Of course not Y/N! Who do you take me for?"

"Who do you take me for?!" I huffled out playfully, " asking me these stupid questions--hey!"

I didn't have time to defend myself when he suddenly pounced onto me, fingers finding my weak points right underneath my armpits. I squealed, bursts of laughter and cries of protests falling from my lips as his hands scrabbled against my sides in an attempt to make me pay for my earlier comments.

"Mingi! Stop it--" I choked on my own laughter, hands failing to find purchase to push him away as he continued his attack without mercy, "that's for using me!" he gloated.

My beer caner spilled over the ground halfway through our playful fight and it wasn't until I managed to grip his wrists that I realized our provocative position; Mingi's body was hovering over mine that had toppled onto the bench, back pressed against the cool metal as I gazed up, transfixed, into those gorgeous feline orbs glinting in the dark light of the park.

The playful air stilled in light of the realization dawning upon me; that he was so close I could kiss him if I wanted to. His lips were mere inches. Would he straight-out reject me if I attempted to bring him closer? Those sinfully rose-tinted lips that looked plush and inviting-- my heart fluttered to my throat just thinking about it.

No.

Don't do it. Don't ruin what you have, a small voice echoed in the back of my mind.

Mingi, maybe upon noticing the change in my demeanor, slowly pulled back and pulled me along with him so that I straightened up. His head tipped down to the spilled beer cans at our feet, and chuckled.

"Well, that's a waste," he commented lightly, as if we hadn't just engaged in something a little more intimate than interesting conversation, and that made my heart sink a little.

"Sure is," I avoided his eyes at all costs, kept my gaze lowered in case he caught a glimpse of what he shouldn't be seeing in the first place.

The words were lingering on the edge of my lips the whole night, deliberately playing back and forth between what was best for us right now, at this particular moment. And if Mingi noticed, he didn't comment on it, though from the way his eyes would find mine in concern every time a silence lasted for too long, I suppose he suspected that there was something a little more that was bothering the depths of my heart even though I forced plastic smiles over my face and pushed my eyes into crinkles to mimic my usual happiness.

My lips held onto a bitter aftertaste when he said our goodbyes that night, as I held onto his sweater a little longer than usual, numb from the cold and the things that clogged up the back of my throat.

It tasted sour.

I love you.

>>>

Y/N: They said they would sponsor it.

My fingers shook with every key tapped onto my phone, brown orbs glued to the screen as I awaited for Mingi's reply. He was online, I had seen his status a few minutes ago before I mustered up the courage to tell him the great news that would've once made me ecstatic, would have me jumping around in joy and barely restrained excitement at the thought that my voice, our voices, were finally being heard after months of toiling and searching and begging and being thrown out of doors.

After that particular night where we'd celebrated our win, I'd been trying my best to avoid the said man when possible. It wasn't that I didn't want to see him. On the contrary, I had to physically dig my nails into my palm so as not to dial his number every evening when the silence, the overbearing numb emptiness, became too much to bear. But I didn't want to overwhelm him, not if he didn't want anything to do with me.

He never took the step forward to contact me first. I guessed that this was my answer.

Instead of pondering over what could have been, I decided to delve deep into my search for sponsors. Easier said than done though, considering that there were numerous marine protection companies that were using greenwashing for their customer market and blatantly refused to take part in such a 'horrendous, misleading act' as they called it. To fund myself for the time-being, I was grateful enough to get a job as a cashier in a Pet Shop from across the street from my apartment. It wasn't much, but it paid the bills and I was able to spend as much time with animals instead of human beings. Life seemed to crawl by at a slow snail's pace for some time, going through the ministrations of life and falling in a routine of going to work, calling companies and sponsors during my lunch break, gong back to work, then getting home and trying once more to search up other kinds of sponsors in hopes that they'd give me the time of the day.

It wasn't until a few months later that a small company in the outskirts of Seoul reached out to me. They introduced themselves as a branch of a bigger Western umbrella and after running a background check, I counted them as credible and accepted an interview.

Which led to the current situation.

My phone buzzed. Screen flashing: Mingi is calling.

My brain backtracked. Huh?

Fingers shaking, I almost missed the green icon before pressing the device to my ear.

"Hey."

"They accepted it?!"

A smile instinctively hitched my lips upwards, "yes," I murmured, breathless. Then, said it a little louder, "yes!"

Mingi laughed, "oh my god! They accepted it!"

I couldn't help but laugh along with him. His effect on me was incredible, lit me up on the inside and for a second I wished I could get a glimpse of his face.

I suggested that we meet up at a nearby café to discuss the details, which was weird, considering that it had been a few weeks since I last saw his face. I couldn't blame him, for he'd been having a tougher time at work and I was burnt out. Coupling that with our lack of communication and you got a friendship that was slowly fraying at the ends.

I forced my heart to mentally put out a front so as not to jump on him the moment I caught sight of his face. But that didn't prove necessary, for the moment I stepped into the quaint coffee shop filled with the mixed scent of books and fresh espresso Mingi was already wrapping me up in a huge bear hug, so tight I could barely breathe, overwhelmed by the familiar scent of his shampoo.

"It's been awhile," he grinned, pulling back to gaze down at me and I swore I felt my chest tighten at the softness swirling through his dark pupils. Everything, every emotion came rushing back like a tidal wave.

"It has," I managed to cough up despite the fact that my heartstrings seemed to be dancing around in-between my lungs. Just tell him already! "You look good, Mingi. Better than the last time we met."

"That's because we managed to finish our project before the deadline," he grinned as he tugged me over to his table. I took note of the worn-out black edge of his sketchbook peeking out of his backpack and had to smile. Typical of him, to be carrying out of his sketchbook even now that he barely had no time for his personal art.

We caught up on each other's lives and about the specifics of the sponsor. They were willing to advertise it on their social medias, their websites, as well as present it to the National Ocean Cleanup Day that was soon approaching, which was an opportunity for all aspiring artists and storytellers to present their art in hopes that it would be seen by an influential eye. Every commission would be ours and they'd only take 5% commission for their advertisement, a pretty good deal considering their reputation.

"I still can't believe they want to advertise it," he raked a hand through his dark locks. They seemed to have grown a little since then, "It feels surreal."

"It'll be a good opportunity for you too," I smiled back, "to get yourself known as an artist."

"Oh actually, there's something I haven't told you yet."

Leaning forward in my seat, my eyebrow rose in curiosity, "spill."

"Well, I'm actually quitting my job next month."

I blinked, "wha--wait, really? Did you get another job?"

He shook his head at that before his smile broadened, "nah. I'm not about that life anymore. I want to do what I really want," pausing slightly as hesitation flashed through his features, I offered him a reassuring smile, "I'm going to be a full-time artist."

My mouth dropped open in surprise, eyes widening, "Oh my god--No! You're kidding?!" and when he shook his head once more with that knowing smile I knew too well, my hands shot up instantly to grab at his with barely restrained excitement, "I'm so proud of you, Mingi! What--How did you--What have you planned?!"

"I haven't really planned anything yet," though his tone was unsure, there was no denying the full-out grin on his face, "but I've been gathering a bunch of my sketches. They all follow the same theme so I might just go with that."

"That's amazing!" I couldn't believe it. Tears were filling my eyes, "what concept are you going for?!"

And that was when his gaze locked onto mine.

"The sea."

I probably looked like an idiot. Staring at him like he'd grown another pair of eyes and not really comprehending his words for the first few seconds they settled into my brain.

That was when it hit me.

I gasped.

"W--Why?" was the only thing I managed to stutter out.

Though there seemed to be a layer of pink dusted across his cheeks, Mingi answered confidently, "because of you."

I gulped.

"I got inspired, kind of," his head dipped down, dark pupils lowering to the table as if he was too embarrassed to meet my gaze, "I couldn't understand how someone could be as passionate. I--I live in my head most of the time, never really notice all of these outside problems. And it's bad. I know it is.” His eyes fluttered up to mine and I lost breath at the intensity present in them. They swirled with a gentleness that was seldom present, a vulnerable sheen of maroon reflecting in the depths of his dark irises and yet, so intense at the same time that I flushed right down to my feet.

“But you don’t. You live to make the world better and I—I wish I was more like that. I want to be more like that. Because these things matter just as much as what I want to show inside my head,” he paused, hesitating for a few beats of silence before continuing, “when you first told me about the animation, I was—I’m not going to lie to you—I was scared, that I wouldn’t be able to fulfill your expectations. That I didn’t have that in me,” his hands, which had unknowingly turned to grasp mine, slowly interlocked his fingers with my own, “but I’ve never seen someone look at me the way you do.”

“How…” my words trailed off as I struggled to form a cohesive sentence, “how did I look at you?”

“Like you believed in me.”

Tears suddenly pricked at the corner of my eyes. Because he was right. I had had so much faith in Mingi that I lost my own. I had no purpose, while he did. He was so overwhelmingly talented at what he did that I wished I was more like him.

And all along, he was admiring me for doing whatever the hell I wanted.

“I—“ I tried turning my head, hid it in my sleeve so he wouldn’t see the tears brimming in my eyes, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Hm, I guess you can say ‘thanks Mingi, for seeing me as your role model’ or ‘hey that’s cool. I actually inspired someone’. Something along these lines,” he grinned as one of his hands released mine to cup my chin. Turning my face towards his once more before brushing the tears away, he murmured, “why are you crying?”

I sniffled, “because that’s the most wonderful thing someone’s ever said to me and I can’t help but love you even more—“

The words had bubbled out without warning and instantly my mouth clamped itself shut. I stared at Mingi’s shocked expression, looked back down at the cracks on the veneered table before me, and tried withdrawing my hands from his grasp.

Except, he didn’t allow me to.

“What…did you say?” his voice had dropped even lower. My heart jumped to my throat, nerves suddenly jittery, “you…love me?”

I tried chuckling, though I sounded more like a dying animal, “of a sort. You know, like a friend loves another fri—“

His pointed look shut me up and I brought my eyes back to the table. How embarrassing. How stupid. What an idiot. You’re such an idiot! My mind kept on screaming over and over and over again.

“Y/N.”

I didn’t dare look up, for fear of seeing someone I shouldn’t. For fear that one glance might break my heart into little pieces without warning.

He squeezed my fingers as a sign. His hand tilted my chin up to his. My gaze insistently glued itself to the crack running along the table’s edge.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

No. My heart screamed out. No, this is all wrong. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Fine then. You give me no other choice,” he sighed in what sounded to be exasperation and before I knew what was happening, I felt the softest touch of blossoming warmth over my knuckles. Eyes shooting up with a silent gasp, they went straight to Mingi’s as I took in the way his lips were brushing against the back of my hand.

To say that I was combusting like wildfire would be an understatement.

“Does that answer your question?” he whispered.

“Uhm…no.”

His gaze darkened. My stomach churned.

“I love you.”

I swear I could’ve burst out crying then and there.

“You—“ my throat was dry. Hearing myself say them sounded pathetic, borderline ridiculous. Hearing it fall from his mouth though…that was exhilarating. Magical, “You…love me?”

When he nodded, fresh tears welled up in my eyes. Mingi couldn’t help but chuckle then, reaching over to wipe at my cheek, “why are you crying?” he sounded amused.

“I don’t know,” I blubbered back, “because I thought you’d say sorry and tell me we’d never be able to meet again and I don’t know how I was going to live if that was the case—“

“I don’t think I’d be that drastic, Y/N,” bringing my hands up once more, he allowed his lips to brush against my knuckles, the mere action comforting me, “I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Pretty obvious? Jesus Mingi. I can’t read you. You’re not obvious at all!”

“But what about that kiss on the cheek I gave you that time?!” He pouted, “that must’ve counted for something!”

“Well you didn’t do anything else after that so how was I supposed to know?”

“I thought that you were disgusted when you didn’t respond because you didn't like me that way,” his pout deepened and I laughed at how childish he looked. A grown young man who was on the brink of a breakthrough in his career, acting like he was merely a five year old child, “how was I supposed to know then?”

I bit my lip to stop the grin from spreading over my face. I failed, smiling so wide my face practically broke in two, “you’re kinda cute when you’re mad.”

Huffing and muttering some in-comprehensive words under his breath, he tightened his grip on my hands and lifted them to press against his cheek, where his face mellowed out into that soft, crooked smile that turned his eyes into half-moons, “so does this mean we’re dating?”

“Well that’s kind of bold of you, considering you didn’t ask me,” I tried keeping a nonchalant air, only to burst into a fit of giggles as the said man threw me a horrified look, “but I literally poured my heart out!”

“I’m joking you big baby,” I ruffled his hair for good measure and though he grunted, there was no denying that the grin on his face was a permanent one. It made a series of butterflies flutter in my stomach and biting my lip to keep myself from giggling like a silly schoolgirl, I felt the slightest tremors of happiness that sounded like my heart cartwheeling in my chest.

Mingi accompanied me home that night, not hesitating to slip a hand into mine and intertwining our fingers throughout the whole train ride. We probably looked like a pair of idiots, smiling so wide at nothing at all that it wasn’t surprising if we scared off a few passerby’s. As we walked up the street towards my flat, we chatted about nothing and anything at all and somehow, I felt a sense of peace that hadn’t been there ever since our project was completed. As though all the puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place and now actually made sense.

It was calm inside my heart, inside my mind. The turmoil of waves that always seemed to brush a little too close to my sanity were now reduced to nothing, giving way to the calm sandy beach hidden below.

“That was a little too short for my liking,” Mingi’s statement caused me to blink back to reality and the fact that we’d already arrived at my doorstep made my excitement drop to disappointment in my stomach.

I turned to him nevertheless, graced with that soft smile that rendered me weak and made my throat clog up with unspoken emotion, “well, thanks for walking me back home,” my hands knotted themselves together, a habit of mine whenever I felt the nervousness take over.

“You don’t have to thank me, you know,” he flashed his pearly whites.

I turned away, feeling my cheeks warm up before Mingi gently grasped the back of my elbow. Tugging me close so that I stumbled into his chest, his hand was hesitant as it fluttered over my face, hovering a little distance away from my cheek before he mustered up the courage to cradle it in his hold. His other arm wound around my waist to pull me a little closer still and I would’ve lied to say that I was completely rational at this point in time.

My sanity had practically flown out of the window back then. Only leaving Mingi and his warmth in its wake.

His brown orbs held mine for the briefest of moments, as if asking me in silent permission whether he was allowed to take this step forward that would change our relationship forever.

So I did it for him. Pressed up on my tiptoes and claimed his lips.

Just like he’d claimed my heart.

The stifled yelp muffled at the back of his throat was one of surprise as I slanted my mouth against his and slowly, but hesitantly, moved my lips in a dance I’d hope he wouldn’t find to his dislike. But I was worrying for nothing, for a growl rumbled through his chest instead and he kissed me back with barely restrained vigour, hands pressing me close to his chest so that I gasped into his mouth. He took that to his advantage, tongue darting out to meet mine and drawing out a soft moan from my voicebox.

We parted for air after what seemed like forever, and that was when he pressed his forehead against mine with a tender, crooked smile that made me want to slap myself for wondering whether this was actually happening, that this was real.

“So,” his murmur washed over my face, nose bumping into mine, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Depends,” I shot back with a smile of my own, “Is it a date?”

“What do you mean?” he whined, “of course it’s a date.”

Laughing and pecking his cheek once, twice, three times until he turned his head to capture my lips with his, I pulled away with a breathless grin, pretty sure that I looked like a complete idiot with butterflies practically roaring through the entirety of my abdomen, “then sure, I’d love that.”

I didn’t know anything about what would happen to our small animation once it would be aired. There was a slight apprehension prickling at the back of my mind every time I thought about it, but somehow all this was overshadowed by the abundance of joy swelling through my chest every time I caught a glimpse of Mingi’s face, knowing that he was mine and that he believed in me, even if the rest of the world didn’t.

And that in the end, it would be okay.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez mingi #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #choi san #ateez fanfiction #mingi angst #ateez angst #hongjoong #ateez wooyoung #song mingi fanfic #song mingi x reader #time capsule #utopia #collab

[popculturebuffet]

Don Rosa: “The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros!” or City Slickers 3: The Crystal City

Saludos Amigos, the Ride of the Three Caballeros returns! After some time off to take care of other seasonal commissions and to finally get the life and times fo scrooge mcduck back on a steady pace, everyone’s three favorite chappies in snappy serapes are back for another go round.  This time i’ts back to comics one last time as we take a look at “The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros: which was the penultimate story from Duck Maestro Don Rosa, and as a result the final one set in present day, as while the next one would have a wraparound segment, it’s a flashback tiding up the one last bit of Scrooge’s past Rosa hadn’t clicked into place yet, and thus we’ll get to that eventually as part of life and times. And honestly it serves as a fittng and satisfying conclusion to Donald’s story. 

The geneisis of this one is rather simple in comparison to “The Three Caballeros Ride Again!”. Don Rosa REALLY enjoyed writing TTCRA, wanted to have another adventure with Donaldo and his boys, and given the previous story was a huge hit likely had no trouble convincing his publisher. And since he set the first story in Panchito’s home country of mexico, it only made sense to have the next story in Jose’s home country of Brazil. Adding to it Rosa specifically wanted to avoid using the amazon rainforest this go round, as to him pretty much every story involving Brazil focused on the massive and wonderful rainforest. And while a great setting, Rosa knew there was much more to the country and wanted to show it off. And to his credit.. he’s 100% right as i’ve seen dozens upon dozens of stories set in the rainforest but not nearly as many set ANYWHERE ELSE IN BRAZIL. If their lucky we get to see Rio, but that’s about it. So kudos to Rosa for wanting to display more of a beautiful country and show it had more to offer than merely it’s biggest attraction. As for what treasure they’d be after, the lost city of crystal stuck out to him, having been described in a goverment document that was so degraded when it was found there wasn’t much left to go on and searched for by a famous explorer who was the basis for indiana jones whose name I forgot but we’ll run into his name again later. So yeah not as much setup here and what tiny bit is left can be covered when we get to our villian. So with all that out of the way, let’s ride on!

We open with Scrooge firing Donald and throwing his ass out on the street, berating him for screwing up and then telling him to be back early tommorow to make up for his firing. Then Gladstone literally walks all over him becausae he’s a jackass, and Daisy then shrieks at donald for you know, being stuck on the floor, having messed up the shirt she ironed for him without.. actually you know asking for context, HITTING HIM, then telling him to pick her up for dinner at the ritz. 

It’s like this intro was perfectly designed in a lab to piss me off. All three of the characters who on a good day ar excellent but on a bad are outright monsters, at their worst, treating Donald like crap, i.e. the reason to call them monsters, and generally abusing him for flimsy reasons. And again Daisy HIT DONALD. No that’s not right, she shoryukened his ass! She upercutted him! God damn. And her just casually doing that is played for laughs. In a lesser Rosa story this would only get worst and be “oh haw haw”.. instead... to my delighted suprise.. this is all treated seriously. Yeah really. Instead of being treated for laughs like normal, and not being a dark enough work comedically to make it work like say It’s Always Sunny, Donald is seriously depressed, beaten down phsycially and mentlaly and when the boys, who’ve been present for all of this and tried to help him up off the ground, ask why he takes this.. the answer is pretty damn bleak. 

Just.. holy shit that’s dark.. and I applaud Rosa for not only recognizing this isn’t always funny, but for actually tackling it. And I will grant Donald being a butt monkey CAN be funny, especially when it’s caused by his own ego. It’s the basis of his entire career. It’s good stuff. My issue has been more that Rosa sometimes dosen’t get that either some aspects have aged poorly, even by the 90′s, and thus dosen’t adjust them or play them more for drama, sprinkling a bit of that in with the comedy. So to see him do that HERE, to acknowledge in some way his own faults and do something with them.. i’m very proud of him and it warms my heart that he could do something like this that shows he could grow and change, even SECONDS from the end of his career, but with no intention of ending his career at that point or even after finishing his next and last story. It just ended up happening that way and as such this story carries even more weight as for all intensive purposes, this is the final tale of Donald Duck for Don Rosa’s Barksian universe. This is the last big tale before whatever triggers Scrooge’s retirement, the last tale he wrote in the here and now. And while not perfect for some reasons we’ll get to from a character perspective? It’s a pretty good note to go out on. 

Anyways Donald somehow makes this SADDER by mentoing, when Huey, Dewey or Louie tries to make him smile that he hasn’t smiled in some time before sadly loping off to make their dinner before buying daisy’s. 

Yeah... I just.. I need a moment.... Here’s my asistant iwth an important message

Okay i’ve regained my composuer.. and yes I will be shwoing that off at every opportunity. I have generous friends. Now where were we? Ah yes with their uncle in a depression hole, can relate, they figure he needs a nice gift to get him out of it. The boys think he needs friends.. and of course the boys come to mind, though the fact their on the other end of the contient proves a problem.. but Huey, Dewey or Louie has a solution and takes the boys to the Woodchucks because of course they do> Their primary go to for anything is the guide which to be fair contains the entire sum of the world’s knowledge in a guidebook. 

So the boys, with the other two likely filled in on the way, plan becomes clear when they stop by Woodchuck HQ and talk to the guy in charge of the badge department, which ahs a fun acronym because of course it does, this is one of Rosa’s faviorite running gags and mine as well.. I just don’t have it in me stamina wise to type the whole thing out. Point is the boys ask that Donald be used as courier for a special shipment of badge’s to Rio. The authority guy is understandably a bit reluctant to give a non-woodchuck this duty, but the boys remind him that in a previous story, not sure if it’s barks or rosa’s, Donald apparently not only found the last remaning pieces of fort duckberg but saved them from the mill. As a result the Fort, which was the original HQ of the woodchucks until Scrooge threw them out, was apparently rebuilt. So the guy in charge is more than willing to not only give donald the duty, but an open ended plain ticket, i.e a vacation. The Nephews do have to guilt him a bit more to get donald a condsensed pamphlet based on the brazil chapter of the guidebook which at this point seems like overkill. Just.. buy him a guidebook boys. IT’s a bit much to ask that a portion of your heavily guarded and protected text be given to your uncle for a vacation and seems like a tad of a stretch but the gag, including the boys getting badges in guilt and convincing, makes it work. 

So after the boys set off to telegram the rest of the Cabs, we cut to donald arriving in rio, passing christ the redeemer on the way

The Rio Woodchucks greet donald and take the package for him, giving him new orders to go by cable car to the observation deck atop Sugar Loaf Mountain. This is a real mountain in Brazil and frustrated Rosa because he couldn’t find any pictures of what the station looked like in the 1950′s, despite as he put in his notes having eager fans from the region, researchers and other contacts try to find it, settling for having vintage cable cars pulling into modern stations he got from photos from said contacts. If I hadn’t said it before i’ll say it now the man is a BEAST when it comes to getting things acurate, only bending it if it helsp the story and still making sure his drawings are as accurate as possible. It’s one of Rosa’s most adimirable traits. 

Donald took a Donde, some form of streetcar there, hanging on the back and .. uh I have no words for this..

Donald Duck ran into a horse and it farted in his face. Just... why though. This horse naturally is Senior Marteniz, with Panchito currently being thrown out of a cable car for trying to put his horse in there which is fair. What isn’t is people having an issue with his hat. I mean.. people wear hats. I know it’s a bit big for the tight fit of the cable car but still it’s a bit weird to throw a strop about anywhere outside a theater or sports place where he’d be actively obstructing people’s view. And it appears to be the same weirdly crazy asshole.. Imean again the horse thing is resonable but calling it a “crazy hat” I mean yes it’s a big hat.. but ... you you do know mexico exists right? And sombreros? or other cultures at all you weirdly specific douche? 

At the top, after a quick and funny hat swap gag, Panchito reveals the triplets called him here.. as did Jose who assuemd it was  lovely senorita.. who uppercuts him. And it’s STILL more reasonable to uppercut some rando hitting on you, if not by much, than Daisy’s Domestic Abuse. Anyways the three put things together and Donald realizes via flashback the boys hoped his smile would return and said he’d have help. 

Donald, being utterly beaten down by life, apologizes.. but it turns out the boys needed this as much as he did. Jose’s night club career is flopping hard, with his agent unable to get him bookings and Panchito has barely scraped any money together for his ranch dream from last time. It’s a nice touch: That the boys , while having more exciting careers have just as much strife as Donald does and as much problem. It helps make them feel as real as donald, as characters with their own lives and adventures outside of him and their own wants and needs and it really helps the story come alive. Jose however has some suggestions to escape their blues. 

But Panchito suggests instead they go for some adventure and go diamond hunting in the plains of brazil, which the two agree to.. and Donald’s a big gung hoe about carving his way through human flesh.. just jesus man.. get a therapist. Your Ducktales counterpart did and he seems mildly well adjusted. So the adventure is on.. and they all toss their hats.. off a mountain. First thing on the provisoins list hats.  Before we head on I just wanted to point out even though most of my audience here is likely unaware the movie exists that this Comic honestly reminds me of the 1991 comedy City Slickers starring Billy Crystal, Daniel Stern and Bruno Kirby. If your struggling on the name Daniel Stern, think Marv from Home Alone. 

No.. the RIGHT marv. I may not be a huge fan of Home Alone but we respect Daniel sterns in this house. And yes if you didn’t know French Stewart played Marv in one of the sequels now you do. And i’m sorry you know that. 

There we go. Right Marv and Wrong Dad from Christmas story. Back on point City Slickers is a terrific comedy I finally saw a few weeks back about three friends all facing mid life crisises, with Billy Crystal being unsatisfied with his career and undsure WHY he does, Daniel Sterns having cheated on his shrewish wife with one of his employees whose also now pregnant, and Bruno Kirby being a ladies man whose faced with the prosepct of settling down, go for a weeks vacation to a cattle drive, as Brunos character tends to set up these trips but this time they actually need it. They encounter cows, assholes and a cowpoke named Curly. It’s pretty good. 

But yeah they both feel kinda similar, if with far less drama and crumbling marraiges on the cabs end because you know, this is for children. I’m pretty sure it’s just a concidence but given Rosa’s love of film, even if it’s more 30′s and 40′s films, and how the City Slickers seems right up his alley, I wouldn’t he suprised if he saw it and simply took some slight inspiration from it. Either way the similarity makes me giggle a bit. Again the plots aren’t all the same but the basic setup is about the same, complete with the main character’s family making sure he goes. It’s a bit of a stretch but I thought it was pointing out and while this review is comissioned, how I go about it isn’t so if I want to take a few paragraphs to compare this to an excellent comedy you should defintely see with two underated actors, maybe three i know nothing of bruno kirby other than the man had horse allergies and thus had to take heavy medication every day so good on him, and a lot of fun. 

So our premise and pastiche firmly in place, our heroes fly out to the frontier to adventure and Donald even thought ahead on them needing two more mounts and bought them from the local farmer for 100 bucks: It turns out their a llama, who jose takes and an old ox which donald reluctantly takes and wonders how to steer.. which I just got the double pun. Nice touch.

So our heroes head on with Donald expressing suprise they aren’t in the jungle like the movies, Jose correcting him, you get the bit he’s going for. But as they travel Donald not only breaks out the pamphlet but also , once jose mentions finding el dorado, casually mentions he and Scrooge already found it in columbia, and when Jose incrediously mentions that maybe he also already found the lost mines of the incas.. turns out yeah they did that too. Dont’ know if it was a barks or rosa story for either, since I didn’t check that part of Rosa’s notes, but it brings the scene into greatness as the boys not only belivie donald and figure he’s not pulling their legs.. but marvel at his life. And it’s here Donald smiles a bit.. he’s already got his smile back realizing that as miserable as his life can be.. he’s still seen and done things no man, even his globetrotting pals, has sever done before or sense. Found long lost places, solved mysteries and rewrote history.. sometimes literally sometimes in the “found things that changed historical knowledge” sense. Point is.. he realizes he has more to his life than he thought and maybe it isn’t so miserable after all. 

Donald also mentions the local waters are filled with stuff and the other Cabs mounts quickly climb on his continuting the gag of the Cabs assuming donald’s some big expert by accident. For me personally it varies in how funny it is, sometimes it’s grating othertimes it’s genuinelly pretty good, your mileage will vary. We then get a page and a half of slapstick with various animals and this gag repeated and it’s eh. Not bad, and there’s a REALLY great visual bit where donald gets squeezed by an anaconda and not only is he comically and tightly squeezeled, but it takes a few panels for it to wear off. Other than that not bad stuff but nothing especially new or really that funny. 

Our heroes soon find a pit trap.. and a capybara in said pit trap.. which I also give myself credit for recognizing on sight. Who dosen’t like a good capybara? Their basically a large brazillian rodent if you were curious. Donald asks what can they do and hte boys take it as a secret test of character, and not just donald being kind of lost and decide to help free trapped animals instead of treasure hunt which Donald, much like his entire life, just reacts to with “what what are we doing now?”. But they manage to free the greatful Capybara and we get this inspired bit. 

Naturally the sheer confusion of seeing this as well as being confronted with the relaly bizzare nature of his world, i.e. having both a rodent whose an old friend and one that’s clearly just a regular animal causes Donald to fall into the hole. He’s soon found by the natives.. and here we get one of the worst aspects of this story and one I honestly didn’t expect to encounter given Rosa’s research: Calling these indgeinous people’s.. “indians”. Yes really. 

We were in 2004 by this point, and even in the cultural cesspool of the early 2000′s, a time where micheal jacksons actions towards children were used for reams of jokes and where R.Kelly got off for the same just because “he makes the good musics”. What i’m saying is even in this time in history, we knew better than to use the term indian and I remember distinctily the term native american being in my text books even at this point as a kid. So Rosa, a world traveled knowledgable adult.. has no excuse for this, not even “It was the 50′s when this was set and they’d used this” as while he had Scrooge being mildly racist in “The Empire Builder from Callisota”, he didn’t you know, have scrooge use the fucking n word or other slurs during the story because you know that’s racist and he knows it’s racist. I’m coming down so hard on him because I expect BETTER. I can, even if it bothers me and I will give out about it, KINDA ignore the daisy stuff because domestic violence against men wasn’t as wellk nown, so while it dosen’t play well and I won’t pretend to enjoy it I can at least understand why rosa thought this was funny when it isn’t> This? The man clearly should know better, should know to use correct terms, and is usually better about this, but just isn’t here and for one of his last stories it’s REALLY depressing to see a man I have a ton of respect for fail this badly. It’s just a small element of hte story but it really sticks out badly and says bad things about an otherwise good man. Even a good man can really fuck up and Don.. honestly really fucked up even when, normally his portryal of indigneous people’s is really good.. and is for the rest of the story. This is just a really bad if really easy to miss bit I feel he deserves some flak over it. He knew better. This story proves he knows better in other ways and knows indgenous people deserve resepect. He just dosen’t show it in his laungauge and it’s disheartaning. 

Anyways, the Natives drop donald off with their cheif.. who turns out to not only speak perfect english, but has a rather nice modern setup and clothes. He’s the son of the former cheif whose dad, using a secret crystal city with a rich mine, paid for his son to go get an education in the US and hopefully bring back knowledge for his people. Instead all he learned was to be a greedy selfish asshat who calls his own people “savages”. This is what i’m talking about: While the indian thing is bad and Rosa should feel bad.. the rest of the story does treat these tribal peoples with genuine grace and care, as our main villian is shown as one partly because rather than respect his culture and simply use thenew knowledge of the outside world to help his people by educating them, bringing back new techniques and medcidnes while mixing it with thier old culture, the bastard prince simply wrote them off as savages and used his new learnings to rule them and get them into trapping, a buisness i’ts later made clear at the end of hte story they don’t like and only followed him because he’s their chief. And it dosen’t even come off as them following him as chief because their stupid, mainly just because of tradition and knowing they can’t escape him and he’d just find htem and find some way to cowtow them. The tribe here are innocent victimes forced into a life they don’t want by an asshole who became a colonizer instead of a hero and leader to his people and simply wants to sell them out as soon as possible to fiance a fancy and comfy life for himself.  The bad guy here is recycled from Rosa’s pre scrooge work, and works well here and honestly.. is a good villian and a good antagonist, something Rosa struggled with sometimes when not just using what barks made. He’s a chillingly realistic villian: someone who would step on where he came from instead of helping it and again treats these people as simple victims forced to be minons by circumstance and as the end of the story shows, and we’ll get to that, not nearly as stupid or “savage” as this cruel bastard thinks. And naturally being a cruel bastard, Chief, since his name isn’t given, plans to ransom donald as he naturally has no hangups about selling people AND rare animals. Thankfully Donald’s only a prisoner for a bit as Donald’s ox makes a back door and with the help of their mounts the boys free all the trapped animals and escape.. with Senior Martinez accidently taking the Chief’s necklace. Turns out that’s the sigal that signals his right to rule, so he figures if the tribe finds out it’s missing they’ll rightfully dump his ass and tells them to give chase, which the cabs find out about via a wild parrot. It’s better not to ask. 

So our heroes head into the wilderness to loose them and find a rocky slope, making their way up to some more plains. They now have both a high vantage, and a place to set up camp so do so. They also found out Martinez took the necklace, and now know why the chief is after them, but Panchito decides to keep it for now till they can figure out what to do with it. SO over the camp fire Donald decides that if they can find this lost mine that the Cheif’s dad used to go to,  they won’t need to look for diamonds the hard way and Jose’s skepticism is rebuffed by the fact that Donald’s found plenty of lost cities with scrooge.  So donald brings up the legend of the crystal city, with the guy who found it being colonel percy fawceet, and brings up more adventures you get the bit by now. Point is he mentions a crystal arch lighting up at night to ward off intruders.. and sure enough our heroes happen to be right by it, complete with a crystal road that simply had been covered by shale over the years. Donald decides to get some rest and head out in the morning, with a valid explination as to why not to worry about hteir perusers till then: It’s so dark that even if they left a trail, they can’t follow.. which the evil cheif agrees to though he finds the trail they dug up, pointing as an arrow and now realizing his dad’s treasure was real, plans to naturally exploit the hell out of it.  So the next morning, bright and early, our heroes have built a raft, and are greatful they looked in first as the waters are stalked with dangerous predatory creatures. How htey haven’t all killed each other, I do not no, but it looks cool so i’ll shut up now. So our heroes leave their mounts behind and head in up the stream via the raft and find the massvie and awe inspiring lost city.. as for why it hasnt’ been found they soon figure out why: THe stream in is dangerous, and jose figures it was delebratly packed with dangerous animals, and thus few would think to go in there, and the only ohter way up is scaling the cliffs it’s build into, but as the cities built into the sides of said cliffs, no one can see it from a distance. It’s a birlliant way to justify just WHY something remained lost and somthing barks is tremendous at. Our heroes soon find though that the canal go deeper and approaches a water fall.. and thus jump off loosing their only way back and thus heading in deeper to see if they can find another way out. Meanwhile the Cheif has found the swamp and recongizes his dad mentoning it and being a greedy jackass, and suddenly realizing that maybe his people won’t want to loot the city their swarn to protect, tells them to guard the Cabs mounts while he goes on ahead. 

Our heroes journey deeper into the unknown and after coming across pick axes mine carts and the like find the mines of fear.. lit with crystals and with wall to wall gems. So they’ve sucessful founds the lost minds of ophir, set up by one of king solomon’s realtiives. The actual King Solomons Mines had been found in a barks story, naturally and is also likely the basis for the african mines level in the ducktales game. 

Donald being donald.. ends up sitting on a giant anaconda who swallows him whole as he dosen’t realize just how big the thing is when his pals mention it to him, and only escapes through Dumb Luck, as is the duck family way, lighting a match and causing the Anadonda to spit him out and run... unfortunately not only does Panchtio loudley announce he dosen’t have his pistols, The Chief shows up with a gun. Naturally he intends to plunder, because jackass you see, and intends to leave the cabs stranded, with the anaconda picking them off one by one when they inevitibly have to sleep while he’ll come back with inflatable rafts and boats to loot the rest. The cabs bemoan the fact that their fucked.. and then this happens. 

So with that Donald FINALLY snaps, tired of taking the world’s shit and determined not to be the looser everyone around him but his boys clearly think he is. Seriously Donald.. dump. her. ass. It’d also tell you to dump gladstone in a shallow ditch but given your love for hacking through human flesh and his luck I don’t want you to impale yourself. So thus.. Donald stops getting polite and starts getting badass.. shouting THAT’S THE LAST STRAW BEFORE.. .. welll...

Bad. Ass. Also who knew Donald was part Kree? Wait .. how though? Questions for later. So as Donald gives the asshole his RICHELY deserved asshole a beat down, the anaconda pops up and grabs the boat.. with Donald STILL fighting the Chief the whole time. Holy shit. If this is your last time writing a character in a lead role what a note to go out on holy jesus. The cabs however show their CLOSE to as badass with Panchito roping the anconda and Jose attacking it once it curls around.. and unlike last time where his umbrella was quickly disarmed, here the Anaconda eats the tip.. only for Jose to expand it and on Panchito’s command, hook the damn thing. I didn’t relaize till writing this up just HOW badass this story’s climax is.. just holy shit this is awesome incarnate. 

Donald ends up loosing the fight eventually as asshole whomps him on the head with the gems.. and sends donald flying, destroying the gate regulating the water thanks to freeing the anaconda. As a result asshole escapes.. for about five seconds till he drops over the falls, presumibly to his MUCH deserved death and even if he surivives, likely wont’ for long without anything to defend himself. Goodbye asshole, you were a good villian but you’ll be better tarantula chow. 

Our heroes are still stranded.. but Panchito notices the Anadconda escaping and well... he decides to equal donald in badassery. Again..words do not do this justice. 

Our heroes disembark, and find that the tribe has been held at bay by the noble steeds, and as I mentioned earlier, and why despite the frequent use of .. that word i’ve said enough already, this story isn’t too bad. The tribe, once free.. are perfectly intellegent and nice, only in the game because of tradition that asshole abused. Their going to head deeper into the valley on the offchance asshole makes it back so he can’t find them. So the tribe is free and seeing the emblem as the symbol of their opressor and not wanting it, they can likely make a new necklace honestly just without the gems, Panchito gets to keep it. So our heroes won, the adventure is over and our heroes head back to rio

In our final scene we get our wrap up with our heroes back in Rio to enjoy what’s left of their vacation.. which given the scope of events only two days of it have passed so far, so it’s nicely implied they have a day or two before Donald has to go back where he can just.. enjoy himself. Have an actual vacation now his soul is whole again. Our heroes went to the authorities, and it turns out the Chief was one of the most infamous trappers in Brazil, and is now again either dead or in no way shape or form easily able to come back into the country.. and when he does, he’ll now have every officer in the country on his ass.So in short he’s pretty fucked and i’m pretty happy about that.  Naturally our heroes dont’ get to keep the mines, because well... it belongs ina museum.. or to become a museum and cultural landmark and the boys know and respect that. But Jose and Panchito both still got something out of the deal: for starters they have their confidence back, as seeing tthey could keep up with donald after realizing what a legend their friend is restored their own weary souls. Meanwhile, Jose’s newfound fame as the man who found a new brazilian cultural touchstone means his agent was able to get him booked up for a year, while Panchito , after consulting with the good senior martenez, decided ot keep the broach, and use it to get their ranch. And Donald? What did he find?

Donald found his smile again. He’s found himself again. After letting life beat him to near death, to just a souless shell. he’s found the real Donald. He’s realized that despite Scrooge’s finaical abuses he lives a rich full life. It’s part of why I compared the story to city slickers. While Donald’s life is far worse off than Billys, like him he finds himself again after the rousing adventure. And who knows what his future holds? Given Scrooge’s grave picture, yes Rosa drew that, he probably does marry daisy and work for the old bat.. but maybe now he can fight back, refuse to let htem walk all over him and actually find a healthy relationship with daisy and with his uncle before his uncle finally retires to Goldie’s loving arms. I could be wrong, it could be same as it ever was just he gets angry again.. but I like to think of something better for our boy. A better life and one more fufilled and more happy and one where he finally finds his pot of gold. He may not of found it yet but well.. there’s always another rainbow and he realizes that now just as his uncle did years ago. Donald is finally whole again to find his hapniess and a better life. Maybe with daisy, maybe with scrooge, maybe without them. Probably without Gladstone because he needs to cut that tumor out of his life, but still, he’s found himself and sometimes that’s all you need to find your purpose. So with that warm thought in my head our heroes play us out one last time. Well not for the restrospective obviously but still. 

Final Thoughts; While I do prefer the previous story, on going through this again for the review, I did find this story utterly charming and a great way to send off our boys and Donald for Rosa’s work. While again that one word is very unfortunate and Rosa should’ve known better, otherwise the story is pretty imaculate, using history to build a thrilling story with tons of character and a tremendous arc for Donald. And as I said the villian is excellent and overally the story is pretty great. Maybe held back a bit by the racisim, but the rest of the story is so joyous, badass and well crafted, it’s easy enough to override the less savory aspects. Dosen’t mean they didn’t need to be noted it just means this story is magificent and as usual for Rosa’s work I recommend it. 

Next time on the Ride of the Three Cablleros: We go to Disney Juinor for Mickey’s Perfecto Day! ..... whelp at least it’s a short one. 

And if you’d like to comission your own review, their just five bucks, jsut direct message me, tell me what you’d like, and I will send you the link on my paypal and get to it asap. Thank you so much for reading and have a happy holiday. 

#the three caballeros #donald duck #Jose Carioca #panchito pistoles #don rosa #duck comics #the magnificent seven minus 4 cablleros #the 2000's #comics #reviews #scrooge mcduck #daisy duck #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #gladstone gander

[hopetofantasy]

‘HUMO’s big youth survey - Sex, love and relationships’ - With Nathan Bouts

- TW: explicit content and mentions of sexual assault, intimidation, getting drugged, (internalized) homophobia, slutshaming, dubious consent, sexualization -

‘How does youth look at love? Do they go all out or keep it safe with a round of virtual sex? An experienced trio may reveal it all: Billie Leyers (25) is the third child from the well-known family Leyers and singer-song writer. Marie Van Uytvanck (21) recently kicked it off with her band Kids With Buns all the way to the semi-finals of ‘Humo’s Rock Rally’. For the testosterone at this table we’ve got Nathan Bouts (22), actor in the youth series ‘wtFOCK’. ‘I long for some spontaneity again. May I squeeze your butt?’

- Note from hopetofantasy: Marie is the same person who made the LGBT+ podcast, where Yara Veyt talked about her sexuality. -

The first number: 6 out of 10 youngsters think a serious relationship is important. Do you guys dream about that? Billie Leyers: “A lot of my girl friends are really looking for steady relationships. I’m not that type of person, I’d like to see what crosses my path. But for some kind of reason I still end up in one. Since I’ve been sexually active - soon it’ll be 10 years ago: huray! - I’ve had three long relationships. Now I’ve been together with Jasper (Maekelberg, from ‘Faces on TV’) for two and a half years. Coincidentally, it’s the man I wish to grow old with.” Nathan Bouts: “I think a serious relationship is a nice idea, but at the moment I don’t have one.” What kind of boxes should a potential partner tick on your list? Nathan Bouts: “Sounds pretentious, but I want someone with a certain intellectual level, someone I can talk to. She must be sure of herself.” Billie Leyers: “It’s the same for me. It doesn’t matter if someone is a good plumber, an actor or a musician, he should come home and talk about his day with passion. The biggest turn-off is someone who just smokes joints on a couch and doesn’t know how to handle his life.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “I might have a really weird box to tick: if I get to know someone, I want to see her Spotify-playlist. I can be really attracted to someone with the right playlist.”

Has Spotify provided you with a relationship yet? Marie Van Uytvanck: “Not yet. The fact that I was stuck in the closet for a long time, sure has something to do with that. I think a lot of people might have wondered for a long time if I was asexual. So, no. It just took me seven years before I was completely ready to share it with everyone.” You made a podcast about it: the ‘Uit De PodKast’. There, you talk about how you’ve told your parents. Marie Van Uytvanck: “Friends knew it already, but I waited a long time to come out at home. Actually, my parents just know about it recently: I’ve told them during lockdown, with a letter. Their reaction was really sweet. They mostly felt shitty for me, because I felt unhappy about it for years on end - I’ve known I liked girls since I was 14. I’ve never had a serious relationship, but I’ve dated someone for a long time. Even that was very complicated, because I was still in the closet. So we saw each other in secret at a café across the country (*laughs*). Ridiculous: two girls could sit next to one another perfectly, without people thinking they’d be on a date.” How is your relationship with your parents? I’m wondering, because there doesn’t seem to be a conflict between generations with the current one: four out of ten would even like to live in the same area as their parents.  Marie Van Uytvanck: “Since I came out to them, our bond has strengthened. Right before my coming out, it was a bit weird. During that time we went on vacation together. I’ve never longed for my own dorm more than on that trip. But now, I like to hug my mom all the time. The big secret isn’t a road block between us anymore.” Billie Leyers: “I live with my partner, but I get a long with my parents very well. Sometimes too much, I guess. If I didn’t call them or one of my sisters by noon, then Jasper asks me what’s wrong. Why should we even rebel to our parents? I’ve got the impression that their generation was far more rock-and-roll than ours. My dad gets annoyed at the festivals nowadays: opening bags and searching people, what’s rock-and-roll about that? Back in his days, everything was far more relaxed. They were the generation of the orgies. I wouldn’t mind to go back to that. It’s all too goody-goody now.” RETWEET! Out of all the serious relationships between young people, one out of five people met online. Five years ago, that number was only 15 percent.  Marie Van Uytvanck: “I’ve done it a few times, but I don’t think Tinder dating is pleasant. The idea that you meet someone and have to approve them, doesn’t feel right to me. Spontaneously meeting someone in-person with whom it clicks, seems way more fun. Even when it’s not that easy, since I fall for people of the same sex.” Billie Leyers: “I’ve got zero experience with Tinder. My relationships always started at school.” Like 1 out of 3 youngsters.  Billie Leyers: “I’ve met Jasper at school too: he was the mentor for my thesis. So yeah, I’ve run off with the teacher (*laughs*). I’ve seen it in my environment though, online dating. They’d be chatting for weeks or months, eventually meet up and then find out that there is no spark between them. It’s a shame, three months of your life in the thrash.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “Of course: you’ve been idolizing them for a while. Also, in a chat conversation you can still think before you send something, so no mistakes either.” Corona has been an obstacle in the life of the single: 73 percent of them hasn’t had new dates since March.  Nathan Bouts: “I didn’t experience the lockdown as dramatic. I just completely focussed on my music. With results, since my first single will be released soon.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “So you didn’t do anything the whole time? Not that I’ve done illegal dates during lockdown, but afterwards I’ve had some new dates. And no, it wasn’t always with social distance or face masks. Dating like that, seems a bit weird, no? (*Speaks to Billie*) Wasn’t it hard for you guys, as a couple?” Billie Leyers: “With a lot of couples it was the one or the other: they fell in love more than ever or it was over. It went surprisingly well with us: we’re perfectly in tune with each other. We give each other the much needed space.” Nathan Bouts: “That’s a great relationship you have! It seems fun to have something similar during the next lockdown, even though I’m kinda attached to my own independence. I’ve had a relationship of three years. If we were together for a week, I needed a few days to myself afterwards. Also, I think it’s terrible to sleep next to someone.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “Retweet! I’ve got the exact same. During the day, I’m already all over the place: I’ve got ADHD and talk too much. So when I get home, I’d like to go to bed, lay in my own smell.”

SQUIRREL IN BED Only 5 percent of serious teen relationship have met each other at a café. Do you guys walk up to someone at the bar? Billie Leyers: “Only the creepy types still do that. ‘You seem nice. Can I have your number?’ Then you leap back immediately, if you’re a woman.” Nathan Bouts: “Really? I think a guy could still do that though. I don’t - I hate flirting - but I see a lot of friends of mine do the same. They even use me. Then they pull me along at my arm, until the girl - they like to hit on - sees me: “Look, it’s my friend, Jens from ‘wtFOCK’. My character is a somewhat chill dude without any complexes, who’s seriously confident, so that resonates with the ladies. I don’t want to use that to impress them, but my friends don’t get it: ‘Why don’t you use that attention to sleep around?’.” That would be the 14 percent who fits the statement: if you’re young, you have to try as many sex partners as you like. Billie Leyers: “I’m not a guy, but the time you could dance with a girl and suddenly kiss her on the mouth, is completely behind us, I guess. If you’re not careful, they could accuse you of sexual assault afterwards. I long for a time we could do that again. Not that I’m pro-sexual assault, but a little bit of spontaneity is allowed, right? Everything has a question mark now: may I kiss you? May I squeeze your butt? Life has gotten less romantic.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “At parties, I still see - excuse me: saw - that happening, though: squeezing the butt. All my girl friends are bothered by it.” Nathan Bouts: “(*nods*) Some of my friends can’t go out for an evening of dancing without some dude grinding against them.” Billie Leyers: “But those are the creepy types. Only them still dare to try. Although: a while ago, I was walking over the Groenplaats with my bike in hand. Suddenly some guy asked me timidly if he could walk along. First I thought it was weird, but it was kinda cute too. He walked with me and said goodbye in a polite way. He probably noticed that my ‘I’m taken’-light was on. If I was single, I might have given him my number. That would be a nice story, right?” Do you think, just like almost one out of three young people, that #metoo is being greatly exaggerated? When asked the guys, it’s even 38 percent. Billie Leyers: “Difficult topic. I’m not that into hashtag MeToo, I guess.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “You have to be careful with statements like that. I do think people abuse the #metoo to get attention. It’s a small amount of people, but like that, they ensure that serious issues get cast into the shadow and that people even use the hashtag as a joke.” Something is happening though: 1 out of 4 girls say they’ve experienced sexual assault and intimidation. Billie Leyers: “Are those also the girls who get squeezed in the butt? For me, sexual intimidation resonates more with skewed balances of power at work. It’s still disgusting of course, but different than someone who puts his hand on your arm at the bar. I think we’ve gone too far in that issue. We’re all human and fumble about.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “You’re right in that. One time, there was a guy a few meters away, starting at a girl on the dance floor. Okay, that wasn’t nice, but it was the ‘Gentse Feesten’ (= a 10-day music and theatre festival in Ghent, known for its partying until the late hours) and everyone was drunk. Suddenly that girl said: ‘I’m gonna fix this.’ She went to get security and they tossed the guy out, while everyone was looking at him as if he was the biggest pervert, who assaulted her. On the other hand, I heard a lot of complaints of girls that they’ve been drugged at parties too.” Nathan Bouts: “Not only girls experience that. I was at a party once and a girl put a bottle of water in my hand, while asking: ‘You thirsty?’. I don’t know if that water was meant for me, but I’m sure they put something in it: I felt weird and dizzy afterwards, I barely made it home with my bike. At home, I sat on the toilet for three hours, not knowing where I was.” Of the girls who had sex, a third did experience it (once) against their wishes. 16 percent of guys state the same. Marie Van Uytvanck: “Last year I was on a trip to Berlin with my class. In the club a woman drugged one of the boys and got him off. If that’s not assault, I don’t know it anymore... But the weird thing was: the boy acted as if nothing was wrong. He even seemed proud of it.” Billie Leyers: “For men, the cliché still stands: every guy likes to get a blowjob. If the guy was proud for real, though, there shouldn’t be a problem.” Did you experience sex against your will, Nathan? Nathan Bouts: “Not really against my will, but it happens that I lose the desire halfway through. It’s my own issue: I get distracted really easily. I could be having sex and suddenly think: why did Nelson Mandela die? Or which color should I paint my wall?” Marie Van Uytvanck: “So relatable. Do you have ADHD too?” Nathan Bouts: “Could be: I’ve got the attention span of a squirrel. Sometimes I can get distracted by the abstract aspect of ‘sex’ itself: what in god’s name is my body actually doing? Then it suddenly gets too graphic.” Now I’m very curious of your first time. Nathan Bouts: “Terrible! When I was 14, I was going to, but then she changed her mind. I didn’t mind that it eventually took a few years: I was 17. What can I say about it? The expectations were high, but not a lot happened.” Billie Leyers: “Isn’t the first time clumsy for everyone? (*to HUMO*) Don’t you have any statistics about that?” Not about that, but I do have numbers about the age of young people when they first have sex. Guess. Nathan Bouts: “Pretty young, I guess. 14? 15? That’s what I hear around me.” 16,7. That’s barely a difference with 2015 (16,6) or even 2010 (16,8). And everyone keeps thinking that young people do it at a younger age. Billie Leyers: “I’ve had a false start, like Nathan: when I was 14, it almost happened. But as soon it was clear that he was going for more, I thought: ‘ho, we’re not going to do that!’ After that experience, it took me two more years before I went all the way. (*to Marie*) So, question: have you ever felt something for a guy?” Marie Van Uytvanck: “Yes. I can feel sexually attracted to a boy, but not romantically. I don’t get butterflies in my stomach for boys.” Five years ago 70 percent of girls thought love and sex should always go together, now only half thinks that way - just like the guys. Do girls have more meaningless one night stands too? Marie Van Uytvanck: “Just with someone random? I don’t like that at all.” Billie Leyers: “I think it might be something. I told before that I usually have long relationships, but in that period between two relationships my inner Samantha from ‘Sex and the city’ emerges and then I could go for a one night stand. When I’m single, I’m a different version of myself, more animal than human, and totally focussed on the physical.” Never had a bad experience? Billie Leyers: “Oh, I did. Once I thought, even before it ended: oops, I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t stay the night, but I left at 6 o’clock in the morning. The regret already appeared. With a good one night stand, both parties are on the same wavelength: you both know it’s noncommittal, almost for sport.” Don’t you get looks for that, as a woman? Billie Leyers: “I’m not the last drunk girl on the dance floor and someone who sits on some other guys’ lap a half an hour later. If you go to your place with a one night stand in a discreet way, nobody will point fingers.” Nathan Bouts: “I wish I could do that, cut sex from love, but I’m too self-conscious for one night stands. Before I can be completely vulnerable, I have to know the other person through and through. Once, I’ve tried it, but as soon as we were laying in bed, I didn’t felt the spark anymore and I just wanted to leave. I couldn’t even get him up. I did went down on the girl and apologized: ‘Sorry, I don’t think more than this will happen’.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “Crazy that I heard that from a guy’s mouth, for once.” The young people who did have sex, have done it with an average of five different people. In 2015 it still was 3,3. With guys, the number is even higher than girls: seven compared to three. Nathan Bouts: “I’m far below that: I’ve only been with two girls in total.” Billie Leyers: “(*shocked*) Really? I’ve got more. That’s probably my Samantha that has something to do with that.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “I didn’t have that many sex partners either, especially with the whole closet-thing. If you have sex with a woman, then the question remains: what’s sex and what’s foreplay? Do you count going down as sex or foreplay? Even among us, dykes, we’ve got that kind of conversations. Everyone sees that differently.” Should you, as a girl, better name a lower number every time when it comes to sexual partners? Billie Leyers: “I guess you better not say a number higher than the average.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “I don’t have that impression. Don’t boys experience the same, nowadays? ‘He fucks everyone’.” Nathan Bouts: “Actually, yes. Men can be sluts too.” TRIO WITH A LOG From the survey we can conclude that girls go for partners of the same sex far more than boys.  Billie Leyers: “Between my almost-first time and my real first time, I’ve been with a girl for a year. She was my best friend. Our first kiss was a joke, but soon enough it turned into something serious. We were in love, although you should take that with a grain of salt: we were in love like 15-year-olds could be in love. They didn’t know that at home: I only stayed over at her place for a suspicious amount. I can still feel attracted to girls, but I couldn’t be with a girl anymore. Emotionally, it’s too much and physical it’s too less.” Nathan Bouts: “Boys won’t admit quickly that they would like to try something with a boy. We still live in a macho culture.” The statistics are worrying: 1 out of 6 boys think it’s a problem if there’s a gay friend within their group. A quarter doesn’t think having a transgender between their mates is okay. Nathan Bouts: “I’ve kissed a dude before. I don’t think it’s disgusting at all. I can still look at a man and think: that’s a handsome man. Not that I have the desire to give him a blowjob, far from it, but objectively, I can still find a man beautiful. I think a lot of men think like that, but won’t dare to admit it. For me, that seems like bottled up macho frustrations. I’m not bothered by it.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “When I was prepubescent, I had a weird phase where I didn’t notice that I might be gay, even though it was as obvious as it could be. Not that I participated in gay bashing or made homophobic comments, but I pretended that I thought it was disgusting. I was probably scared of how people would look at me if they knew. (*to Nathan*) Did you know you’re in my podcast? I’m using a scene from wtFOCK where your voice can be heard. It’s such an amazing tv series for young people who are gay, because you guys treat it as a normal thing. As a teen, I missed characters or storylines where I could recognize myself in.” Nathan Bouts: “We’ve often received reactions from young people who are grateful for what we did. Because of us, they took that step to come out.” For the first time, we asked young people to define themselves. 9 percent checked the ‘bisexual’ box, 4 percent call themselves ‘gay’ or ‘lesbian’. How do you guys define yourself? Marie Van Uytvanck: “I’m homo-romantic and bisexual, but you can call me gay. Rather that than ‘lesbian’, because that sounds ugly.” Billie Leyers: “I think all those labels are a bit tiring.” Nathan Bouts: “Me too. If I have to, I’ll define myself as heterosexual, but at the same time I think it’s difficult to label myself. Who knows if in one year, I’ll meet a man whom I could fall in love with.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “Nice that you can admit that, as a man.” Something seems wrong with the tolerance of boys: two girls who walk hand-in-hand, is a problem for 7 percent of them and 28 percent still thinks it’s weird. Marie Van Uytvanck: “I never walk hand-in-hand on the street, but I wouldn’t do that with a boy either. I simply don’t like it. From the girls who do, I hear that they keep getting sexualized: then they’ll get horny comments directed at them.” Nathan Bouts: “It’s because of porn: lesbian porn is the most viewed category - I read that somewhere.” Are you part of the 30 percent that has seen porn with their partner? Nathan Bouts: “With a partner, I wouldn’t do that. You still have each other?” Billie Leyers: “Nowadays everyone can admit that they watch porn. Watching it together has a certain thrill to it. You’re getting horny by watching the same thing, without touching each other. That’s part of the fun.” Nathan Bouts: “Hm, maybe I should try it.” Something else you could try: sex with multiple partners at once. 6 percent of the sexual active youth has done it. Nathan Bouts: “I don’t know if that’s my ambition, a threesome. It would make me even more self-conscious. And I would think of the practical stuff: how do I organize that? What’s my role? Do I have enough hands to pleasure everyone?” Billie Leyers: “(*laughs*) You’ll need a log!” Marie Van Uytvanck: “Nowadays you see that question pass by a lot on Tinder: couples seeking a third party.” Billie Leyers: “In that concept, I would only like to be the guest star. It’s probably terrible to be the girl in that couple. Immediately, the next day, you’ll think: ‘Will my partner think she was more pretty or better?’ I would only get more insecure.” RACY MATERIALS And what about virtual sex? Of the experienced youngster, a third has done it. In 2015, it was only a quarter of them.  Marie Van Uytvanck: “I wouldn’t dare. I already think that people spy on me through my camera. I would be scared to end up like those three famous people.” (= Two months ago, the nudes from three famous Belgian people were leaked and shared without consent on the internet, causing a storm in their personal lives as well as their fanbase and the Belgian people.)  Billie Leyers: “Every time the conversation comes up, I think: I’m so happy I didn’t have to go through that.” Nathan Bouts: “Absolutely. (*makes a cross for good luck*) I’ve send a nude pic once too, but never with my face on it. Even if that gets leaked, nobody will know that it’s me.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “Will we ever know what happened with those people? Who knows, it might’ve been a hacker.” Who of you have seen the images? Marie Van Uytvanck: “Someone pushed them in my face, but I’m kinda blind - my sight is 3 out of 10 - so I didn’t see a lot (*laughs*).” Billie Leyers: “I’m teaching at an art school and I’ve heard 13-year-old girls scream to each other: ‘I’ve got Peter de Veire!’ As if it’s about Pokémon cards you could collect. I corrected her: ‘It’s Peter VAN de Veire and don’t you have something better to do?’.” Do you still dare to do it, sexting? Billie Leyers: “Yes. If my partner is on tour for three weeks, then it might derail to sending each other racy materials. But our bond of trust is strong. Plus: it feels comfortable to know that you have as much incriminating evidence of the other on your cell phone as he has of you.” In ‘De Morgen’, there was an article about the sexting-scandal, with the headline: ‘The spread position between prudish and voyeurism.’ Which side is the youth leaning into? Billie Leyers: “I wouldn’t know. On the one hand, you’ve got Cardi B who’s rapping about wet ass pussy and that sex is the most normal thing in the world, but if you click on a clip of one of those famous people, you’re suddenly a criminal. A weird position, yes.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “Nowadays with every topic, you’ve got two groups. Is Cardi B now the ultimate feminist or is her song just vulgar? It’s the first one for me. I think it’s cool if women can sing about their pussy too, whilst men can rap ‘suck my dick’ for years and nobody bats an eye.” Nathan Bouts: “I’m not a fan of the song, but it’s good that they talk about it. Except: if I open TikTok and see 9-year-old grind on that song, then I think: what image are they growing up with? Two females with fake breasts and a collagen butt who roll over the floor: soon they’ll think that every women needs to look like that.” Let’s end with romance: do you see yourself ever getting married? Almost 1 out of 4 think marriage is outdated.  Nathan Bouts: “I don’t think so. Too expensive and too much effort.” Billie Leyers: “It doesn’t have to be expensive? I see the principle of marriage starting a revival soon. I would like to get married.” And then get two children? An average of two, like most young people? Billie Leyers: “I used to say ‘when I grow up, I want to have 12 children’. That’s because I’m from a big family myself, as were my parents. When the Leyers-clan organizes a family day, we need our own venue.” Marie Van Uytvanck: “I want to have kids, I just don’t want to push them out myself. The idea that a child grows inside you, I don’t like that.” Nathan Bouts: “I want kids too. Two to start, and then we’ll see. Some time ago, I saw a kid on the tram and thought tenderly: ‘A child of my own...’ A slight surge of nesting instinct, I guess.”

#wtfock #wtfam #nathan bouts #jens stoffels #skam

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

Indefinite Hiatus.

To anyone reading this, I ask that you respectfully do not reblog this post, as it is very personal, thank you. That being said, the post is long, I’m a writer, what do you expect? But there were so many things I needed to get of my chest, whether anyone reads it all or not, simply doesn’t matter. I had to speak it all out, in order to move on. I will as such hide it under a cut, in case anyone should be curious why I am going on hiatus. Which I don’t usually do, I tend to just take off for a couple of days when things bother me enough to leave. But I thought this time I had to make an announcement, as it is quite possible I am simply just done with this place, and wont be returning. I simply don’t know at the moment, and none of what I write in this post, is written as a form of attention seeking, nor a way for me to get people to show me attention or beg me to stay. If I’m going, I’m going, and there’s nothing anyone can say that would make me stay. I simply make the announcement out of the respect for the few followers I still have some respect for. I wont just up and leave with no word when there’s people on here I still care about. So to be abundantly clear. This is a hiatus. I might be back. I might not be back. Only time will tell. I may some days hang around to check up on cc, you may even see me reply a person here and there, and not reply others. This isn’t anything personal towards anyone. I am simply a person who constantly bend over backwards for everyone else, then push myself repeatedly aside. And I am officially done with it. From now on if you see me online, on any sort of platform, I will not feel bad in any sort of way for not being available, simply because I am online. From now on I will only engage in things that resonate with me, when they resonate with me. Anything else steals my peace. And I no longer want to allow that. I might be gone a couple days, I might be gone a month. Maybe you wont ever see me return, and that’s that. I will take the time I need, even if that means for good. I will no longer put others before my own well being. I might even come by to reblog this post a few times, simply for the fact that I spent many hours, weighing my words, trying to make them as polite, yet clear as possible. I spent lots of time and energy on this, so if I during my hiatus come by to reblog it, it’s not a way to seek attention, or more likes/comments. It’s simply that I made a large effort, and I want as many of my followers to read this, so there’s no confusion as to why I am suddenly gone. If you want me to clarify further than that/you’re curious what finally made a “kind” person give up, it’s all below the cut:

I’ve been sitting on this for a couple days. Debating on whether I should say something or not. But I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to be as transparent as possible, in hopes that, it may, help someone else avoid being in a similar situation. Maybe someone will learn something along these lines of words I so carefully have put together. Preventing someone else from getting hurt. One can hope. And I also hope by speaking up, I can release the negativity I have been carrying, and set it free. Preventing it from weighing me further down. A few days ago, I entered one of my oldest characters, Odette, into a model casting, for Billsims. An experience that should have been fun and enjoyable, but instead resulted in making the decision to pull Odette out of the casting, to avoid Billsims potentially getting in trouble. You see, on the application info post, Billsims mentioned that it would be nice if a bit of info would be written about the sim we would enter, but it wasn’t a must. I decided, as a writer, to write a bit about my character, cause you betcha, as soon as someone mentions they might want a few words about a character of mine, -and my words start spilling like iced tea on a hot summers day! So I added the basic info I thought Odette herself would find important. Among that, I mentioned she’s a ‘Romanian Gypsy’. I did this to best clarify what Ethnicity she has, and what she classifies herself as. If I had simply written ‘Roma/Romani’, many people might not have understood what was meant. And I wanted to be as clear as possible about her, plus the word Gypsy, is simply what she has chosen for herself. I furthermore added she’s a proud woman, and a Pagan. Surprise surprise, someone didn’t like this info, and decided it was okay to point that out on my application post.  I still don’t understand some people’s need to constantly nitpick at anything they see online, specially in public, and specially when it comes to people simply having a hobby, enjoying said hobby peacefully, without harming anyone. Now, the post is still up on my blog, the comments are still there. Anyone is free to go have a look if they wish to know exactly what was said. But that being said, I hope and would like to think my followers are old enough to not attack anyone. Please. It wont solve anything. I also ask that no one bother Billsims about the matter, he was perfectly wonderful about it all, and had no issue with neither me, nor Odette. I was the one who decided to pull her out of the casting, in order to protect him, he even told me I was more than welcome to enter someone else. I decided against that however, to protect my peace. Something a very wise person told me to do. Thank you. I stopped replying to the person after my first reply, simply cause I saw no reason to engage in a debate that would lead nowhere. It seemed as if they already had a rather twisted view of me or my character or what was going on, quite possible a mix of it all? So I let them stay in their belief. Trying to convince them otherwise seemed like a tedious task, I had no energy to take on. And I instead went for advice from a trusted person, and enjoyed a long peaceful and uplifting conversation, rather than a fruitless quarrel with someone that was already so sure I was out there doing all sorts of harmful things through my character. I suppose the person commenting wasn’t a follower of mine, and if they were, I cannot imagine them to be a longtime follower. You see, I am aware Gypsy by now is often seen as a ‘slur word’, as this person was trying to educate me. I do not write something into my characters without making at least some sort of research first. Had this person been a long term follower, they would have known, I rarely ever use that word. As a matter of fact, not so long ago, I posted the bio of another character, Gabriella, she was also listed as ‘Romanian Gypsy’. So is the rest of the Lupei clan that both Odette and Gabriella belong to. They have always been listed as such. Ever since I started on Simblr 5 years ago. No one has ever commented on it before. And when I posted Gabriella’s bio earlier this Autumn, I was even met with surprise that I have Roma characters. So it seems, even long term followers hadn’t noticed. Which must mean, I am certainly not a person spreading the word around. It’s not the first time, I have had to get ‘whipped over the back of my head with a wet newspaper,’ by someone who thought I needed some schooling. I have had that experience twice before. So 3 times in total the 5 years I’ve been here. What a rebel I must be, since I have had to be corrected so many times. Once for having many gay characters in Polyamorous relationships. Once for having twins/blood related characters dating each other, and was as result accused of saying incest is right and spreading it as if everyone should be doing it. Which I never did, and never would. We have Game Of Thrones doing that already. First of, I simply don’t agree with that. I don’t think incest is right. However, I also don’t think it is wrong, if the people involved love each other and can make it work. And yes, that is possible. The person getting their panties in a twist over River and Jackall being a couple, did mention they had experienced incest close hand, so I do wanna defend them, and give them their space to be outraged, since I could understand it was a trigger for them. However, I cannot prevent everyone’s triggers, nor is it my job to do so. It is up to you to avoid your triggers, and to find a way to deal with them, so when someone does trigger you, you can handle yourself the best way possible. The whole world is never gonna wrap you in cotton. You need to wrap yourself. It took me no more than 2 minutes to find a very informative Wiki article about how incest IN FACT can be between two consensual adults, which the individual claimed could NEVER exist. Furthermore it can happen between two consensual adults whom happen to love each other just as dearly as two people in a completely “normal” relationship can. Two minutes research was all it took. Imagine if people would do just a minimum effort of research BEFORE they start attacking other people. Imagine a world like that. By all means, if I were out there on the street corners of the world, with pamphlets promoting incest, drag me to a side and slap me. That aint cool. But I am just over here, in my quiet little corner, doing my own thing, which btw you are more than allowed to disagree with, but don’t come knocking on my door with your disagreement. The very few posts I have ever shown of my incestuous couples, have all been very tasteful. And although it is mentioned on each characters bio, whom they are in a relationship with, I think it’s been years since I last even posted a pic of any of said people. I have posted far worse things, and no one ever mate as much as a squeak about it. Still, you are allowed to disagree, I just wish you would handle it in a better way than schooling everyone who does something you mildly (or even strongly) disagree with, and save the schooling for the real issues such as child pornography, Nazi’s, global warming, racism, whether people should wear a mask or not, and any sort of abuse/bullying. Here’s three alternatives I welcome on the other hand: 1. Scroll on. (I have talked with several of my long term followers, and they have confirmed they don’t always agree with the things I post, but they follow anyway, because they enjoy the majority of what I post, and the rest they simply scroll past. It doesn’t ruin their day, or their enjoyment of following my blog in general.) 2. Unfollow. You are always more than welcome to unfollow A-NY-THING on social media, if you do not like what you are seeing. When you subscribe to something/someone, the moment you no longer enjoy what you are seeing, you always have the chance of unfollowing. It’s not a permanent subscription for the rest of your life. Nor a chance for you to try to change what others are posting about. Specially as long as it isn’t harming anyone. 3. Block. The button exist on the vast majority of social media for a reason. Use it if you believe something or someone is so bad that it/they steal your sunshine. Block block block, and move away from it. If you keep hanging onto something you have blocked, what’s the point really? You’re still allowing it to affect you. Move on. And for the umpteenth time, even if my characters does something/say something/engage in something, doesn’t necessarily have to mean I agree with them/their choices/their lifestyle. With some things I do, others I don’t. I’m a writer. I enjoy writing things that challenges me, and challenges the reader. I simply don’t find joy in writing the typical white picket fence story where everyone fits into society, and everything is butterflies and Dandelions. But at the same time, I also don’t run around nitpicking at the people who do enjoy writing or reading these types of stories. The thing is, it’s fiction, right? I’m not writing about real life characters. So I ask you, do you believe every piece of fiction you have ever read? Does Lord Of The Rings or Harry Potter align with real life? If you can say no to that, then why on earth are you so dead sure that the fiction I write align with reality? For the last time, I do NOT agree with incest. For my characters, which btw doesn’t end at just River and Jackall, I do believe in it, simply for the circumstances of how the relationships happened. But you would have to read my whole story to finally understand it all. But I am not cramming it down your throat, specially if you have already made it clear you disagree. To that I once again want to add, my story is nowhere public, so I am really not in any way educating anyone on incest or ‘Gypsies’ or polyamory or anything else. I think polyamory is cool for the people who enjoy it. Have I personally ever been in a poly relationship? No. But I am at the belief people can do with their private life what they wish, as long as they aren’t harming anyone and everyone involved agrees. And to get back to what this post originally was intended to be about, the matter on Odette’s post, I have a few last things I need to say before I put the matter to rest: I'm not representing all of Romani, when I speak for my character(s). I never once mentioned this is how all Romani is. So if that’s what you read, that is on you and the words you add to mine, not my actual words or intention. I'm simply allowing my character and her family to be whatever they want to be, and call themselves however they see fit. As long as they are good kind people, it shouldn't matter much what they call themselves, as long as they don't use slur words for others. I never once claimed that all Romani is Pagan. Odette is. Her father or twin brother, isn't. Odette comes from a mixed background, and is as such a mix herself. And how beautiful is that? Wouldn't it be a shame, if we were only ever allowed to be just one thing in this life? I am not out here educating people on Romani culture, I am not calling people Gypsy in real life, nor do I do it online. In fact I don't call anyone anything in real life, cause people's skin tones simply doesn't matter that much to me. We are all just shades. No shade is more important than the other. We are all decaying plant food. Really. Odette has proudly chosen this word for herself, just as her family before her has been proud to do so. I have in no way portrayed my characters in the meaning of any sort of slur word. They are all highly intelligent well educated people. Odette is under education as a nurse. Her father is a well known and well respected doctor. Furthermore, they are all shape-shifters, whom can shift into very large wolves. Odette’s father being the Alpha. Wait, does that mean I am calling all Romani werewolves? It’s fiction. I am not standing on some stool somewhere preaching to anyone. I’m just me and my characters. I keep it between them and I 99% of the time. My roomie has a friend whom proudly calls herself a Gypsy. She has family whom proudly call themselves Gypsies. So not everyone views this word as bad. And yes there are real life people out there, who sees the word as positive and call themselves by it. Are you going to run after them too, and dictate what they are allowed to call themselves? Or is that only reserved for Simblr’s you disagree with? You simply can’t box up a whole minority like that and claim the word is always offensive and no one is allowed to use a specific word to describe themselves. Furthermore: Mixed background/ethnicity/religious beliefs/spiritual beliefs is a thing in the real world too, not something I made up over night to harm anyone. 'Gypsy' has never been said as a slur word coming from me, it was never ill-intended, and never will be, just like gay never will be said as a slur or ill-intention coming from me. Yet gay is also a word that has quite often been used as a slur. And still is. So, should we stop using it all together? No. It can be said in good intention, and in bad, it all depends on the person using the word. And people should surely be allowed to call themselves gay, shouldn’t they? Never have any of my Romani characters been portrayed in a bad light. (Or gay characters for that matter, but that's not what the subject is about)   And if they ever would be portrayed in a bad light, it would certainly have nothing to do with them being Romani. I personally see no point in that. My story and my characters are a source of joy for me, I have no intention of bringing racism into it. Now, we can agree that the word Gypsy is by now used as a slur, but it wasn't originally a slur, and once again, I do believe a person is allowed to call themselves whatever they may wish. Odette and her family wouldn't call other people Gypsies, unless they knew they were okay with it, and proud. Added to that, I do not believe a word can be racist or a slur in itself. A word is just a word. A string of consonants and vowels tied together to create a sound. It's the person using the word, who gives it ill-intentions, not the word itself, unless it was deliberately created with the only intention of hurting. Which as far as I am aware, wasn't the origin of the word Gypsy. 'Roma (Gypsies) originated in the Punjab region of northern India as a nomadic people and entered Europe between the eighth and tenth centuries C.E. They were called "Gypsies" because Europeans mistakenly believed they came from Egypt. This minority is made up of distinct groups called "tribes" or "nations." Most of the Roma in Germany and the countries occupied by Germany during World War II belonged to the Sinti and Roma family groupings. Both groups spoke dialects of a common language called Romani, based on Sanskrit (the classical language of India). The term "Roma" has come to include both the Sinti and Roma groupings, though some Roma prefer being known as "Gypsies." ' - Source: https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/roma-gypsies-in-prewar-europe So to really boil this whole thing down to the bone, so hopefully this wont ever be an issue again: I do not use the word Gypsy in my day to day life. By creating a character who addresses herself as Gypsy AND also happens to be a Pagan, I do NOT in any way indicate that all ‘Gypsies’ are Pagans. I simply state that my character is. Nothing more, nothing less. I do not agree with incest in real life, though I do believe people are allowed to do with their private life as they see fit, as long as they aren’t harming others, and everyone involved is agreeing. I do not promote Poly relationships. Although once again, I’m a firm believer that people are allowed to do with their private life as they see fit yadda yadda... I do not promote being gay or any other sort of sexuality for that matter. Not that I have ever been accused of that, but I wanted to cover it anyway, cause who knows, it might be the next one I should get corrected for. I have a few times mentioned being trans, that was also not in any way a promotion. I do not promote Necrophilia. And here I really must snort. Some years ago (on an old blog, not this one) some very dear followers of mine, gently persuaded me to make some rather graphic pictures of my character Raven, literally f*ck*ng some corpses. It was posted in October as some satirical Halloween-ish post, as far as I remember, and was started from a simple question of, IF, it could be done in ts3? I was then challenged to do it. I did. People clapped. I’m sure others cried. But to my surprise my follower numbers didn’t drop, they increased? No one came running to ‘teach me a lesson’. No one came around to tell me what my demon was allowed to do or not. He was free to do whatever/whomever he wanted. And that’s the thing. There’s so many things in my story, and about my characters, that you don’t know. Cause I don’t post it out there for everyone to see. Cause I am not trying to promote a thing. I am simply here to challenge myself, and along that line challenge the few people I ever trusted to be my readers. You see, I don’t write for the numbers, meaning I don’t write a story that is meant to have a large following. I write for me, cause it is one of the only things that has ever helped me get through life, and fight some of my inner demons, to fight complications, to fight grief, to cope with all sorts of personal things I’m going through, and to have a place to escape to when life is too scary. I write for the content, the depth, for me, not for the fame, not for likes, not for anyone else. This is mine, and I don’t promote it on any scale, I keep 99% of it in private, and the rest I do air in public I air on a very minimal scale. If you decide to get offended about the fact that I drizzled a specific word once on a post, and a handful of times on my personal bios, well, that’s on you. It’s not a word I am out there spreading like a wildfire. People that has followed me for years never saw it till recently. Which should really speak loud of how little that word has ever come from me. I’m a respectable person. I do my best to respect everyone around me. At any time. Even when people don’t deserve an ounce of my respect. But that does not mean I should be weighed down with the burden of never offending anyone, cause then I might as well never speak again. Fact is, now more than ever, people are so offended by almost anything they can come across on social media. Jumping to conclusions here and there, when all they could do is simply ask, before getting offended and as a result decide to school or attack everyone around them. For no one to ever get offended again, we should all log out, and never sign in again. Why does it have to go to these extremes where no one can speak a word any longer, cause everything is an offense, a trigger, a slur? So I stay here in my little corner, doing me, doing my characters the way I like them. It is up to you to agree or disagree. You are free. But don’t come at me expecting I’ll change a thing for you. Cause you will only get disappointed. These people and their story is my way to cope with life, and as long as I am not out there shouting slur words at people or promoting certain ways of lifestyle, or deliberately harming anyone in any form of way, I cannot see why I shouldn’t be allowed. Just as you are allowed to do your own coping. Just as you are always allowed to scroll on, unfollow or even block things/people, you disagree with. Odette stays the way she is. So does the rest of my characters. It wont ever change because someone disagrees. The only way my characters change, is by character development, which mostly they decide for themselves. And I simply don’t see it in the cards that Odette will wake up and not feel Gypsy or stop using that word to describe herself, cause she personally sees nothing negative in it. Nor will she stop being Pagan because her mixed religion/background is making you uncomfortable. There’s plenty Christians out there, with Jesus or Bible quotes tattooed on them, yet Leviticus 19:28 say: Ye shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor print any marks upon you: I am the Lord. Interpret that the way you want it. But allow my character to do her religion the way SHE sees fit, simply for the fact that I am sure you want the same respect. I will not ever change my characters or my story for anyone but myself. You can express your dislike from here and until you get tired of repeating yourself, you can unfollow, you can block, you can even report me and get my posts taken down. You can even take it as far as getting my blog shut down. It wont make a difference. My story has been written for 6 years, some characters was written even longer than that. The story is over 200 book-length-chapters, close to 300 as a matter of fact. If I should change anything for a person I don’t even know, it would be almost 300 chapters I would have to reread and rewrite. Would you do that for some person that came by a post of yours, disagreeing with the way you portrait your own original character? If your answer is yes, I truly feel sorry for you. Lastly I want to say, try to be kind. Try to breath before you go and attack someones way of doing their own thing. Before you accuse someone of portraying something a certain way, maybe take a look at the persons previous work. Is it a one time thing, or is it a reoccurring matter? It may just be an itsy bitsy thing that you are blowing out of proportions, sorta like entering a conversation you know nothing about and then start correcting people left and right. It makes little to no sense, and in most cases, even if you might be meaning well, you end up doing more harm than good. Like in this case. You didn’t get to teach someone something they didn’t already know. You didn’t stop someones inappropriate behavior. What you did on the other hand, was extinguishing someones last spark. Their last will to keep going. You take that to the bank now, and be proud of yourself. Was it worth it? You can always accuse and assume. You’re free to do just that. But maybe in the future, try to replace accuse and assume with politely asking if your ‘concern’ is valid or not. Try to be mindful, try to be kind, try to consider that maybe the person you are about to put on the school bench/attack/bully or whatever you are about to do, is fighting an invisible battle you know nothing about. Maybe you are going to be the last straw for them. So try to weigh it all, is your righteous crusade worth it? Is it worth it to spill your two cents on a possible harmless matter, just so you can feel you fought a righteous battle and took someone ‘evil’ down, whom in fact were just trying their best to survive, by doing the one thing that helps them through it all, in their own little corner, harming no one. You know, there are tons of people like that out there. Making someone online feel so absolutely useless/worthless that they end up taking their own lives. Then blame the victims for it. Now, I might be a pretty strong person, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be at the end of my rope, and you simply don’t know. Do you? Thank you for taking your time to extinguish my last spark.

[honeyhan-123]

Project Legacy

Summary: After the events of Civil War, Tony Stark is left all alone and decides that he will do whatever it takes to ensure a legacy.

Warnings: Dark!Tony, breeding kink, dub con, hints of stalking.

AN: I know I said I would be on hiatus and I am but this was 90% completed and even though I had to write some on my phone it turned out okay. That being said I’m sorry if there’s any weird formatting issues but I won’t be able to fix them for some time. Also, this was written for the lovely and incredible and just all round amazing @searchforanotherway dark fic challenge, my prompt will be in bold. 🥰

My Masterlist

You had grown to hate your email account, your phone too, asking yourself why it was always empty, never filled with any new messages.

It had been like this for months, ever since you had finished your PhD and was actually looking for work. You had sent out countless resumes, trying to find somewhere that was in need of a lab assistant, preferably specialising in human genetics but at this point you weren’t picky any more. You just wanted something, anything other than the way you were forced to sell your body - and your remaining dignity - every other night.

You longed for the days you had joked with college classmates about how you planned to drop out and become a stripper rather than sit the bio-chemistry final. Oh how innocent you were, how naive, thinking that you would be able to find a job straight out of your postgrad.

You had been left with nothing but a load of student debt and no way to pay it all off when you had stumbled across the Golden Circle one night. The alcohol which had been your only company along with the numerous rejection letters, had urged you forward, into the dark interior, seeking out the manager.

That had been nearly three months ago and while the stripping had got easier the more time that passed, dealing with the constant stream of rejection letters hadn’t. Every time a new one came, a part of you died a little more. While stripping had been enough to satisfy your financial needs, it did nothing for your mental needs. You had graduated nearly top of your class and here you were, practically watching your brain cells die every time you undressed, revealing the scrap of silver that your manager called an outfit.

Tonight was no different than how any other night had started out. You stood in the changing room, glancing around at the other girls in various states of undress as the readied for their shifts. The one who was known as Kitty by the patrons sat next to you, telling some story about a date she had been on the night before.

‘I just don’t understand it. He had seemed perfectly sweet until he found out I was a stripper, then he got all mad, said I had lied to him! But I hadn’t, I never said what I did for a living and even if I had who’s he to judge, you know? It’s not like when I was little I wanted to grow up and be a stripper, but you know, shit happens sometimes and life doesn’t always go to plan.’ She sounded close to tears and you knew that if you wanted tonight to be as painless as possible you had to say something fast.

‘I mean it seems to me that he was a loser Kit, anyone who reacts that way when finding out that your trying to make an honest living doesn’t deserve your time. And to be so two-faced about the whole thing, sounds like a real red flag, acting all sweet only to be a jerk.’ You lay a comforting hand on her shoulder as you tried to cheer her up. Thankfully it worked, a small smile playing across her lips.

‘I know you’re right, deep down I do. It just hurts you know? Because it’s not just him, it’s pretty much every guy I’ve ever tried to date. When they find out I’m a stripper they get all possessive, they act like I’m fucking other guys behind they’re backs and I know it’s partially my own fault I just… I guess I just never thought it would impact me this badly you know?’ You nodded even though you couldn’t relate. Between working nearly every night and trying to keep your brain active during the days by reading recent papers on hereditary genetics, you hadn’t had very much time for friends, never mind dating.

The sound of the door crashing against the wall pulled you out of your reverie, as you glanced over at your manager, his eyes eating up the scantily clad bodies of your fellow dancers. ‘Okay girls, we’ve got some VIPs in tonight so Bubbles you’re going to be on serving now, don’t give me that look. Kitty, you’re taking Jewel’s set and Jewel you’re going to be working in the Lounge.’

‘The Lounge?’ You’d never worked there before, it generally went to the older girls, the ones who had been here for longer, who had built up a clientele, who were more used to grabby customers with cash to spare.

‘Yeah. He requested you.’ He barely spared you a glance as he left the room, heading back down the hall to his office, his words resonating around in your head as you stared at the place in the wall where his head had just been.

A request.

A feeling that somewhat resembled pride flowed through you as Kitty turned excitedly. You must’ve been doing something right all these months to get a request, in the VIP lounge no less. ‘Your first request! This is so exciting. You’re such a natural, it’s going to be so good. I hear on average girls make nearly $500 a night in tips alone in the Lounge. I wish I could work there.’ She stared off in a daze as if imagining herself walking among the plush red leather couches, dancing on the small private stage.

You tried to smile at her; tried to ignore the nerves that were crawling their way through your stomach as she left the locker room, a smile and good luck thrown over her shoulder, leaving you alone.

+

Your heart raced, eyes focussed on the rich mahogany, tracing the grain of the wood as you slowly raised your hand to the brass doorknob, shivering as you paused. The metal was cool beneath your fingertips, your grip was solid, twisting the handle until you could hear the lock click. The door was slightly heavier than usual to help soundproof the room and you nearly jumped as it swung closed behind you, trapping you in with the dark, lone figure on the smooth leather couch.

The crystal glass in his hand reflected the small amount of light that fell on him as he sat in the shadows, swirling the amber liquid around with a swivel of his wrist. ‘Well? Aren’t you meant to dance for me?’ His voice was a sarcastic drawl that snapped you into action. Your heels wobbled slightly as you made your way to the sound machine, cueing a song before heading up into the small podium.

‘I’m Jewel. What’s your name handsome?’ You hated the way your voice shook with nerves as your hips swayed, your hands running up and down your body as you slowly warmed up.

‘My name doesn’t matter but you can call me Daddy, baby girl.’ You’d heard of things like this happening in the private rooms so his words themselves didn’t really bother you but there was something about the way he said it. He was very commanding and even though you couldn’t make out much of him in the dark, you knew he would be a force to be reckoned with, a man used to getting exactly what he wants.

‘Okay Daddy, how’s your night going so far?’ You weren’t sure about the protocol of having conversations while stripping for a man but some seemed to like it and judging by the small chuckle that fell from his lips he did too.

‘It’s pretty good so far Baby girl, I have you all to myself. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.’

‘Oh?’ You heard the clink of his glass being placed down onto the small coffee table beside him as his hands ran down his legs.

‘Oh yeah Baby girl. I’ve wanted you ever since I first saw you months ago. The photo in your resume really doesn’t do you justice, and when I found out you worked here I just had to come see you in person. I couldn’t stop staring at you as you danced. I knew I had to have you. But I had to wait. I had to make sure you were a match, a perfect match for me.’

Your hips stuttered in their movements, your nerves mounting as his words washed over you. ‘My resume?’ Your voice was quiet against the smooth backdrop of your song, a whisper in the vast room. A perfect match? What did he mean by that? Was he trying to offer you a job?

‘Of course. It landed on my pile months ago, quite impressive really. You were nearly top of your class at MIT, and a PhD specialising in hereditary genetics. You’re just what I was looking for. Now come over here Baby, we need to talk shop.’

You weren’t naive enough to believe that shop was the only thing he wanted to talk about but the reflection of light off of his wrist caught your eye and you instantly recognised the small logo of his watch. A Rolex. Whoever this guy he was loaded and if you had to give him a lap dance or two to get a job for him, your morals were willing to do it if it meant paying off your bundles of student debt.

On teetering legs you crossed the small distance between you two, coming to a stop in front of him as his hands wrapped around your waist pulling you down onto him with surprising force. ‘That’s a good girl, I just know you’ll do nicely.’ At the sound of his voice, your eyes darted up from your lap, meeting his, your mouth dropping slightly open.

What was the Tony Stark doing here with you?

His fingers gently tapped your chin, pressing your lips together again. ‘I see you recognise me, that should make the next bit easier. I’m looking for a specialist in hereditary genetics to help me with a very close and personal project. It should take around nine months for completion if everything goes well and the intense hours will mean you’ll have to quit working here but you’ll be well compensated, completely taken care of. Due to the secrecy of the project I’ll need you to sign your contract and NDA right now if you choose to accept.’

He slipped a hand into his inside jacket pocket, pulling two folded pieces of paper which he handed to you. The first was an NDA, a brief scan over the details told you it was all up to par. The fact that he was making you sign it wasn’t very concerning, most labs in the city made their employees sign one to keep company secrets and so when he handed you a pen you signed your name away on the dotted line without a second thought.

The second piece of paper gave you pause though. It was a contract. Your contract.

‘You want me to move into Stark Tower?’ Your voice was soft, confused by the sprawl of words across the page.

‘It’s standard protocol for a project like this. Most of my top employees live on site.’ He waved away your concern with an air of nonchalance but you could feel the tell-tale tightening of his hands on your hips, holding you slightly closer to him.

‘And this… Project Legacy, I would be running it? I’m just a little confused in my role in it all, it’s a little vague.’ You looked up from the papers into his eyes, searching for answers but once again he waved you off.

‘Look, if you don’t want the job that’s fine. You can just walk away and go back out there and strip for those men like any common whore and I’ll go find someone else. But I’m giving you a chance to be more, to do more. Working at Stark Labs would look great on your resume but that won’t matter because if you do a good job we might just keep you on. So, are you in or out?’ His eyes seemed to burn through you as you sat on his lap, gripping the paper in one hand, his pen in the other.

Taking a steadying breath, you pressed the paper against his chest and leant against him as you signed your name on the dotted line.

‘Good choice baby girl.’

+

Tony had insisted on you quitting your job right then and there, he had said he wanted to celebrate the birth of Project Legacy and since he would be your new boss, you felt you had no choice but to comply, following him out to his car, still in your outfit as he hadn’t given you time to go back to your locker and change.

‘Don’t worry about your clothes Baby, I said you would be completely taken care of and I meant it.’

His hand had gripped your exposed thigh the entire way to Stark Tower and when you finally arrived, he had ushered you into the elevator and up to his personal floor. Before you knew it a glass of champagne was thrusted into your hands.

‘Drink up baby, I suspect it will be the last time you get a chance for a while.’ He smiled as though he had just made a funny joke but you merely stared at him in confusion, taking a tentative sip of the bubbles in your glass. ‘C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.’ He grabbed hold of your other hand and started tugging you through the lounge room and to a narrow hallway, pausing at a door with frosted glass. ‘Here it is.’

Pushing open the door, confusion flittered over you. It was by far the nicest room you had ever seen, but then again everything in this building was too. There was a small chaise lounge and settee in one corner. a door that lead to what you presumed was the bathroom and the largest wardrobe you could imagine. But what really took your attention was the king sized bed in the middle of the room. Its quilt looked to be a dark red silk and with matching sheets and pillow cases. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about your hair every night.

‘Isn’t it just marvelous? I can’t wait to see all your work for Project Legacy. It’s going to be beautiful.’ Hands snaked around your waist and he slowly walked you back towards the bed.

‘Mr Stark? Tony? What’s going on? What are you doing?’ You knees hit the back of the bed, and you felt him lift you slightly, laying you down on the silken mattress.

‘You’re on what? Day fourteen of your cycle right? It’s perfect timing for us to get started on my legacy.’

‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Terror was flooding through your veins as he slipped the thin straps of your one piece down your shoulders, pulling it from your legs, revealing your body to him.

‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’ve studied your blood, your DNA. You’re a perfect match for me. We’re going to make such beautiful children. I hope the first one’s a girl though, I’ve always wanted one.’ His explanation did little to calm your racing heart as your stared up at him.

He was mad, completely batshit crazy. That was the only way to explain what he was doing as he palmed your breasts, his gaze transfixed on your body beneath his. Your hands pressed against his chest, trying to shove his body away but he merely gathered your wrists in one hand, tugging them up above your head and pinning them there.

‘Shhh, baby. Be a good girl for me. You’ve already signed your contract, your fate is sealed. So just be a good girl and I promise I’ll make it enjoyable for you too.’ He grinned down at you, tweaking your nipple to the point of pain, a shout escaping your lips.

‘But… what about Pepper though? Don’t you want a kid with her?’ You both knew at this point that you were stalling and it was completely useless, but you cling to the sliver of celebrity gossip you could remember. Surely his girlfriend would have an issue with this.

‘What about Pepper? She’s gone, she’s useless to me. You know, she only just told me she was infertile, after almost ten years together. Who does that? And all this time I thought we had just been unlucky, but now I know. She’s just a vindictive bitch. And now with everything that’s happened with the Accords… I’ve lost most of my family, I need a new one; to make one with you. We’re going to be so good together Baby, I can already tell. You and my child growing inside of you is all I want now and I always get what I want.’

You choked back a sob as he slid a hand between your bodies, smirking at the wetness he found between your legs. ‘Oh baby girl, you’re so responsive to me. I told you we were a perfect match.’ He thrusted a finger inside, letting out a groan at the way your velvet walls clenched around him. ‘So fucking tight too I don’t think I’ll last that long; the first time at least.’

His palm rubbed against your foot with every rigorous thrust of his hand bringing you closer despite the way you tried to resist him. ‘That’s it baby girl, I know you’re close.

You felt a cool metal against your clit, juxtaposing the warm slick pooling between your legs. You weren’t sure what it was as he continued to thrust his fingers into you, curling them against your walls, stretching you out for him, yet as soon as it started vibrating, every thought disappeared.

‘Oh, Oh, god Tony.’ Your words came between your panting, you’re hips rising up into his hand involuntarily.

His hot breath was against your ear, a sharp tug of the lobe between his teeth as he whispered ‘Baby girl I thought I told you to call me Daddy.’ Your moans interrupted his words as you felt the familiar coil tightening inside of you, ready to snap. ‘Call me Daddy can I’ll let you cum baby. I know you’re ready to.’

You tried to resist the urge to do as he said with little success and before you could stop them the words tumbled from your mouth. ‘Please Daddy. Please let me cum.’

His lips brushed against yours, his smile evident even in the kiss. ‘Well, who am I to deny a pretty woman? Of course you can Baby.’ And just like that, the floodgates opened, your walls clenching around his fingers, your body thrashing against his as he worked you through the orgasm before finally slowing and letting you catch your breath. ‘Those were just my fingers, imagine what I can do with my cock.’ As if to prove his point you felt him thrust his large bludge against you, the rough denim causing a shiver to run through you as it rubbed against your sensitive clit.

He released your hands from above your head, and you rubbed them as he knelt above you, and he slowly, almost teasingly, undid the small button on his jeans, pulling the small fly down all the way, exposing a small tuft of hair leading down to his cock. You weren’t surprised to see the lack of underwear as even though you had only just met, he seemed like a straight to business type of man. He shoved the denim down his legs and knelt above you once more, one knee on either side, taking a hold of your hand and leading to it him, wrapping it around his length and pumping himself slowly.

He was warm and you found yourself flicking your thumb over his tip every few thrusts, collecting the small beads of precum as they came from him. His head was thrown back his mouth agape. ‘Oh yeah Baby, just like that. Fuck, you make me feel so good.’ Suddenly your hand was back, pinning against the mattress as his other lead himself into you in a harsh single thrust.

You cried out at the stretch of your walls, he was much thicker than his fingers. His hands found your neck, resting at the base of your throat, feeling the rapid thrum of your pulse beneath his fingers. Your own hands were wrapped tightly around his chest, pulling him closer despite your better judgement, the feeling of fullness he gave you too good to resist.

You moaned as he continually brushed that spot inside of you, stroking a deep desire inside of you. Fingertips dug into his back, clawing at the skin as he ignited the fire inside of you. ‘Fuck… Daddy, yes.’ Your voice was a whisper against the obscene sounds of him thrusting in and out of you.

‘Yeah Baby? You wanna cum? Be a good girl and cum for me, cum for Daddy. Cum on my thick cock so I can fill you up.’ You moaned against the skin of his neck, your walls fluttering around him as you came, feeling the spurt of his own release coating your channel. ‘Fuck baby girl… that was so much better than I ever could have imagined, and trust me, I’ve imagined it a lot.’ He was out of breath as he rolled over, laying on his side, still inside of you and hitched your thigh over his own.

‘I can just tell you’re going to do such a good job on this special little project future Mrs Stark.’ In your haze you barely noticed him lift your left hand, sliding a cool band down your ring finger. The diamond glittering in the dim light.

+

My Masterlist

#aw!dark!ficchallenge #tony stark #iron man #dark!Tony #dark!Tony Stark #dark tony #dark iron man #dark verse #dark mcu #mcu #marvel #one shot #honeyhan writes

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

No Judgement | peter parker x chubby!fem!reader

@juliebean247​ asked: Hii! I’m pretty new to tumblr but I’ve read most of your work and I’m in love with it all!! I dunno if you do peter x reader (if you don’t that’s ok, just ignore lmao) but maybe where we have chubby!reader who jokingly puts herself down all the time and peter just kinda snaps at her for doing it because he can’t stand the comments she makes- because he’s crushing on her...? Again- you don’t have to do this one or you can change it up!

requests are now closed

Summary: You are you, and damn you love it. Everyone knows it too, and they love you. Joking about yourself is common. But as soon as you feel down, you can’t stop but put yourself down. Sometimes harshly. And Peter can’t take it anymore.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Warnings: angsty (mention of fat shaming, insecurities), a tiny bit of language (nothing too bad) but fluff at then end 

Word Count: 1945

A/N: first time (really) writing about our Spidey boy! 🎉🕷 also I kinda take my time with writing so sorry it took me a bit 😅 but I only feel accomplished when Like what I write sooooo bare with me please? 🙄🙊 anyway! thank you for your request sweetheart, I hope you will all like this little angsty fluffy as much as I do~ 💞 AND LOVE YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL BEAUTIFUL!!! 💖💜💖💜

masterlist

To hell with all beauty standards and perfection stereotypes!

You love your body as it is, from the smallest imperfection on your face to your curves and extra skin. And needless to say you are proud to show it. But sometimes other people’s look can be harsh on you, full of judgements as they don’t even know you but any opportunity is an open door to criticism.

So you got use to it like you didn’t care, and even made fun of it. More like made fun of yourself, actually.

“Man, her legs put together are the size of one thigh of mine!” you chuckle as you eat in the cafeteria next to MJ, Peter and Ned. All the table look at who you are talking about.

MJ playfully elbows you in the waist as she drinks her glass of water. “Shush (Y/N), everyone compares Bethany as a walking chopstick anyway.”

“I knoooow” you reply with a playful tone, munching on your pasta.

“You also look like chopsticks MJ, like from head to toes. Damn girl, you could just fly away with the wind!” you giggle while trying to steal in MJ’s plate. “And I will just stick to the ground like a pole!”

Even if you are laughing at yourself, you are actually the only one. You don’t catch MJ rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh, Ned being kind of confused and Peter... well, clearly being annoyed.

“Alriiiiiight you little brat, stop talking crap ‘cause you still have to explain the last lesson to me before next class starts” grumbles MJ as she stands, her now empty tray in hand before taking it away.

“Yup girl, coming!” you announce, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin.

Peter follows each of your moves. All done eating you too stand, put your bag on your back and take your tray ready to follow MJ, who is already waiting for you near the exit of the cafeteria.

“Alright guys, see you in chemistry!” you happily sing while showing your biggest smile to the boys before leaving the table to join MJ.

The constant chattering of the students in the background hides the silent at the table. Ned finishes his yogurt before talking to Peter, but he stops himself when he notices his friend’s face. Tensed. Annoyed. And sad maybe? Ned has actually an idea of what is bothering his friend so much but knowing Peter’s personality, it would be a waste of time. Better to skirt the issue.

“(Y/N) is acting a bit weird recently, don’t you think?”

Peter only hums, more focus on mixing what is left of his yogurt than anything else right now. Head low and furrowed eyebrows, he keeps staring at actually nothing, just being lost in his thought and thinking. 

Thinking a lot, yes. About you. About how much you put yourself down way too much recently.

He can’t laugh at your cheeky comments anymore. He just can’t.

* * * *

Chemistry is your last class of the day, thanks the lords. You are finally reunited with all your three best friends so, hopefully the hours will pass by faster.

MJ writes (more like scribbles) lazily the answers for the report your duo has to give back at the end of the lesson, while you are the one having fun mixing whatever there is in the test tubes. Then you take an empty one and look through it.

“MJ, look” you whisper to your friend, trying to catch her attention. At first she doesn’t even care to turn her head towards you, until you insist by calling-whispering her name until she finally deigns to glance at you. Not really understanding what you want to show her, MJ brings her lab stool closer to you and frowns as she looks through your test tube. You brings the tube closer to both your faces.

“Look, Lara’s ass is as big as mine now” you kind of try to whisper, as well as not laughing out loud to not get reprimanded by the teacher.

In fact the glass tube deforms everything you look at when watching through it. And in that case, it is changing the shapes of your comrade’s bottom. MJ seems unimpressed and with her well-known bitch resting face, the girl simply goes back to her writings but not without sending you “are you serious?” glances.

Little did you know Peter could hear all your conversation, even three desks behind. The displeased look on his face is immediately showing and he almost breaks the pen he is using to write on the due paper. The slight crack of the plastic draws Ned’s attention.

“Dude, that’s my favourite pen!”

“Sorry, mate” grumbles Peter, putting the pen down and he sighs, leaning his elbows on the lab desk. He exhales loudly while ruffling at his hair. 

“You should talk to (Y/N), don’t you think so?” declares Ned as he takes two test tubes in his hands to deal with their contents. “You know, just to tell her how you feel and stuff like that.”

“I don’t know, man” retorts Peter with a low voice, his head now hidden in his arms. “I just- I can’t just say “hey (Y/N), stop running yourself down all the time because you are gorgeous in every way and I had a crush on you since high school and-”

“Peter stop, you’re mumbling like a freak” exclaims Ned, hoping to end his friend’s suffering. “Seriously, I noticed the face you do when she jokes about herself. I mean, maybe she’s not feeling great so you talking to her might sort things out somehow?”

Peter processes Ned’s words as his eyes follows you when you go ask something to the teacher. There is something about the kindness that emanates from your pretty eyes, the pink outline of your lips, the unique way your hair curves perfectly around your round face, but mostly your hourglass figure. Sometimes the boy finds hard to keep his eyes up. But you look so beautiful to him. That is mainly the reason why Peter can’t accept hearing you badmouthing about your appearance anymore.  

* * * *

The ringing bell announces the end of today’s lessons. Students are now filling every corridors, some going to their locker and other already leaving the building.

“I need to take some books in my locker, you coming with me MJ?” you ask your friend.

“Sorry, my mum’s picking me up ‘cause we’re going to my grandma this evening so I have to hurry” explains MJ, not too excited about the thought of it.

“I need to go to my locker too” Peter jumps into the conversation. He directly stares at you, a determined look on his face.

“Oh, uhm- alright then!” you cheer blushing a bit, still taken aback by Peter’s serious tone.

You wave goodbye at MJ and Ned as you start walking to your locker, Peter following close to you and receiving two discrete thumbs up from Ned. 

The main school corridor is now more empty, the steps of the last students resonating and almost fading little by little. You and Peter stop in front of your lockers, them being next to each other and just do your own things by taking and putting down what you need or not. Peter is more like fiddling with stuff, pretending to do something while his goal was obviously talking to you.

When he ears you zipper your backpack shut and close your locker, he violently - but not intentionally - slams his close a bit too harsh, making the loud metallic slap resonate in the empty corridor. You jump at that too and Peter just wants to facepalm himself at his own stupidity. 

“Err (Y/N), can- can we talk?” the boy mutters, now shy because of his sudden loose of confidence.

“Sure Pete, about what?”

Peter gulps as you stare at him, waiting for what he has to say. He is nervous now. How will you react? Good or bad? Will you ignore him after that talk because he offended you or misunderstood the situation? Will you-

“Peter? You’re alright?”

Your soft and worried voice suddenly takes him out of his mixed up thoughts.

“You’re gorgeous (Y/N).”

That is indeed straight to the point. Totally. First you blink a few times, not sure if you heard it right but seeing Peter’s serious face says it all. Your whole face is now blushing at his sudden compliment.

“P-PETER WHY DO YOU-”

“(Y/N), you are the most beautiful girl I know. Like in every way possible. You’re kind, smart, funny, a bit nerdy, outgoing, sometimes eccentric too but it’s part of your personality. But you’re also gorgeous in the way you dress because it shows your beautiful shapes off. You have nothing to be ashamed of in comparison to any other girl. You’re unique and I love everything about you, starting with your cheeks because they’re so round and full, but also your waist because its highlights your defined hips and I could go on and on for hours. It’s everything a boring, shy, awful and introvert guy like me loves. So please, stop putting yourself down all the time. You don’t deserve it and never you will. I don’t like that and I just want you to know that I loved you since high school and that I-”

You cut Peter off in his mumbling by putting both your hands on his mouth. When he finally stops - also remembering to breath again -, he finally notices how much your face and ears are red. You avoid looking at him, still not fully processing all the compliments and obvious declaration of love. Your heartbeats could almost break through your ribcage and your mind is a mess.

Seeing you conflicting with yourself, Peter takes your hands off his mouth and gently keep them in his. His look tries to search for yours.

“(Y/N), I’m serious about what I said. You know I’m awful with words but... Trust me when I say I love everything about you, a lot, so please love yourself as much as I do.”

After calming down a bit, you dare to look at Peter again, his eyes soft and reassuring. You are still at a loose of words because nobody said any of the beautiful things Peter just did to you. Nobody. And it warms your heart knowing that someone loves you how you are. You love it even more because you know it is Peter.

Peter squeezes your hands and with a impulse out of nowhere, he lightly pecks the corner of your mouth. He then moves his face back, smiling warmly at you.

“When you’re with me, there is no judgement (Y/N).”

“J-Jeez, Peter...” you stutter, you face still red of shyness.

“I’m walking you back home, come on” Peter mans himself up, noticing the school is completely empty with not a sound around. Detaching his hands from you, he picks your backpack up to give it to you. You take it with wobbling  hands, muttering a shy “thanks” before putting it on your back. Now ready to go, Peter extends one hand for you to take and this time, you don't have to be told twice. 

Hand in hands, fingers intertwine, you both walk through the long corridor, only you two remaining here. Peter’s warm hand reassures you in a strange way. But you like it. 

And you can’t stop the content smile growing on your face as you sneak a look at the boy who just proved you are worth it. Inside out. From head to toes.

And boy do you love this feeling.

🏷 Permanent tag list & mutuals 💖 (get notified)

@allegra-writes @tom-holland-is-spiderman @detroitbydark @blissfulparker @farfromhaz @xxtomxo @worldoftom @charismas-world  @stiles-banshees @americaxo17 @zabdisamor @princezzariel @mcuassemble @thatweirdomimic @juliebean247 @harryhollandwhore @spiderbibby @intiate03 @himynameishooman @bookworm06 @flowerboyparker @miraclesoflove @eridanuswave​ @jillanaholland @mendes-marvel @biebsmylife95 @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @tsh-darling @popbubblegumpop @fanficscuziranout

#request #peter parker #peter parker request #chubby!reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker one shot #peter parker angst #peter paker fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland oneshot #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #fluff #angst #imagine #oneshot

[catchlalune]

Original artwork here

a/n: Hello starbursts! Happy Juneteenth and I hope everyone is staying safe and still quarantining! This fic is very different from my usual works so I need to preface this in my authors note that all of the characters in the story are pretty awful. If you find yourself in any of these situations PLEASE seek help. I wrote this to highlight these issues and you should think of it much like a modern day Romeo and Juliette story (and what I mean by that is that everyone in that story was incredibly dense and really could’ve solved a lot of their issues by talking and working through things together.) Thank you to @skzctnightnight​ and @pockpop​ for actually helping me maintain my motivation for finishing writing in an actual day. (also tagging @jejublr​ )

Word Count: 3.6k 

Pairings: Lucas x Reader

Genre: Angst, CEO! Au, Arranged Marriage 

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, smut, abusive relationship (this is not between the reader and Lucas), this again is to highlight how awful people can be this is an extremely toxic scenario so please don’t read if you will be triggered. Also not proofread yet but I plan on fixing it later

This is not in any way, shape, or form meant to say that I believe Lucas is like this in the slightest. I am using his likeness to portray a completely fictional character and that is all. 

The entirety of the two years she has spent with Lucas culminates to the two of them in this moment. The sinful sounds the two of them make as skin slaps on skin. The feel of him inside her. Everything is hot and wet and passionate. As passionate as the kisses they’ve always shared. As hot as the sun on their skin as they sit and laugh in the sun, Lucas’ parents included. As wet as the rain as it pours outside, slapping on the pavement in hard droplets. 

They say that if it rains on your wedding day it means the relationship is meant to last forever. But what does it mean when it happens on a day of goodbyes? Are you fated to never say hello again? 

Whatever it means does not matter much to the two of them. Lucas is too busy coaxing his cock in and out of her to think of much other than their combined pleasure. They draw this out for as long as they possibly can. They know what will happen when they finish. But still Lucas must bring her to the apex of her pleasure, circling her throbbing bud as he stoaks the fire inside her belly. Her toes tingle, eyes shut tight and breathing ragged. Her fingers pinch and rub at her nipples until she's shaking. 

She comes undone with a sweet groan, gripping him until he releases into the condom. 

They lay there in the darkness of the night, the only illumination being the red of the alarm clock on Lucas’ bedside table. Glaringly it tells them the time but they ignore it as it looks in on them. It judges silently as the time reaches hours close enough for the sun to claw its way above civilization. They grasp for each other in the post-coituous haze. It does not matter, no matter how tightly they cling.

“I want to stay like this forever.” His whispers sound like music to her ears, the song of a siren. 

She does not answer him, anything she wants to say is caught in her throat. The memories that flood her mind hurt her before his words even can. Distinctly she remembers his mother telling her about the arranged marriage proposal from before he was even a child. Lucas doesn’t even know, she hadn’t even known up until two weeks ago. Their two year relationship had suddenly been reduced to nothing by those words. And his mother had been so casual about it, telling her as they searched for Lucas’ birthday present as if it was nothing more than an afterthought. ‘And  by the way, you will never be able to have my son. Not completely.’ 

She doesn’t realize the sobs that wrack her until Lucas pulls her close. He coos at her about how she always gets so emotional after sex. He jokes, tries to lighten the mood but nothing will quiet her mind. Not really. She knows that their graduation tomorrow means the end of this, of them. She knows she should at least tell him why, but she can’t bring herself to say the words. 

Instead she lets him hum the both of them to sleep, Lucas feeling bad about not being able to cure her of whatever ails her. She speaks to him after a brief period of rest, words hardly above the sound of the rustling of sheets. 

“Maybe we could’ve been, in another world.”

By the time he wakes the sun is just rising over the horizon, alarm clock blaring, and the bed cold. He doesn’t have to wait long to find out she is no longer with him. Some part of him feels the dread, knows something must’ve been wrong but he tries to brush it off. He does a good job of it too until he realizes he can’t reach her. Her number automatically disconnects, her things are no longer at her dorm room, and he doesn’t even catch a glimpse of her at graduation. When it is time for her to walk the stage there is a pregnant pause and the name of the graduate. He can’t imagine what must have happened to make her miss her own college graduation but he can’t even find the time to worry. Not when his parents are there and tell him the truth. 

---

“If I have to listen to another man tell me about how to run my own business I just might shoot myself in the foot.” 

Already the span of time has reached six long years. Leaving him was a decision she did not pride herself on. Some nights ended with dreams, ghosts of memories too long passed. Echoes of a time she felt safe, felt confident. Now she stands in the lobby of a convention center trying to figure out which panel would aggravate her the least. Two more long days she would have to deal with the misogyny, usually her patience wouldn’t be so thin but she hasn’t been able to sleep very well recently. She wakes up with the feel and taste of him on her. She feels dirty.

“I agree, we can do it together.” The woman-- who she hadn’t noticed-- smiles at her so brightly it makes her a bit uncomfortable. She was very pretty, the image of most men’s dreams probably. Perfectly manicured nails, long pin-straight hair, skin a milky complexion, lips a shade of pink that was not too bold and not too flirty. The woman also wears a dress she vaguely remembers seeing in a high fashion magazine not too long ago whilst waiting at the doctor's office-- in another word: expensive. She feels a bit embarrassed to have said that so loud where others could obviously hear her. It was obvious she was being watched, she was a woman in a man's world she was always being watched. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t worry about it. Your secret is safe with me!” The woman takes a moment to wink at her, she shifts on her feet still feeling a bit awkward. “My name’s Jaeun, you’re the CEO of Xuxi’s Publishing Group, correct? I’ve been trying to find you all day.” 

Jaeun launches into a story about how she’d stumbled upon her company and relaxes her enough for the two of them to have a conversation about things other than business. It had been such a long time since she had a friend and talking to Jaeun was extremely easy. Maybe it was the way she seemed so bright and bubbly, or even the way she navigated conversations with a natural grace. Whatever it was, Jaeun quickly became a staple in her life for the next two days. 

And then it all comes crashing down on her, just like the rain on that night it rains the last day of the convention. It comes down so hard it resonates within the convention center. But that’s not what she’s focused on. Jaeun had offered for her to meet her husband and his parents excitedly yesterday after talking to her about the lack of business prospects. It was supposed to be relaxed and informal but she was on absolute high alert. 

The years were kind to him in a way that she considered unfair. He was even more beautiful than the night she left him. 

“There you are! This is my husband Lucas. I showed him your business proposal and he wants to have a meeting for a merger.” 

--

It’s no more than a few days after the convention that he shows up on her doorstep in business casual attire that puts hers to shame. She’s not even sure if it was actually smart for them to be left alone together but she swallows the lump in her throat and lets in him. She offers him a plate of food that she made for their lunch but he declines. He does the same to her offer for water and coffee as well. He’s been there all of five minutes and already her palms are sweating. She almost feels silly as he tells her that she can eat, always feeling like the one taking instead of giving. 

"Do you really like her as a friend?" A strange conversation for him to start, but he needed to vet her nonetheless. 

"Yes." There is no doubt in her words, they are hard and come out leaving no room for doubt.

"Do you love and cherish her?"

"Of course I do, it's been so long since finding a friend like her." She fiddles with her fork wondering why this was being asked to her and not the other way around. 

"You know I think she loves you too. I don't know about cherish, that's a good change word. It's just that her mom is so skeptical of everyone, it's better that she doesn't get too close." 

"I know, but it doesn't change my answer. "

There's a brief pause between them before he speaks again, a small smile on his face. 

"I almost wish I was in an arranged marriage with you. I think it would be easy to fall in love. Should I just end it with her? You know I could." He says it with such conviction it makes her heart flutter. 

"Don't say things like that. Jaeun really likes you, she really wants to make it work." It almost sickened her how easy it was for him to just say those words to her. Maybe it was easy for him, but what about her friend? She was groomed her whole life for him. The way he would easily throw her away for another makes her resolve to forget the butterflies in her stomach that much stronger. 

"Let's get down to business now shall we? You came here to talk about a merger." She looks at him with her eyes and jaw set and he knows. He knows he is going to fall into her head first and drown. He knows that she is so loyal to her morals and her friendship that she would willingly let any sparks for him fizzle out and die. He knows it, and yet the beating of his heart only gets faster. 

"Let's."

She is exactly how he remembers her. And the way he remembers her is very intimate. If he closes his eyes he can faintly feel the way her body would meld perfectly against him. Lips laying kisses across the expanse of his visage. The smell of her, fresh and sweet; the smell of citrus and a hint of honey with jasmine blooms. He can still feel the way their hearts beat at each others ribcage, trying to find a way out and meld together. But they never did, and they never will. 

It has already been two weeks since their meeting and business between them is going off without a hitch. But of course that's all that is going on between them, business. She is just as intelligent and bright as she always has been and it seems if only she had been dealt a luckier hand in life her business would've surpassed his years ago. He shouldn't be but she makes it so easy to remember their summer tryst. She makes it so easy to remember how he cares for her. 

Even at the company dinner she makes it easy, she glides through the room as if on air. Her pantsuit hugs her body in all the right places. He takes note of how it makes her stand out, of the power she exudes just by making a not so orthodox outfit choice. Of course some of the men would think she was a hardass because of it, but when she saunters away with a pretty brunette and stay in the bathroom longer than socially acceptable they begin to think other things. Of course even if these things are true it's none of their business and he tells them just that. Reminding them of the company rules against harassment and intimidation. 

This doesn't stop him from waiting for her though. After another ten minutes the brunette slipping out from the bathroom a satiated look on her face Lucas is waiting. He keeps his eyes trained on the bathroom door but when he feels it's been too long he doesn't wait anymore. It is a company wide policy that most bathrooms be gender neutral and luckily this was one such one. He makes his way quietly into the single toilet, he tells himself it's just to make sure that she's okay. But when he sees the way she looks he can't help but ask her. 

"Did you have fun?" It's an innocent enough question but the implications of it are anything but innocent. 

"Are you mad?" She doesn't even startle at his presence, as if she knew he would be looking for her. It takes him a second to really be able to answer her. He thinks about it long and hard.

"I can't be mad, because I was the one that let you slip away from me." He regards her with a soft wisftfulness that makes both their hearts ache. It hurts to look at her lipstick smudged and hair disheveled when he wasn't the one who's done it. He wonders if the woman she's just hooked up with knows. 

"If I had held you longer, maybe you wouldn't have slipped out of the bed that night. We could've woken up to each other we could've-" 

"You know that's not true. Don't even pretend for a second your parents would've given up your arranged marriage." 

"We don't know that, we could've been more persistent! We could've begged." His eyes are alight, wild with all of the things he might have done to stay with her had he known it would hurt him this much. 

"No, it wouldn't have changed anything. Just like every other rich person the only thing you and your whole family value is money and power. It doesn't matter how much they liked me." The words come out of her mouth as sharp as razor blades and they cut. They cut so deep and so hot it almost makes him dizzy. He knows she doesn't mean it, she's just upset because he'd almost caused her friendship to fall through. He deserves it but just because it was true about his parents doesn't mean it was for him. 

"You don't understand how much I love you." He steps forward, tears threatening to pour down his beautiful face. She will regret her next words for the rest of her life. But she must say them even if they aren't true, even if they hinder her from happiness. 

"I understand, but it's that my understanding does not matter. Jaeun loves you." Her words echo through different times and spaces it seems. They beat at the two of them brutally. They make it hard to breathe. 

"Do you love me?" He steps closer, words falling from his lips like water from a faucet. They begin to flood the room with their intensity, the water is at their shins. She steps back. 

"Jaeun loves you." A shake of her head and the room is flooded higher, the water at their hips now. He takes another step forward. 

"Do you love me?" The words are at their chests now and she shakes her head again, tears mirroring the ones steaming down his face. 

"Jaeun loves you." He stops when she is almost against the wall but doesn't proceed forward. 

"Do you love Jaeun?" 

"I do, with all that is in me. She's been my only friend through all of this. I can't betray her." The words are at their throats now, they choke her so that her speech is airy and labored. They press at her chest. He knew that he would drown in her, he just didn't realize he would never be saved. 

"But loving me, you already have." He steps away and she can already breathe better when her senses aren't so full of him. 

"I never said-" 

"You didn't have to." The smile he gives her is preposterously solemn for such a wide showcase of his teeth. 

"Jaeun loves you." She whispers back to him, head bowed and eyes looking at the shiny leather of his shoes. 

"I know, but I love you. " He turns away from her and begins his exit and subsequently his descent into madness. Every step he takes from her causes her to fall just a bit closer to the floor, by the time he is gone she is already on her knees gasping for air. 

Jaeun waits for him outside the room with an eerily stoic face. He knows she has heard everything but he doesn't care, he hopes she wants a divorce but to his surprise she offers him her usual smile. Normally he'd think it was full of charm but her words...her very words tell him she was simply a snake all along. 

"Let's go home, I'll help you forget about her." 

They were so caught up in the turmoil of their relationship they hadn't even seen the signs. The seeds that Jaeun had sowed. And now, they played right into her hand. But for her sake, he'd do everything to make sure she wouldn't find out.

"I don't need or want whatever it is you're offering me. What I want is for you to get the fuck away from me." His words come out scathing, he puts every bit of malice he can into each and every letter. But it just makes Jaeun laugh, she then fixes him with a look so sinister it almost makes him shiver. 

"Don't be silly. The second the two of you got together there was already a due date on your relationship. You were never meant to be forever, there was a deadline and it ended exactly when I decided it to. Really it's your fault for ever getting involved with her in the first place." She ends it with a sneer marring her pretty features and so loud he hushes her fearing that his lover might hear. 

"Is it really my fault?" The thought seems ludicrous to him but all Jaeun needs is that inch of doubt in his voice to take it a full mile. 

"Of course it is baby, you're just as awful as I am. But it's okay, I forgive you." He lets her pull him away after that, head so clouded with her words he can barely manage to walk correctly. It was true, he knew he was getting an arranged marriage and his parents knew but still he…

He would make sure that she'd be happy anyway he could even if it meant being in a relationship with Jaeun. 

The years spread between them like a desert, sands of time speeding up and slowing down in frequent intervals that they can't change though sometimes they wish they could. Lucas' marriage to Jaeun is nothing more than a facade and his deserves an Oscar for his performance every time she comes around. Sometimes he wonders why Jaeun keeps her if she doesn't really see her as a friend but then remembers that Jaeun is cruel and enjoys watching the two of them pine. Whenever he kisses Jaeun he feels her lips ghosting across his own. Whenever he touches Jaeun he feels her skin soft and supple. Whenever he fucks Jaeun he really wishes he could make love to her. And whenever he sees their daughter though he loves her to death, he wishes her mother was another woman. He especially wishes it when she comes around to babysit. 

Jaeun takes her cruelty to a whole new degree when she begins to ask her "friend" to babysit for her. 'She's just so tired and Lucas is always so busy.' And it isn't entirely a lie, but Lucas had long since been working from home just to be able to catch a glimpse of her in passing. He didn't think his heart could ache more but it does the moment he hears it. He watches from around the corner to the kitchen, peering in and spying like a shadow.

"Mommy can we have chicken for lunch?" His daughter had just begun to learn how to enunciate her words better. Four years old and Jaeun had hardly stepped in to care for the child, she wasn't a mother any more than she was a wife this much was evident from their daughters words. 

"I'm not your mommy darling, you can call me auntie though." She bends down to pat Jisoo on the head. Eyes tender with a longing she could not put into words. 

"But you act like a mommy, can't you be my mommy? Can we please have chicken?" The four year old pouts up at her, Lucas nearly swoons. Everyone knows that it's true, even the maid and butler agreed she was a much better fit for Jaeun at motherhood. But secrets should never be uttered aloud. 

"We can have chicken Jisoo, but you can't keep calling me that. At least not in front of everyone." Jisoo lights up at the prospect of some kind of compromise. 

"Does that mean I can still call you mommy?" She hushes the child and leans in close to her. Lucas has to strain to hear the words that come from her. 

"Yes, but only when we're alone and you have to be very quiet. It'll be our little secret, promise?" She holds out her pinky for Jisoo to wrap her smaller one around. 

Lucas returns to his office with a smile on his face, something he'd not worn in such a long time the staff gave him strange looks, whispers of rumors beginning. It made no difference to him, he'd just been so happy to keep their secret safe. A secret made for two. 

#wayv scenarios #wayv smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #lucas scenarios #lucas smut #xuxi scenarios #xuxi smut #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop angst #wayv angst #nct angst #nct wayv #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: manipulation #tw: abusive relationship