#divisive world tour | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gallusrostromegalus · 2 months

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You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #Bleach Fanfic #renji abarai #sosuke aizen #gin ichimaru #mayuri kurotsuchi #shuuhei hisagi #the moon landing #And THAT's why the moon is fucked up in spirit world!#long post

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

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Amazon’s financial shell game let it create an “impossible” monopoly

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then San Francisco (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

For the pro-monopoly crowd that absolutely dominated antitrust law from the Carter administration until 2020, Amazon presents a genuinely puzzling paradox: the company's monopoly power was never supposed to emerge, and if it did, it should have crumbled immediately.

Pro-monopoly economists embody Ely Devons's famous aphorism that "If economists wished to study the horse, they wouldn’t go and look at horses. They’d sit in their studies and say to themselves, ‘What would I do if I were a horse?’":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/27/economism/#what-would-i-do-if-i-were-a-horse

Rather than using the way the world actually works as their starting point for how to think about it, they build elaborate models out of abstract principles like "rational actors." The resulting mathematical models are so abstractly elegant that it's easy to forget that they're just imaginative exercises, disconnected from reality:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/03/all-models-are-wrong/#some-are-useful

These models predicted that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power. Even if they became a monopoly – in the sense of dominating sales of various kinds of goods – the company still wouldn't get monopoly power.

For example, if Amazon tried to take over a category by selling goods below cost ("predatory pricing"), then rivals could just wait until the company got tired of losing money and put prices back up, and then those rivals could go back to competing. And if Amazon tried to keep the loss-leader going indefinitely by "cross-subsidizing" the losses with high-margin profits from some other part of its business, rivals could sell those high margin goods at a lower margin, which would lure away Amazon customers and cut the supply lines for the price war it was fighting with its discounted products.

That's what the model predicted, but it's not what happened in the real world. In the real world, Amazon was able use its access to the capital markets to embark on scorched-earth predatory pricing campaigns. When diapers.com refused to sell out to Amazon, the company casually committed $100m to selling diapers below cost. Diapers.com went bust, Amazon bought it for pennies on the dollar and shut it down:

https://www.theverge.com/2019/5/13/18563379/amazon-predatory-pricing-antitrust-law

Investors got the message: don't compete with Amazon. They can remain predatory longer than you can remain solvent.

Now, not everyone shared the antitrust establishment's confidence that Amazon couldn't create a durable monopoly with market power. In 2017, Lina Khan – then a third year law student – published "Amazon's Antitrust Paradox," a landmark paper arguing that Amazon had all the tools it needed to amass monopoly power:

https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox

Today, Khan is chair of the FTC, and has brought a case against Amazon that builds on some of the theories from that paper. One outcome of that suit is an unprecedented look at Amazon's internal operations. But, as the Institute for Local Self-Reliance's Stacy Mitchell describes in a piece for The Atlantic, key pieces of information have been totally redacted in the court exhibits:

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/02/amazon-profits-antitrust-ftc/677580/

The most important missing datum: how much money Amazon makes from each of its lines of business. Amazon's own story is that it basically breaks even on its retail operation, and keeps the whole business afloat with profits from its AWS cloud computing division. This is an important narrative, because if it's true, then Amazon can't be forcing up retail prices, which is the crux of the FTC's case against the company.

Here's what we know for sure about Amazon's retail business. First: merchants can't live without Amazon. The majority of US households have Prime, and 90% of Prime households start their ecommerce searches on Amazon; if they find what they're looking for, they buy it and stop. Thus, merchants who don't sell on Amazon just don't sell. This is called "monopsony power" and it's a lot easier to maintain than monopoly power. For most manufacturers, a 10% overnight drop in sales is a catastrophe, so a retailer that commands even a 10% market-share can extract huge concessions from its suppliers. Amazon's share of most categories of goods is a lot higher than 10%!

What kind of monopsony power does Amazon wield? Well, for one thing, it is able to levy a huge tax on its sellers. Add up all the junk-fees Amazon charges its platform sellers and it comes out to 45-51%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Competitive businesses just don't have 45% margins! No one can afford to kick that much back to Amazon. What is a merchant to do? Sell on Amazon and you lose money on every sale. Don't sell on Amazon and you don't get any business.

The only answer: raise prices on Amazon. After all, Prime customers – the majority of Amazon's retail business – don't shop for competitive prices. If Amazon wants a 45% vig, you can raise your Amazon prices by a third and just about break even.

But Amazon is wise to that: they have a "most favored nation" rule that punishes suppliers who sell goods more cheaply in rival stores, or even on their own site. The punishments vary, from banishing your products to page ten million of search-results to simply kicking you off the platform. With publishers, Amazon reserves the right to lower the prices they set when listing their books, to match the lowest price on the web, and paying publishers less for each sale.

That means that suppliers who sell on Amazon (which is anyone who wants to stay in business) have to dramatically hike their prices on Amazon, and when they do, they also have to hike their prices everywhere else (no wonder Prime customers don't bother to search elsewhere for a better deal!).

Now, Amazon says this is all wrong. That 45-51% vig they claim from business customers is barely enough to break even. The company's profits – they insist – come from selling AWS cloud service. The retail operation is just a public service they provide to us with cross-subsidy from those fat AWS margins.

This is a hell of a claim. Last year, Amazon raked in $130 billion in seller fees. In other words: they booked more revenue from junk fees than Bank of America made through its whole operation. Amazon's junk fees add up to more than all of Meta's revenues:

https://s2.q4cdn.com/299287126/files/doc_financials/2023/q4/AMZN-Q4-2023-Earnings-Release.pdf

Amazon claims that none of this is profit – it's just covering their operating expenses. According to Amazon, its non-AWS units combined have a one percent profit margin.

Now, this is an eye-popping claim indeed. Amazon is a public company, which means that it has to make thorough quarterly and annual financial disclosures breaking down its profit and loss. You'd think that somewhere in those disclosures, we'd find some details.

You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. Amazon's disclosures do not break out profits and losses by segment. SEC rules actually require the company to make these per-segment disclosures:

https://scholarship.law.stjohns.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=3524&context=lawreview#:~:text=If%20a%20company%20has%20more,income%20taxes%20and%20extraordinary%20items.

That rule was enacted in 1966, out of concern that companies could use cross-subsidies to fund predatory pricing and other anticompetitive practices. But over the years, the SEC just…stopped enforcing the rule. Companies have "near total managerial discretion" to lump business units together and group their profits and losses in bloated, undifferentiated balance-sheet items:

https://www.ucl.ac.uk/bartlett/public-purpose/publications/2021/dec/crouching-tiger-hidden-dragons

As Mitchell points you, it's not just Amazon that flouts this rule. We don't know how much money Google makes on Youtube, or how much Apple makes from the App Store (Apple told a federal judge that this number doesn't exist). Warren Buffett – with significant interest in hundreds of companies across dozens of markets – only breaks out seven segments of profit-and-loss for Berkshire Hathaway.

Recall that there is one category of data from the FTC's antitrust case against Amazon that has been completely redacted. One guess which category that is! Yup, the profit-and-loss for its retail operation and other lines of business.

These redactions are the judge's fault, but the real fault lies with the SEC. Amazon is a public company. In exchange for access to the capital markets, it owes the public certain disclosures, which are set out in the SEC's rulebook. The SEC lets Amazon – and other gigantic companies – get away with a degree of secrecy that should disqualify it from offering stock to the public. As Mitchell says, SEC chairman Gary Gensler should adopt "new rules that more concretely define what qualifies as a segment and remove the discretion given to executives."

Amazon is the poster-child for monopoly run amok. As Yanis Varoufakis writes in Technofeudalism, Amazon has actually become a post-capitalist enterprise. Amazon doesn't make profits (money derived from selling goods); it makes rents (money charged to people who are seeking to make a profit):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Profits are the defining characteristic of a capitalist economy; rents are the defining characteristic of feudalism. Amazon looks like a bazaar where thousands of merchants offer goods for sale to the public, but look harder and you discover that all those stallholders are totally controlled by Amazon. Amazon decides what goods they can sell, how much they cost, and whether a customer ever sees them. And then Amazon takes $0.45-51 out of every dollar. Amazon's "marketplace" isn't like a flea market, it's more like the interconnected shops on Disneyland's Main Street, USA: the sign over the door might say "20th Century Music Company" or "Emporium," but they're all just one store, run by one company.

And because Amazon has so much control over its sellers, it is able to exercise power over its buyers. Amazon's search results push down the best deals on the platform and promote results from more expensive, lower-quality items whose sellers have paid a fortune for an "ad" (not really an ad, but rather the top spot in search listings):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute

This is "Amazon's pricing paradox." Amazon can claim that it offers low-priced, high-quality goods on the platform, but it makes $38b/year pushing those good deals way, way down in its search results. The top result for your Amazon search averages 29% more expensive than the best deal Amazon offers. Buy something from those first four spots and you'll pay a 25% premium. On average, you need to pick the seventeenth item on the search results page to get the best deal:

https://scholarship.law.bu.edu/faculty_scholarship/3645/

For 40 years, pro-monopoly economists claimed that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power over buyers and sellers. Today, Amazon exercises that power so thoroughly that its junk-fee revenues alone exceed the total revenues of Bank of America. Amazon's story – that these fees barely stretch to covering its costs – assumes a nearly inconceivable level of credulity in its audience. Regrettably – for the human race – there is a cohort of senior, highly respected economists who possess this degree of credulity and more.

Of course, there's an easy way to settle the argument: Amazon could just comply with SEC regs and break out its P&L for its e-commerce operation. I assure you, they're not hiding this data because they think you'll be pleasantly surprised when they do and they don't want to spoil the moment.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/01/managerial-discretion/#junk-fees

Image: Doc Searls (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/docsearls/4863121221/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year

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i’m so in love that i might stop breathing.

i want to brainwash you into loving me forever, i want to transport you to somewhere the culture’s clever, confess my truth in swooping, sloping, cursive letters.

Eddie Munson is signed to a big-name label, one that monitors every move their artists make. The label practically runs half of LA, with so many artists under contract that Eddie’s not really sure how they can even keep track, let alone micro-manage every single one of them. But somehow they do it.

Eddie’s in the hard rock and metal division. Very rarely does he have to cross paths with artists outside of his genre. It’s not really an issue. It’s not like he’s going to collaborate with some bubblegum pink pop princess.

But then the label decides that they need to cross-market some of their artists. They’ve got lots of big names and Eddie’s on tour for his fourth studio album. He’s established, already done a world tour that was so successful the label had wanted to send him back out almost immediately, but he’d pushed back, asking for some time to write. So it’s been two years, but he’s written some of his best songs to date and the arenas are selling out.

Eddie’s so successful that the label decides that they’re going to pair him with some new up-and-coming singer-songwriter duo. The label wants at least one song, but hopes are high that Eddie will take them out as an opener for the last leg of the tour. Eddie’s given their EP a listen; he can’t really imagine that his demographic will ever overlap with theirs, but if this it what the label wants, then who is he to deny them?

It’s a sunny afternoon in LA when Eddie meets Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley at his favorite coffee shop downtown. It’s a safe place for celebrities, with a hidden back entrance and tinted windows, so he’s fairly certain they won’t be caught out together. Eddie’s ordered some lavender honey oat milk latte, something he would never admit to liking in a million years, but it tastes so good he makes the trip here at least three times a week. He’s sitting in a secluded corner, far enough from the windows that he won’t feel nervous, and he’s still got his sunglasses on, just in case.

He spots Robin and Steve almost immediately. They’re hard to miss, both beautiful and sun-kissed, smiling wide as they bicker before they both stop to look around the space.

“Hi!” Robin exclaims when she spots him, rushing over to his table. She grabs his hand between both of hers before he’s even had the chance to offer it to her and pumps it up and down a few times, like they’re shaking hands.

“Rob,” Steve mutters, placing a hand on her shoulder. Then, he turns his blinding smile on Eddie. Eddie had never believed in that whole ‘heart skipping a beat’ thing before but… he feels something happening in that region. “Sorry about her, she’s, like, a huge fan.” He offers his own hand to Eddie and they shake, the brush of skin on skin leaving Eddie just a little breathless, before Steve pulls out a chair and drops into it.

“Ugh, don’t make me sound like some creepy stalker, dingus.” Robin puts her hand on her hips. “What do you want?”

“Uh,” Steve squints at the menu before glancing down at the cup Eddie’s got between his hands. “What’d you get?” He directs the question at Eddie. Eddie tells him, only a little sheepish about it, and Steve smiles again. Eddie’s skin starts to feel itchy, too tight at his collarbones. “That sounds good. I’ll have that,” he tells Robin and she turns to head toward the counter, mumbling about having to order girly drinks.

Once they’re alone, Eddie slides his sunglasses off his face and up into his hair. He clears his throat before looking up into Steve’s face. Their eyes meet and something… happens. Something electric, something pulled taut between them. Eddie feels it and he’s pretty sure Steve does, too, judging by the way his lips part and his tongue darts out to wet them, quick and nervous. Eddie can’t stop staring. Neither can Steve.

Robin comes back with her hands full and glances between them. “Everything alright?” She asks slowly, cautiously, and their gazes finally snap away from each other, a blush rising in Steve’s cheeks.

Steve looks back into Eddie’s eyes like he just can’t help himself. Like he wouldn’t want to look anywhere else. “Yeah,” he says smiling. “Everything’s great.”

~*~

Eddie agrees to take them out on tour with him. The minute he saw Steve Harrington in the flesh, he knew he’d be taking them, but Robin turns out to be pretty cool too. He warns them that his fans can be pretty intense, that he can’t imagine they’ll be all that pleased with the kind of music the duo plays, but Robin and Steve assure him that they’re really just looking for some tour experience more than anything else. They’ll figure out the songwriting on the road, collaborate in a way that will bridge the gap between their style and Eddie’s.

When he gets home later that night, after a detour back to the label’s offices, Eddie can’t help but insta-stalk. He looks up Robin’s page first, upholding the pretense of ‘market research’ even in the privacy of his own mind. Most of her pictures include Steve and so it’s easy to be led away to Steve’s profile. It’s a natural progression. Totally normal.

Steve is… extremely cute. That’s usually not a word that Eddie would apply to someone he’s interested in—he tends to prefer the leather and chains variety much more than the sugary sweet type—but for some reason Eddie’s left breathless this time. He scrolls down Steve’s page, sees a picture of him with a herd of kids climbing on his back, another of him and Robin in matching sailor costumes. He hits the follow button without giving it too much thought and then slides back to his own page. Eddie is notoriously private, Instagram page consisting of only professional and promotional shots of him on tour with his band or in the studio recording. It’s not that Eddie is hiding anything, but he knows enough to know that the more you open up, the more that can be taken from you. He knows enough to know that the metal community can be somewhat closed-minded about some things, so he prefers to hide his personal life away, to keep some things precious and secret.

He wonders what Steve would think of his page, if he were to scroll through it. He wonders what it would be like to be open and honest about his personal life, about loving someone. What it would be like to not have to worry about losing fans, losing sales, losing bookings. To not worry about what the public would think of him.

He sighs and places his phone face down on his bedside table before turning out the light and drifting off to sleep.

~*~

Steve and Robin have been on tour with Eddie for two months and Eddie is almost positive that he’s falling in love with Steve. It was one thing to listen to Steve sing on their EP. It’s something totally different to watch Steve perform, to see his fingers slide up and down his guitar, the notes and his voice melancholy sweet. Eddie thinks almost anyone would fall in love with Steve if they’d just pay attention.

They haven’t done anything. Nothing has happened. But the green rooms and the tour busses have been full of lingering looks and soft brushes of skin. He’s pretty sure that Robin is close to saying something, clearly irritated by their pining. But Eddie’s still unsure. He knows it’s a lot, being on tour and in close quarters for the first time. It’s complicated and he doesn’t want to jeopardize Steve’s first big break. He doesn’t want to distract him. It’s easy to get caught up on tour, to mistake proximity for real feelings. It had happened to Eddie before; he didn’t want it to happen to Steve now.

Because this is a big deal, for Robin and Steve. Eddie had been unsure about taking them on, but, surprisingly, Eddie’s fans had embraced the duo. Their songwriting methods had complimented each other in a way Eddie hasn’t experienced since he first started writing with Gareth and the three of them had written five songs together already. Eddie would pull them both onstage halfway through his set to perform at least two of them and then again for one during the encore. The crowd went wild every time.

It’s the last night of tour when the space between them finally snaps in two. It’s the encore, they’re playing Eddie’s favorite of the five songs they’ve written together. They’ve made it through the complicated bridge, the final chorus, and now they’re closing out the last verse. The energy between Steve and Eddie practically crackles, almost visible under the harsh arena lights. Adrenaline is pumping, making Eddie feel invincible, and he can tell that Steve feels it too by the way he smiles across the stage at him. The final notes ring out and Eddie can’t help himself. He grabs for the strap of Steve’s guitar and pulls. Steve falls into Eddie’s chest, laughing, eyebrows raised, and Eddie can’t even think. His lips crash into Steve’s and it’s magical. Better than Eddie ever even dreamed it would be.

There’s a roaring in his ears as Eddie pulls back, reluctant. Steve’s eyes are still closed and he tries to follow Eddie’s mouth with his own, but Eddie laughs and gives him a little shake. Eddie glances around and realizes that the roaring he’d heard was the crowd going absolutely wild, screaming and cheering and clapping. Eddie looks back at Steve, who’s looking just a little dazed, blush on his cheeks and dopey smile on his lips. Robin’s screaming into her microphone, jumping up and down, egging the crowd on. Steve looks around the arena, still smiling, before looking back at Eddie and mouthing something in his direction. It’s too loud, Eddie can’t hear him over the crowd, so he shakes his head just a little. Steve tries again but Eddie still can’t hear him, so he raises his microphone to his lips.

“Finally,” Steve practically shouts, voice ringing out across the cavernous space. “Thought you’d never take the hint.”

All Eddie can do is laugh and pull Steve in for another kiss as the crowd continues cheering.

@grtwdsmwhr gave me “i want to brainwash you into loving me forever” and this is what I came up with i guess

#i wrote this so quick on my phone so pls pls pls forgive me for everything!!!!!!#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #taylor swift inspired Steddie

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bluemari23 · 5 months

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lemon tart | choi seungcheol

summary: a new cafe for a much needed date brings out tons of giggles and plenty of kisses

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: soulmate, soulmate au, fluff, established relationship

warnings: none really, mentions of an awful supervisor,

word count: .8k

masterlist

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“Right this way please.” The hostess began walking to the right, leading you and your soulmate to the table reserved for you both.

It was a long day coming, having had trouble trying to find the time between both of your jobs to have a much needed date. You worked at his company, but that still didn’t mean you always got to be with him.

Seungcheol had been having a lot of practices and rehearsals recently at the stadium, making sure everything was perfect for the first concert of their world tour coming up. It would be the first tour since covid, and him and his entire group were beyond excited and ready to perform and see their fans again.

When you get to the table, Seungcheol moves to your seat, pulling it out for you to sit in.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” You grin up at him as he pushes your chair in, slightly tugging on your hair teasingly as he does so.

“You are most welcome, my dear.” He goes along with your playful attitude, his own grin prominent against his cheeks as he does a posh sort of accent. He sat down and you both ordered your drinks, ignoring the weird look from the hostess at your playful attitudes.

“Shua says they have really good lemonade here.” Cheol says offhandedly as you both read over the menu. Joshua had been to the small cafe before with his soulmate and recommended it to you because of your love of lemon. The cafe seemed to be known for their lemon treats and lemonade.

“We’ll have to try some then!” You exclaim, looking over all of the different lemon flavored treats.

In the end, you ordered a plate of little lemon cakes and tarts to share and he ordered a sandwich plate to share.

While you waited for your food, you both sipped a little on your drinks. The lemonade was sweet and a little tart, the perfect drink for the little date you had together.

“I think you should come on tour with us.” Cheol breaks the fun atmosphere with a serious suggestion. It had been on both of your minds lately that you should go on the world tour with them.

Neither of you wanted to be away from each other for long, but all the company policy on soulmates states is that you need at least a couple days every couple weeks to bond and keep the soulbond healthy. It didn’t specify anything about being allowed on tour with them.

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed to, Cheol.” You repeat the same thing every time this conversation comes up. You had pretty much given up on going with the boys. Your supervisor seemed to laugh every time you brought up the suggestion and refused to bring it up to any of his bosses.

“Well, what if I said I talked to your division head personally? I know that jerk of a supervisor won’t do anything.” He was right, your supervisor thought it was hilarious that you had a soulmate, finding you incapable of anything and thought your soulbond was a huge joke.

“I would ask you what he said?” Your voices pitches at the end of your sentence, confusion lingering in your tone as you raise an eyebrow at your soulmate.

You wait somewhat impatiently as your soulmate takes a sip of his lemonade, slowly breaking out into laughter as he catches the look of disbelief on your face at his teasing.

“Then, my lovely soulmate, I would tell you that we need to start packing suitcases for you.” Your eyes widen in shock, wondering how long your soulmate had kept this little surprise from you.

Ignoring everything around you, you surge forward and capture Cheol’s lips with your own, catching your older soulmate off guard. He was swift in his reflexes though, catching you and holding cupping your cheek with one hand as the other goes to steady you against him.

In your excitement you almost knock the lemonade out of his hand before he quickly placed it back on the table.

“Wow baby. If this is how you react to going on tour, I wonder how many kisses I get when I tell you we get to go to your home city.” Cheol’s guess would have been wrong either way, because you both lost count to how many excited kisses you placed on his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and his nose.

You hadn’t been to your home city in a couple of years, and it would be the first time for Seungcheol to go as your soulmate. You were beyond excited with your soulmate.

After pulling back and sitting back in your chair, your face was flushed and your lips were swollen. Not even the tartness of the lemon in your cake could make you lose the smile on your lips.

#choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #svt scoups #svt #scoups #scoups soulmate #soulmates #soulmate au #seventeen imagines #seventeen #svt scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen soulmate au #fluff #bluemari23

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eldesperadont · 1 year

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hello and welcome to the start of my rough Despe/Hiromu recap essay! I'll go over their history in relation to one another. A big reason for this recap is to explain my fascination with the 10+ year long history of these characters, and why I, a queer person, is so drawn to it — this post will include links, spoilers and cover the first 9 years of their careers. If you have corrections or additional infos pls DM me!!

egg, (2010-2012)

Hiromu Takahashi and El Desperado started their pro wrestling training around the same time in NJPWs dojo – both passing NJPW's entry exam in 2009 and training for roughly a year till they officially debuted in 2010.

Desperado in March under his real name, Mikami Kyōsuke, and Hiromu later in August. And here we already have some key moments:

Takahashi's professional debut was a singles match against Mikami. (its on YouTube btw)

Despe's first ever singles victory was defeating Hiromu in said debut match.

Mikami is older and ahead of Takahashi, going on to have an impressive winning record over Hiromu, who only managed to get a sole victory over Despe during their time together as students. (two if you count in a dark match)

Hiromu genuinely struggled a lot as a Young Lion (dojo trainee), having been close to giving up on wrestling if it weren’t for main roster wrestler Tetsuya Naito, who took him under his wing.

So yeah starting off Despe had the upper hand.

This part of their career is the hardest to research given that 1.) the language barrier was way higher a decade ago, 2.) there straight up is barely any footage. So instead, I want to explain the emotional importance of the NJPW dojo background:

The time as Young Lions in NJPW is kayfabe canon. These guys are rivals but also teammates, live and train together, fight with/and each other, cheer each other on in their bouts with the seniors, carry each other to the back when they once again got beaten – these guys are close, they have to, it's them against the world.

And that is the case for pretty much all the homegrown NJPW talent. This system provides feuds with an emotional core; why would someone who was that close be so cruel to each other now? What turns brothers, best friends, partners into enemies? So much room for juicy rivalries with a real weight behind it, after all we watched these guys grow and learn, saw their highs and lows.

Also on a less serious note it's simply amusing to watch old stuff and see two guys that will be bitter rivals, who’s matches will get praise and awards - tag together in mostly fruitless efforts, stumble behind the curtain together and be so clueless about all the greatness they’ll achieve one day thanks to each others hard work.

Young Lions my beloved <3

oceans apart, (2012-2016)

As is custom with most Young Lions both went on excursion: Mikami graduating first, in 2012, and working in Mexico for a year as "Namajague" - Hiromu leaving Japan the year Desperado debuts on the New Japan main roster, in 2014, touring in Mexico and the US as "Kamaitachi" till August 2016.

Both worked in CMLL as heels, as is custom for foreign trainees, starting as masked wrestlers, loosing them in a stipulation match, and also getting their hair shaved at some point.

Here you have unmasked Namajague, who went on to rock a half facepaint look and had half of his hair bleached (in 2014, a trendsetter)

and here you got a young unmasked Kamaitachi (yes he was in a team with Christopher Daniels and Frankie Kazarian in RoH)

These are the years Mikami and Hiromu don’t interact in canon, but in an 2020 interview Desperado confessed that he kept an eye on Takahashi during the latter's excursion, cause of his success in Middle/North America and spectacular matches with Dragon Lee.

Love confessions, (May - June 2018)

Their rivalry was fully rekindled in the “Best of the Super Juniors 25” tournament, so let’s set the scene:

Takahashi’s successful: having won the most important championship for their weight division in his first year on the main roster. He’s beloved by fans and critics and a valuable member of his mentor's faction, Los Ingobernables de Japon.

El Desperado is struggling: unsuccessfully having fought for singles titles several times in the last couple of years. His only championship victories so far having been in the tag division, after joining Suzuki-gun, a shady group that tolerates him, but not without hurdles. The masked man debuted in 2013 as a cheerful honourable guy, but by now he was just a bitter, sinister bastard.

They will have their first singles meeting in 6 years, and their first on the main roster.

They are winking and nodding towards the fact that Desperado already has several wins over the younger guy, but do not address who Despy really is - officially Mikami Kyōsuke hasn’t wrestled in New Japan ever since he left for Mexico.

Leading up to the BOSJ Hiromu made a booklet in which he describes all of his possible opponents, Desperado's page is kept blank at first, but later Takahashi adds “I know who you are, and I hate you.”

Despy wants to impress Hiromu. He was one half of the IWGP Jr. Tag champs at that point and took both belts with him to the ring - he's also wearing a special mask, that is mostly white, a colour Japanese wrestlers tend to only wear on special occasions/in big matches.

A lot has changed since they last fought 1 on 1 - except one thing: Hiromu cannot beat Desperado.

Both didn’t shy away from using dirty tricks, but in the end Despy has the upper hand once more. As his opponent lays defeated in the ring the masked menace has this to say:

(postmatch promo) (the match)

Hiromu will go on to win the tournament and IWGP Jr. Heavyweight belt from Will Ospreay at the 2018 Dominion show, but the loss to his fellow former Young Lion means that the latter has the right to challenge him, and so he does, in this now infamous promo.

please watch the whole thing: link

(funfact, this happened the same night Kenny won the IWGP Heavyweight Title with Ibushi in his corner, the gays were EATING that day, in pride month no less)

Leading up to their confrontation Hiromu would post a video on his twitter playing the 'love me/not' flower game, landing on "he loves me" - which promptly makes him eat the flower in frustration

On the day of their match, June 18 2018, he brings Desperado a present:

A bouquet in a guitar case, a cruel call back to Desperados main roster debut back in early 2014: after Kota Ibushi won the IWGP Jr. Heavyweight belt at Wrestle Kingdom 8 a masked stranger approached the ring with a guitar case, revealing it to carry a bouquet of black roses for the freshly crowned champ (who was a lil confused by the whole situation)

It was the start of Despes unsuccessful run as a face and partnership with Ibushi (which you can read as the first man he tried to pursue).

The masked lad wasn't that fond of Hiromu bringing back old memories.

Their match is an all out war, both using underhanded tactics to keep the other one down, including Hiromu unmasking Despy, who shockingly doesn’t care at all - which is a huge deal, I'm going to quote Japanese NJPW commentator Milano here because he said it best:

“To a masked wrestler that’s your identity. It’s everything. But Desperado has it ripped off and then just puts it on like he was fixing his necktie. He was saying that this very essence of himself wasn’t as important as Hiromu or the belt." (translation by Chris Charlton)

But in the end Hiromu is victorious, finally ending his losing streak. After the match he has some interesting things to say:

(postmatch promo) (the match)

Life’s a b*tch. (mid 2018 - late 2019)

Hiromu's next title defence is in August 2018 in the USA against Dragon Lee, a match I still haven't been able to watch and probably never will. Due to a messed up move from his opponent, Hiromu lands hard on his neck, breaking it in the process. He somehow managed to finish the match but collapsed backstage, immediately being rushed to a hospital.

In the documentary RED HEADED REVIVAL Hiromu shared that he knew right away that something was wrong – he saw his life flash before his eyes and feared that this is the end of his career, but he decided against stopping the fight:

It took Hiromu over a year to fully recover.

That wasn't the only unfortunate incident though: in spring of 2019 Desperado broke his jaw in a deathmatch against his idol Jun Kasai. The timing couldn't have been worse: the highly anticipated BOSJ Tournament for that year being just about to start. Despe had to withdraw mere days before its opening.

Neither of them would make a return till late 2019. And their next actual confrontation wouldn’t be till 2020.

It was a sad time to be a fan of either - with Hiromu we didn't know till his return if he will even be able to wrestle again. And with Despy we had to witness fans being unnecessarily rude to him, ridiculing him about doing a deathmatch in the first place, eventho the injury could have occurred in any type of match. (if I remember correctly, Desperado even deleted his twitter due to the fan backlash)

BUT I'm gonna end this post on a good note:

1.) Despy's return marked the start of a new era for him:

He wasn't gonna apologise, he broke his jaw, so what? Shit happens. He wasn't going to pretend that the situation didn't happen either tho, hell - Despe returned in a shirt covered in blood spots, making direct references to the match he got injured in. (sth he talked about in this video) And his mask? Dons a fractured jawbone now, the cracks filled in with gold - reminiscent of kintsugi, a Japanese method for repairing broken ceramics with a special lacquer mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. The philosophy behind the technique is to recognize the history of the object and to visibly incorporate the repair into the new piece instead of disguising it.

2.) Hiromu wasn't giving up on his way of life either, making a spectacular return - the best was yet to come. Individually and together/against each other.

Stay tuned for the next part, that will absolutely also take me ages to finally put out, I'm apologising in advance,, anyways thx bye!! <3 👹🐱

#el desperado #hiromu takahashi #percht.txt #wrestling thoughts tm #🐱👹#njpw #desperomu #namajague #kamaitachi #mikami kyosuke

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freddiemercurylegendabovelegends · 3 months

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March 1976, 1976, Beverly Hills, USA -

During 'A Night At The Opera Tour'

🔸Following the first of three SRO appearances by Queen at Santa Monica Civic Audi- torium, Elektra/ Asylum Records feted the group at The Mandarin Restaurant in Beverly

Hills, where label executives presented the band with gold record awards for their most recent Elektra album, "A Night at the Opera."

Seen at the presentation are, from left: (standing) Steve Wax, executive vice president, Elektra/ Asylum Records; Spence

Berland, vice president, Record World; Connie Pappas, vice president, John Reid Enter- prises; Joe Smith, chairman, Elektra/Asylum Records; Mel Posner, president, Elektra/

Asylum Records; and Jerry Sharell, vice president, international division, adverstising and artist relations.

Seated are the members of the Queen (from left): Brian May, Freddie Mercury, John Deacon and Roger Taylor

March 1976, Beverly Hills, USA - Freddie Mercury and Rod Stewart at Mandarin Restaurant where Queen were awarded the Golden Disc for 'A Night At The Opera'

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chahnniesroom · 1 year

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tenderness | chapter 1: goodbye hello

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 3.3k

chapter warnings: none :)

masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

"I'm sorry." You stare down at where your hands are twisting together in your lap. "I don’t really know how to say this. But these are going to be the last few weeks that I'm going to be working with you."

You're met with no response and when you dare to look up, all the members are staring at you in disbelief.

"What?" Jooyeon finally breaks the silence in a small voice. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere, but I'm being transferred,” you reassure them. “I was asked to join the Stray Kids team, a lot of their future work is going to rely heavily on communication with companies that only speak English and so they want to support the translators as much as possible."

The room bursts into noise at that. It's a bit of relief, the lighthearted threats of demanding that the members of Stray Kids hand you over, the declarations that they're only going to speak English from now on to force you to stay. You get to laugh instead of cry, even though you still have mixed feelings about your new role. It'll be a fantastic opportunity and you know you'll learn a lot, but you're still not sure if it's worth how much you'll miss being a part of the Xdinary Heroes team.

When the group quiets down, Gunil shuffles closer and takes your hand.

“Thank you so much for working with us for so long. We will miss you a lot, but don’t worry, we’ll make sure to work hard so that we can go on tour and steal you back! Fighting!” The rest of the members echo his words and suddenly pull you into a group hug. You blink back tears and try to bask in the warmth of their arms, already missing them.

“It has been an honour working with you. I’m so proud of all of you and am very excited for what the future holds. I still can’t believe you’ve accomplished so much, I still remember when you were still trainees and looking like babies.” You stop to clear your throat but end up having to hold back a laugh when there are immediate protests.

“Hey!” Jungsu whines, pulling back. “You’re not even that much older than us, noona. Gunil-hyung is older than you so you can’t call him a baby!”

“You guys are all my babies," you say affectionately. "You always will be. I’m so glad I got to watch you grow so much.” You ruffle his hair playfully and ignore when he swats away your hand. "No matter what happens I'll always be on the sidelines supporting you!"

You tug everyone back into a hug and smile wistfully when you notice more than a few misty eyes. Xdinary Heroes will always have a special place in your heart, not only as the first group that you were a manager for, but also for their bright personalities and unwavering determination. Not for the first time, you wonder if you’ve made the right decision. All you can do is hope.

—

Although nothing has been announced officially yet, there are enough transfers within JYPE to subtly signal big things in the works for Stray Kids. On your first day, you’re relieved to find that you’re not the only new member of Division 1, nor are you the only one coming from Studio J.

The orientation finishes quickly as most policies and procedures are company-wide so you and the other transfers are already familiar with them, although it still takes up the bulk of your morning. The only highlight of training is a short break where all of you are filed into a practice room and are shocked to find yourselves face-to-face with Stray Kids themselves. Introductions are done in a flash, each person basically only has enough time to bow, quickly say their name and a greeting, bow again, before they’re all led out.

While you’ve worked at JYPE long enough to not feel star-struck in the presence of celebrities, you still found yourself caught off-guard by the eight pairs of eyes that had been on you during the brief moment that you had spoken. Of course, you had seen the members in the building before, but that had been more like passing by in the hallway instead of actually having a conversation. Chances are, they had never given you anything other than a perfunctory glance.

After lunch, you’re brought to your new team where more introductions are done and the specifics of your new role and responsibilities are explained. You’re focusing on reading documentation that details all the work that has already been done for the tour when a hand suddenly clamps down on your shoulder, making you jump and let out a little scream. You turn quickly to find a familiar face that’s crinkled with laughter.

Eunsung was one of the first friends that you made at JYPE, back when you were still an intern. He had also been young and new to the company, so it was easy for the two of you to gravitate towards each other even though you worked in different divisions. One of the things you had been most excited for when transferring was the chance to finally work directly with Eunsung after so many years of knowing each other.

“Always so focused, Y/n-ah. It makes you so easy to scare,” he teases.

“Yah!” You stand and smack his arm in response. “It’s my first day here Eunsung-oppa, if you’re too mean to me then I’ll report you to HR for harassment.”

“You’re the one hitting me! And it’s not your first day, if it were then wouldn’t it be your fifth first day or something?” he says, clutching his arm dramatically. “Someone please call for a first aid attendant, I’ve been wounded!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you’re one of the team’s attendants. I’m sure that you can treat yourself,” you sniff, turning away.

“Hey, but really, I’m glad to have you finally join the team,” he says genuinely. “I won’t bother you any longer, I know you have a lot to catch up on. Have fun!”

You give him a goodbye hug, then settle back in your seat as he leaves. As much as you enjoy bantering with Eunsung, you’re conscious that it would look bad if you talk too long, especially since your team lead, Yonghwan, is only a few desks away and can likely hear what you’re saying. You feel a bit better when Eunsung stops at Yonghwan’s desk and they exchange a friendly greeting. When Eunsung gestures towards you and they both look over, you smile and wave, a bit sheepish that you were caught watching them.

You turn back to your computer to concentrate again. You’re already beginning to feel overwhelmed by all the files you still have left to look at and the constant emails with new information and meeting invites, but are determined to prove yourself in this new position and help the team as much as you can.

—

The first time that you have an actual conversation with one of the members of Stray Kids, it’s totally unexpected. You’re on the phone with staff from one of the venues in North America and have stepped out into the hallway so you don’t disturb your coworkers. You’ve finally settled into your job and one of your responsibilities includes the organisation of coordination meetings for the venues, something you didn’t realise would be so time consuming or frustrating.

Partway through your call, Felix passes by the alcove that you’ve tucked yourself into and does a double take when you reply to something in English. One of the vending machine water bottles that he’s balancing in his hands thuds to the ground.

He stares at you with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. Startled, you quickly finish the call, promising to email as a follow up, and bow to him.

"Hello Felix-nim," you say politely, switching back to Korean. "Did you need help with something?

"You-you’re Y/n-nim, right?" he splutters.

“Yes,” you say, surprised. “I just joined your team recently, I’m surprised you remember me.”

“There’s not too many staff members close in age to us, and even fewer are female,” he explains. “You would have stood out even more if I knew you’re so good at speaking English!”

"Ah, yes," you say sheepishly. "I was transferred to help with Stray Kids as your team prepares for your upcoming tour. They wanted more people who could communicate with the overseas companies and venues without needing a translator and I'll also be going with you to help organise things during the tour too."

"Wow! I didn't realise, now I have someone other than Channie-hyung to speak with! Do the other members know?"

Without waiting for a reply, Felix grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the practice room. The rest of the members are spread throughout the space, but all turn to stare as Felix bursts through the door and drops all the remaining water bottles onto the ground in front of them.

"Guys, guys!" he exclaims, waving the hand that was still wrapped around your wrist. "Did you know Y/n-nim spoke English?"

"Oh?" "What? "Say something!"

Ignoring the explosion of noise as they all the boys react, Felix turns back to you.

"Did you study overseas? You're so fluent!"

"Ah no no no," you say, waving your hands quickly in denial. Your cheeks are heating up quickly under the sudden attention. "My English actually isn't that good. I went to school in Seoul, but it was my minor when I went to university. Actually, this job is good practice since I don't speak it much anymore."

"Say something in English!" Han insists, using English to emphasise his request.

"Uhm, I don't know what to say," you reply, flustered.

"Explain to them why you're working with us now, say what you said to me." Felix nudges you, playfully.

"I'm working to help the team before and during your upcoming tour. They thought it would be good to have more managers that can speak multiple languages and I'm grateful to have the chance to work with you. Please take good care of me!" You say, bowing to the whole group. Inwardly you cringe at the overly formal tone that you adopted.

"We're glad to have you working with us! Felix is right, your English is very good." Chan pipes up.

Everyone else jumps to agree, commenting how impressed they are. It quickly dissolves into chaos as they start to yell out any and every English word or phrase that they know. This continues on until someone's phone chimes with an alarm and they all groan, but get up to start practising again.

"I don't want to practise!" yells Seungmin, still in English. "Y/n-nim, take me with you!"

He throws himself in your direction and maknae line follow suit, Jisung going as far as to grip the hem of your pants. You laugh, backing away towards the door.

“I wish you could come with me too, but you probably don’t want to sit through all the boring meetings in my schedule for this afternoon. So really, I think I’m sparing you.”

The last thing you see before the door closes is Chan, still sitting on the couch at the back of the room. He’s looking over the members, amused but immeasurably fond.

—

You’re quickly integrated into your new team and find that, although you were initially pulled in to help with the tour, the responsibilities of all the managers are blurred. As the tour is still almost a year away, priorities are centred around the upcoming comeback. When one of the staff calls in sick, you find yourself bundled into a van and heading to the boys’ next schedule.

Not really certain of what you should be doing, you try your best to keep busy doing miscellaneous tasks and staying out of the way. It's not your first time at a schedule, but you've always been there with a definite purpose before, not just as an extra set of hands.

You're in the middle of hanging up different outfits when the members arrive.

Felix brightens immediately when he sees you and switches to speaking English, forcing you to do the same.

"Y/n!" he calls out. "I didn't think you'd be here! It's nice to see you outside of the company building for once!"

"Felix." You bow quickly and glance around to see if anybody is staring at the two of you, slightly relieved when you find nobody is paying attention. "It's good to see you too! I wasn't originally going to be here, but someone else wasn't feeling well so I'm helping out instead."

"Will you be with us the whole day?"

"Uhm," you quickly pull out your phone and check your calendar. "Yes, I think so. Unless they decide that they don't need the extra help."

Felix's smile seems to light up the whole room. Someone from across the room calls his name and you quickly sift through the clothes you've been hanging up to find the ones with his name on the tag.

"These are for you," you hold them out for him to take. "Good luck and have fun! Fighting!"

"Fighting!" he echoes, holding up a fist. “I’ll talk to you later!”

“Sounds good, now go!” You shoo him towards the changing area. You turn to see Minho just on the other side of the clothes rack, watching Felix go with an amused look.

“He’s been so happy to have you on the team,” he says in Korean. “He doesn’t have many people willing to indulge him. A lot of the Division 1 staff have been with us for a few years and back then, even if they could, they weren’t allowed to speak English to help him learn Korean faster. So a lot of them still don’t.”

“Oh,” you say, suddenly unsure. “I- Sorry. Nobody said anything about that. I can do the same if you think that’s more appropriate.”

At that Minho finally looks at you and holds a blank stare for a full minute before his mouth curves into a smirk.

“It’s good,” he finally says. “If anyone deserves spoiling on this team, it’s Yongbokkie. We’re all glad to have you with us as well. Just know that he might end up clinging to you as much as he can, don’t be afraid to tell him if you are too busy for it. We don’t want you to get in trouble on our behalf.”

Before you have a chance to say anything, he leans forward, pulling his outfit off the rack and walking away without another word. Flustered by the strange interaction, you don’t know if you should be flattered that you seem to have approval from one of the more intimidating members of the group or worried that you’ll be scolded by Division 1 about the reason that Felix has taken a liking to you.

—

Although you only attend schedules sporadically, they are definitely your favourite part of your new position. True to Minho’s words, it becomes something of a routine for Felix to latch onto you at schedules when the other members are preoccupied with work or getting ready. He didn’t have to worry about potentially mussing your hair, smudging makeup, or getting caught in accessories. This was especially common on longer shoots, when he grew exhausted and didn’t have the capacity to be so careful about translating everything. He would speak to you in a mix of Korean and English while blinking sleepily, voice growing deeper the closer he was to falling asleep.

The skinship was gradual at first. He would lean into your side while watching something on his phone, fiddle with your hair, or play with your hands, delighted that they were even smaller than his. If the breaks were long enough, then you would let him doze, leaving him vulnerable to the other members who would constantly take pictures of him nodding off. He began to greet you with hugs, wrap his arms around you when you sat on a couch with him instead of just leaning, and the two of you had dropped formalities, especially when speaking in English.

You have also grown close to the rest of the boys, although you didn’t quite share the same level of familiarity or skinship. It had happened naturally, if Felix was slouched against your shoulder, it was easy for another member to drop onto your other side. They all perked up when you entered the room with drink trays or containers of food, knowing that you had made the effort to learn their favourites. You even shared a quiet camaraderie with Chan, from times where the two of you sat together in silence, both focused on completing as much work as you could during breaks.

You were surprised but thrilled to be so quickly welcomed and trusted by the group. You couldn’t deny that you were touch-starved and that the skinship was as comforting to you as it was with Felix. It was strictly platonic and apparently common enough for Stray Kids that none of the staff even blinked at the sight of Felix wrapped around you. In fact, it was somewhat of a running joke among the managers, one that you didn’t hear of until about a month into your new position, that sitting on the couches in a waiting room during a schedule was just asking to be glomped on by one of the members.

Even though your main responsibilities were still centred around organisation of the upcoming world tour, you were slowly becoming the go-to manager to fill in when someone else was unable to attend a schedule. As long as you continued to prioritise your work well enough to meet all your deadlines, you were even allowed to be the one to supervise member live streams or help film tiktoks. The tour was still months away, but you were getting increasingly excited for it and the chance to hang out with the group without feeling guilty about other work you could be doing.

—

You’re not quite sure how it all happens. It’s just a blur to you. One second you’re at a schedule, sitting on the couch reading through the details of a contract that you’re helping finalise during a break and the next, there’s a body crashing into yours.

Your only thought is despairing that you haven’t saved the document recently so you desperately try to protect your laptop from any damage, pulling it away before it can collide with a stray body part. As a result, you lose balance, tipping forward and fall straight into Chan, who’s sitting on the ground tucked between the couch and the low table so that he can work on his computer.

A jolt of energy seems to pass through your forehead, right when it knocks into Chan’s arm. You scramble to right yourself, rubbing at the spot where you touched while Chan does the same to himself. He hasn’t changed into the outfit that the stylists have assigned for him, instead wearing a shirt that has the sleeves cut off, leaving his arms exposed. In the background, Felix, Jisung, and some of the other members are squabbling, but you can barely hear it over the thud of your pulse.

“Did you-” you start to say.

“Feel that too?” Chan finishes your sentence in a low tone, his disbelieving expression matching how you feel.

Slowly, Chan reaches out and takes your hand in his. The second you touch, there’s that same startling jolt. You’re filled with a strange sense of comfort and you can feel an unfamiliar warmth that’s coming from where your skin makes contact with his.

You and Chan stare at each other, eyes wide.

Soulmates.

masterlist | next chapter

#tenderness #tenderness by chahnniesroom #chahnniesroom #skz fanfic #skz angst #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x reader #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #chan x y/n #chan x reader #chan fic #chan angst

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boundinparchment · 5 months

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Dream a Little Dream of Me - LIV

Celestia had a cruel sense of humor. He knew this, even before his days as a student. But to be given a soulmate? Now, when he openly blasphemed against the cursed island in the sky? He would outlive you and the dreadful fated bond that haunted your shared dreams. There was little point in this. He could at least put a Vision to good use. People were nothing but disappointments. He had no use for you. Until you pulled the bow across your instrument and awoke a part of him long buried by self-hatred and arrogance. Soulmate AU; Il Dottore/Female reader w/ established personality and backstory. Slow burn. Lore and world speculation and interpretation within; follows canon story where possible. Fic is rated explicit; MDNI. Mind the tags. Chapter on AO3 here.

A blast of heat greeted you as you stepped into the House of the Hearth. Early twilight cast shades of pink and orange against warm wooden paneling, echoes of laughter dancing down the halls. You could already smell dinner wafting from the far reaches of the large house. If you closed your eyes, you could just make out the out-of-tune violin being practiced upstairs.

Arlecchino’s passing comment at the bank was followed up with a proper invitation. One you knew better than to avoid or turn down. Zandik didn’t entirely seem pleased but even he knew you were more bound by social conventions. If you were to stay, you might as well attempt to make other bonds.

You knew little about this particular division of the Fatui other than Zandik’s remark about espionage and that loyalty was an interesting facet of cognitive development for children.

A housekeeper took your cloak and lead you to Arlecchino’s office at the back of the house. Wide windows dressed in heavy drapes provided a view to gardens long-since buried in snow and trampled through by both wildlife and children. The furniture looked only slightly out of place and bore the uniquely detailed style typical of Fontainian woodworkers and upholsterers. The table between the couches held a tea set that was, although plain, clearly made from one of the best guild-families; it was accompanied by a large stand of desserts, colorful, fresh, and familiar.

Around you, floor to ceiling bookshelves held various tomes, the age of some betraying the woman standing behind her desk. Another oddity you were beginning to recognize among the top-ranked Fatui leaders.

“Perfect timing, maestra, although I’d expect as such from someone of your skill,” Arlecchino said, her smile softly carving her face. “Make yourself at home.”

You settled into the sofa nearest you, the fire in the hearth on your left spilling its warmth onto your feet. The Harbinger handed off a letter to the housekeeper before she took a seat across from you, legs crossed as her hands reached for the teapot and poured.

“Before I recount the important details of Fontaine’s changes, there is one that I feel you, and many others, were owed a long time ago.”

She picked up a cup and saucer and held it out to you, black fingers curling so her nails wouldn’t scratch you. You took it, the smell of lavender teasing your senses, and watched as Arlecchino pulled something from inside her jacket and placed it on the table.

Metal glinted in the firelight and your blood iced over. You turned your head to look the Harbinger square in the face, eyes narrowed.

“I thought your compositions sounded familiar but your piano playing made it difficult to place. Once my children confirmed you had taken to another instrument, it didn't take much more than an ad placed for a cellist in the national orchestra. The Steambird does love its gossip and a renowned cellist leaving the tour in Sumeru after a devastating scene of destruction is quite...attention-grabbing."

Arlecchino took a sip of her tea before she spoke again.

“Not that it truly matters, although the Doctor was always a bit touched with paranoia. You are owed accolades in your own right and if the Doctor is keen on keeping your visage to himself, then so be it.”

“Then why is that signet ring on the table?” you asked, your tea untouched in your lap.

The last you saw of that accursed thing, he was playing with it as you signed your non-disclosure forms and waivers. How many bruises had that thing wrought? How many scars?

A trembling ache sat in your rib cage. Deep down, a part of you hoped you get to slice your claymore through him, bit by bit. Make him regret hurting you, hurting everyone. It was never a conscious thought but when you practiced, sometimes the training mech wore his face in your mind, and you worked yourself to exhaustion.

Zandik never asked. With many things, he didn’t need to. Spite recognized spite and of all people, he knew how to use it to fuel one’s goals.

“When I arrived, I caught wind that he had a new contract with a violinist. Talented young man. Your patron recently took to darker circles, was far more open about his…activities to others. When one gets away with something for too long, they get careless. I'll spare you the rest but the poor boy did not die a dignified death. Even at the end of a spear, your patron whined and blamed others, thinking it would save him.”

Between your fingers, the handle of the porcelain cup snapped and hot liquid spilled across the fabric you wore. Unsteadily, you placed the cup and saucer on the table and reached for a cloth napkin, dabbing your outfit.

You’d wanted to kill him.

Ever since you finally developed the proper strength and had the means, you’d silently hoped that one day, you’d take up the chance. Hurt him for all that he robbed you and others of, for all the pain and lasting marks, for taking your own passion and throttling you with it…

Gone, just like that.

The flood of rage, hot and boiling, faded as relief washed over you, certainty taking hold. He would never harm a single person again. No one would die again.

But maybe if you hadn’t left, that violinist would be alive. Others after you would have been spared. You could have endured it. Wouldn’t that have been better? At least no one else would have...

Vision blurry and shoulders shaking, you were unaware that Arlecchino had moved to sit beside you, her steady hands taking the napkin from you and dabbing the fabric in your place.

“What good is justice when the guilty all walk free?” she whispered soothingly.

You couldn’t cry, not here, not properly. Even if Arlecchino knew who you were, where you came from, you liked the privacy and anonymity your mask gave you. That something kept you from the rest of the world while Zandik got all of you.

You managed a shuddering breath as you focused on the warmth of the fire, Arlecchino’s voice, and the way your boots moved when you flexed your ankles. The Harbinger, satisfied you at least weren’t melting, rose and folded the fabric in her hands gently.

“He was not the first of his kind, nor the last. Many of the children I’ve come across suffered similar or worse. At the very least, he will no longer hurt another.”

Which was all you could have asked for, in the end.

Arlecchino whisked away the broken cup and wet saucer back to the tray, used the napkin to wipe up the remnants on the polished wood, and placed a new one in front of you without hesitation. Practiced motions that only came with experience.

“I—"

“I hated this set anyway,” the Harbinger said as smoothed her pants and sat down. “One cup won’t be missed.”

You nodded but didn’t bring yourself to take the cup just yet. Hands still shaking slightly, you didn’t quite trust yourself not to break this one, too.

“Fontaine loves to pretend they have everything in order and Monsieur Neuvillette tries, certainly. Lady Furina tried but lacked the confidence in her skills and abilities. Plenty of people, including the perpetrator behind the serial disappearances, got away with the harm they caused due to those blindspots. Systems fail, maestra. No one intends for them to, but they do.”

“They failed those victims for a decade,” you said. “They failed every single person who trusted the ones who put a roof over their head.”

The venom in your words was intentional but it was burning you from the inside out; you couldn’t keep it in forever.

You recalled a case where a boy killed his parents when he discovered they were selling the children they took in when they got too old. More and more young women went missing, never to be seen again. Performers, the best of the best, suddenly without the partner they rose to fame with; shared looks across a crowded room said everything one needed to know about what transpired.

“It is why people like us must step in,” Arlecchino sat back and took a sip of her tea. “Play the roles no one else can or wants to.”

“Because Celestia won’t?”

You recalled the long trip from Sumeru, during which Zandik recounted the structure of the world, the true nature of the Heavenly Principles, and the Descenders who tried to dismantle them. Celestia and the Principles were meant to be guides and when those guides failed, when people were desperate and shaken with a fear of something greater than the divine…

That, too, was a system that failed every single time. A usurper who thought they understood the culture of the people they ruled over, out of touch.

The Knave gave an enigmatic smile over the rim of her cup before she took another long sip.

“It brings me great joy to see Columbina find another who shares her passion for creation. I am not sure how you convinced that madman to allow you to accompany him, but I’m glad for it.”

Although you could not bring yourself to remove your mask, the warmth of being seen kept you cozy until you arrived back at the Palace and in the sanctuary of your rooms.

“Where are you taking me?”

All you received in response was a chuckle of amusement as the forearm beneath your hand tensed for a brief second.

From the moment you’d awoken, Zandik had a lightness to his step that only came with a major breakthrough in his research. In the privacy of your rooms, he had been liberal with his affection that morning, flashing a wolfish grin when he pulled you back under the covers. He had a surprise, he said, but it had to wait until after dinner.

You still bore the reminder at the base of your neck, hidden beneath a high collared blouse.

His excitement took the edge off the knowledge that the ball was tomorrow night. Only that afternoon’s rehearsal stood between you and the moment of truth.

As soon as you’d cleared your plate, Zandik tugged at his cravat and covered your eyes with it, careful not to tie it too tight. He slid your veil back on, muttering something about ensuring no one else saw the color in your cheeks, and guided your hand into the crook of his elbow.

You’d lost track after the first few turns and a stairwell down which Zandik carried you himself. Judging by the muted sounds from his boots, you had to be in one of the wings of the Palace, but only on the first floor, same as the throne room and your music room. Most of those corridors had soft runners and there had only been a single flight of stairs. But with the continued turns, you had no idea where, precisely, you could be on the main floor.

The air grew a little humid when Zandik’s steps slowed and the carpet gave way to hard stone again. He said something you recognized as an order just from his tone and receding footsteps. Carefully, you were lead down three steps before a set of doors (mostly glass, you guessed, from the way the material clattered slightly) closed behind you.

You turned your head as you were guided further into the space, footsteps echoing. Around you, the air was heavy but crisp, filled with scents both familiar and exotic. The freshness of a Rainbow Rose lingered amongst an airiness you only smelled once in Mondstadt.

“You can look now; we shouldn’t be disturbed. Now where did…”

Zandik gently touched your hand and pulled away, leaving you standing by yourself for a moment as he walked elsewhere. You lifted your veil and pulled it back before you slid your fingers into the knotted cravat. The fabric slipped down your neck. Tugging your cowl back to free your hair, you looked around the room illuminated only by the moon and the distant aurorae.

A greenhouse.

All glass, you could see the freshly fallen snow and the ice crystals that bloomed over the windows. Beds of flowers you recognized from home were intermixed with Glaze Lilies, their flowers yet to open for the evening, and Cecilias moving to a breeze of their own.

Perhaps a solarium was a better word for the space than a greenhouse, you realized. It was clearly well-manicured and maintained, meant to be seen.

From behind, you heard the telltale whisper of a spin-crystal gramophone and the click of the needle sliding into place. A crackle, and then familiar notes trickled through the air as Zandik returned to you. Your response to the music was almost instant, your ears conditioned over the last few weeks to know the initial note by heart, and you looked at him, confused.

“Columbina helped with the recording device. You’ll be too busy conducting tomorrow night. I thought you should enjoy your hard work properly,” he said.

He removed his mask and gloves before he held his hand out, palm up; your skin met his with the ease at which the sun rose every morning. His touch was warm, his fingers calloused from experiences both chemical and physical, as he led you in the steady one-two-three rhythm of the waltz.

It felt like you were there, in the concert hall, except instead of waving a baton you were observing. Artists often stepped back from their canvases to make sure everything was within perspective and scale. Without the additional depth to the sound only found in person, you could focus the larger parts and the flow of the music.

“The passion of the musicians is palpable, even in a recording,” you said. “Waltzes aren’t complicated; it’s only six basic steps, but having such dedicated colleagues certainly helped…when they were focused.”

Zandik chuckled softly as you flowed through the room. Your other hand, the one not clasped in his, rested on his shoulder blade and you felt his muscles move and flex. The touch at your waist sent a jolt through you when he pulled you closer.

“Are you aware of the litmus test, such as it is, for a perfect waltz?” he asked, blue eyebrow arching inquisitively.

“If there is one, I certainly never learned it. They trained us on the practical knowledge of playing the music, not dancing to it.”

“A shame. It used to be said that a couple dancing a waltz should be so delicate, smooth, and most importantly, swift that the flame of a candle in the lead dancer’s hand should retain its flame the entire time.”

“That’s only as good as the dance partner, though,” you shot back. “Seems more of a party trick.”

Zandik murmured.

You were uniquely aware of your torso pressed against his, the way his fingers wrapped around your hand, how hard and warm he was beneath your other hand. He followed your lead with an exact precision you only ever experienced with a fellow musician.

The time signature was not up for debate and he did not seek to fight it, fight you.

As the solarium spun around you, all you could think of was Zandik’s lips, red eyes beneath blue lashes watching from between your legs, bodies united in a way that, once upon a time, you would have considered shameful. But who was there to judge you now, save the full moon and the man before you?

Your hand left his shoulder long enough to find the expose strap of his harness across his chest and tug him to you as you angled your head to capture his lips. Cautious once, twice, before you became searing hunger and your tongue met his with a fervor that bordered on starved. You interlaced your fingers with Zandik’s, still firmly gripping his harness with your other hand; you were no longer dancing, and instead swayed to the music as it swelled, Columbina’s vocals overtaken by woodwinds.

Zandik’s hand on your waist dipped lower, grabbing your behind and pressing you firmly against him. He loosened his grip on your hand to cradle the back of your head, seemingly determined to coax your very soul from your lips. That creeping ache took root again as Zandik met your desire at every turn, a pit of fire growing in your chest and working down to curl in your lower belly.

Terrifying and freeing all at once.

You broke the kiss, parting only far enough for Zandik to press his cheek against yours. The last of the notes faded out and you could only hear your breathing over the low static of the gramophone. You swallowed audibly as the hand in your hair trailed down to your cheek, Zandik’s bare thumb brushing your swollen lips.

A match, lit after so many failed strikes, burned within you when you met his gaze again; its flame licked at unwavering patience and dedicated curiosity, determined to retain its light.

“I believe there is merit in understanding the movements of the body just as much as the structure of the music itself,” he whispered. “When you’re ready, we can put that hypothesis to the test.”

#dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore/female reader #il dottore/female reader #dottore x female reader #il dottore x female reader #genshin impact reader insert #soulmate au #merry christmas here's my last update of the year

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d3caynluv · 2 days

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。 . * ⠀⠀ ( YOU ARE NOW LISTENING TO : PUSHING DAISIES ) ⠀⠀

Pushing Daisies debuted in 2021 to literal crickets. The digital single "BEWITCHED" was actually the victim of a boycott from the members of previous groups' fandoms, who actively tried to and successfully sabotage the group's debut. The era was riddled with controversies that were started by antis, several social media hacks, and nearly empty fan meetings. The most egregious case was when constellations, Venus fans, bought out all the seats at the group's fan meeting. What was initially supposed to be a 250-seat show turned into a 24 people showcase.

Angelico refused to be deterred by the public's reaction and continued to promote Pushing Daisies. They would come back with their claim to fame, "StRaNgE wOrLd," which would prove to be successful and skyrocket the group into the mainstream. This is when the group would adapt their "spooky but quirky" sound, making them an even more unique group in the current K-pop scene. Riding off their newfound success and growing fanbase, the group would come back with "KNIVES OUT" which would be met with more success than both their previous releases.

Still on the up, the group took a slight turn in their sound, releasing "Tell Me What To Do" to showcase the group's vocals and start establishing lore they swear has been there since the beginning. This release was popular but paled in comparison to KNIVES OUT, as the spooky concept seemed to be working for them. "Chasm" would be a surprise release and their most controversial. Some fans loved the song, while others said it didn't fit their concept and that Angelico was playing into trends. Despite this division, the song would be very popular internationally, blowing up in the Philippines and building them a strong international fanbase.

After a sold-out international tour, the group would come back hot and fresh, yet still a little weird. "LIBIDO" was not only successful but also very provocative. The group would gain new creative direction, having their music video turn from using friendship to using romance and lust as a central theme. The video for Libido was heavily controversial due to the amount of kissing, touching, and intimate scenes featured in the video. Despite the controversy, the mini album would go on to be their second best-selling. Sex sells, and Angelico took note.

Kinda.

Their next release, "Run From Me," was very impressive vocally, but it was not what people had expected. The video was also noticeably less intimate, leaving fans confused about what was going on behind the scenes. The song didn't exactly flop, but it was their most forgettable release.

Their most recent release, "Catch Me," returned to their soft-core music video aesthetic and the spookiness that earned them their initial fame. The song was universally praised and often used for cute edits, outfit of the day videos, and vlogs. This would get them back on the international radar, promoting them to be shipped off on yet another world tour they just got off of.

#。 . * ⠀⠀ ( rottingdeeply ) ⠀⠀ / ⠀⠀ discography.#fictional idol group #fictional idol community #kpop fanfic #idol oc #kpop oc #fake kpop oc #kpop au #idol au #kpop addition #idolverse #oc girl group #bts addition #fake kpop girl group #fake kpop idol #oc kpop group #stray kids addition

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 1 day

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Chapter Contents

Read on AO3

Hannah would never forget the moment she first laid eyes on a ginkgo tree.

It was shortly after she’d stepped off the plane from England. Amidst waiting with her entourage, she spotted the fan-leaved deciduous hiding within a rush of Japanese maple. Its green coloring stuck out like a sore thumb beside their purple foliage, then Hannah saw the unique leaf shape. At the time it was early April. When autumn arrived, the ginkgo’s matcha green would turn a vivid gold not even the Temple of the Golden Pavilion could outshine.

Charles Darwin once dubbed the ginko a “living fossil,” and indeed his description was appropriate. Ginkgos were one of the oldest surviving trees in existence, believed to date back some 200 million years, if not, longer. So much time and history passed down from seed to seed. Staring up at one was like staring at a cornerstone of creation; what came before us, what will be here after.

Hannah could list an encyclopedia of facts about ginkgos. For one, they were gymnosperms, which was a fancy-shmancy way of saying they were nonflowering and only reproduced via seeds exposed to pollen, rather than inside fruits. This placed them in the same division (clade) as cycads and conifers. However, because of their uniqueness and specificity, ginkgos belonged to their own nomenclature. You could also guess the age by its stem coloration; The greyer the branches, the older the tree.

A native species brought over from China, the ginkgo would become a popular symbol within Japanese culture, both in art and in politics. The first European to study the deciduous tree was a German naturalist and explorer by the name of Engelbert Kaempfer. Upon visiting a temple in Nagasaki around 1691, he enquired the name of the tree, having never seen one before. But the native dialect of his tour guide got lost in translation, and so, he wrote down “ginkgo,” much to the confusion of every modern day Chinese and Japanese, for the word did not exist. The true name of the ginkgo is the “maidenhair tree” (銀杏). Kaempfer’s mistake has never since been corrected.

Though for those not born in East Asia, ginkgos were a gateway to someplace more, a sign you had ventured outside the world as you knew it. For Hannah, this meant her impending marriage to Satoru, the clan leader of the noble Gojo family, one of the Three Sorcerer Families of Japan. It meant a different country. It meant change.

Maidenhair, she thought. Fitting that she’d spotted one so quickly, as she was set to be a maiden no more.

In time, Hannah would grow fond of the fan-leaved tree. It would shed its foreignness into something reminiscent of home; The Gojo estate was flush with ginkgo, drenching the house in nature’s botanical gold come October.

Which so happened to be now.

Hannah inhaled a deep breath as she readjusted her blanket, fighting off the early autumn chill. She should really stop doing this. It wasn’t smart to keep shoji panels open when the weather was cold; lets out all the heat. But she couldn’t help herself.

When the morning sun hit the forest at just the right angle, the mountainscape was too beautiful to ignore. It had to be witnessed by one’s own eyes.

Ginkgos. Maples. Japanese larches and pines.

She could stare at them for forever if she wanted, forgetting her worries and her cares. There was no place on earth more magical than Mt. Takao.

She heard a soft grunt immminating behind her and the rustling of bedsheets. Hannah turned around.

She saw the Berllini statue in the shape of her husband, sound asleep on her futon, a living artwork of sculpted abs and muscle. They had slept in her room again last night and had optioned the floor. He was butt naked underneath the covers, torso barely covered from alternating positions in his sleep. His exposed skin looked soft to the touch. She could hear his gentle snoring, snowy white hair strewn every which way atop the pillow. He’d be needing it cut soon.

Hannah smiled, thinking back to last night. If she closed her thighs together, real tight, she could still feel him there, pulsing and incessant. The love they made must’ve tuckered the poor man out. Not even the cold had awoken him.

Perhaps she should put some clothes on and head down to breakfast. Today was sure to be a busy one.

Satoru grunted once more and rolled over to his other side. His back was to her now, except the blanket hovering around his torso fell away, giving her a full profile of his arse.

Mind you, it was a pretty great looking arse. God must’ve taken His sweet time sculpting glutes like that, goodness.

Hannah suppressed a giggle from her naughty thoughts and rose from her perch along the opened shoji. Keeping quiet so as not to disturb him, she tiptoed toward the slumbering Adonis and draped one end of the blanket over to conceal his nakedness. There, bare arse no more.

As if sensing she was near, Satoru began to stir. “Mmm, Hannah,” he slurred losely.

“Shh,” she hushed, crouching down to plant a comforting kiss on his temple. “Go back to sleep, darling.”

She had cast her spell, and the sorcerer drifted peacefully back to sleep.

And Hannah went back to staring at the golden ginkgos outside.

She wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

This country. This beauty. Her darling.

Chapter Contents

#jujutsu kaisen #呪術廻戦 #gojo satoru #jjk oneshot #satoru gojo #jjk #oneshot #jjk fanfic #gojo fluff #gojo x oc #satoru x oc #jjk gojo #gojo takes a wife #銀杏 #jjk fluff #fluff #nature

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gallusrostromegalus · 7 months

Note

Speaking of public health. What was the soul society reaction to the eradication of small pox like?

"You notice there's a lot less dead babies these days?" Iba asked in the middle of one morning's office work.

"Fewer dead babies." Komamura corrected without thinking. "Less is for things you measure by volume, fewer for things you count. We do not measure dead babies by volume."

"Oh. right." Iba nodded. "Yeah, that wouldn't be right."

After a moment, what his lieutenant actually said caught up with him. "Sorry- force of habit from living with a Librarian." Komamura shook his head and looked up from the monthly intake statistics analysis report, peering at Tetsuzaemon Iba through the narrow gap of his helmet. "What do you mean, fewer dead babies?"

"I dunno, it just occurred to me. When I started the academy in the 40's- right after the catastrophe- we did a student tour of the 7th division's recently deceased souls intake queue, remember?" Iba waved his hand leaning back in his chair, apparently uncertain of where he was going with this either, but articulating his thoughts.

"I believe so. I had just taken over from Captain Kotsubaki." Komamura nodded, patient. Chikane Iba was an excellent shinigami and had done a magnificent job running the third division, but she had a tendency to talk over and bulldoze her son, so Komamura had learned to be patient when the young man when he felt like he should share a thought.

"Yeah, yeah- Not gonna lie Boss, you scared the crap out of me back then." Tetsuzaemon laughed. "-But the thing that stuck out to me that day was just. The sheer number of Infants and little kids in the line. the guy giving us the tour- I think it was Old Ito, actually- He said that one in five babies in the living world didn't live to see their fifth birthday."

"An improvement even back then- it was one in three children when back when I started in the 1840s." Komamura nodded. "It's funny that I frightened you- Captain Aikawa apparently headhunted me for the 7th because Kaname told him about how the children at the library used to use me as playground equipment."

"Good grief." Iba blanched. "So, what, he threw you in the deep end with all the dead kids?"

"In Captain Aikawa's defense, I did volunteer to handle children's cases. As sad as a frightened infant is, it's infinitely preferable than dealing with the deceased who are angry."

Iba frowned, opened his mouth like he was about to object, reconsidered, closed it, considered further, rocking his head from side to side, and then nodded. "I- yeah, Yeah, that tracks."

"You were saying though?" Komamura laced his fingers in front of him, leaning forward to listen.

"Oh! Well- not as much these days but back then, every family had like seven and eight kids, you know? And I realized that, well- almost everyone I know has a dead sibling or two? Almost every mother lost a child- Gods know my mother's a basket case but even getting a cold could send her into fits. If something had happened to me when I was a tyke- I don't think she would have pulled through."

Komamura nodded enough for Iba to see his helmet tilt to indicate he as still listening.

"I- I don't actually know where I was going with this, but I was reading that report earlier and there's a note from Shita-san at the end that this is the first month we haven't had a kid under the age of five in the intake queue. Ever."

Komamura flipped though the pages of the report to read the hand-written note at the end. "That is excellent news!"

"Oh! Yeah! It's great!" Iba nodded enthusiastically. "It just- I don't know, I guess it just snuck up on me and I'm so used to hearing something went wrong I guess I don't quite know what to do with good news?" he shrugged.

Komamura pondered this for a moment. "Hm. Well. Take heart, to start. But I see what you mean- it's a tremendous achievement, but not one we contributed to, and a "No Dead Babies This Month" office party feels in poor taste at best."

"Oof, yeah- especially if next month there's an accident or something and there's a whole bunch in the queue." Iba nodded. He considered things for a moment.

"-What happened that there are le- fewer dead babies, actually?" Iba frowned. "-Whoever it is, it would be appropriate to toast them and make an offering in their name to the Gods of Good Fortune, I think. Also do more of whatever they did."

"That IS a good idea!" Komamura smiled under his helmet. Perhaps it was his training as a priest, but he did enjoy an offering of goodwill ceremony. Also, nobody would ask him to drink- just pour any alcohol he was offered on the statue of the relevant deity. "I think- It's probably in our statistics, if the tenth division doesn't have an idea already. Can you collect the cause of death data for young children for the last-"

He was interrupted by the thunderous footsteps of someone sprinting towards the office, immediately followed by a tall young woman with short white hair throwing the door open, red-faced and winded.

"THEY DID IT! THE MAD BASTARDS THEY DID IT!" She shouted with wild excitement.

"Isane-? Uh, Miss Kotetsu?" Iba flustered.

"Please keep your voice down-" Komamura said through gritted teeth, trying not to growl at being suddenly shouted at. "Who has-?"

He was interrupted by Miss Kotetsu bolting right up to his desk and shoving a newspaper into his face hard enough to actually wrap around his helmet in excitement.

"SMALLPOX! IT'S GONE!!" She shrieked with joy.

"-gone?" Iba asked, bewildered as Komamura gently took the newspaper from her and pulled it back to actually read it. It was a newspaper from the living world, dated that morning- someone had gone through some pains to get it back to the Seireitei at speed, but the news was worth it:

SMALLPOX IS DEAD!

"TOTALLY ERADICATED! EXTINCT! KAPUT! IT HAS CEASED TO BE!" She bounced excitedly. "IT IS AN EX-PANDEMIC!"

"So like. Nobody has it this year?" Iba tried.

"Nobody has it this year, or will ever have it again, if I'm reading this right." Komamura muttered in awe. "Thanks to an aggressive worldwide vaccination and disease protocol program, there have been no human cases of the disease for several years. Since there are no people infected, there is no way for the disease to come back..."

Both men stared into space, the news almost unbelievable.

"Well. That does explain the Less Dead Babies thing." Iba nodded.

"Fewer Dead Babies." Komamura and Isane corrected in unison.

"I mean yeah that sure is part of it because Smallpox was the number one killer of infants in the living world for a long time there, but there's a whole bunch of stuff that's really cut down on infant mortality in the last few decades in particular." Isane nodded.

"We were JUST Talking about that!" Iba said, excitedly. "-Good to know you guys in the fourth are keeping track of that, It was gonna take forever to pull out that data..."

"Oh, could you pull it out anyway Tetsu-kun?" She asked. "-That's most of why I came over- I mean, to share the good news first, but Unohana-Taicho is planning on using this to really push a widespread vaccination program in the Rukongai and having the numbers to back us up would be really helpful!"

"Oh! Uh, sure!" Iba blushed.

"...You know this young lady, Tetsu-Kun?" Komamura lightly teased.

Both of the young people twitched and bowed to him, pointing at each other and speaking at once.

"Oh! I'm sorry Sir, I'm fourth division third seat Isane Kotetsu, i just know Iba because we were in the same class at the academy-" She babbled.

"-this is Isane Kotetsu, she's the smartest person I know and she saved my life from a lizard one time!" He waved excitedly.

"...That lizard was not going to kill you." She sighed, covering her face in embarrassment. "-I mean, if you developed a sepsis infection from the contaminated wound it might have made you very ill but that would take weeks and we have antibiotics for that, the lizard itself wasn't all that dangerous."

"It was INSIDE my LEG!" Iba gestured to his right thigh.

Komamura slowly tilted his whole torso sideways at Iba, hoping that sentence might make more sense at a forty-five degree angle. "...How?"

"I. Uh." Iba stopped, realizing his story was maybe not one he should be telling his boss. "I was. um. Out camping with the lads back when I was in the 11th, and a lizard climbed into my cot and I was. not totally awake and thought someone was trying to cop a feel and well you know, that's behavior you respond to with force so I rolled over and tried to stab the intruder's hand and. Uh. Missed."

Komamura continued to stare at him blankly.

"There was. screaming. lotta flailing, blood, general mayhem sort of thing. And in the confusion the Lizard.... climbed. inside the hole. In my leg. Sir." Iba explained, slowly crumpling behind his desk.

Komamura sighed deeply.

"-but Miss Isane was right there and actually kicked Ikkaku halfway across the camp because he was trying to lure it out with a Banana and generally being useless and she just grabbed that sucker and ripped him right outta there and had the wound packed and sealed in less than a minute and I even got to finish doing boot camp!" He rallied, cheerfully waving at Isane in hopes of distracting his captain with how cool she was.

"...What happened to the lizard?" Komamura asked, warily eyeing her through the gap in his helmet.

"Oh! He was really, really human acclimated and sneaked into my medkit rather than go back into the wild, so Harry lives a very spoiled lizard life in a terrarium in my room at home! Though it's actually my sister's room now but he still gets all the mango and smashed beetles he can eat!" Isane nodded cheerfully.

"You named a lizard. Harry?" Komamura asked slowly.

"...Iba-san named him, actually." She blushed.

"Ironically!" Iba protested. "I'm only mostly stupid, sir."

Komamura sighed deeply and once again regretted that his disguise would not let him rub his face as needed. "Alright. Thank you for the announcement, Miss Kotetsu. We will get that data to you in a timely manner- was there anything else you needed"

"Oh gosh, there was something else, what was it-?" She tapped her chin, trying to remember.

There was the distant sound of explosives, and all three of them turned to see what looked like midday fireworks going off at the 4th.

"Oh Right! Unohana-taicho requests your presence at the 4th as. Um. 'Designated Non-Drinker and Unarmed Combat Specialist' because the party was getting kind of wild when I left actually-"

Komamura sighed, and picked up Tenken from his stand and started tying the zanpaktou to his belt anyway.

---

The following morning, a small party arrived at the local shrines to The Gods Of Good Fortune, bearing offerings on behalf of the living world's World Health Organization and the handful of names they'd been able to glean from the living world newspapers, and nursing varying degrees of of hangover.

Komamura lead the party, having gotten them up at a slightly malicious 5AM to be there first thing in the morning. Tetsuzaemon and his friends from the 11th he insisted come along and 'suffer with me, as my sworn brothers' were quite pained but doing their best to hold it together.

Shunsui was a veteran of this nonsense and was hiding the pain very well behind his longtime party companions, Ukitake and Unohana, who seemed so extraordinarily cheerful that Komamura had to conclude that they were both still significantly chemically altered. He couldn't fault Unohana- they were faint and only visible on the rare occasions she let her hair down, but just below her left ear there was still the faint divot scars from surviving her own infection.

Isane had celebrated just as hard as the 11th Division lads, but had also had the good sense to alternate beer and water and take both aspirin and some sort of horrible pink goop that apparently relieved nausea before passing out under a table and had woken up only slightly groggy.

Komamura's new friend Harry the Lizard- a remarkably loquacious and quick-witted reptile -had taken up residence inside his helmet, lightly intoxicated on the cocktail fruits people had kept feeding him, and was politely nestled in the thick fur of his neck to ward off the morning cold.

The rituals of gratitude for this miracle, and asking the Gods to bless those who had worked so hard went smoothly, and Komamura couldn't help but notice when he turned around that Miss Kotetsu had opted to lean on the shoulder of 'Tetsu-kun'.

It was not often Komamura started the day with the feeling that everything would turn out alright, but as he watched Tetsuzaemon cautiously but gracelessly take Isane's hand and her squeeze it back on the way back down from the shrine, he felt like the feeling might stay this time.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach fanfiction #bleach #sajin komamura #tetsuzaemon iba #isane kotetsu #long post #infant death mention #disease mention #injury mention #it's funny I promise

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whitexwolfxx310 · 2 years

Text

Meeting the Big Bad (White) Wolf

Pairing: Bucky x female reader // Bucky x y/n

Summary: After finishing college you are accepted into an internship program at the Avengers Compound to help your new patient into the civilian world. But much to your surprise, your first and currently only, patient is none other than James Buchanan Barnes.

Warnings: Death, possible triggering, military life, and some light cursing.

Words: 2.9k

Masterlist

Being an Army brat is what inspired you to go to school and help adjust Veteran's back into civilian life. Moving from place to place, never being able to truly establish yourself or relationships with anyone due to the impending doom of you, or them, leaving. Another thought that was always front and center in anyone’s mind linked to the military, was death. At first it’s heartbreaking. You see families and other soldiers crumble due to a fallen comrade. But then one day, it’s like a switch flips, and it becomes a part of life that you learn to accept, no matter how hard of a loss. Being a soldier, everyone around you develops a hard, and sometimes impenetrable, exterior (and interior).

My father, Colonel Castle, retired from the military after 20+ years of active duty with the 107th Infantry. He and my mom moved to a beautiful, secluded home with a lot of wide open space in upstate New York so that we were still close to the place that we considered ‘home’. My dad said he knew that it was meant for him when he realized how quiet it was. I guess spending half of your life fighting in war, silence is welcome over explosions and screams of dying people.

My mom was the forever adored and perfect Army wife. She was always by my fathers side for award ceremonies, promotions, led the FRG (Family Readiness Group) in the battalion. My parents of course supported my older brother Luke when he decided to follow in the Colonels footsteps (and my grandfathers) when he enlisted into the 107th right out of high school. He spent a total of 7 years in the military. We didn’t see him much due to where he was assigned, training for airborne school, and 3 tours overseas.

It happened to be the day I finished my last final in my final semester before getting my masters. I practically skipped my way back to the dorms where my room was already packed and I was so much looking forward to going to my parents home upstate to await my results and see where I got placed for an internship. It was a beautiful day in the beginning of June. The sun was shining so bright and the air was warm, but not humid. After settling into the guest bedroom, I took out a novel that I have been dying to read instead of textbooks. I sat in a wooden rocking chair on the wrap around porch with my book, waiting for my parents to get home. (Mom was always great in the sense of preparing for someone’s arrival. Getting food, snacks, and ingredients to make your favorite dinners. But of course, she was the most perfect model wife and mother). My father no doubt went with her to the store because now he was finally able to have the time to enjoy the little things, even as small as going to the local grocery store.

I’m not sure how long I was reading for, but I got about 8 chapters into my book when I heard a car in the distance. I immediately jumped up in anticipation to greet my parents. I could see the dust being kicked up from the tires of the vehicle down the long driveway. But much to my surprise, it wasn’t my parents. Instead, it was a large, black Chevy Tahoe and my heart sank. I’ve seen this SUV many times, and it never came with good news. Once the car was parked in front of the house, a man dressed in his olive green uniform got out of the SUV.

Oh no... I thought to myself. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, clenched my teeth and slowly walked down the steps to meet him.

“Ma’am. I’m Sergeant Finn, here on behalf of the 107th Infantry Division”

I nodded my head in understanding. But that was all that I could muster.

“Are you kin to Staff Sergeant Lucas William Castle?”

Here we go. “Yes.” The volume was barely audible. “I-I’m....his sister, y/n.”

Sergeant Finn takes a deep breath and looks straight into your eyes. “I regret to inform you that Sergeant First Class Castle has been killed in action.”

Another olive green uniformed man steps out from behind the Black Tahoe with a triangle box. He briskly starts walking toward you while Sgt, Finn continues speaking of condolences and the details of how, when, where, etc. But it all sounds drowned out, like you’re underwater. You’re not sure how long the one-sided conversation went on with the two men until you realized the heavy weight in your hands from your older brothers flag and the dust being kicked up from the dirt road as they left.

It’s just me now. Just me.

Your life has been at a standstill since you and your family learned the news about Luke. You’ve slept most of the days away, barely coming out of the guest room to socialize, even with your own parents. There’s a piece of you that feels guilty, since you are their only remaining child and yet you can’t bring yourself to talk to your parents, to your friends, even acknowledge that Lucas’ death is real.

Forcing yourself out of bed to take a shower is the big accomplishment of the week. It’s really the only thing you look forward to anymore, since everything else has gotten put on hold (from your own doing). You stare at yourself in the mirror as it starts to fog from the hot water running. The person looking back is someone that you don’t recognize. Poking at the dark bags under your eyes, seeing how dry your skin is and how dull your hair looks. A deep sigh escapes from your chest as you undress to stand naked and vulnerable in the almost unbearable hot water. You stand there in hopes that the water will wash away not just the grime, but the depression and the grief as well.

Feeling slightly better after you shaved, exfoliated and scrubbed, you head back into the guest room to get into a clean pair of comfy clothes. When you walk in you notice something on the bed; A manilla envelope addressed to you. It instantly peaked your curiosity so you sit on the bed and start inspecting it. In the upper right hand corner in big, bold letters read the return address: Stark Industries.

Up until this point you had forgotten the internship you had applied for in your last year of school. It can’t be.... you think to yourself. There is no way I actually got the position, the one where only a single student was chosen to work at the Avengers Compound.

The letter inside the envelope reads:

Dear (y/n),

We are writing this letter to say Congratulations, you have been accepted into the paid internship program working with Earth’s mightiest heroes. You have the opportunity to help make the world a better place by dedicating your time to encourage their well-being, mental health, and expand their abilities. If you choose to accept and seize this moment, we are very much looking forward to working with you. The details below contain your start date, dress code, directions and information on where to go within the compound to get your ID and clearance. We look forward to hearing from you! If you have any questions, please call me directly at (000-000-0000).

Thank you,

Pepper Potts

Shocked is an understatement. You quickly throw on a band t-shirt and sweatpants before running out into the living room waving the letter and jumping up and down to your parents. You’re unable to even get a word out. Both your mom and dad get up off of the couch and take the letter. Together they read it aloud and you eagerly wait for them to realize just what this exactly means. They look up smiling widely and meet your beaming face. Simultaneously you all start cheering and jumping up and down. This is the first shred of good news your family has received in almost a year.

“My dream job!” You say, the most enthusiastically you have been in what seems like forever.

“Oh honey, we are so proud of you!” Mom says as she hugs you tightly. Your father comes up behind your mother and wraps his arms around you both. A sigh of relief comes unanimously.

You have to follow the directions from your acceptance letter to a T because you cannot use Maps in your phone to get there. But of course, can’t make the whereabouts known. It isn’t hard to tell when you have arrived. The runways for jets, collection of high end cars, or just the huge building with the giant ‘A’ on it might be an indication that you’re in the right place.

After parking your car, you flip down the visor to take one last look at yourself before heading in. It’s the first time you’ve worn make up in months, worn clothes other than sweats, and styled your hair. You run your fingers through your long, wavy brown hair to help blend the curls; Then you apply one more layer of gloss to your lips and take a deep breath. You got this, you encourage yourself.

Walking up to the building is even more intimidating than driving to the parking garage. The entrance way is made up of huge impact proof doors. As you approach, they automatically open and there to greet you is none other than the beautiful red headed Mrs. Potts.

“Hi! You must be (y/n)! I’m so excited to finally meet you! You had quite the impressive application, even Tony said so!”

Tony? As in Stark? You swallow your nervousness down at the thought.

“Hi! Wow, Mrs. Potts! Thank you-”

“Please, call me Pepper.” She smiles sweetly. You let out a slightly nervous laugh

“Pepper. Thank you again so much for the opportunity. I’ve been dreaming about this for as long as I can remember!”

Pepper hands you a black leather binder. “Well then,” She says excitedly “Let’s get you right into it!”

You follow the pair of heel clicking long legs and take in the astonishing view. There are computers everywhere, cameras in every corner, different suits from different Avengers through time on display in the walls. Just when you think you have seen it all, the next thing takes your breath away.

Mrs. Potts takes you to security for your picture, ID badge, fingerprints, a company card and clearance. It takes all of two minutes for everything to come back. Pepper smiles “Well it looks like you’re not a convicted felon.” She laughs “Either way, I’m sure one or two are hanging around here somewhere!” She smirks and then let’s out a small laugh. “Let me show you to your office, it’s on the 5th floor.”

She takes you up to the fifth floor and your office if the second door on the right hand side. You walk in, noticing just how much sunlight and the amount of space that you have. It’s taking everything you have for your jaw to not drop on the floor.

“Your desktop is all set up. Here is your first case file-” Pepper tsks through the stack of papers she is lugging around. “Ah! Here you go. Dr. Banner made some notations that he thought might be helpful from his own experiences. This is going to be you’re only case right now since it’s um..” She hesitates, but recollects herself and smiles through it. “Well it will keep you busy!” Pepper smiles as she hands over the file. “Well I’ll leave you to get settled in then!” She starts to walk out of your office but abruptly stops and turns around “Oh, and he likes to be early, just thought you should know!” She says extremely bubbly, just like everything else. You laugh to yourself as you sit down behind your desk for the first time, placing the file down in front of you.

My office....MY office. Wow.

You take in a deep breath and borderline almost pinch yourself to make sure this is real. You giddily scoot your chair forward, put your purse in one of your desk drawers and open the case file.

You freeze. All of the air just got completely sucked out of the room. The first thing you see is an old black and white picture of a handsome man smiling as he swears into the Army. But the name, the name is what nearly makes your heart stop. James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

Your eyes race through the file, reading as much as you can as quickly as you can. The clock on the wall is practically screaming the time as his session with you seems to be racing towards you.

‘He likes to be early...’ Fuck.

As quickly as you can, you get up and run to the door, making sure it’s open for him to feel welcome. Especially for his first session with you. Hurrying back to your desk, you once again go nose deep into Barnes’ file. You scan over his time served in the military, being experimented on, becoming a deadly assassin for Hydra, coming back after 5 years after Thanos, working diligently in Wakanda to undo mind control, and now trying to blend into society and living with the things he’s done and has to live with. You truly feel sorry for all that he has been through. While they cannot be compared on the same level, you both have experienced far more death in your lives than anyone should have to.

Looking up at the clock one last time to see how much time you have left before your first interaction with James, you are startled to already find him sitting on the couch across the room facing you. He was so stealth like that you didn’t even notice he came in.

“Oh! Sergeant Barnes! I’m so sorry I didn’t even hear you come in.”

He stands up, so you mimic his movement to go forward thinking he was going to introduce himself. You feel like a complete idiot when he hands you a piece of paper instead of shaking hands. He avoids making eye contact at all.

“When we’re done here I need you to sign this saying I was here or whatever.”

Very quick to the point I see.

You take the sheet of paper that was handed to you and set it down on your desk as you retreat back to your chair. Although he’s barely said anything, you’re intimidated by him. Which of course you cannot let on. But at the same time, this does not seem like the man who used to be on the news non-stop. While his face was as solid as stone, you noticed the shorter hair, the fact that he was still muscular but more lean and how he in completely covered from the neck down in all black, including a black leather jacket and gloves to match.

“Yes of course. My name is y/n, and it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Barnes.” You say in a calm tone to make it a point to not sound aggressive.

“Yeah...” He replies, looking out the window into the trees. “And it’s Bucky.” He spat back.

“Sorry, I apologize. Bucky it is then.”

The silent treatment is making this more awkward. You clear your throat.

“So Bucky, how are you adjusting to civilian life?”

Bucky snorts and rolls his eyes at your question.

“How well do you think?”

Well this is going to be interesting...

“That boring after so many years of constantly going from fight after fight, huh?”

He actually glances over. Not making eye contact, but actually looked in your general direction.

“I guess you could say that.” He says, agreeing. You keep trying to probe but not push too hard.

“Add on top of that having to conform to an entirely new society.”

This time he lets it go completely unanswered.

“Well, I know that you could possibly have everything that you need here at the Compound, but I just want you to know that I am here. My door is always open if you want to talk or if you need anything. I also live relatively close by so...” You grab a post it note and write down your number. “You can call or text me anytime, I’ll be readily available.”

“Thanks.” Short, sweet and to the point.

You get up from your desk, walking over to Bucky and handing him the post it with your number. You don’t get too close, enough to extend your arm and hand him the paper.

“I need your signature.” He says coldly.

“Right!” You scramble to your desk, finding a pen and writing the date of your session along with your signature. “Here you go...” You say, handing him the paper. He stands up and reaches for the paper and he makes eye contact with you for the first time.

“Thanks” He says again.

“It was nice meeting you, James” You say encouragingly. “I’ll see you the same time tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” He said and walked out.

We’ve got a lot of work to do... We definitely have a long road ahead of us.

Next part

#fanfic #buckybarnes whitewolf wintersoldier #bucky barnes fanfiction #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #bucky angst #bucky #beefy bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fic

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