#Coated White Board Paper Making Machine

[baby-you-you]

what fandoms are you ok with doing? if you know enough about it, maybe could you do portal/portal 2, our favorite video game? plz that would be so awesome :DDD

I do any fandoms! It doesn't matter much if I know it or not, I want to make everyone happy <3

Portal/Portal 2-themed regressor

⚙️ Activities

Playing pretend test chambers with obstacles (blankets, pillows, furniture) Playing Portal/Portal2 Building mazes or contraptions with blocks, LEGOs, or magnetic tiles Drawing your own test chamber or Science facility Solving kid-friendly logic puzzles or escape room kits Pretending to be an AI assistant or test subject Watching Portal animations or Gmod Portal parodies Roleplaying with plushies or dolls as cores or turrets Listening to Portal soundtrack or GLaDOS lullabies Making “science reports” with crayons and stickers

⚙️Clothes

White lab coat over pajamas or onesies Science-themed shirts or patches Orange jumpsuit-style PJs or sweatpants Portal-themed socks (turrets, GLaDOS eyes, logos) Blue/orange color-blocked clothes to match the portals “Companion cube” hoodie or hat Soft gloves like Chell's portal device lookCozy robes that look like Aperture uniforms Glow-in-the-dark or light up accessories

⚙️ Toys

Plush companion cube or turrets Mini cubes or "test subjects" made from toys Talking Wheatley or GLaDOS plushies (custom or fanmade) Light-up portal gun toys (or cardboard roleplay version) Puzzle toys like Rubik’s cubes, maze balls, or logic boards LEGO sets (especially space/lab-themed) Kinetic sand Turret figurines or AI core toys for pretend play Sensory cube with patterns/sounds Kids' circuit kits (Try NATGEO if you're struggling?)

⚙️Games

Portal 1 & 2 (story mode or modded for viewing only) Simple physics/puzzle games Coding-for-kids apps like Scratch with Portal-style characters Pretend “test subject” obstacle course in your room Companion Cube tea party or daycare roleplay Drawing portals on paper and imagining what’s inside Using chalk to make portals on the floor!

⚙️ Food/drinks

Cubed gelatin snacks Square sandwiches or “test chamber” bento Orange and blue juice Applesauce or Pudding Mini marshmallows Lab-style serving: using test tube candy containers or science beakers Energy drink alternatives like vitamin water or juice shots Cookies cut into cube shapes brownie or cupcake with a cherry on top (for rewarding yourself after a hard day <3)

⚙️ nicknames

Corebaby Core Baby Baby core little machine Little Aperture Little AI Test Bean Test Kiddo Cubeling Portalbug Science Sprout Turret Tot Cakelet

[manygeese]

part three of valgrace sleeping beauty au :) author’s note at the end as always because I have to yap

Edit: part four is out

Chapter Three

Leo had spent the week before his sixteenth birthday at the three good fairies’ cottage. Now that the day had finally come, he and the fairies were taking it easy before they had to leave for the castle.

Annabeth, Hazel, and Piper were like sisters to him- he had spent every other week with them since he could remember. His parents thought that spending time out in the woods would “build character” and was completely banned from working on schematics whilst he was there. Leo couldn’t see why, but his parents were always cagey about the issue, so he just shrugged it off and had fun with the fairies. He cooked dinner with Hazel in the evening, braided bracelets with Piper in the cozy living room, and gardened in the mornings with Annabeth.

Hazel was in the kitchen making a cake for Leo that morning, and would occasionally come into the living room covered in flour, asking Piper for assistance. The fairy was an amazing cook, but was the first to admit she had a way to go with baking. Annabeth and Leo were focused on a heated game of chess.

“How are you feeling?” Annabeth asked, moving her left rook to take Leo’s knight.

Leo sighed. “Fine. I’d be doing better if I had my queen,”

“I’m not giving your queen back; that’s not how it works. But I’ve known you your whole life, Leo, you can’t lie to me. Something’s bothering you and you need to answer me.”

“It’s nothing, really,” he confessed, taking one of Annabeth’s pawns. “I just took a walk over to the edge of the forest and I saw something spooky.”

Annabeth hummed, moving another pawn closer to Leo’s side of the board. “What kind of spooky?”

“There was this green smoke coming from the foot of the mountains. And for some reason, I felt drawn to it.” Leo moved his remaining knight into a position where it could get Annabeth’s queen.

“The Forbidden Mountains?” Annabeth questioned, not taking her move yet.

Leo wrinkled his nose. “That’s what they’re called? What’s forbidden about them?”

“The smoke is what’s forbidden. It’s toxic, and such,” Annabeth lied, hoping to keep the prince from going anywhere near the mountains again, for she knew they were where Gaea dwelled.

Leo looked surprised. “I didn’t know that.” He stared down at the board critically, seeing that Annabeth had him in checkmate. “I’m going to head out,” he decided. “Fresh air, nothing toxic. Just call me if you need me.”

Once Leo was out the door, Annabeth headed over to the kitchen, sitting at the table across from the counters.

“Annabeth, did you pick those strawberries earlier like I asked?” Hazel inquired, hugging a bowl of batter close.

“They’re in the ice box,” Annabeth answered, opening a sewing patterns book. “Piper, can I get your opinion on the suit I’m making for Leo?”

“You’re going through with that?” Piper asked skeptically, though she did move towards the table where Annabeth was sitting. She hummed at the fabrics the other girl fetched from the cabinet. “For the vest, go with that one.” She pointed to a rusty color with golden embroidery.

Annabeth eyed the other fairy questioningly. “That one? Really?”

“As an accent piece. It’ll be under the suit jacket, so the pattern won’t be overwhelming, but it’ll make a statement.”

“You’re right. But what will we make the coat out of?”

“Eggshell white?”

“No. Warm brown would look classier,”

“But eggshell would make the vest pop.”

“The brown would make the look cohesive.”

Hazel rolled her eyes. She just knew they were going to continue bickering till the cake was done.

~*~

Leo was sitting by a stream, working on schematics for a flying mechanism. He was hoping it would work like a carrier pigeon, able to bring a couple letters with it during its flight. Hypothetically, the machine was able to fly over to the steps of Jason’s castle, but with the added weight of the paper it may just reach the border. The prince sighed and got to work.

Out of nowhere, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso. Leo was ready to elbow his potential attacker in the ribs when a familiar voice sounded in his ear.

“Are you supposed to be working right now?” Jason asked.

Leo huffed, remembering that Jason’s family was at the castle for his birthday celebration. “Jason, You scared me.”

“Sorry. But are you supposed to be working right now?” Jason repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Leo deflected.

“I’m with a hunting party your father invited me on,” Jason responded.

“That’s nice.” Leo turned around in Jason’s hold, kissing him.

Jason returned the kiss, but looked questioningly at his boyfriend. “Are. You. Supposed to be work-“

“-ing right now, I know,” Leo finished for him. “Dad said ‘nothing related to the forge at the cottage.’ You won’t tell him, though, right?” He batted his eyelashes up at the other boy.

Jason laughed. “I won’t,” he admitted, “but please don’t keep doing this. Your parents said something about expanding your horizons out here, not to keep working on the things you do at the castle.”

Leo nodded. “Right as always, golden boy.” He giggled then leaned in closer, turning semi-serious. “But can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Jason replied truthfully.

“I think they have ulterior motives,” Leo confessed. “There’s something more. They do want me to ‘expand my horizons’, but they actually want to keep me away from the forge.”

Jason, to his credit, didn’t look at Leo like he was completely crazy. Only about two fifths crazy. “What’d they do to make you think that?” He questioned.

“All my life, they’ve closed the forge on my birthday,” Leo explained, “but never on their birthdays. Or even national holidays! They practically drag me back up the stairs when I try to light the fire. And when it’s not my birthday, they always look so sad when I go to work on a project. Everyone else, they encourage, but not me.”

Jason nodded sympathetically. “That makes sense. But have you-“ he was cut off by what Leo assumed was the hunting party calling for him. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you at the ball!” He pressed a quick peck to Leo’s lips and ran off on his horse, Tempest. He left Leo feeling relieved that he wasn’t going insane and only a little flustered.

~*~

Author’s Note

After this chapter, there’s one more longer chapter and an epilogue I said we would talk about later that I will have to talk about soon. Oh no. The consequences of my actions are coming for me with vicious vengeance. Anyways thank you @scentednightdonut for being my editor! Also, thank you @thetourturedwritersclub because it was really nice what you said on the last part :) I love being people’s fic dealer lol.

Here are the people who asked to be tagged on my first post abt this au (let me know if you want to be untagged):

@queenjunothegreat

@acetheta

What’s Next: Leo’s sweet sixteen that is totally curse free with NO evil witches whatsoever!!! 😃

[sketchyjessieblog]

My Experiences Making Stickers

Machines

In terms of making stickers, you don't inherently need any machine whatsoever. If you can find decent sticker paper to draw on, some kind of laminate or protective adhesive coat, and scissors, you can make stickers just fine. Hell, you don't even really need the laminate/coat, but people tend to use stickers in situations where they'll need that protection to stand up to rain, weather, or condensation.

However, importantly, producing stickers without a machine is slow as fuck. Hand drawing is much slower than printing, and hand cutting is much slower than using a machine like a Cricut. Ultimately, I'd recommend at least a printer, as it will probably be able to print on more material than you can draw on, and it's a fairly cheap way to speed up production. But going without a Cricut is a lot more reasonable, as the Cricut is quite expensive, and you'll likely not need to produce at a large enough scale where hand cutting is impractical initially.

I personally have both: a printer and a Cricut. I like them both, and the Cricut allows much more precise and uniform cutting than I can do myself. But I honestly might have gone without the Cricut if I had better realized it wasn't really necessary to create good die cut style stickers.

Paper

Sticker paper is fairly easy to find online, and I've seen some decent material in stores like Hobby Lobby and Wal-Mart. Generally, you'll get more for your money going with bulk options online, but a smaller order might be more in budget and more practical early on.

In terms of material, I'd personally recommend something along the lines of printable vinyl, or otherwise something with a coating already on it. I have some sticker paper that was effectively uncoated paper, and it doesn't stand up well to weather on its own. And laminate and coating options have been difficult to work with in my personal experience. The spray I tried ended up being scratchy and weird, and laminate sheets are extremely thick, to the point that the Cricut struggles to cut it, even on the highest setting I have (poster board).

Another note, home printers can be quite finicky when it comes to thick material. Try to pick fairly thin, but still durable, material when possible, as thicker materials can get snagged in the average home printer. I effectively couldn't print on some heavy cardstock I got because of this.

On a final note, unless you need very uniform, standard shapes, like circles, rectangles, etc., I don't recommend getting pre-cut label sheets. Die cuts tend to look much more interesting and work with much more designs, and it's fairly easy to make them even without a Cricut if you make the outline simple enough.

Designs

In terms of design, you can get away with a lot as long as you're working with a printable material. I'd recommend making the files fairly bright and saturated, as this tends to come out looking better. If you're working with an incredibly dark piece, make it slightly brighter than you would think it should be. In my experience, a lot of detail can get lost with darker works, as the print looks darker than what's on screen. I'd recommend going more saturated with very light, pastel works. I've had issues with the material coming out near white, with the color barely showing through. Ultimately, it may be best to simply test things out with your own machines, but these are my experiences.

With hand drawn stickers, something I haven't personally tried, you'll have to consider your own personal limitations and tools. Again, this is something you can probably experiment with, but be mindful of your body. You don't want to treat yourself like a printing machine and develop medical problems like carpal tunnel because of it. We already risk that enough as artists.

Selling

If you'd like to sell your stickers, I recommend ensuring they're fairly weatherproof, as the average person is going to want to stick them in places where that's at least somewhat important. Laptops, tumblers, their car, etc.

I won't get too much into places to sell items, because that could probably be its own post, but in terms of pricing, I'd base that on the effort, material, and size. For me, I tend to price tiny stickers (roughly 1-2 inches) at 50 cents and larger stickers (2-4 inches) at $1. I don't usually make much larger stickers, so I don't have personal pricing there. Beyond my anecdote, I'd recommend looking around at local events, sites like etsy, and possibly even calculating sheer cost to yourself plus the profit you want to make. Analyzing general “market trends” plus your own costs will probably be the best route to get a decent price tag.

Shipping is something I have limited experience with, but I'd recommend going with a fairly protective shipping container, such as a bubble mailer. Even with decent weatherproofing, stickers can be fragile. In addition, you may want to charge your customers for shipping. I've personally paid upwards of $5-6 to ship individual bubble mailers with artwork and stickers in it, but I was also paying for tracking. The prices without tracking were more around $1-2, and obviously this will vary massively depending on the size of your mailer and the weight of your items. You may also be able to talk to your local post office or research business shipping. I don't know much about how to keep shipping costs low, but I've seen options for savings on things such as bulk shipping.

Products

Cricut Explore Air 2 - Pretty useful, but I had some issues with calibration initially. Also glossy materials have some issues with the scanner: I've used scotch tape over the lines the scanner looks for to help that. You can also use some cloth to gently clean the scanner if it's having issues. You definitely need the software that works with it, the Cricut Design Space, and use the Print Then Cut feature for printed sticker designs. I personally print from the Design Space as PDF, then print out the PDF, because the Design Space doesn't have proper paper type settings from what I can see.

Cricut Machine Mat - I found some decent off brand ones at Hobby Lobby. The machine comes with one, but I damaged my first mat and had to buy more. Good to have at least one extra on hand just in case.

Cricut Weeder - This makes removing stickers from the mat very simple. You can get a lot of the big parts off by hand, but the weeder is good for getting little details off without damaging the sticker.

EPSON EcoTank ET-2803 - Pretty decent printer. I haven't had to change ink since I got it a couple months ago, and I use it pretty regularly. It can be finicky with paper and get jammed easily, but otherwise it's fairly reliable to me.

Cricut Printable Vinyl - I just started using this properly, but I ran tap water over it, and the damage was pretty minimal from what I could tell. It was still usable after the fact, and the art was undisturbed. Prints fine, though it likes to fold on the edges a bit and get ink on the very tips, which doesn't impact much in my process.

Pen+Gear Self Adhesive Laminate Sheets - Too thick for the Cricut, but useful for other applications. Would work amazing for hand cut stickers. I personally use this for bookmarks atm, and the stickers I got using this are incredibly well protected.

Scissors - Any brand works. Good to have even with a Cricut. Useful for less precise cutting.

[nogling]

Bedding should be washed in higher temp water, and ideally line dried in the sun.

A quarter cup of white vinegar in the fabric softener dispenser (or tossed in during the rinse if you’re lucky enough to have an older washing machine without a locking lid) will soften clothes without damage and without residue.

Do not use fabric softener or dryer sheets on towels - they work by coating the fibers of your clothing, which makes them less absorbent.

Powdered laundry detergent is the best bang for your buck - liquid detergent has added water, and the pods are waaaaay too pricey + added water. A couple tablespoons of powder detergent and maybe a tablespoon of borax or washing soda will clean even the dirtiest of clothes.

Dry on the lowest heat possible for most clothing - low to medium is really all you need for anything but bedding - and line dry as much as possible. This will extend the lifespan of your clothing.

You don’t need a fancy lingerie bag for bras or delicate panties, either - just use a cheap cotton pillowcase and tie a knot to close it. This is especially important for bras, to keep the clasps from catching on other clothes in the wash.

If you have allergies or sensitive skin, the most important thing is to eliminate dye and fragrance from your detergent.

Heat sets protein - use cold water on blood or egg stains, and don’t put bloodstained clothing in the dryer.

If your whites are yellowing or look dingy, use laundry bluing - you can find it in the laundry aisle, and a little bit goes a loooong way.

If you starch your shirts, you’ll need to wash them in warm water to help break up the starch.

To quote UFYH - laundry, like dishes, has three steps. Wash, dry, and put away. How you store your clothing also affects its lifespan. Don’t fold clothes too tightly, use the widest hangers you can afford (smooth, thick plastic if you’re broke, wood if you aren’t), and don’t cram too many clothes in drawers. If you have wire or particle-board drawers, line them with packing paper before putting your clothes in them. This will help keep things from snagging and also help prevent the clothes from absorbing odors from the furniture. Heavy clothing and most knit fabrics should be folded, not hung, to keep them from distorting.

If the label says “dry clean only” and the garment has enclosed seams (lined jackets or waistcoats), do not attempt to wash it at home. It needs to be dry cleaned.

If the label says “dry clean only” and the garment is made of wool, you can probably hand wash in cold water and lay it flat to dry - but you’ll need to make sure you can reshape the garment before it dries.

If the label says “dry clean only” and the garment is made of silk, do not attempt to wash it at home. It needs to be dry cleaned.

If the label says “dry clean only” and the garment is made of linen, cotton, or polyester, you can likely hand wash it in cold water and lay it flat to dry. Linen, especially, is a really tough fiber. Linen bedsheets can be boiled safely, though it isn’t truly necessary.

Even cheaply made fast fashion clothing will last you several years with proper care. Quality thrifted items from the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s will last you another few decades, at least.

hey. listen. when you use too much detergent in your laundry you aren't making your clothes cleaner, you are making them degrade faster. the machine isn't able to rinse out the entire cup of soap you put in, so some of it is left in the fibers of your clothes. when they dry this makes the fabric stiffer and more brittle, so the fibers are more likely to erode and break. over time this makes your clothes wear out much faster than if they were properly rinsed with minimal soap. you are wasting money by overusing detergent, not just on the detergent itself but the clothes you are shortening the lifespan of.

[ailsa1005]

Henan White Coated Paper Pulping Machine Delivery Site

Email me for details: paperrecyclemachine@gmail.com

[exportsinsouthafrica]

What is duplex board paper? Custom Boxes & Packaging

Duplex board paper is a type of paperboard or cardboard that is widely used in packaging, particularly for making boxes for various products. Here are some key things you need to know about export of duplex board paper:

Composition: Duplex board is made from two layers of paper pulp that are bonded together with a thin layer of adhesive. The layers can be made from different types of paper depending on the desired characteristics of the final product.

Varieties: There are two main varieties of duplex board:

Grey Back Duplex Board: This type has a grey back, which provides stiffness and strength, making it suitable for packaging applications where the back of the board is not visible.

White Back Duplex Board: This type has a white coated surface on one side, which is smoother and provides a better printing surface. It is often used for products where the appearance of the packaging is important.

Weight and Thickness: Duplex board paper comes in a range of weights and thicknesses, typically measured in grams per square meter (gsm) or in points (thickness). Common weights can range from 200 gsm to 500 gsm or more, depending on the application.

Uses: Duplex board paper is primarily used in packaging applications such as:

Boxes: It is commonly used to make boxes for consumer goods, cosmetics, pharmaceuticals, and more.

Printed Material: The white back duplex board is also used for high-quality printed materials like posters, book covers, and displays.

Printing Compatibility: The white back duplex board provides a smooth and even surface, which is ideal for high-quality printing with offset printing machines. It allows for vibrant colors and detailed images.

Environmental Considerations: Duplex board paper can be made from recycled paper pulp, which makes it a relatively eco-friendly choice compared to some other types of packaging materials. It is also recyclable after use.

Strength and Durability: The composition of duplex board paper gives it good strength and durability, making it suitable for protecting products during transportation and handling.

Cost: The cost of duplex board paper can vary depending on factors such as weight, thickness, and whether it is made from virgin or recycled materials. It is generally more economical compared to some other packaging materials.

Understanding these key aspects of duplex board paper can help you make informed decisions about its use in packaging and printing applications.

[psatalk]

Carton industry continues to grow in India and globally

According to current research reports, the global carton industry is forecast to grow at a CAGR of 5% till 2033 to US$ 7.7 billion from the 2023 figure of US$ 4.7 billion. In India we see growth coming from eCommerce, food and beverages, FMCG, household products, and white goods. The variety of cartons keeps increasing from the simple monocarton, liquid packaging laminates, solid board luxury boxes, litho-laminated corrugated cartons and plain and white or bleached liner corrugated cartons. The litho-laminated e, f, and g-flute or micro-fluted cartons that incorporate recycled liners are seen as an economical solution providing a combination of better compression and protection while retaining their stand-out value on the shelf.

There is a perception that paper-based packaging or cartons are more sustainable than flexible packaging and there is some movement in this direction in the country too – although some of the special papers and coatings required to create barrier properties are not yet locally available as off-the-shelf inputs. Additionally, some of the uses of these cartons with barrier properties come from start-ups, niche and boutique products with volumes too low to justify the procurement and logistics costs of importing specialty papers.

Notably, Jitendra Rohilla of Komori India says, “Right now, many of our 6 and 7-color automated offset press installations are taking place at packaging converters as that industry is growing and will continue to grow. There are multiple factors for this growth including our small packaging consumption per capita, and the increasing wealth, young population, and the increasing focus on hygiene and shelf impact and shelf life.”

Venugopal Menon of Bobst India points out that the growth in packaging machinery is now driven by automation. He attributes the current growth to an increasing number of converters seeking automation solutions. Discussing Bobst Inda's performance in 2023, Menon noted that except for the corrugated segment, the company witnessed positive outcomes across the folding carton, flexible, and label segments. “We hope that the investment cycle in the corrugated board cycle will come back in 2024.”

In light of the changing needs of carton converters globally, Bobst has recently enhanced the automation and connectivity of its folder gluer portfolio by introducing a new generation of Expertfold, Visionfold, and Novafold machines.

TCPL, a packaging converter that produces both cartons and flexible packaging, recently entered the rigid box segment after acquiring a 100% stake in Creative Offset in late 2023. It commissioned three Zhongke automatic rigid box-making lines for manufacturing rigid and luxury boxes for mobile phones, smart watches, wearables, and the speciality gift packaging segment. Stating India has a lot of cell phone manufacturers and exporters, Pooja Rajpal, director of Zhongke India comments that business is good in India since the cellphone technology is changing fast, and everybody wants the latest phones – and the manufacturers need boxes for these.

One could see some of the impetus or energy in the local carton industry at Pamex 2024 in Mumbai, where companies like Komori, DGM, Bobst, and others announced several deals at the show. DGM India announced ten deals for its die-cutters, folder gluers, and flute laminators at Pamex. This businesslike optimism persists even in the face of currently flat top-line growth among converters because of the benign price of raw materials. While converted carton tonnage has increased in the past year, the soft prices of paperboard have led to modest increases in top-line revenues.

While research reports forecast a carton industry boom in the coming decade, the Asia Pacific region is emerging as a particularly lucrative market due to its high population, rapid industrialization and increasing consumer goods demand. Compact, modular and increasingly automated cartoning machines with quick changeover capabilities will gain traction with the need for flexibility and adaptability in handling diverse product lines.

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 1, Episode 4

Episode 4 picks up maybe a week or two after episode 3 ends, and we're attending Erik's funeral.

Culture: Close relatives to the deceased wear white ties, not to be confused with the dress code white tie, which is something completely different.

Culture: In the funeral liturgy of the Church of Sweden, the priest pours a handful of earth on the coffin, and intones "Av jord är du kommen. Jord skall du åter varda." - From the earth you came and to the earth you shall return. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Culture: The green berets marks these soldiers as members of Livgardet, providing a royal guard of honour, as they have since they were formed in 1521, making them one of the world's oldest military units still in existence. They wear an insignia of the current monarch on their berets, and it's too blurry to make out, but it's definitely not the real-world one, so it could be something made up for Queen Kristina. The green berets and uniforms mark these soldiers as members of Amfibiekåren, which is where Erik was doing his military service. We know this because it's the same uniform as he's wearing in episode 1, except he's wearing the viking helmet insignia on his chest, since he's not wearing a beret where it normally sits. Thanks @sflow-er for the correction!

The blue board with numbers on it denotes which psalms were sung during the service, according to the hymnal of the Church of Sweden. They sang 289 - "God's love is like the shore and like the grass", 297 - "Lovely is the Earth", and 256 - "Don't be afraid".

Culture: The two honour guards at the back are wearing Carolean uniforms from the late 1600's. They were the fighting force that made Sweden an empire, for a brief century.

As the TV broadcast later shows, the funeral takes place in Johanneskyrkan in Stockholm, which is just a random church, and not where a royal funeral would actually be held. The real deal would happen in Riddarholmskyrkan, where all of Sweden's monarchs of old are buried.

Subtext: The business of the royal family doesn't stop, and with Erik dead, Wilhelm has to take over all of his duties and essentially learn how to run the business, because he's going to take over one day.

Subtext: Be straight, have kids, keep the royal family going across the ages. Only Wilhelm can do it now that Erik is dead. No pressure, though!

Subtext: The idea that you can simply pay to get ahead is completely natural for the upper-class kids at Hillerska, they don't see anything wrong with it. Linda is absolutely not upper-class though, so to her, the idea is horrible, and she thought she had taught Simon the values of her class, and is shocked he has adopted an upper-class value instead.

Subtext: August is an insecure, jealous little bitch, #1.

Cinematography: We've moved forward in time and it's now probably in the middle of November. The weather is appropriately gloomy for Erik's memorial service, all the leaves have dropped from the trees, and it looks nothing like the happier times at the beginning of the school year.

Wilhelm is also wearing a more formal suit matching the mood, and if you look carefully, you can see that he has started wearing Erik's watch. (A GANT Cleveland, btw. I don't think anyone upper-class would be caught dead wearing something as cheap as that, but I guess the production didn't have unlimited budget. May I suggest this lovely Hublot for the next season instead? It would really make a statement, and it's a steal at $70k!)

Culture: The paper with the speech features some sort of coat of arms, presumably the one for this fictional royal house, and it looks vaguely like the real Swedish coat of arms.

We should also all be happy that Wilhelm stopped reading his prepared speech, because it was a bland, politically correct, emotionally empty product of the PR machine of the royal family.

Subtext: Growing up knowing of your future inheritance must affect you pretty strongly. It's good that Erik and Wilhelm were able to joke about it, but it must sting a little to think of yourself as "the spare", wondering if your parents conceived you because they wanted to, or because they needed to.

Subtext: At this point, Wilhelm has decided to go all-in on being the best crown prince he can be, which means he has resigned himself to his fate, which in turn is why he's breaking up with Simon moments later. August is of course overjoyed at seeing this new Wilhelm.

Subtext: Since Wilhelm has now been elevated to crown prince, all the staff is aware that he's now the future king of Sweden, so they're upping the formality when talking to him.

Subtext: Only when the headmistress breaks the formality by addressing him by his name...

Subtext: ...does he break down, and go for the hug he so desperately needs.

Subtext: And to further reinforce how Wilhelm is now even more trapped than before, he picks up the frog prince snow globe again.

Culture: The bodyguards don't work for the royal family, they work for the government, protecting people in the interest of national security. They don't take orders from Wilhelm, or the queen, so they're not going to leave him alone, no matter how much he screams at them.

The subs and dubs are inconsistent here, btw: In the original audio, Malin says "Ja, jag är hemskt ledsen", and the regular English subtitles say "Yes, I'm very sorry", but in the English dub and the English CC subtitles, Malin says "No, I'm terribly sorry". Even though she says "yes" in the original, she's actually not going to leave him alone, because they both move to follow him anyway.

Subtext: Simon moves his dad over into a semi-prone position to ensure he doesn't choke to death in case he throws up while passed out. This whole sad scene also tells us that this isn't the first time Simon has had to do this for his dad, and he's also incredibly disappointed, because for all his dad's talk about seeing his family again and getting back on his feet, he's still an alcoholic.

Blink and you miss it: Felice tries to help herself along to an orgasm since August isn't exactly doing it for her, but since he's an insecure jealous little bitch, he doesn't let her.

Subtext: August is an insecure, jealous little bitch, #3.

Blink and you miss it: Madison asks Felice if having sex with August felt "royal", a throwback to their discussion in episode 1.

Subtext: August is actually admitting that a lot of the students at school are abusing drugs to improve their performance.

Lost in translation: Sara actually says "Jag vill inte att vi ska vara ovänner", which means that she doesn't want to be "not-friends". The negation has to be flipped in English because there's no good way to translate ovän, but that makes it lose some of the meaning.

Subtext: Madison saying what's on everyone's mind again!

Subtext: August is an insecure, jealous little bitch, #4. It's almost like it's the theme of the episode!

Subtext: For all his faults, Micke's greatest fear is that Simon is going to go down the same path as him, become an alcoholic or a drug addict, which is why he's always asking if Simon is using himself, just like he asked about the booze for the initiation party.

Subtext: Alexander doesn't have a key, because he's not part of the Society. He's basically their errand boy, and I don't even know why he puts up with it. Come on Alexander, you can do so much better than hanging around these assholes! Be free!

Subtext: Be straight, have kids, keep the royal family going across the ages. No pressure, though!

Culture: Yeah, why isn't Nils here? In an earlier scene, August grabs Vincent while he's playing chess with Nils, and rudely excludes Nils. What was that about?

Oh, have I talked about nicknames yet? You have probably picked up that characters switch between using other character's real names and their nicknames. Everyone knows these nicknames, because they are formed according to rules. Generally, for male names, the name is phonetically simplified and gets an "e" at the end. So we get Wilhelm - Wille, Simon - Simme, Nils - Nisse, Mikael - Micke, Alexander - Alex, Per - Pelle, Kristian - Krille.

Culture: And here comes the explanation, Nils isn't noble, so he's excluded from this, even though he is a popular third-year student and best friends with Vincent and August. He has money, but no title, no land, no heritage; he's nouveau riche. If Forest Ridge is Slytherin in general, this is the secret muggle-hating pureblood deatheater cabal at the heart of it, and they don't accept just anyone with money.

Culture: Although being noble doesn't confer any government privileges any longer, their titles are historically protected by law. The nobility is linked to the royalty, because if the monarchy should fall, if the country abandons it, the country might also decide that nobility is bullshit as well, and remove the title protection. If everyone is noble, no-one is noble, and the members of this little club would get really sad.

Subtext: This is a bit of nice foreshadowing for the future plot, but they actually mean it. They're professing their loyalty to Wilhelm, because he's going to be the future king of Sweden, he's going to outrank them all one day, and being close to him is going to be valuable.

Culture: The king of Belgium is King Filip.

Subtext: This will pop up later, and it's equal parts jealousy, and equal parts the fact that August thinks he'd take it more seriously, that he'd do a better "job" of protecting the monarchy than Wilhelm. Meanwhile, Wilhelm didn't ask for this, he doesn't want the duty and the scrutiny, and would actually happily swap with August if he could.

Cinematography: Although Simon is looking straight at the camera here, he actually isn't breaking the fourth wall. We're simply seeing him from Wilhelm's perspective, just like we've seen him before when they kissed for the first time.

Subtext: The first thing Simon does is to check Wilhelm's pupils, and this tells us that this is something he's done before, probably when taking care of his dad. This scene also heartbreakingly mirrors the earlier scene with Simon and his dad with Simon coming to the rescue in both cases. He's given up on his dad, but he's clearly afraid that Wilhelm might go down the same path and that he's gonna have to rescue him again and again.

Subtext: This scene mirrors an earlier scene in the episode when Simon asks Wilhelm how he's doing just after Erik's memorial at school. Back then, Wilhelm is cold, lies that "he's ok", and breaks up with Simon. This time though, he says that "he's better", because he is with Simon, which is what he actually wanted the whole time.

Culture: Is August doing something illegal here? Yes! Is it because it's child pornography? No, because if it was, Netflix wouldn't be allowed to distribute the show! The reason this is illegal is because it's revenge porn, which was made illegal in Sweden as late as 2018. Only a few countries have made this illegal so far, because it used to be very difficult to produce. Now that everyone has a high-definition recording device in their pockets, it's easier to make, and therefore becomes a bigger problem in society.

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien - From the Heart Date

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Recently, the company undertook a variety show on love. Today is the first day of filming of the new program.

The gate of the studio is facing a leisure park. After winter, the fallen leaves of the platanus will cover the road and creak when stepping on it.

There are occasional wild boars here, but nearby residents always place cat food for them in conspicuous places, so their lives are quite moist.

He always eats chubby, lying on the fallen leaves in the sun.

It happened that Xu Mo had a lecture today at a nearby hotel, and we made an appointment to have lunch together in this park.

But the work in the morning ended a little later than expected.

When I arrived in the park in a hurry, Xu Mo seemed to have been sitting on a bench for a long time.

The winter sun poured a lot of wine on his shoulders, drawing a warm light on his slightly drooping side face.

After running his fingers across a few lines of headlines on the news, he casually turned a page of the newspaper lying on his lap.

Perhaps disturbed by the sound of the paper, the magpie, which had been resting on the treetops, suddenly spread its wings to win the sky, hovering around the plane trees behind him.

With a "click" sound from the phone, Xu Mo raised his head and met my sight in the golden sun.

I was about to speak, but Xu Mo laughed a step ahead of me.

Xu Mo: Don't be sorry, it didn't take long.

MC: Professor Xu knows how to read minds, he can guess what am I thinking.

Xu Mo: Mind reading is simple, and so will you. If you don’t believe me, you can try and guess what I’m thinking now.

MC: You should be thinking how to punish this late person?

Xu Mo: Well, a good guess.

MC: Why not punish her to eat dinner with Professor Xu at night.

I sat down next to Xu Mo. He put away the newspapers and took out the coffee and sandwiches prepared for me from the paper bag.

Xu Mo: It's a good proposal. However, your new show has received very enthusiastic response. The filming of the last few issues should be very busy, right?

MC: These two days are okay, and no matter how busy the work is, it is no more important than eating with Professor Xu.

I took the coffee and opened the drinking spout on the lid of the cup, and a hazelnut scent spread immediately, making the noon breeze mixed with the sweetness of winter.

MC: How about you, how about today's lecture?

MC: Sneak out during lunch break...

MC: It should disappoint many professors who want to have lunch with you and take the opportunity to exchange a few more words, right?

Xu Mo gave a frank hum, but his expression was always relaxed and casual.

Xu Mo: It doesn't matter, I have a valid reason, they can understand.

He crossed his legs, leaned back in the chair and squinted.

Xu Mo: I told them that I was in charge of the program as a consultant and encountered some problems during the filming, so I had to take the time to communicate with the producer at noon.

I was stunned for a moment.

MC: Professor Xu, based on my assessment of the status quo, it can be understood as: Have you lied to them?

Xu Mo showed a serious expression.

Xu Mo: If the producer is willing to talk to me about the shooting of the show, I think this cannot be called a lie.

Xu Mo: How is it, has the problem you mentioned to me been solved?

During the shooting of this love variety show, something unexpected happened to me.

A female guest told us after the filming of several episodes of the show that she really had a feeling for a male guest on the show.

She proposed an idea and wanted to make a confession part in the program.

This is not only a brilliant idea in terms of program effects, but also fits the theme of the variety show. After several discussions, we decided to cooperate with her in planning.

But the specific way of confession made us tangled for several days.

MC: At that time, we were a little too solemn when we wanted to give gifts. We were deliberately alone and afraid of embarrassment.

Xu Mo turned to me with his arm on the back of the chair, listening patiently.

Xu Mo: And now, is there a conclusion?

MC: Of course~ I am very professional in doing matchmaker.

I vividly described to Xu Mo the opinions that the program team finally reached.

MC: We are going to put her confession note in the clue box in advance.

MC: This is a puzzle-solving session of a two-person team. When the time comes, the male guest will be alone to open the box.

MC: If he is surprised when he sees this note, it will be Happy Ending!

After listening to my description, Xu Mo sighed.

Xu Mo: It takes courage to express your feelings frankly.

Xu Mo: Girls, are always braver than I thought.

The prosperous sunshine shrouded Xu Mo, and I looked sideways at his silhouette overlapping with the light, and every corner of my heart was covered with light emotions.

There are long white clouds floating in the sky, I am holding hot coffee, and my thoughts are also floating slowly.

MC: The moment when ‘liking’ happen, the feeling of heartbeat becomes a seed.

MC: It will grow instinctively, facing the sun and rain.

MC: As for what kind of flower will eventually bloom, it may no longer be important.

MC: The important thing is an instinct.

I leaned closer to Xu Mo, looking at him tightly with my eyes, making a meaningful hint.

MC: As long as this person's eyes look at me, the sun will pour down, and the seeds will surely break through the soil.

He propped his chin and smiled faintly.

Xu Mo: Is it the same instinct as moths attracted to fire?

MC: .....

I suddenly stopped talking.

Xu Mo showed some doubts.

Xu Mo: Did I say something wrong?

MC: Hahaha although it is a bit horrible... but what I think of is a big mosquito lying on the lampshade.

The warm atmosphere was inexplicably broken, and Xu Mo's expression was emotional.

MC: So it's better not a moth, it can be a better looking insect.

Xu Mo: .....

Xu Mo: Haha.... hahahahaha

I don't know why I got into his smile. Xu Mo laughed out of nowhere. He even stooped slightly and put his forehead on my shoulder.

After a while, he raised his head and looked at me, still smiling while talking.

Xu Mo: Well, it's not a moth, it's the instinct of the world's best-looking insect to attack the source of fire.

Seeing that Xu Mo was in such a good mood, I couldn't help but want to tease him a little bit, so I deliberately made a distressed expression, sighed and lowered my head.

MC: What a pity....

Xu Mo: What's wrong?

I took the last bite of the sandwich and patted the crumbs on my fingers, pretending.

MC: The atmosphere was so good just now, I could have taken the opportunity to kiss you.

I caught the slight astonishment in Xu Mo's eyes, and learned his tone mischievously.

MC: I'm teasing you, don't be nervous.

Suddenly he got up and stepped in front of me, bent down directly, and got close to the distance that crossed my breath.

The clear eyes in front of me fell into a pale yellow halo, swaying gentle ripples.

He did nothing, was silent, and looked at me quietly with these eyes.

One second, two seconds, five seconds...ten seconds.

I lowered my gaze subconsciously several times, but every time I lifted it up again, I could see an inch of smile on his lips.

Damn it, lost again!

I turned my face in discouragement, put on a stubborn expression and no longer looked at him, he gave a triumphant smile, and pressed his lips to my forehead.

Xu Mo: Okay, I have to go back to work.

Xu Mo: The spare key is still in the same place. If you can't find it, remember to send me a message.

The voice was soaked with warmth, as if the sun had melted in it all winter.

I feel my auricles are burnt red, nodded.

At the end of lunch time, I hurried back to the studio.

In the afternoon, I mainly took some empty shots with very little content. The ending time was two hours earlier than I expected.

According to the agreement with Xu Mo, I went to his house in advance to wait for him.

When the door was pushed, the wind from the balcony exposed the corridor, blowing a bunch of papers hung on the wall. I quickly closed the door and walked to the paper curiously.

MC: When did Xu Mo paint these...

A thin hemp rope hung on the wall, and seven or eight semi-finished paintings were clamped on them with wooden clips.

All the paintings are me.

I was standing in the snow, I was squatting on the ground to pick up maple leaves, and I was standing in the wheat ears during an outing...

The reason they are said to be semi-finished products is because Xu Mo only gave them half the color.

Many scenes still have traces of sketches, only me and the things around me have color.

It is like a drop of paint falling in water. The color in the middle is dense. The more it spreads, the lighter the color.

But there is only me in these paintings...

I personally made the next decision and took out the easel from the corner of the balcony.

MC: But...

I looked down at my cashmere coat. If I rubbed the paint, it should not be easy to wash.

After a short hesitation, I pulled out a white coat from Xu Mo's laundry basket, which he had not put in the washing machine, and replaced it.

I'll help him wash all these later.

After I was ready, I rolled up my sleeves, picked up the paintbrush and traced Xu Mo's profile on the drawing paper...

Time always flies quickly when you focus on doing things.

When I raised my head again, the window was already a little gloomy, leaving only a faint golden sunset on the curtains.

There was a creaking sound from the door. Once I looked back, I found that Xu Mo had already walked in.

Xu Mo: Sure enough, you were earlier than me.

He put down his briefcase and put on slippers.

Xu Mo: Are you painting?

MC: Uh, yeah~

Xu Mo: It's a good pastime. I'm still worried on the way back. You won't know how to pass the time.

I put aside the paintbrush, stretched my waist, and scratched my wrist.

MC: Although I used Professor Xu's drawing board without authorization, I have a reasonable use.

I removed the half-colored draft from the drawing board and showed it to Xu Mo excitedly.

MC: Although the grading is a little frustrating....

MC: The color of the hair is darker, the complexion on the face is whiter, and the lip color seems too red.

MC: But on the whole, it still shows 80% of the beauty of Professor Xu.

MC: How do you rate it?

Xu Mo didn't speak, but just stared at the painting in my hand and looked again.

He lightened his tone, and gently ran his fingers across the paint on the painting, and the wet color was on his fingertips.

Xu Mo: The painting is so good, I like it very much.

Seeing him a little lost, I shook the painting in my hand in front of him again.

MC: Andㅡit has a little secret!

I took one of Xu Mo's paintings, overlapped the two papers, and clamped it in between.

Although the brushstrokes are different and the colors are very different, the backgrounds of the two paintings can blend together well.

The golden wheat field connects to the azure blue sky, me and Xu Mo are facing each other in the painting, and our eyes intersect.

Naturally as if this is the original picture, there should be two people

MC: It didn't turn over!!! 

Before I painted, I didn't expect that my technique had advanced to this level.

Xu Mo stood behind me at some point, stretched out his hand to embrace my waist from behind, and pulled me into his arms.

Xu Mo: The painting is very good, I really like it.

I look back and stuck to the his side profile.

Xu Mo: I also like the paintings you paint, but if the paintings are the two of us together, I would like them better.

Xu Mo tightened his arms.

Xu Mo: I didn't mean it.

Xu Mo: Otherwise, if you talk about it, people don't have themselves in their memory. How do you draw a picture of two people?

MC: Hm.

MC: You're right.

Xu Mo's chuckle came in my ears. I pressed against the warmth of his chest and looked at the painting in front of me.

MC: Xu Mo, are you painting these, is it something to commemorate?

MC: I look at these paintings. They are all scenes from our previous trips. Some of them are from a long time ago.

Xu Mo: It is a part of memories, but it is not a memorial.

Xu Mo: It's just that these pictures are all in my mind, so I simply painted them.

Xu Mo: Or...

He paused suddenly.

Without urging me, we fell into a long silence.

The setting sun outside the window has completely sunk below the horizon, and in the dim room, the sound of the two people's interlaced breathing one after another

The gloomy light cast our shadows on the wall. From this angle, I saw that his bent waist ridge showed a slight arch.

The skin on the side of the neck is filled with a moist smell, which is the breath of Xu Mo that I am most familiar with.

Xu Mo: MC, there are some people in this world.

He spoke slowly, his voice was always calm, and his arms tightened again around my waist.

Xu Mo: Not realizing that "heartbeat" is the beginning of all beautiful stories

Xu Mo: When they find that they have the emotion of "like", the first thing they feel is uneasy.

Xu Mo: They will choose to suppress themselves, resist the occurrence of "likes", and always remind themselves not to fall into this emotion.

Xu Mo: The heartbeat they feel is a complex emotion mixed with anxiety.

Xu Mo: For such people, it can be difficult to express yourself frankly.

Xu Mo put his chin on my shoulder, and stretched out his hand, rubbing his palm on the drawing paper in front of him.

Xu Mo: I have been practicing this candor since a long time ago.

Xu Mo: What you see is the result of practice.

MC: ....

I was speechless for a while and didn't know how to describe my feelings at the moment.

He suddenly bent over and picked me up, strode to the front hall, and put me on the table.

Dark blue night was thrown into the room, and the deep eyes that were close at hand had dark gutters, and they were silently conveying something.

Xu Mo: Or maybe I paint these paintings just to tell you what kind of flowers the seed planted in my heart bloomed.

The ice layer, which had been covered by snow for a long time, finally cracked a tiny mark and made an inaudible sound, but it clearly fell into my ears at this moment.

What followed was that the invading ice tide finally broke through the heavy ice and flowed into the spring.

I fixedly looked at him, as if finally seeing the person in front of me as the person I knew best.

Xu Mo: You are right, the upward growth of seeds is an instinct.

Xu Mo: Even if you know that you will risk tears when you build bonds with others.

Xu Mo: Even if this effect can be explained by factors such as dopamine, phenylethylamine, norepinephrine, and endorphins, I cannot suppress this instinct.

He paused and took my hand to his lips.

Xu Mo: I am willing to obey this instinct.

All the language that expresses emotions is stuck in my throat, and there is no way to convey and vent it.

Xu Mo smiled and came up.

When our lips touched, I saw the tide surge in his eyes.

Xu Mo: .....

All the senses are overwhelmed by such turbulent emotions, as if falling into the deep sea, the hands we hold together are tightly clasped.

Sanity is slowly being pulled away, only the hot breath is getting stronger and stronger.

I opened my eyes slightly, and saw the most straightforward expression in his eyes, which he always used to be silent.

MC: Xu Mo....

Between my lips and the tip of my tongue, I called his name softly, as if reading a mark on my heart.

Xu Mo: Hm..

Slowly, Xu Mo's lips and teeth went down and gently bit on the side of my neck. I was itchy by him. Several times I tried to turn my head to avoid, but I was caught by him.

He seemed to be aroused, and nibble all the way from the side of the neck to the earlobe.

I stepped back half an inch, and he went one foot in until he forced me to the corner, completely circled into his arm.

MC: Xu Mo, you  shameless...

After I protested in a low voice, he finally let go of me slightly, his eyes full of interest.

Xu Mo: I know.

Xu Mo: But no matter what I want, you will satisfy me, won't you?

MC: Bad guy.

He has an innocent tone.

Xu Mo: Is this a bad guy?

I nodded heavily.

He put on an expression of serious thinking, but reached a conclusion within a few seconds.

Xu Mo: Apart from making you a little irritated, there seems to be nothing wrong with being a bad guy.

Xu Mo: Besides, your face now is really cute.

Xu Mo: People can't help but want to bullied the cute.

MC: ...

MC: You are still righteous!

Xu Mo: Oh, yes.

Xu Mo smiled, buried his head on my shoulder, and exhaled gently.

Xu Mo: MC, Do you know what instinct brings me?

He opened his mouth softly and whispered.

Xu Mo: Happiness.

Xu Mo: A pleasure in which desires are satisfied and worries are filled.

Xu Mo: In other words, it is this kind of happiness that makes me unable to resist this instinct.

His hand slid across my waist, cupped my cheek, and kissed every inch of my skin.

But every time, it was just a light touch.

Not a strong desire, I feel more of a gentle invasion at this moment.

From the side of the neck to the cheeks, from the corners of the lips to the eyes.

Like tides over the ankles and fine sand over the toes.

He distanced himself and looked into my eyes carefully.

Xu Mo: I want to thank the light coming from these eyes.

Xu Mo: Let the seed in my heart bloom a beautiful flower.

Hot fingertips ran across my skin, Xu Mo clasped my hand and pushed me completely against the wall.

The fine kisses linger on the side of the neck, and he sucks lightly and hardly, leaving warm red marks on it.

The night enveloped the city.

The deep night mixed with the beautiful blue slowly spread out, and the deep background color was reflected in Xu Mo's eyes.

Xu Mo: I am glad I did not miss the beginning of this wonderful story.

Xu Mo: As for the ending of this story...

Xu Mo: What do you hope it looks like?

I thought for a while, but couldn't answer.

MC: I didn't think about it.

MC: But it must be better than the beginning.

I stretched out my hand to pull Xu Mo's tie, and skillfully pulled it out of the collar.

However, the brain becomes clear inexplicably under the action of complex sensory organs, and plays back one memory after another.

MC: In fact, at the beginning, I was not always firm, and I was a little uneasy, a little bit uncertain.….

MC: I often feel that you are in front of me, but so far from me.

Xu Mo paused slightly, but did not stop.

Xu Mo: And then?

I tried to think about it, and couldn't help but giggle.

MC: I'm so happy, so happy that could forget this anxiety

MC: You look happy when you look at me, and you are happy when you talk to me.

MC: If you stay with me for a little while, I can even be happy all day.

Xu Mo reached out and stroked the side of my face, sighing in a low voice

Xu Mo: Silly girl.

I pulled on his collar, trying to get him closer to me.

MC: Xu Mo, I want to hug you.

MC: ... also want to be held by you.

Xu Mo pulled me completely into his arms, tightening his arms hard enough to prevent us from leaving a little gap.

I clung to his embrace and kept in mind every bit of his feelings.

Looking back now, maybe all the good stories in the world have their beginnings to follow.

But someone stood in front of me, and I was very happy because of it.

Then he looked at me, and my heart bloomed.

---------- END ----------

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

[themysteriousauthor18]

Android Alastor oneshot [Radiodust]

Saw this art of Angel making an Android Alastor. Thought it was a really cool idea and wanted to make a oneshot of it!

Artist of the AMAZING art above:

The darkness slowly faded away, and something not bright, but a little less dark took its place. 

It's vision focused, a blurry image focusing itself down to the finer details. A warmer color invaded his vision, one that his brain came to know as...pink. This 'pink' seemed to cover most of the interior of the room. 

And as a pair of eyes looked around, it took note of the tiles on the floor, the cooler temperature, and metallic walling. 

A basement.

It's mind concluded. 

A small room within a basement, an empty chair seat in front of them, and a desk noticeably messy to their left were what caught its attention. It was unable to turn its head very much, or even it's body. But from its angle, it could barely make out what appeared to be skeptics of a robot to the left wall, just over the desk.

I want to move.

It thought. Pulling against what felt to be restraints, but decided it was best not to. Lest they damage anything. 

It's prying came to a halt when it picked up the soft tapping of shoes against the flooring. In the dim lighting, they could see a shadow drawing closer to the entrance of the room archway. 

They only patiently waited, eyes focusing in on the outline of something coming to a pause in the doorway. 

No, someone. 

They corrected. 

A human, and one quite disheveled. Blonde hair hastily tied back into a pony-tail. A white labcoat lazily draped around their arms leaving the tank top exposed. Their legs dressed in pink and purple stockings for small black heeled boots to cover their feet. 

This human seemed rather distressed. For once they saw the pair of eyes looking at them, they suddenly dropped the mug in their hands causing the brownish liquid to pour out onto the floor. 

Hands flying up to cover their mouth and wide green eyes staring in shock, they took a step closer. "Oh my god.." They muttered. 

Its head tilted as it examined the human furthur, smiling. 

The blonde-haired human was practically jogging in their spot, grinning once they removed their hands. 

"Holy shit it worked! O-okay okay okay..." They calmed themselves quickly hopping back into their chair and looking up into those eyes. Their chair swayed with them as they moved, resting hands between their legs.

"System AI begin start-up." They said barely containing the excitement in their voice.

The being was confused as its vision was suddenly invaded by multiple warnings, notifications, and many other things of which they didn't understand. After a moment or two, they cleared away. Leaving it's vision clear once more. 

Looking back down at the human who was lightly bouncing in the chair, eyes sparkling with anticipation he waited for them to say something else. 

"Alright-do you know who I am?" They asked, expression falling a little as if nervous.

The being tilted their head, eyes tracing over the person's body. Focusing in on little details such as the adam's apple in their throat, hair color, skin color, voice, and many other details.

After a moment, the being spoke. "You are Anthony Giuliani. A 23-year-old male. You are 69% Italian and 40%-"

Before it could finish its sentence the man sprung off from his seat practically jumping for joy.

"Holy shit it works! YOU work!" 

"Your heart rate has increased by 20%." 

The blonde paused in his celebratory victory and looked to the being. A frown played on his lips as he scratched his head. 

"Your tawking like your a robot. Damn...I thought I made you deviant. Shit guess it's somethin' well have to work on." He shook his head moving over to the wall and pressing something.

With a faint beeping the being felt something distracted itself from its back. It stood a little more freely now, nothing, in particular, holding it in place anymore. 

Taking a step back, the Italian moved over to pick up the mug he'd originally dropped. Setting it on his desk he turned back to the being, coat lazily draping around his hips as he rested his hands there.

"Alright...first of all, call me Angel. Angel Dust. Got it?"

The being blinked a few times, a small red circle on its temple blinking with them. "Yes. Angel Dust." It repeated in a mono-toned voice. 

The man looked annoyed by the tone but said nothing. "Second, what do you want your name to be?" 

The being stared, confused. 

"That is not in my function." It simply stated.

Angel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay look. YOU are an android. I made you, but you're to..." he paused trying to find the right words. "Robotic. I can't have a boyfriend whose all emotionless and robily." 

" 'Robily' is not a real word." 

The blonde scoffed. "Well, there's a start." He turned away, being mindful of the pool of coffee on the floor. "I'll be right back, take a look around. Just don't go too far." 

"Very well." It stated. 

Once the human left, the android quietly turned to look around the room, no longer restrained. 

Looking at it from this angle, the android realized it was not quite just a room but a lab more accurately put. Shelves of books and a few trophies lined some of the walls. While for the rest mainly consisted of boxes holding various android parts. 

A whiteboard lay on the main wall of the room, opposite to the wall the desk lay in front of. Equations and measurements were drawn all over the board. Some even rough illustrations of a model. 

It turned and walked over to the desk, having a clearer vision of the schematic hanging over the desk he could now see there was something written on it.

'Project AL4570R Aka the perfect boyfriend.'

It read.

  ...[.Decoding.]...

.....[.Result: Alastor ]....

...[Update: Name may be Alastor]...

...[Gender: Male?]...

It turned away, finding that its hands rested behind its back. A motion that felt comfortable for it. 

Stepping back over near the entrance, a standing mirror greeted it.

As it looked at the reflection, it's head tilted to the side at the image. Not a human greeted it, but rather a tall.....deer man? 

Simply put it was a deer man.

More intricately put, they looked to be human safe for the large pair of red eyes, and deer ears all to obviously attached to the tops of its head. Its hair was a crimson red, the tips being a dark black, it's skin some shade of brown almost greyish. 

With the monocle over one of its eyes, black gloves, and the black to red tailcoat, it both wore and made up its body, gave it a more refined appearance. The small bow tie on its neck seemed to somehow bring it all together. 

"I'm back." 

Its head turned immediately as a machine would to a sound as the human entered back. A mop in his hand. 

"Already like looking at yourself huh?" Angel joked, noticing the androids staring at the mirror. 

Not replying to the comment, the android turned as Angel mopped up the spilled coffee. 

"You had said 'boyfriend'. My knowledge tells me that is a term associated with men in a non-platonic relationship. So am I a male then." 

Pausing in the mopping, Angel leaned on its handle smiling to the android. "Well look at you gettin' all smart and shit. Let's see, do you know your name too?" 

The human continued to mop up the mess. 

"Alastor." The android stated.

Putting the mob aside, the mess is picked up, the human turned towards the android almost impressed. 

"Bingo. Now, I'm gonna need to run some tests. See how your internal hard drive is and make sure the pump is regulating that blue blood enough so you don't die on me. That be annoyin' to deal with." The blonde muttered to himself sidestepping the android.

Alastor watched curiously as the human shuffled through his papers on the desk. 

Those large red eyes scanned the room once again, landing on something they handed seen before. 

A small box sitting beside the desk some old song playing through it. With its interest peaked, Alastor moved over to the desk once more kneeling down because it was rather tall, and peered at the small box.

Angel paused and looked over to the android, smiling a little. "Do you like that?" 

The android poked at the box. "My scanners tell me this device is called a radio." 

An amused laugh came from the human as he sat down in his chair at the desk. Moved his hand over to switch the dial and by extension the channel. 

The android's ears moved back at the sudden noise. "Huh, that's fuckin' adorable," Angel muttered, fascinated. Turning his attention back to the radio, "yeah but I keep it in here sometimes just to listen to music." 

The android repeated the same motion, switching the dails. Its eyes growing in amazement. 

Angel laughed as the android continued to fiddle with it. 

"Maybe your more of a deviant than I thought." 

[ktheist]

pretty girls don’t get hurt | m

synopsis. your mom has been asking you for a grandchild - not even a son-in-law but the baby to said nonexistent son-in-law! and your dad is hitting an age where he can barely work anymore. at some point you’re going to take over his position as the chairman of the family hospital but you know nothing about medicine. that’s where kim seokjin comes in. he’ll marry you and become the chairman so you can keep your ceo position and you’ll get a child out of him too. it’s like killing two birds with one stone.

except there’s one problem: you’ve never met the man and you need him to agree to the marriage first. okay, make that two problems.

muses. heir!doctor!seokjin x heiress!ceo!reader x best friend!heir!taehyung

words. 15.6k

contents. slowburn. sexual tension. impregnation kink. daddy/older men kink. viagra is involved lmao. 

warnings. matured content.

verse. knj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

x

“you want my what?”

seokjin’s jaw hangs loose, brows coming together in a show of frustrated bewilderment. it’s tells you enough that he heard you the first time but then again, you’re not asking him for dinner. you’re asking him for-

“your hand in marriage.” glossed lips curl upwards underneath the pristine white cup of hot coffee from the vending machine.

you watch as his widened eyes narrow. lips smack together and finally anger settles in the muscles of his hardening expression. “you’re joking.”

it’s understandable that he’d feel offended. even more so when it’s coming from a stranger who strode right into his office and introduced herself as the chairman’s daughter - the ceo. that’s probably the only reason he agreed to spare you his time - and you’re spending it for this.

it’d be a lie if you say you weren’t surprised that he didn’t know the ceo of the hospital he’s working at but judging from the way he treats you, like he has better things to do - lives to save, you know he’s that type of person. the mad scientist version of a doctor. doesn’t attend annual dinners. doesn’t take off days. he’s perfect.

“dad’s getting old and he needs someone to succeed him but i don’t know anything about medicine - i’m more of a businesswoman and the board wants someone of a clinical background to continue the tradition. if it were up to me, medical expenses would be much higher per patient but i’m also not a capitalist so i need someone on the field to tell me how things are at the hospital so we don’t overcharge nor do we undercharge.”

his eye is twitching at the end of your words and his jaw is clenched in suppression of agitation. at this point, you’re going to have to keep it short so not to drop the whole bomb on him before he himself explodes. “so how bout it? you marry me and become the next chairman and i’ll take care of all the non-clinical related matters. if you were to decline... i can’t guarantee things will remain the same after dad retires.”

“my break is over. it’s nice meeting you miss ___ but i hope we don’t run into each other again.” the chair screeches backwards when he stands up abruptly before you can even finish your sentence. he didn’t even check the time when he swipes his phone off the table and slips it right into his pocket. his words are as clear as day: this is the first and last time we meet.

“you still have ten more minutes, doctor kim.” for some reason he hasn’t stormed off - dare you say, he’s even taking what you said seriously - good. because you’re not here for a laugh either. you meet his heated gaze with ease. “i’m not sure you understand but you’re the cinderella and i’m the prince charming.”

you take out a single midnight scented card and slide it over to seokjin. “and this is a proposal, not a blackmail. call me when you’re ready to talk about the terms for the prenup.”

x

it’s been a week since you left your card with seokjin.

now, sitting in your office, the scene keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record. a scream erupts in the otherwise pleasantly silent room as you slump in your seat, hands digging into your hair as though if you rub your head hard enough, the memories would fade away. “taehyung, how did i even get that confidence? a prenup? he didn’t even say yes!”

the aforementioned man spares you a glance from the couch he’s lying on before going back to typing away on his phone. it’s probably yuju - one of his recent acquaintances. if you remember correctly, she’s the daughter of sbs’ ceo.

“boys are simple minded beings, give it another day and he’ll call you.” he casually assures, this time not even look away from his phone.

the sleek back hair and black button down underneath seokjin’s white coat flashes at the back of your mind. you don’t see that many doctors wearing something that needs ironing to work that often. sure there’s a dress code but your dad isn’t strict about it - all that mattered to him is the quality of one’s work. for all he cares, these doctors can come to work in pj’s. it’s you that had to make sure they don’t come in pj’s. collared t-shirts are acceptable. so are sneakers instead of heeled shoes. but kim seokjin was nothing less of button down, a well made tie and polished black shoes.

it shows that-

“he’s a man, not a boy.”

this time, taehyung’s fingers freeze on the screen before he turns his cheeks to you with an unfazed expression - as though he’d expected this but still got disappointed when he hears it. “so it’s his age? you wanna marry him because he’s nine years older than you?”

there’s something about the way he singles out the reason you decided it was seokjin, that makes you look away in shame. but you still force out a laugh in a last ditch attempt to brush it off but it sounds awkward in every octave. “ha ha ha ha what are you talking about? he’s the most eligible marriage prospect - that’s why.”

“there’s another one.” he points out. still unconvinced, “that suho guy - he’s also a fellow. also an only child-”

you speak over him,“-but his background is so-so. civil servant parents. went to an ordinary school. you think he’ll adapt to the pressure as quick as seokjin?” suho’s smiling picture peeks from underneath the documents you’d been reviewing before the flashback of your bold proposal comes and haunt you. it’s his resume along with every physician working at the hospital for more than eight years, that you’d obtained from your dad’s secretary. “you know whoever becomes my husband and assume the chairman position is gonna get chewed out alive by the board. it has to be him - it has to be seokjin.”

a sigh echoes from somewhere across from you as taehyung sits up, brows furrowed together as he rubs his head as if it’ll make the the problem go away. “yeah, but he left the social scene a decade ago. you think he’ll walk back in just like that?”

“his records have been nothing but remarkable. he sticks around and works overtime. he’s been one of the most consistent physicians that worked on every holidays. doesn’t take off days. basically a workaholic who loves his job way too much - he doesn’t need to enter the social scene. not when i’m his wife.” a grin spreads across your face by the end of it - all this time, you’d been reading the report about him but once you’ve actually put it in words, the chances of him saying yes seems to sound more real, “he’s gonna keep working as the chairman and ignore anything the board says. he’s perfect.”

“yeah, okay let’s say he is perfect and there’s no reason for him to say no except one,” taehyung pauses for a more dramatic effect, lips twitching upwards slyly as if he knows it’s already got you on the edge of your seat, “what if he has a girlfriend he wants to marry?”

and that’s when your world comes crashing down like waves against the rocks but you don’t like the smug look on taehyung’s face, “yeah but with his schedule, it doesn’t seem like he has one.”

“you never know - they could very well be living together. plus, it’s not like he has to report his dating life to the hospital and he seems like a private enough man to keep it on the low even from his colleagues.”

his words are barely registering but the longer the second stretches on with your thoughts running wild, the faster your heart seems to race. but one thing’s for sure. taehyung’s here because you’re supposed to be discussing the partnership.

“if you’re not gonna talk about work, then get out.” your eye visibly twitches - all of a sudden your best friend since you were in diapers’ presence serves more as a nuisance than a blessing.

“you’re mad, aren’t you?” a grin spreads across his lips before he bursts into laughter - he’s the only person that would laugh in the face of death, “man you’re full of ego - i guess you should be. i mean, if all else fails, he might just say yes because of your face, right, sparky?”

he’s using that nickname he used to call you when you were kids. your love - or as taehyung would put it, obsession for shines and sparkles in diamonds peaked at the age of ten thanks to your mom’s hobby of collecting dimes. she’d sold everything off after she got bored of them and needed space for the arts she bought - her new found hobby. but you remained true to your love for diamonds and symbol of riches and bought half of her collection.

over time, he starts using it less and less and only for reasons to get a rise out of you. where did that cute boy who called you sparky because he thought you were as pretty as the diamonds, go?

all he is now is a devil incarnate. with that height and silly grin of his, he easily antagonize you. and you always give in. 

“you’re supposed to be on my side and give me assurance!” you toss a balled up paper, aiming right in his face but instead of hitting the mark, he easily catches it.

“how’s this for assurance? you’re only gonna hurt yourself if you throw a ball like that.” he picks his blazer off the handrest and makes a beeline for the door when he senses the smoke coming out of your ears, “i’m late for my date, see you later!”

x

it’s exactly fifteen hours later that you receive a call from seokjin.

instead of meeting up at the cafeteria, he’d directed you to flower child, one of the most coveted fine dining restaurants in seoul two days after the call. it turns out he’d made a reservation - and you’re no fool to the long waiting line to get a table. he must’ve booked it some time after your first meeting.

he’s made some effort into putting on a black blazer and matching pants. hair styled to perfection. he may have cut his family off but he hasn’t completely abandoned the way he lived up till a decade ago. you allow yourself to check him out once - when he’d stood up at your arrival and pushed the chair for you.

thankfully, you’re not too underdressed. a creme blouse and grey pencil skirt suit any kind of formal setting.

“have you thought about what you want to include in the prenup?” you ask after the server leaves with your order.

seokjin seems more collected this time. or maybe it’s the incense and dimmed lighting that gives off a more suitable atmosphere to talk about marriage.

either way, you don’t expect the man to chuckle - a short, wistful one. as though he truly, honestly believes- “why would you want to marry an old man like me?”

you know what he’s asking: there’s got to be a catch. straightening your back and crossing it over your chest loosely, you decide to come clean - the full truth. “you’re only thirty-four but i won’t lie - you have a price on your head, doctor kim.”

the server comes back with a small cart and a bucket of chilled red wine. you wait until he pours a third of both glasses and goes away. but seokjin doesn’t appear all that eager for your elaboration - it’s almost as though he’s already known. or at least expected that much.

“your mother is willing to pay anyone who marries you a whooping ten million if the lucky bride brings you back to your family.” you watch as he studies the density of the wine, twirling the glass gently with a sort of tilt on his lips like a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “but i won’t make you reconcile with your family. i’ve told you my intentions - i need someone who knows the ins and outs of the hospital since don’t have any clinical background and it’d be easier if we were husband and wife.”

it’s in that moment that seokjin tears his eyes off the wine and captures your gaze. in the absence of the sunlight, those brown eyes appear more black, reflecting the dancing fire on the incense. you feel naked and bare as he wedges his fingers in and tear open the windows to your soul. “don’t you have someone you want to marry, miss___? someone you love?”

taehyung’s silly grin flashes at the back of your mind like a solar flare you can’t erase - all you can do is wait until dies out on its own. you don’t realize your unfocused gaze is directed to seokjin in the split second you wait for your thoughts to gather itself. redirecting your gaze to the wayward reflection in your own glass, you let out a breathy chuckle. “yeah, well.”

it’s pathetic and embarrassing but you can’t even conjure up proper words. instead, you bring the wine to your lips, preferring to taste the bittersweetness of the wine than that of your own reality.

x

all you talk about for the rest of the night is matters pertaining the marriage. what he’ll have to endure and what he won’t have to endure. he doesn’t need to attend any of the social functions even if you’re married. doesn’t also need to concern himself with matters about his family - it becomes tricky when his family catches news of their only son’s marriage and want to be there for the ceremonious day.

“i don’t know what’s going on with you and your family but they won’t be invited if you don’t want them to be.” you fix him with one of your smiles. a tilt in the corner of your lips and a languid flutter of your eyelids before meeting his gaze. it always works - takes away the essence of the conversation and makes them focus on you so if he wants to throw your words back at you, there’s a leeway you could escape to.

until you couldn’t.

“it’s fine. i’ve been running away for the last few years - it’s time i face them head on.” he looks up from the steak he’s cutting - you still haven’t recover from the time he’d look at you in the eye and effortlessly tore your defenses like it was paper but there he does it again, splaying out your scheme like a dish best served hot, “besides, they won’t be invited but you can’t- no, you won’t stop them from showing up, right?”

it’s true. his family isn’t just any normal family. his father is a ceo of one of the most prominent cell phone companies in the world after all. you’d be invincible if you’re in good terms with your in-laws. or at least, if they think you’re on their side and want to help them get their son back.

but seeing as nothing gets past seokjin, you’re only left to either evade the question or full out deny it to keep your pride intact. either way, both options will only serve to confirm his suspicion - he may already know what you’re up to but verbalizing it is a different kind of pride-crushing. your lips curl into a smile - an irony of having been cornered in every direction from the man you thought you could wrap around your fingers.

but because your pride wouldn’t allow you to look like a fool and your ethics wouldn’t allow you to tell a flat out lie (half truths are alright), you decide the first option is much better. “there’s one more thing - i want to get pregnant within the first year of our marriage.”

or else, you’re going to end up like your parents - their bones weren’t as strong as they used to be by the time they got you and their souls were withered from the works they’d put on in their better years of their lives. your mother’s life was risked by the late pregnancy. still, they tried to love you better but there were things you couldn’t do with parents who were hitting 50 before you even reached high school. you couldn’t go camping or bike riding or fishing like your grandfather brought your father to.

it seems to have caught seokjin off guard when he stares at you with wide eyes a tad longer before dropping his head and chuckling to himself, “my, i don’t know if i still have it in me.”

and that’s how you know he’s messing with you - perhaps it’s his own way of reminding you that he’s too old for you and if he’s lucky, it’ll scare you away from the idea of marriage altogether. but the fact that he’s trying to make you give up means that he’s agreeing to the marriage. you let your lips curve into a smile, adrenaline rushing through your veins and into your very core.

you absolutely can’t wait to get married.

x

the marriage will be held within five months - it’s the earliest you can get. it’d be suspicious if you just suddenly got married without any scandal or news of dating the estranged only child of the kim family. you’ve already hired a reporter to follow you during your first three ‘dates’ - they may very well be the only dates you go on together judging from your packed schedule. it’s been almost a week since that dinner and you’ve made plans to appear in public together - your first date.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait for the light on the handle to turn from red to green - a signal that the owner’s allowed you access. “hey, you ready?” is the first thing you say, even though you know he’s not.

“miss ___, i’m sorry i was working and didn’t realize the time.” he seems to be genuinely apologetic - and there’s an x-ray film and some papers strewn over his desk to verify his claim. “i’ll freshen up and -”

his brows lift in surprise when you lower yourself on his lap just as he pushes the chair backwards to stand up. the usually gelled light brown hair falls over his face in a messy middle part and his button down is less crisped than when you saw him the first time. granted your first meeting with him was at noon - it’s not enough time for the demands of his career to dishevel him. it’s evening now.

his jaw slacks just the slightest bit, resulting for his lips to part - you’ve noticed their plump fullness and it’d be a lie if you said you didn’t wonder about how they’d feel on yours. the taupe acrylic on your thumb digs into the soft pink flesh of his lips before it travels to his chin.

“may i?” two words. and that’s all it takes for something lustrous to take over his eyes. you find yourself smirking when he stares quizzically as your hand leaves his face and brings his own between your lips. his fingerpads are callous from years of surgical training but they don’t tremble under the touch of your tongue. his digits are lengthier than you expect them to be. his middle finger hit the back of your throat easily before you can get them all in but he’s not the only one that’s received training.

you switch to his ring finger, tongue gently curling around it before you drag your teeth over the ridges of its joint. as a finishing touch, you make sure to lick the bottom of your lips all the while holding his gaze. then, you allow the smile to grace your lips as though nothing happened but the way you pretend to struggle to get up, causing your ass to rub against his arousal - defeats that false sense of innocence.

either way, his surprised expression turns to an amused one as he chuckles a low chuckle - an admittance of your victory, “my, i just lost, didn’t it?”

“whatever do you mean?” you blink, lashes fluttering with feigned innocence.

x

articles are starting to pop up after your personal reporter uploaded hers. it’s not enough to shake the world but it’s enough to catch the eyes of secretaries which in turn tell their bosses and as a result, your phone’s been blowing up and your own secretary has been taking calls since this morning.

“___, you’re leaving already?” taeyeon cups the mouthpiece of the phone she’s been on for the last five minutes, alarms going off in her eyes at the thought of your absence. you don’t blame her - from the way the conversation seems to be going, she might just drag the whole telephone all the way to your desk and make you answer them.

business proposals must be pouring in. you feel bad for your secretary but to be frank, the instant ringing as soon as she held up the last call - has been bothering you to no end as well.

you grin sheepishly, “i got a meeting with dad.” it’s just a coincidence that your dad called you to his office today - he usually does every once in a while just to ask how you’re doing and lament about having to handle your mother’s random burst of hobbies she’s getting into ever since you moved out.

looks like nobody’s noticed the ‘rumor’ yet from the way the workers in the administration department bows and greets you on your way to the office. granted, these people are too devoted to their work to pay attention to the latest business scandals but you expected at least one person to be blowing up the group chat with pictures of you and seokjin’s first date.

there’s a familiar figure leaning against your dad’s desk but no trace of the elder man - he must have went to the washroom or something. you thought it odd when taehyung’s eyes fall on you without the usual grin he would usually offer whenever he sees you - like reflex. at first, you assume his own date with yuju probably didn’t go very well.

“hey, loser. this is the first time you’re here earlier than me.” you fix the man your own grin, happy to be able to see not one but two of your favorite persons. taehyung’s been coming over to play at your house since forever. it was normal for your dad to invite him to his office and take you two to lunch now that you two have grown up.

...until you notice your dad on the couch and another person sitting adjacent to him. it’s easy to miss people when they’re sitting down and easier to have your eyes focus on taehyung’s tall frame.

the tension almost crushes your lungs as soon as you walk through the door. it becomes apparent all too soon that taehyung tried to warn you with his eyes to not be your usual idiot self. now, you’re paying the price for it as all eyes fall on you.

the third person in the room turns his cheek towards you - seokjin. he offers a too polite smile as you come to a stop next to the couch he’s one.

“daddy?” all of a sudden, you’re a child in a room full of adults and calling your out to your dad, as if it would somehow make him explain this situation you just walked in.

the elder man releases a long drawn sigh before speaking, “i’d like a word with my daughter and doctor kim, if you don’t mind, taehyung.”

“sure, uncle.” the aforementioned man offers one of his gallant smiles, pushing himself off the desk without taking out his hands from his pockets.

you grab onto taehyung’s arm as he’s about to pass you - pleading with your eyes for him not to leave you, a mere ant, with the elephants in the room. that’s when his serious facade falls through and he’s grinning at you like a brother would to his sister when he knows she’s going to get in trouble with their parents. your temple throbs with a burst of rage but before you can say anything, he’s already out of the door.

the sweetness of the tea mrs. nam served is tasteless compared to the tangible tension in the air. it’s become apparent that while the more tech savvy staff remain clueless of your updated dating status, your father, is not.

be it as it may, guess you should give credit where it’s due - seokjin’s expression is free of any tautness. it’s perfectly neutral - it’s frightening. you know for a fact you’re not saved from a hard line on your glossed lips and a crease between your brows.

“i heard from my wife that you two are dating.” the elderly man finally breaks the silence.

he’s addressing your mom like that so to make it known that he’s talking to seokjin too - and you’re not the only one in hot water. but seeing as it’s your idea and your proposal, it’s also your responsibility to respond-

“that’s correct, sir.”

-but seokjin beats you to it. it’s not just his expression but his tone is completely at ease. almost as though he’s faced tense situations like this one too many times.

you breathe out before speaking, “i was going to introduce doctor kim to you and mom once we bought our engagement rings.”

your dad finally looks up, eyes wide and mouth slacked for the briefest second before his eyes flutter close. now’s about time for him to be rubbing his temples from the headache but instead, he lets out a sigh. for a split second, you see your dad for the age he is - not the age you remember him as in your earliest memories. wrinkles and smile lines and graying hair.

the seconds stretch on as do the silence. you can hear the distant ringing of the telephone all the way from mrs. nam’s desk from outside, almost clearly.

once your word settles in, then comes the million dollar question, “do you two love each other?”

it’s a no brainer. anyone with eyes can see and answer that for you - or perhaps taehyung already told your dad since he must have gone through a similar interrogation session. and yet, it’s only natural to want confirmation from your own daughter instead of her best friend even though he knows everything about her.

this can only go two ways: yes or no.

but you’ve never been fond of flat out lying, especially to the man who taught you such principles and you’ve talked about marrying for convenience with them ever since you realized that ambitions tend to reward but cheap sentiments like love does not.

yet your chest feels heavy having to go against your parents’ wishes and hopes for you - they want what any parent want for their child. happiness. “no, we don’t.”

“but no one enters into a marriage with divorce in mind. i don’t plan on just being a husband to your daughter just on paper. i’ll care for miss ___ and treat her the way like a queen. that much, i promise, sir.” seokjin holds your dad’s gaze - it’s haunting and charming, you would know. you’d been on the receiving end once too many times already. and you know that’s how he gets your dad.

the older man nods, shoulder line relaxing almost as though he’s been lifted off a dead weight. he’s not the only one - you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you feel your own muscles loosening and you’re breathing out in relief.

until his head snaps up to point out one thing, “you’re getting married yet you’re not on first name basis?”

x

“sorry to rope you into family drama, i’ll be more prepared next time so you won’t have to leave your work.” is the first thing you say once you’re in the elevator. your dad has made sure to grill you to half-death with his questions. he’s gonna give the immigration a run for their money. the first name basis matter is just the beginning of a series of dread -

‘what’s my daughter’s favorite color?’

‘dad, do you even know my-”

‘shh. do you know my daughter still wets the bed at the age ten?’

‘dad!’

seokjin had taken your dad on in stride. he chuckled when your dad said something ridiculous, borderline false and he listened on when your dad went on about the sob story of a ‘poor father with an undefeatable daughter’. but the way he did it was so effortless - almost as if he was a boyfriend visiting your parents and getting told all the embarrassing stories of your childhood and would tease you about it but at the end of the day, tells you he thinks the kid-you was cute - bed wetter or not.

there’s something that restricts your airway at the thought of sharing a feeling so strong with someone. in no time, you push the intimate image away. you and seokjin aren’t like that - this is marriage is strictly convenience-based.

“i asked a friend of mine to cover for me.” so he knew it’d be long but he didn’t actually said it was okay either. marriage is a tricky subject especially for someone as work-crazed as seokjin. you’re surprised he hasn’t cursed you out for making him miss work. “is it red?”

“what?” you blink, steps halting as you stare up at him with what starts to be mindless curiosity but ends up with a stretched on pause as you study the man’s visage. the plumpness of his lips is a given- it’s the first thing you noticed about him.

“your favorite color.” the corners of his lips lifts upwards before he includes his assertion, “you’re always wearing something red - your lipstick was red when we went for dinner. you have a red blouse on now.”

 even you didn’t know you have so much red. but it’s true - your functions and meetings wardrobe consists of red and black predominantly besides the more neutral pastel colors. you have a higher success rate of getting sponsors when you wear the tight fitted red dress.

but it’s not a preferred shade per se.

“no,” you chuckle, “my favorite color is yellow, like the banana.”

seokjin’s brows rises at that. he probably didn’t expect that - nobody expects the fierce and confident woman to like such a bright, clarifying color. “though i understand why you think it’s red.”

his lips curl into a smile - the kind of smile that mimics your own, not the one that he wears to charm your father. though that one was also genuine, this one makes him feel younger. like someone you can crack silly jokes with instead of the ever uptight working man.

before he manages to say anything, your name reverberates across the lobby. taehyung’s shrugged off that ugly grey checkered blazer of his and left it at the sofa as he mini run towards you. the grin on his face gradually falls off when he notices the lack of smile on your face.

“you left me for dead!”

he blocks your fist with a hand around your wrist before sighing as if you’re not just directing every ounce of energy in that punch of yours - but then again, none of your smacks really get to him.

“i didn’t know uncle was gonna ask me about that - i thought it was gonna be the usual lunch. i mean, come on, i waited for you down here even though i have work to do so i can make sure all your limbs are intact!” he looks like he almost meant it. almost.

it’s in that moment that seokjin’s remark reminds you that he’s still there, “you two must be close.”

“huh?” taehyung narrows his eye at you as though you’re no more than gum under his shoes while you whip your hand out of his grasp and scoff.

“nah, i’m her only friend.”

“it’s because he doesn’t have any other friend.”

you both say at the same time.

at least seokjin’s still able to laugh with all the intention-to-kill in the air. before you can elaborate on how taehyung kept following you around like a lost puppy when you were younger, seokjin’s hand finds its way around your shoulder, you thought it odd that he needs to pat on the shoulder farthest from him but it turns out he’s pulling you towards him but by the time you realize it, you’re already craning your neck to look at him. but you barely notice the awkward position of his lips on the spot just above your left eyebrow - his lips really are soft. and warm.

and gone.

before you know it, he’s pulling away, saying something about seeing you later - you couldn’t hear it from the blood rushing in your ears and the heat rising on your face. it’s only after you see his white coat disappear around the corner do you finally take notice of the slyly grinning fox in front of you.

“what did i tell you? simple-minded beings.”

x

you still don’t know why seokjin kissed you on the forehead.

sure, he told your dad he’s not planning to just be a husband on paper - okay. but he’s nowhere near a husband to you yet and you haven’t even given him an engagement ring. it doesn’t help that your heart keeps racing every time time the image of his sharp jaw and pursed lips before he kissed you, plays at the back of your mind.

he smelled good too - like aftershave and lemon and a hint of disinfectants.

before you know it, you find yourself rapping on his door eight minutes past 7 in the evening. after a whole solid minute of the red light on the door handle remaining the same color, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding. it’s supposed to be past his shift but judging from the lack of response from the other side of the room, you know straight away that he’s still at the wards. it may have been an impromptus decision but now that you’ve walked the distance from your office to the other end of the building, you might as well go the extra mile and actually look for him. 

most of the nurses and doctors that pass you recognize you, bowing briefly before hurrying to where they were heading before they saw you. you rarely visit the cardiology department - or any other department for that matter because it’s always a hassle for the staff to prepare to greet you. in that aspect, you agree with seokjin - that they could be doing something better than pushing their schedules on their colleague to accompany a sightseeing vip.

“miss ___?” a young man around your age calls, his brows furrow at the idea that his eyes could be fooling him but when you turn to him, his eyes light up in pleasant surprise, “it really is you. why - i didn’t know you were visiting today.” 

“doctor kim,” you don’t forget a face easily - right before you is kim suho. the smile that stretches when you recognize him is telling enough. his past achievements are definitely to brag about and he must have attended the annual dinner if he recognizes you, “good evening. this isn’t an official visit - actually, i’m looking for someone. do you happen to know where doctor kim seokjin is?”

“seokjin?” he repeats the name with a sort of familiarity, coupled with confusion. of course, he’s probably wondering what the work-crazed doctor did to have the ceo come all the way to the wards.

“miss ___?” it’s feels almost deja vu - having your names called out by two different people within the span of five minutes. both sounding equally confused but for different reasons.

“good evening,” you fix seokjin one of your alluring smiles, heart skipping a beat - it’s probably the stethoscope hanging over his shoulder. it compliments the collared button down and white coat, look you usually see him in, “i went to you office but you weren’t there so i came here.”

“let’s talk in my office.” he clears his throat, eyes drifting to look to somewhere on his left before he stops himself. if it’s the whispering nurses at the counter he’s worried about - he shouldn’t be. because you’re about to put a ring on it.

x

“sorry, i was doing my last rounds but the patient was a chatty one - i lost track of time.” he says, walking into the office and setting the stethoscope down on his desk before he takes a seat behind it.

you notice the way his eyes travel from your perfectly pinned up hair down to your diamonds adorned neck down to the halter strap of your elegant maroon dress that wraps around your body flawlessly. but he doesn’t say a word - and you’re forced to school your expression to not show your surprise and hurt when he doesn’t even let his gaze linger for any longer than necessary as he meets your eyes again.

you take out the suede velvet box from your purse and place it right in front of him. “it just came in, why don’t you try putting it on?”

his eyes twinkle with a surprise not because of the foretelling shape and characteristics of the box, nor the affirmation of the silver band inside it but because it sits snugly around his ring finger when he slips it on.

“how did you get my size right?” the impressed tone laced in his voice makes your chest swell with pride and lips curl into a smirk.

it only takes him a few seconds to interpret your smirk - that time in his office. the ghost of his digit on your tongue still lingers. it wasn’t just for show and you weren’t cruel enough to put a man through that misery if you didn’t have your own reasons.

he shakes his head, ring bluntly glinting as suppresses his chuckle with his hand.

your heart is beating too loudly in your chest - there’s something in the way he’s bearing your claim but you still manage to sound leveled and collected. “since we’re officially engaged, do you mind if i call you seokjin?”

“i’d like that very much, ___.” he’s finally dropped the suffix. ms. this, ms. that. you’ve gotten used to it but it serves to enforce the invisible line between you and him when he addresses you so formally.

your phone buzzes in your purse - it must be taehyung. you didn’t expect to spend longer than ten minutes but he must be waiting at the lobby if he’s texting you now. standing up, you bid him a parting “have a nice evening, seokjin.”

he doesn’t seem like he has anything on his mind but just as your hand covers the handle of the door, he speaks up, “once we’re married, could you refrain from going to these functions?”

it takes you off guard. like a spear that pierces you just as you lay down your armor but you’re not one to let something like this get to you, “i’m afraid that’s not possible.” and that’s it. it’s final.

but you should have known when you decide to use that practiced icy tone, that seokjin wouldn’t just back off the way almost everyone would. the only people who would still have the gal to say something or dismiss it are your parents and taehyung.

“i know you expect me to be an obedient husband and become chairman and do my job. it shouldn’t matter if you attend these functions since you’re not forcing me to go with you.” and there’s those eyes again. tearing into the soul of your window and stripping you bare the way only kim seokjin could. “but marriage is about compromise - giving up one thing for the other. i’m gonna inherit my dad’s fortunes and you’re gonna get that 10 million my mom promised. shouldn’t that be enough to get the projects for the hospital rolling?"

when he says it like that, it seems so easy and simple. “no wonder you’re a doctor. you don’t know a thing about maintaining a sustainable business.” you let your lips curl briefly, “but i’ll think about what you said.”

then, you’re out of his office. heels clicking against the floor as you make your way to the lobby and into taehyung’s familiar sleek black burgatti.

x

“so he asked you to stop coming to these functions.” the car rolls to a stop right in front of the hall where the birthday party of seollyu’s president is held.

“in essence, yeah.” you say after he comes around the car and your hand automatically tucks itself in the crook of his arm.

“then why are you mad?” the car purrs behind you before the valet takes it somewhere to park it.

some of the reporters at the entrance calls your and taehyung’s names in an attempt to make you look at the camera. there’s too many and the lights are blinding - you just want to get into the hall quickly. at least they won’t be able to follow you past the doors.

“i just - i don’t like that he’s asking me to change, you know? just because i’m married, i won’t get to do the things i usually do before? that’s just bullshit.” you huff in frustration - not bothering to hide your stiff eyebrows and slightly pursed lips all the while you have your pictures taken. at best, they’re going to slander you with jealousy over taehyung’s new budding romance.

“i mean, he did cut his family off and stopped going to these things.” the man shrugs, “maybe he has a good reason - did you even ask him why?”

and that’s how you know you’ve lost the fight. taehyung’s too sensible - naturally, he wouldn’t have his own startup at such a young age, if he isn’t the way he is now. but you don’t want an analyst - you want a friend who would listen to you and let you vent your frustrations before finding the root of the problem and suggesting the solution.

taehyung knows this and he knows plenty of many things, having been your childhood and best friend all in one package. but because he knows you too well, he also knows you’ll end up doing something you would regret if he were too late to point out your mistake. sometimes you want to prove him wrong - that you can call the right shots when it comes to people without having him paint a picture for you to foresee the outcome but so far, there’s limited exhibits of your success. your failed past relationships being the prime examples.

“i hate it when you’re right.” you grumble, letting your hand fall to your side - usually you wouldn’t mind having to cling onto taehyung like a child. you’re all the other has in these functions - everyone has their own reason for attending and just like absolutely everyone, you approach people because of what they can give you. that’s why you see groups of people your age flocking together - they grew up trained to sniff those with ill intentions and those with a mutual interest.

and usually, they’ve known each other at a very young age - the way you knew taehyung for as long as you can remember.

you have other friends too - or rather, they’re people you single out to be of no threat to your business and could even become partners someday. like sowon - her bright amber dress making it seem as though a ball of fire is flitting across the hall. you’re about to wave at her before you notice a more furious fire burns in her eyes.

“you bitch!”

all of a sudden, your neck is craned in an awkward angle. the blaze on your cheek settles a little later than the realization that sowon just smacked you right across the face yet when you turn back to her, hands clenching and unclenching in suppression of rising anger - she’s the one with tears in her eyes. “i trusted you.”

oh boy.

the host hasn’t even made his speech and the crowd’s already excited. the widespread whispers don’t go past you - some of the people in your periphery doesn’t even bother hiding leaning into the person next to them while stealing glances your way. but you doubt the woman in front of you would notice anyone here but you.

“ladies, there’s plenty of me to go around.” taehyung speaks from next to you, his smooth baritone echoing off and reaching anyone within five feet. you know he’s doing this to cover for any other possible misunderstanding - after all, this isn’t the first time you’re trapped in a scandal between taehyung and one of his girlfriends.

sowon loathes taehyung though.

but it doesn’t matter as long as everyone thinks it’s just another day of you getting in between the budding romance of taehyung and his female acquaintance. you can already see the expressions of the guests falling - probably disappointed at the not-so-news news. but there are also those who snicker underneath their breath - probably one of taehyung’s past acquaintances. it’s no secret taehyung would choose you over them in a heartbeat - and it’s been established when taehyung appears at a function with another woman once and appear to the next five with you until a new poor soul takes that woman’s place.

what can you say? your best friend’s a charmer. but the downside is, you don’t have that many female friends at functions. and one of the few you do have, you’ve managed to piss off.

sowon’s sniffle tears your attention away from the crowd. flushed cheeks and puffed eyes. you’re not close but you’re acquainted enough to know she’s a woman of pride and confidence. she wouldn’t lose her cool over a man - well, at least not a licentious man like taehyung. and that’s the only reason keeping you from bitch slapping the pride off her. the sting on your cheek is nothing compared to the injury your pride sustains - all because what’s left of your conscience wouldn’t allow you to return the slap.

deep down, you know you deserved it and more. your insides churn painfully. all of a sudden the dress around your body is two sizes too small. it’s suffocating - the whole room is suffocating.

“after everything i told you - you had to go for him?!” her scream could almost burst your eardrums if it isn’t for the blood rushing in your ears.

it’s easy to think she’s referring to taehyung. somewhere from across the room, the crowd starts clearing out a path - looks like the host has caught wind of the commotion sowon has caused.

you want to curse her too. hurt her with words as much as she hurt you with her physical assault. but instead you find yourself dropping your gaze.

“i’m sorry, sowon.” is all you say before mr. jung and his army of secretaries approach you and bring you two to different rooms. by the time dinner starts, sowon isn’t around - it’s understandable, her pride wouldn’t allow her to let these people poke fun at her.

but you don’t survive this world you’re born in by running away - you survive it by developing skin as untouchable as scales. so you stay until desert, smiling with a sore cheek and conversing with those who you know would be neutral about the incident, like nothing happened.

taehyung sticks closer to you. he doesn’t ask if you’re okay - you’re not. but when you tug on his sleeve and timidly murmur you wish to go home, he does so without hesitation. it’s times like these you’d choose him over the world.

x

the tabloids love gossip. a sensational, popcorn-worthy scoop. there are two divided groups thanks to that. the first one is devoted to the belief that it’s a love triangle between you, taehyung and sowon. the other one, choosing to dig deeper than what’s on the surface, believes it goes way back. ten years back.

“sorry, i should have told you sowon was my ex-fiance - it didn’t occur to me until i saw the articles that you two might meet at a function.” seokjin finally says, the strawberry ice cream beginning to melt in its paper bowl when he asked you to ‘at least, let me cure your injury,’ - you didn’t, in a - make that ten - million years picture it to be in a form of an ice cream bowl he bought from the mini convenience store next to the cafeteria. it was to hold it on your cheek but you couldn’t just let good food go to waste.

it hurts to even smile but you can’t help it at the thought of the rumored half-mad doctor using his break for something besides working some more. coupled with a shake of your head and the plastic spoon trapped in between your lips, you look just as insane. 

your heart still clenches at the recollection of the other night, “i knew you two were engaged.”

his shoulder line straightens just the slightest bit as he lifts one eyebrow, not completely surprised but neither is he unfazed. so you continue, “it was by pure dumb luck that you turn out to be the best marriage prospect for me but i thought she was over it since it’s been years.”

there it is again, the churning in your stomach. like something’s eating you from the inside. if you focus enough, you can hear the voice inside your head scoffing - even if they’d just broken up yesterday, you still would have proposed to seokjin, maybe even the day after said break up. 

this time, you don’t look away when his eyes meet yours. you let him strip your armor down to your very core. show him just what kind of person you are - the person who wouldn’t let anything get in the way of her ambitions. wouldn’t dwell cheap sentiments like friendship. even if that made you - as sowon would put it - a bitch.

then, he lets out a heavy sigh - the kind of sigh a parent would do when their kid got in trouble and admitted their fault. so now he can’t lecture you on morals and ethics because you have your own principles.

if anything, it reminds you of the glaring difference in your age - the things he’s already experienced that you’re about to someday. the betrayals. the broken friendships. the choices between what you want and what you need. he’s probably seen this all before.

“is an old man like me really worth all that trouble?” the tiniest of smile graces his strong feature. eyebrows wavering with something you can’t pinpoint.

“well, there’s a doctor - kim suho.” this time, you don’t bother pointing out his not-even-that-old age. the way his eye twitches barely noticeably tells you he doesn’t expect your answer. a moment later, it becomes too apparent, from his troubled expression - brows stiffed and jaws tight, that he doesn’t like the idea of you asking for another man’s hand in marriage. you have to tell yourself to refrain from smiling, not because your cheek might hurt again but because it’s probably not a good time to tease him.

deciding to release him from his own misery, you quickly elaborate, “but he has an average background - no matter how much experience he has, you don’t just get on your knees and start slithering with the snakes. you have to be born into the family. so yes,” you place your ice cream on the coffee table, hand pushing back a strand of hair to appear more delicate and win his favor while you let a furtive smile adorn your face - and there’s a smile he’s suppressing too because he knows what you’re trying to do, “this old man is definitely worth it.”

his shoulder line seems to ease up as he tries to hide a relieved sigh by clearing his throat. but it’s short lived when the crease between his brows returns and a newfound tension settles in space on the couch separating the two of you, “yes, but suho was never the one i should be on a look out for, was he?”

you blink but he’s already shaking his head. a smile on his face, “never mind.”

x

things seem to settle down - everyone at the hospital knows about you and seokjin now. and you’ve managed to convince him to finally use his off days to spend it on preparing for the wedding. cake tasting. dress and suit fitting. deciding on what color the napkins should be - a month ago, you approached seokjin with the mindset to make him agree to marry you. after all, prince charming was the one who had it all - it didn’t make sense to have cinderella do all the wedding planning.

he was mad at you for some reason - it lasted for quite awhile until you directly asked why he’d been given you the cold shoulders. “you keep playing a two man game by yourself.” he sighed when he said those words - because he saw in your eyes, that you thought there was nothing wrong to be finishing what you started by yourself, “we’re getting married - we’re gonna become a team yet you keep making decisions by yourself.”

ever since then, you started asking if he wanted to join you to the cake and dessert tasting, napkin color picking. you didn’t realize how nice it was to do things with another person than decide it on your own.

and somewhere along the way, you started teasing him more.

“if the saying ‘men age like fine wine’ is a person,” a grin slips over your face as you shamelessly give seokjin is a once over, “then you’d be the embodiment of that.”

he doesn’t seem to mind - rather, he seems like he’s enjoying the attention as he chuckles and shakes his head. probably thinking there’s no saving you and your compliments now.

“come here.” it’s the way he says it - with a smile on his lips and eyes that says you’re all he sees and hand extended to capture yours, that makes you jump from your seat. the front of the dress bunched up in your hands as to not trip over it and right into his arms. just like moth drawn to flames.

he pulls you up over the platform that he’s been standing on and lets you stand in front of him, hand on your shoulder as you stare in front of the 3 part mirror in the boutique. the dress you have on is a light gold dress with a sweetheart neckline that wraps around your curves flawlessly down to your knees and flow out like a mermaid’s tail. seokjin has on a traditional cobalt blue single breasted suit with three buttons fitting around his waist perfectly. his hair is gelled back the way you specifically requested.

he gave you a quizzical look as though wanting you to elaborate on your reason for that request but you’d only left him with a kiss on the cheek and a ‘see you on monday.’

if there’s one thing you learned about seokjin, it’s that he’s devastatingly unaware of his strong features that makes every woman’s legs turn to jelly and every man’s heart skip a beat. and he chooses to hide it under that usual middle parted style.

seokjin’s reflection bends down but his eyes remains on you as he whispers against the shell of your ears, “you look exquisite.”

you have half the mind to push him off and run away in case he’d ear the erratic beating in your chest but he probably already knows from the way you shyly look away. the you from a year ago would laugh at what you’ve become - the kind of girl that gets flustered and can’t form a proper sentence in the presence of a male. but before you can respond, a boisterous voice from the sofa you were sitting at, announces, “alright, next!”

your teeth clench together as you whirl around to face taehyung’s silly grin. that cockblocker - he knew you were having a moment and went out of his way to ruin it. “what are you even here for? don’t you have something better to do?”

for once, taehyung isn’t on his phone. you wouldn’t mind it so much if he’d just ignore you half of the time whenever you hang out. “your mom tasked me to find you a perfect dress since she can’t be here.” there’s a glint in his eyes - something ratchet and devious but his lips curve like that of an angel.

you don’t miss seokjin’s tightened jaw and stiff shoulder line as he helps you down the platform. ever since taehyung showed up ten minutes into fitting, seokjin’s expression has been switching from that suave smile to looking like he has a splinter stuck in his thumb - a human sized splinter that goes by the name of kim taehyung.

you never thought you’d live to see the day when kim seokjin would harbor any sort of animosity towards someone - he’s probably a strict supervisor, but resentful? can’t be.

you chalk it up with the plain fact that anyone who’s not head over heels for taehyung would want to skin him alive on the early stages of getting to know him.

“hm? seokjin’s not here yet?” you ask once you’re back from the fitting room, having slipped into an ivory trumpet shaped dress. it’s a much simpler design compared to the one you had on which makes it a perfect counter part for the after party. “that’s a first, the lady finishing first than the guy.”

“oh, it’s not that unusual.” taehyung snickers. guess that just shows how confident he is with his skills.

“i’ve never been this tired and i’ve only tried on three dresses.” instead of entertaining his remark, you choose plop down next to him.

“sparky, does he love you?” it’s that nickname that gets you.

there are only two circumstances where he would call you that: one, when he wants to annoy you and two, when he’s feeling nostalgic. guess it’s finally hitting him that you’re no longer kids chasing each other around in one of his mansions. you’re both grown up and one is trying out wedding gowns.

“uh, me and seokjin are about to get married, taetae.” you throw in a nickname of your own just to lighten up the mood.

but all it does is lift the corners of his lips into a wistful smile. and that’s how you know you can’t be telling your half-truths. and evading his question isn’t working all that well either. “it feels like we can talk about things more openly now - but no, i don’t think he does. he’s marrying me to become the next chairman and i’m after his money and maybe get a kid out of him too.” a knot forms in your stomach - something about what you said doesn’t sit well with you but this is what you wanted. this is what you prepared for the moment you decided to ask seokjin for his hand in marriage. you shouldn’t hope for more.

the laugh taehyung lets out is reactionary. humorless. “can’t you wait for me? i know i’m in no position to ask - but can’t you?”

two years and three months ago, when you were a little youthful, had a little more stars in your eyes - maybe you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. with every birthday you celebrate, fear rears its ugly head and reminds you that time isn’t an illusion and you know better than to bet on something - someone you're not sure you can win.

your heart aches a similar way it did two years ago - but you know now it’s not because it’s breaking to pieces. instead it’s hurting for the pieces of that young boy you could never hope to complete using yours. it took awhile but you know how to get back on your feet - but it’s not all that simple for taehyung. only he can fix his broken pieces.

“i stopped, taehyung,” you finally say, gaze burning holes inside the lace material of the dress, “the moment you told me you can’t - i stopped loving you. i’m glad i did because it wasn’t love. i was just scared to lose you like you’re afraid to lose me now,” you tug on his hand to get him to look at you and he does - all of a sudden, you’re both eight, inside your own bedroom with your dolls and his remote control cars strewn across the floor, “but you’ll always be my taetae and i’ll always be your sparky - i’m always gonna be here for you.”

you thought he’d changed. it’s nice to know he still uses a fruit scented shower gel when he brings you into a hug. the piercing sweet scent isn’t as strong as you remember it. the hug lasts a bit longer and his body is trembling slightly but you know it’s going to be okay - even if he packs up and leave for a foreign city like two years ago when you told him you loved him and you had to hunt him down through your wits and will (that damned private investigator accumulated a fortune to last him for probably ten years). at the end of the day, you’ll come back to each other. because the bond you’ve formed is thicker than the blood coursing through your veins.

“if he makes you cry, you come to me, okay?” you can’t even be mad when he ruffles your hair before picking up his blazer and shrugging it on. by the end of it, you’re both smiling - though his remains wistful, yours is sanguine.

it’s only after taehyung’s figure disappears through the door, do you notice the feeling of a pair of eyes burning holes inside your head.

“seokjin.”

the man is leaning against the door where his changing room is. you don’t need to ask why his brows are strained and the lips that would usually grace you with a smile, is pressed into a tight line.

x

“i never knew-” seokjin stops himself, lips pressed together as though he doesn’t want to say it, but he does with a shake of his head, “-no, i did know there was something between you and taehyung.”

you end up in seokjin’s apartment. the whole ride has been stiff silent. it’s the first you’ve seen him so disheveled. his tie hangs loose on his neck as though he’d yanked it without a care in the world and forgot about it. the first two buttons of his button down are undone. what once was his perfectly sleeked back hair disheveled from having been mussed up.

the hot chocolate seokjin made you is losing heat the longer you hold onto to it for the sake of having something to do with your hands. “i proposed to him two years ago and stopped loving him as soon as he turned me down - taehyung, he... he’s got a lot going on. that’s all i can say. i hope you don’t misunderstand what you saw.”

his eyes turn as round as saucers for the briefest moment before they flutter to their original almond shapes. shoulder line shaking from chuckling - but there’s nothing funny about any of this so you keep your eyes on him. if he needed confirmation of the truth you’re speaking, he need only search it in the windows of your soul.

“that’s very like you, ___.” he finally says.

you’re not sure what he meant but you’re not about to ponder on it either, “is there anything else you’d like to know about me, seokjin? there’s no reason for me to lie to you - we’re about to get stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. we should at least be able to talk about our past openly.”

when he doesn’t seem to have any other inquiry, you decide to let go of your pride - the reason you never asked was because you were too proud to be wrong. growing up, there were only a few people that you let poke fun at you and fewer you’d let prove you wrong. it dawned on you some time after you’re all showered and ready to go to bed one night - that you’re about to let seokjin waltz into your life and he’ll bear witness to your most intimate side. he’s about to be said one of the fewer people.

“then, my turn - why did you want me to stop attending social functions? i’ve been doing it my whole life - i’m good at it. and i’m not planning to stop just because i got married unless you have a proper reason for asking me to.”

the way his gaze drops tells you it wasn’t just a baseless request. you reach out across the counter, slipping your hands into his. that seems to have brought him back.

“my parents chose to attend a function instead of staying by my grandfather’s side even when the doctor told them he wouldn’t make it til morning - they weren’t even sorry. couldn’t even stay throughout the whole funeral.” he shakes his head almost as though being hung up over it was ridiculous yet couldn’t move past it either, “it’s ugly what too much wealth does - i just- i’m sorry i asked such a thing from you. it’s my own problem that i have to deal with, you don’t have to stop.”

it’s not hard to put yourself in his shoes. you understand where he’s coming from - you want to tell him that but somehow words are cheap. especially right in this moment.

so without thinking, you slip off the stool and walk around the counter until you reach him. the last thing you see before you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your level, is his wondrous gaze.

the man doesn’t flinch away from your touch nor does he welcome it in any way. but the longer the seconds stretch on, the more you realize how idiotic and awkward it is to hug someone you barely know - it worked for taehyung but that’s only because he knew you preferred action rather than words.

“i’m not gonna stop completely but i won’t go as often - it’s getting boring anyway.” you nonchalantly say - or at least try to sound like you’ve lost interest in the function on your own. you haven’t been to any since that incident with sowon, waiting out for the rumors to die down is a better choice.

the body in your arms is unresponsive as ever - you would think you’re hugging a dead body if not for the heat of his breath fanning your delicate skin. maybe he’s just too nice to push a lady away. just as you’re about retract your arms, a warm hand rests on your hip. his touch is soft and gentle - as if he’s handling a porcelain doll while you’d just dragged him down to you without even considering how uncomfortable the angle would be given his tall broad frame. 

his body vibrates when he lets out a short breath like a brief chuckle, “you’re very generous with your hugs.”

your brain short circuits when the man raises his head from your shoulder and rests his forehead on yours - it reminds you of how woman you are. even when he’s sitting he still hovers over you. his free hand cups your jaw, thumb lightly pressing on your lower lip. so this is what it felt like when your roles were switched - is he going to give you a false sense that he’ll kiss you the way you would him?

“may i?” he’s smiling when he repeats your own words - eyes trapping the ray of sunlight that pours over the wall-window like an illuminate waterfall. for the first time since you know him, you’re scared. not of what he will do but of what you want him to - but he won’t do.

your train of thoughts dissipates along with your worry the moment his lips touch yours. gentle. yet the hand pulling you into him is possessive. something in your stomach churns with butterflies.

you want to say you don’t know how you end up with your stomach pressed against his crotch or how his semi-hard arousal started rubbing into your abdomen. it’s supposed to be awkward but it isn’t and you know he’s refraining from addressing his aroused state to avoid making it uncomfortable for you - even though every time you shift and lean into him, you see his the gentle bob of his adam’s apple. it makes you want him even more. he leans into your touch as soon as you reach for him like moth drawn to flames.

“right.” he declares as if he’s been reminded of something when he comes in contact with one of the ridge of the rock on your middle finger. it’s your own engagement ring you ordered with seokjin’s. when the man spoke about getting you one, you’d held up your left hand and told him you already had one made. in fact, you never took it off since the day you put it on - which was the same day it came it.

understandably, you’re always wearing more than a ring on your hand - it’s easy to mix up between the ring from your personal collection or a ring of promise. especially when you didn’t tell him you got one made for yourself.

the hand on your cheek is warm as it brushes against your cheekbones, your rolls off his tongue like sweet honey, “what did i ever do to make you think i don’t love you?”

you blink once. you heard his words but your mind isn’t registering anything. but it seems your heart has seem to figure it out from the way it’s accelerating, you’re afraid seokjin might hear it. “wh-what?”

all of a sudden, you have this urge to pull the invisible blinds of his wall-window and hide from the peering rays of the sun. seokjin’s airy gaze. your fallen dress strap. the gentle protrusion in his pants. your own mussed up hair - you want to keep this moment all to yourself.

he pecks your forehead one last time. this lips curling into a smile - he knows you heard him. loud and clear and you have a feeling you’ll be hearing it at the most unpredictable moment from now on. so there’s no rush.

“where should we go for dinner?” 

x

seokjin knows they call him the doctor version of a mad scientist. he knows a plenty of many things. like how he’s more strict with the junior physicians under his care. but that’s only because if he treats them below their potential, they’ll end up being that.

but the part where suho jokingly told him that he was crazy for working on holidays - maybe he was.

he’d moved out as soon as he turned 18 and eventually cut off his parents. before, even if it was just for show, he still got to see them during those functions they held.

but by the time he graduated college and started interning as a doctor - he was already erasing part of his existence. and his parents didn’t seem to notice. it made it cutting them off effortless.

but then, loneliness - pure, unadulterated loneliness started to sink its claws into him. so he turned to work even more. built his life around it.

by the time he became a fellow, he had absolutely zero social life. the only human interaction he had was with his patients - but they come and go. sure they’re grateful for him - and since the private hospital he’s working at is frequented mostly by the richest, he’d received gifts like cars or gold bars from one of his elderly patients who were convinced they were going to die - until they woke up from a successful surgery done by seokjin himself. but they eventually forget him.

and of course, he returned those gifts. he’d be no different than his parents - than the people he wished not to see anymore after he left that world. but the one thing he thought he wanted - the one thing he thought would make him happy, started to burn him out. every birthday was just a reminder that he’s half the age his soul is. 

he’s worn and tired and losing sight of that man he told himself to be by a certain age.

that is, until you came along. at first, it was just courtesy that he listened to what you had to say - apparently you were the ceo. and quite literally, his boss. at first, he thought you were messing with him when you asked for his hand in marriage - no one just waltzes in and propose to someone they don’t know.

even those convenient marriages don’t go this way. but he’d accepted it anyway.

it has more to do with those eyes of yours than the chairman position. those eyes - they remind him so much of himself. the current him. except where his soul wanes, yours thirsts to thrive. like a dying cactus refusing to dry out.

you had thorns but picking them out wasn’t a problem - you’d been disconcerted at first but you’d quickly learn to use it to your advantage. telling him only the truth or nothing. since evasion and half-truths don’t work on him the way they would work on the people you probably surrounded yourself with. and he knew exactly what type of people they were.

eventually, you started telling him the blunt, honest truth. it threw him off a few times - like when you’d straight out told him that you knew who sowon was and still went for him.  and that time when you admitted that he was the second man to receive your proposal - the first being that brat, taehyung. and then, you’d straight out asked him about why he didn’t want you attending functions anymore instead of ignoring his request like his parents would. or flip out of shame for having your lie found out. you were forbearing but firm. sometimes, it felt like you were much older than him. 

but then you had a childish side to you too - it was food for his soul. every time he was with you, he felt like himself again. like that boy who applied for a job at the hospital with only his wits and his will backing him up. at first, he’d only saw that side of you in front of your most treasured people. your father. your mother. taehyung.

what you and taehyung have - seokjin will never come close to comprehend. a bond so strong, not even death could tear you apart. it became apparent too soon to seokjin that taehyung dominated parts of your life and he’ll only have a but a crevice of his presence in yours. your smile would always be a little brighter when you’re with the younger man. eyes always drifting away from him to taehyung.

and he was content with that but he thinks you’ve changed. or maybe it’s him that did. because you’re grinning at him now - like there’s something up your sleeves. and there is - his eyes widen at your brazenness. one minute he was admiring the way you lasted for hours in those heels that you just kicked off - you’d been wearing them starting from the ceremony to the reception and finally the after party but the next minute, you were grinning and pulling him with you down onto the velvet sheets. the your dress has ridden up to just below your knees in the process and seokjin’s caressing your exposed calf - he thinks you’re all the more delicate. your skin, too soft. he’s afraid he might bruise you.

“oh,” you speak into his mouth before pulling away without even a peck on his lips - but there’s a twinkle in your eyes when you pick up a small golden box that sat prettily on the night stand, “almost forgot. for you.”

“i didn’t get you a wedding gift.” he announces, pushing down the suspicion dominating his brain but how can he not pull out the ribbon to find out what you’ve prepared for him, when you’re looking at him like that? all grin and proud and saying something like you didn’t need one.

then his face falls and he’s looking at you deadpanned in the eye after noting the too familiar tablet of blue pills. but the frown doesn’t live long - he finds himself shaking his head. a smile wedging itself on  his own face, “viagra. really?”

“better safe than sorry, right?” it's not right context - usually, a condom would be involved where that sentenced is used. but you know from seokjin’s dazed stare that he doesn’t get it - but he chooses to admire your features instead.

it takes everything in you not to bury your face in his chest just because his stare is making you feel like a high school girl with a crush. his eyes don’t make you want to reel away from him and cover every scar and lies with a thick blanket anymore. perhaps it has something to do with the fact that there isn’t any that he hasn’t seen. both your flaws and your virtue - if he wanted to run away, there were plenty of chances for him to do so but he stayed and now - now, you’ll never let him go. hold him captive in your castle, smooth criminal. you lean and press a kiss on his lips - just to make him close his eyes.

when you pull away, his lips chases yours. just like moth drawn to flames. you can’t help but giggle - it’s cut short when his hand weaves itself into your hair and bring you down to him.

you barely notice the hand that wraps around your wrist before your back hits the soft mattress. his shoulders appear more broad now that he’s hunched over you like a beast who hasn’t had a drop of water since the drought. at times like these you’re reminded of how man he is and how woman you are. a fact you seem to forget because he’s been playing along with your little games like a well-behaved child.

“hey, no fair!” lips pursed, you cross your arms in a show of protest. but he chuckles that soothing chuckle and he’s standing on his knees while the frame of his belt glints in warning.

your heart skips a beat at the sight of his arousal that was begging to be released from the confinements of his cobalt blue pants. the sigh he breathes out when he pulls down the zipper, sends shivers down your spine.but disappointment makes your face fall when he leaves it like that instead of pushing his pants down along with it.

that’s okay. you tell yourself. we’re married now-

you reach out for him only to have a hand wrap around your wrist, your fingers hovering achingly close to the gentle protrusion in his black boxers but not really touching.

you crane your neck to look at him but when your eyes meet, your words die in your throat. the smile is gone and in its place, is a tilted smirk, “are you sure? once we start i might not be able to stop.”

it’s that question that gets your heart writhing and crying to be set free from the confinement of your rib cages.

“seokjin,” the name tastes delectably sinful tonight, “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

maybe it’s the vow you’re making on the absolutely zero occasion where you’ve been this rapt by a man. maybe it’s your out of character use of the curse - that’s just how much you want this. or maybe it’s both. either way, seokjin’s gripping handfuls of your dress and you wordlessly raise your hands up for him to pull your dress off you.

it’s the way his eyes travel down your body. hunger. madness. lust. they meld together in those darkened eyes of his yet you’ve never felt so safe. he dives in for a kiss. this time, it’s raw and passionate and has no intention to stop halfway - not after he made it clear that he couldn’t and not after you pleaded for him to take you.

your white cotton bra is first to go - you only wore it because the straps won’t contrast too much with the strap of your dress. initially, you were going to tease him a bit and disappear into the bathroom to change into the lacy black lingerie set you’d specifically ordered to be custom made by victoria’s secret. but with the way he’s kneading your breast in his palm and the way you’re clawing against his clothed chest like a ravenous creature - the lingerie can wait.

“take off your clothes.” in your head, it sounded more demanding - but it comes out breathy and begging. a part of you chide yourself for waving the white flag before the game even began but another part of you is tired of being the only one bare and naked.

there’s a godless gleam in his eyes the moment he heard your request and you should have known seokjin wouldn’t make it that easy for you. this is karma coming back to bite you in your butt naked state after all those times you spent teasing the man and him accepting it without any complaint. you thought he was just mature enough to get over it. it turns out he was just a beast laying in wait to claim what he deserves, “what’s the magic word?”

“please.” you answer in a heartbeat.

that same heart stops beating the second he shakes his head. no. wrong answer. “the other one - do you really think i didn’t notice? the way you tease me - the way you know i won’t do anything about it because i’m older, i have to be a bigger person?”

that’s when your pride comes crashing in like tidal wave. walk away, it says. you take back what you said about having nothing to hide from seokjin - there’s one. and you thought you’d keep it with you. let it be buried in your grave. but he knows - like he knows every layer of your existence. your every desire and compulsion. it’s disgraceful and mortifying, for you. but seokjin holds your gaze and wait, wait, wait - he doesn’t seem to share your thoughts - doesn’t look disgusted either.

“daddy.” the moment the word leaves your mouth, you feel liberated. freed. like a long overdue confession. the pleased look on seokjin’s face is everything and more. “daddy, please.”

“as you wish.” he’s your liberator. your freer. and he’s about to grant your one carnal desire.

his clothes hit the ground within less than a minute. you can’t help but gawk at his perfectly sculpted physique. it’s like gods personally descended the heavens and blessed him in his mother’s womb and stayed by his side up until now - only for him to scorn them right in this moment. your body bounces off the bed lightly when his fingers dig in your thigh, pulling you closer like a ragged doll. a small yelp escapes you.

your panties are the last to go. discarded somewhere on the floor along with yours and his wedding attire.

the first whimper escapes the moment he slips into you, but not fully. he lets you take him in, get used to his size and directs your hand to his lips before placing it on his shoulder. as if telling you, you can hurt him, claw him until his back is raw and bleeding.

you wouldn’t at first - opting to keep your hands fisted while you try your hardest to suppress every moan that erupts from your mouth with every stroke. but then he hits that sweet spot. your back arches forward and you think it’s that moment when your fingers break the delicate skin on his back - but you can’t remember. it’s a blur - the electricity coursing from your heart through your veins and curls your toes. the stars you see in the back of your mind and the way you tighten around him when the delectable sound of his moans brushes the shell of your ear as he holds you against him.

he almost crushed him underneath his weight when he pulls out of you. the traces of his arousal pressing in between your bodies as he forces himself up by propping himself on his forearms. his labored breath fans your face and he’s all you see.

there’s still a surplus of tingle in your lower abdomen how high he takes you - almost like cloud nine. and you’re slick with sweat and body fluid but there’s no where you’d rather be than here, in your husband’s arms.

five months ago, you approached him with the objective of gaining a husband to take the chairman position and maybe give you the grandchild that your mother’s been asking you for. you didn’t expect for anything more than what you bargained for. but the first time he told you how he felt - you still didn’t believe him. 

it was too surreal. and seokjin probably saw the tendrils of doubt every time he tells you how he feels - at the most sporadic moment. but he kept picking your thorns one by one like he could do this for a hundred years and more. you think i was that day when he found out about your past feelings for taehyung that he started. and he finally picked all of your prickly spikes - and now, he’s holding you like a child. head buried in between your breasts, muscled arms loosely hugging your waist. what a contrasting different to the man he was half an hour ago but so very seokjin of him.

the elated breath he lets out with his sigh is warm on your skin, “you know how to make an old man feel young.”

there he does it again. he’s been saying he’s old even though he’s only in his 30′s. at first you thought he was joking but over time - you think he truly believes he is. but when you agree with him-

“is your back okay? wouldn’t want your ancient bones breaking.” you pat his head sympathetically. 

almost as if you’ve pushed a that button with a flashy warning red on it, his fingers twine around your wrist and pull it away from his head. the bed shifts as he hovers over you with an aggrieved glint, “i’m sure there are greater things that little mouth of yours can do than express your concerns for my back, sweetheart.”

your heart skips a beat.

x

epilogue.

you love being married.

not because you can strut to seokjin’s office and have everyone know you have every right to be there. nor because the board can’t really say anything since seokjin fits every characteristics of a chairman either. but because-

“we’ve been at it like rabbits,” seokjin shoulder line jolts slightly when your arms gently wrap around him from behind but there’s a sort of mirth laced in his voice, “you’re still not tired?”

“what ever do you mean, dear husband?” your voice is sweet but not entirely innocent.

sure, you did it an hour ago and you’re both supposed to get ready for bed but when you stepped out of the bathroom and find the bed empty, you had to wander outside. you know he’d be in the living room reviewing past years’ reports in his preparation to take on your dad’s position. he could just step up first and get familiar with his job along the way - but it wouldn’t have been very seokjin to enter the battlefield without polishing his armor.

he smells like peppermint and lavender. donning a plain white shirt and grey sweats - it’s the second most dressed down you’ve ever seen him in compared to the white-collars you’re so used to seeing him in. the first, being when he’s in bed, of course.

“okay, well, i’m going to bed first.” with a peck on his cheek, you bid him a good night.

but it’s not in your nature to give up without a fight - or rather, without sauntering in front him in your pastel pink camisole. you put on the a black and gold corset on your first monthivasery - it was just an excuse for you to try on the lingerie and it paid off. but there’s just something about camisoles - floral or plain pastels are what gets him prancing on you like a hungry beast. it looks like you’re not the only one with a fetish.

the cleaner comes in every twice a week and you’re not here enough to mess up the place except the master bedroom - like seokjin said, you have been going at it like rabbits. still, you bend down, making sure your ass is perked a little higher as you rearrange the picture frames on the rack under the tv.

a tune of your favorite song vibrates against your throat for thirty-six seconds before you straighten your back and begin to walk towards the bedroom. but something you caught in your periphery halts your steps, “did you just check out my ass then bite your lip? ‘cause if you did we’re having sex. right now.”

that seems to catch him off guard - you’ve been finding new and creative ways to get fucked. some worked. and by worked, you mean it had you moaning and writhing as he took you raw. some failed. meaning he had relented mainly because you were asking and he wanted to please you - at times like those, he was the one lying down, watching you ride him but halfway through, he’d pulled you down and started fucking you missionary because ‘you were good darling, but watching you makes me want to personally fuck you senseless. you can ride me next time, i promise.’

either way, your work life is superb and your sex life is out of this world. especially with a husband like seokjin. guess that dry spell has finally lifted and unleashed the hungry beast in him.

seokjin sighs, eyebrows coming together in a troubled frown but the lump in his pants say otherwise. “when you’re sore and need me to walk you to your office tomorrow, remember you asked for this.”

something in the pit of your stomach churns. your heart races with adrenaline as he takes two steps with those long legs of his and close the distance. a yelp escapes your lips, not expecting him to hoist you over his shoulder like you weight nothing and landing a smack on your ass like he’s reprimanding you.

“seokjin! put me down, i’m heavy!” you cry out, smacking his back in protest. when you wanted him to take you, this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind - it’d be a completely, perfect lie if you say you weren’t dripping with excitement.

“this way’s faster than your tiny little legs, darling.” you can hear the smirk in his voice before he kisses the exposed skin on your hip.

x

note: and that’s it. but it’s not over yet! there might be drabbles coming up on our fav couple’s adventure as they try to get preggo lmaooo also i’ll be doing a ‘story time’ where i talk about the background of this fic - what inspired me to write it, why i titled it like the way i did and i’d like to dissect and oc and tae’s relationship and so much more. send me an ask if you have something in particular you want me to address from the fic!

if you like this fic feel free to check out namjoon’s version called good guys finish last. i’m also planning to turn this au into a series for every member. taehyung or yoongi will be next!

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Origin of MC

Just filling in some blanks here. Heheh

“Are you really okay with leaving her there?”

Principal Hilbert Ron Anjou had just boarded the helicopter and soared into the stormy skies over Tokyo headed for an artificial island. An impossible number of Corpse Guards, zombie creatures enchanted by alchemy, had awakened and answered the call of the Light King’s arrival. Not only would that many creatures overwhelm Japan and cost thousands of lives, they would announce the existence of dragons to the world. The Nations of the world would come across a power more dangerous than nuclear bombs and the resulting slaughter that would come from a new Cold War would make a disaster in Tokyo fade from the history books. They were the last stand against the encroaching horde and the potential world shattering disaster. It was likely that Anjou wouldn't survive this encounter. The possibility of failure was high. Their only hope was to attract all of these beasts and survive that concentrated number of monsters long enough to set off a bomb that would kill them all in an instant.

And yet Caesar was asking about that girl.

Principal Anjou reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a swiss hand powered gold watch. He pressed his thumb and it snapped open. “You lasted five whole minutes. It seems this mission has matured you.”

“Answer the goddamn question.”

The tone in Caesar’s voice would have made even a seasoned mobster beg for his life. Caesar was good at bluffing and bluster and could be intimidating for fun. Anjou turned his head and looked Caesar in the eyes. That icy stare was completely serious. Whatever Anjou said would likely define their entire relationship going forward. Either Anjou would win Caesar over now or potentially end up on a hit list down the line.

Anjou returned the watch to his pocket and  then dug out another object. He handed Caesar a black thumb drive marked with the Cassell World tree. These black drives were top secret and only issued to those directly involved in high level operations. “The password is Lenin.”

When Caesar plugged in the drive into his tablet computer, he had twenty seconds and one chance to enter the password correctly. His eyes widened slightly when Chu Zihang deftly reached over and entered it for him. Caesar leaned away. “Hey! He gave it to me, not you!”

Chu Zihang was expressionless and silent. He knew Caesar had an issue with remembering and entering passwords on the Trieste.

Caesar huffed and looked at the image before him. It was the MC lying covered in cloth on an operating table. An IV was in her arm and an oxygen mask was over her face. She looked asleep.

“When she arrived we thought she was dead. Not only was she frozen solid with no pulse, she was riddled with bullets from large caliber machine gun rounds.”

“Where did she come from?” Caesar flipped to the next picture that displayed the last clothes she wore. It was a colorful and warm coat and dress, like a young girl should wear to a party.

“She came with no postmark or packing slip. It’s not like UPS would deliver cargo like that.” Anjou chuckled. “She was hand delivered to our doorstep like a baby in a basket.”

Caesar flipped to the next picture. There was a note on modern notebook paper that had two numbers on it. “Coordinates?”

“Yes, when we entered the coordinates they took us to the middle of the sea of Japan. Nowhere near Siberia.”

“Then the person who sent her knew about the dragon’s awakening before we did?”

Anjou didn’t turn around. He stared into the stormy sea ahead of them. The dark ocean was foaming white and was hilly with waves, like a moving mountain range. “She also came with two injections of a special serum that would stabilize her bloodline.”

Caesar flipped to that photo of the serum that was entrusted to Chu Zihang. It was labeled in Japanese script with the symbol of the Devil Clan on it. “Who ever sent her... knew… everything?”

“You haven’t written your report yet. If you say they knew everything… then I assume you understand what you're looking at more than I do. What I remember most was when her heart finally started to beat. It was within that hour that I received notification that the dragon embryo was detected at the exact coordinates on the note she came with.”

Anjou sighed. “How could I not send her with you? Hybrids like her are not permitted into Cassell College with good reason. It was a gamble. After all, she could have been sent to sabotage us.” Anjou finally turned to face Caesar, eyes narrowed. “Was she?”

Caesar’s shoulders lowered and released their tension, looking at the tablet. “No. She has been an asset to the mission and knew vital information. I don’t know how we would have made it without her.”

Anjou nodded sagely. “It’s not that I’m okay with leaving her at the Well. I trust that is where she needs to be. Where she was assigned to be by the one who sent her. I believe MC was sent to kill the god.”

Caesar looked up, eyes wide. “Then why bother using the weapon at all? Just shut it down!”

“I’ve left the kinetic weapon in the care of the Vice Principal.” Anjou grinned. “He has the same information I do.”

Caesar sat back in his seat, letting all his breath out. He smiled, running his hands through his hair. “You could have just said that.”

Anjou turned to face front. “Consider it a trust building exercise, my boy!” 

Anjou was serious on the outside but inside he was gleeful. Judging from Caesar’s response alone the MC had made a fantastic impression on her first mission. If she completed this assignment, she was sure to get a passing grade and scholarship at the college! 

[skarsgard-daydreams]

Voices Carry

Ch. 6: “The Passenger”

[ Eins | Zwei | Drei | Vier | Fünf | Sechs | Sieben | Acht | Neun | Zehn | Elf ]

Description: Merkel accepts a job to smuggle a young woman out of East Berlin, and it turns out to be more than he bargained for.

Warnings: strong language, smoking, drinking, poor grasp of the German language, possible historical liberties

Notes: I have a playlist of my chapter title songs now! Love you all.

The woman slipped her dog-eared copy of Dostoevsky’s The Idiot into the brown leather satchel resting beside her and tucked her hands into her pockets as she watched her target disembark from the train. He was with a girl she had never seen before. The girl had mousy brown hair and stood half a foot shorter than he did, holding hands as though they were sweethearts. Strange, the woman thought. Agent Walker would ask her later why she didn’t follow him off the train. She couldn’t quite place it. Something about his posture had shifted in between stations. Maybe it was the way the muscles in his jaw had tightened, or the way the fingers of his right hand had twitched, but at that exact moment, she knew she’d been made. Gordon Merkel was incredibly cautious. If she spooked him now, she knew it would blow the whole mission. When he put his arm around the girl and walked off the train, the woman let him go.

~

Snowflakes had begun to drift over the grey city by the time Merkel slipped into the back alley behind the old paper mill. Irina was sniffling from the cold, but she hadn’t complained about the long, roundabout path he took from the subway station. Although he hadn’t sensed anyone following them, Merkel still felt bringing her here was too conspicuous. Perhaps he’d have been better off bringing the camera home to photograph her himself.

Merkel shouldered open the door to the warehouse. It was blissfully warm inside from the fire burning in a blackened metal barrel in the center of the room, bathing the walls in an orange light and casting flickering shadows. The space was cluttered with furniture they had scavenged from the offices of the mill, scattered about as though the decorating had been left up to someone with no concept of geometry. The tools of their trade were spread out on every available surface—empty canisters of film, plastic bottles of adhesive, half-used boxes of the specialty paper used for travel authorizations. A red light shined under the door on the far side of the room and a metallic scent lingered in the air, the familiar mixture of ink and photo developer.

Bastian hunched over the massive photocopier, arguing with Sonja as he tried to fix a paper jam. Sonja stood beside him with her arms crossed over her denim jacket, her stringy blonde hair teased to double its volume and falling into her face. “Leave it for Merkel,” she said, her tone insistent.

They both looked up when the door opened, and Bastian’s eyes narrowed. “Where the fuck have you been?”

Merkel shot him a sharp look and ushered Irina over to the fire to thaw out, tugging off his gloves and warming his hands over the flame. “What did you do to my copier?” he asked, noticing that the side panel had been pried off the finicky machine.

“I was fixing a jam.” Bastian moved toward the fire and lit a cigarette, his gaze flickering up and down as he stared at Irina, who took off her coat and draped it over a chair.

Merkel made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. He’d spend months building the machine, smuggling parts from the repair shop where he worked and Frankensteining them together into a semi-functional photocopier without a government registration. In his impatience, Bastian had probably disrupted the delicate balance of mismatched parts and made even more work for him. Merkel rubbed his hands together and looked at Irina. “This Dummkopf is going to take your photo for a passport.”

“An American passport?” Irina asked, unwinding the scarf from her neck.

Bastian snorted. “They’d never believe you were American, Süße.”

“Piss off and find something useful to do,” Merkel snapped in annoyance. He was tired of cleaning up Bastian’s messes, and he didn’t like the way the other man stared at Irina and called her ‘sweetie.’ For a moment, it seemed like Bastian was going to argue, but then he snatched a lamp from the desk and stalked off to set up a backdrop for the passport photo.

Irina watched their exchange curiously, saying nothing. Merkel shrugged off his coat and moved to the copier, rolling up his sleeves. The stupid bastard had nearly snapped off one of the rollers trying to release a single jammed sheet of paper. Merkel slipped his index finger under the release latch and flicked it open, freeing the paper easily. But the latch didn’t click back into place when he tried to move the roller back into position. Merkel crouched down to examine the mechanism. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sonja perch on a desk by the fire and let Irina have a sip from her flask, chatting with her as though they had always been friends.

“I think those two just need to hump each other already,” Sonja remarked dryly. “Like dogs establishing dominance.”

Irina choked on her drink, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Sonja,” Merkel chastised, but there was a lightness in his voice as he fought the urge to laugh. “Shut up.”

When Lukas arrived, he brought several sandwiches piled with pastrami and sauerkraut. Merkel took a break from the mechanical surgery. He wiped the toner from his hands on a grimy cloth and leaned back against a rusted metal desk as they ate around the fire. They were all eager for news about the car. Lukas sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair, which was overgrown and curled around his ears.

“Fucking communist engineering,” Lukas grumbled. “The drive shaft is broken again.”

“Have you tried sticky tape?” Merkel asked, lighting a cigarette with a wry grin.

They sat there for a while, listening to Lukas complain and Bastian spin a tale about how the Stasi had broken into someone’s apartment and stolen nothing but a pair of dirty underwear. “What the hell would they do that for?” Lukas wondered aloud.

Sonja shrugged and took a drink from her flask. “They’re perverts.”

“Scent hounds,” Irina said quietly.

The boys nodded and hummed in agreement. Merkel offered her a drag of his cigarette. She took it from him carefully, glancing at his face. They hadn’t really spoken since they boarded the train. He held her gaze and smiled a little, leaving her to finish the cigarette as he returned to the copier. Once he made a few more adjustments and replaced the outer panel, the test sheet went through without jamming.

“There,” Merkel said to Bastian. “Don’t touch it again.”

The rest of the afternoon they spent forging the travel authorization and a little blue Reisepass for the gentleman they were to smuggle out tomorrow afternoon. Sonja, being the one with the best handwriting, sat on a desk and turned the documents upside down to copy the signatures of the authorizing officials onto the forgeries. Merkel weathered the booklet, gently creasing its spine so that it wouldn’t look newly minted. When they were done, Bastian checked over their work with a small magnifying glass, making sure that it looked authentic.

“It’s good,” he said, and then grinned at Irina with that perfect white smile. “We’ll make yours tomorrow.”

“What about my father?” Irina asked.

Scheiße, Merkel thought as his three friends stared at him. Bastian recovered quickly.

“Don’t worry about that, Süße,” Bastian said. He stared at Merkel as he spoke—an unspoken warning that he certainly wasn’t about to risk his neck for a dead man. “Merkel will handle that once you’re on the other side.”

Merkel pressed his lips together tightly. Sonja’s nostrils flared. She looked as though she planned to castrate him later. “Isn’t that right, Gordon?” she added, using his first name because she knew exactly how much he hated it.

“I have it under control,” Merkel said.

His gaze landed on Irina. She was too clever to believe the lie. She stared at him fiercely, and in her eyes, he saw nothing but seething contempt.

German Glossary:

Dummkopf - dummy

Süße - sweetie or sweet one (considered flirty)

Reisepass - passport

Scheiße - shit

@skrsgardspam @b-afterhours @flowers-in-your-hayr @bebetriste @bethskarsgard @xluvparis @bskarsgardlove92 @scuba-seamus @goblincxnt @dragsraksllib @upirs @stevesharrlngtons @jj-lynn21 @scxrsgxrd @lihikainanea​ @lostartcambar @dreamtherapy @grandpa-sweaters​ @hausofobsession​ @loomiz​ @walkxthexmoon​ @ladadada-da​ @emmyrosee​ @romangodfreyownsmyass​

[for-fucks-sake-h]

As You Held Onto Me - One

*a/n: Hello and welcome to the first chapter of this little universe! I hope you enjoy it. Huge thank you to my babes @sleepyeyedficsnrecs​ @biteharrysthigh​ @bbletsdoitallovragain​ @imethiminthemorning​ for proofing and supporting me and being genuinely beautiful people. Happy reading! x 

CATCH UP ON PREVIOUS PARTS HERE    

Rated: M, mature // Word Count: 8.6k 

Sometimes, love can feel like it’s everything. And sometimes, we hope it can be.

***

- Monday, January 5, 2013 -    

The walk from your car to the back door of the old brick building felt exceedingly long for only being a few minutes. Probably due to the biting cold wind that whipped across your face and threatened to rip your scarf right off your neck.    

It also may have felt like a 5k marathon due to it being your first day at your new job. It wasn’t much, just a few nights a week, but you couldn’t shake the nerves settling in your belly as you clicked your key fob to hear your car lock for the second time.  You were excited for the change, and the new experience. And you thought it would be good for you to hopefully make some new friends while you did your online courses.  

The wind whistled obnoxiously as you pulled the heavy metal door open to stumble into the building, exhaling deeply as your cheeks immediately began to warm at the stark change of temperature.  

You started down a narrow hallway toward the office you knew was situated at the end as you unwrapped your scarf, desperately trying to steady your breathing. A quick glance past a tall cart full of pastry desserts showed a busy kitchen with servers dressed just like you in black dress pants, white button down shirts and bowties. 

A familiar voice spoke your name from behind you. Shannon, your middle aged manager, stood in the doorway of the office with a warm smile when you turned to greet her.  You were quick to walk towards her, extending your hand the way you were taught, gripping hers firmly as you smiled.  

“Perfect timing.”  

“Hi, Shannon. How are you?”  

“Great! Come on in here so we can get you set up,” she spoke with a hand extended towards her office as she welcomed you into the small, plainly decorated space. “Nervous?” She spoke once the door was closed behind you.  

“A little,” you smiled shyly.  

“Well, don’t be. Everyone’s nice. They’ll show you the way, help when you need it. Team effort and all that.”  She waved her hands nonchalantly as she turned her back to you, making her way over to her desk.  “I just have a couple things for you to sign, direct deposit slip and such. Then we’ll set up your clock and ID and go get your badge done with HR.”  

She waved you over to her side, lifting a pen in your direction with one hand as she pointed to the lined paper, indicating where you should sign each document.  You watched her quietly as she stapled the papers together before tucking them away in what you assumed to be your file.  

“You can put your jacket and things over there,” she nodded toward an open coat closet. 

You did as you were told, gingerly wrapping your scarf around the neck of a hanger before adding your coat. Your heart rate seemed to be easing a bit as you got accustomed to the new environment. When you turned back toward Shannon she was typing away on her computer, leaving you to silently wait for your next instruction.  

“Okay, I just let Cindy know we’d be up in a minute. Let’s set this thing up real quick.” She walked towards the door of the office again where a small machine was mounted on the wall. “So this is the clock in machine. You’ll just place your hand on it with the sensors between your fingers. You can clock in seven minutes before your shift. Try not to forget to do it,” she spoke as she pressed a few buttons on the machine. “It’s not a huge deal if you do forget once in a while, just try not to make a habit out of it. Messes with HR,” she giggled. “Here you go, just put your hand in and it’ll prompt you to lift it three times.”  

You did as you were told, watching the screen as it read your palm every time you placed your hand onto the sensor.  

“Don’t forget the sanitizer,” she spoke again once the machine beeped in completion.  “Here’s your apron and bowtie.  We have some extras if you’re in a pinch or forget it one day. Just be sure to put them back if you do borrow one.” She extended the neatly folded apron and bowtie towards you. “Chuck them on and we’ll go see Cindy for your badge and then I’ll introduce you to your trainer.”  

She headed towards the door as she spoke, leaving you to follow meekly as you tucked the apron under your arm to swiftly put your bow tie on. You followed her through the kitchen, taking in the quick atmosphere of the staff as they prepped for dinner. Pots banged as the cooks finished prepping the serving line. You noticed a girl changing inserts of what looked to be a juice machine. Someone else carried a large pot of soup to an opening in the counter that was the perfect width.  

She opened a side door for you once you crossed the busy room, noticing a dish washing station towards the back of the kitchen before going into a narrow stairwell. You threw the necktie of your apron over your head once you were in the elevator, tying the strings behind your back as the door dinged and began to open.  

Cindy was nice enough, seemingly ready to leave for the night and get done with your name badge as quickly as possible. She took a quick photo of your face in front of a blue backdrop and was quiet as she plugged the camera into her computer to print your badge.  

“Thank you,” you spoke as she handed you the laminated plastic once it was attached to a small silver butterfly clip.  

“Thanks Cind, have a good night,” Shannon spoke as she nodded for you to head out of the room first. You heard a mumbled reply of you too come from the office as Shannon followed you out.    

“Don’t mind her,” she spoke quietly with a small chuckle as she pushed the elevator button once more, “she’s like that with everyone. Just clip that badge to the top of your apron.”  

You followed Shannon into the elevator, smoothing down the front of your apron as you took the trip back down a few floors in silence. This time the front doors of the elevator opened, the dining room straight ahead and a lounge/waiting area towards your left.  

You followed Shannon the few steps towards a small oak desk and podium where a boy, maybe a few years older than you, stood smiling and greeting residents as they passed with their walkers and motorized scooters. 

“This is Joe, he’s the host and in charge tonight,” she introduced.  

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile which you returned softly.  

“Joe!” A small woman with a walker stood behind the podium. “Are you going to make me wait forty-five minutes tonight?” She asked exasperated.   

“Hi Mrs. Kavinsky,” he spoke loud and clear towards the woman. “I already checked you and Mr. Kavinsky in to make up for last night,” he smiled forcefully as the woman shook her head with a roll of her eyes.  

“You’re really getting bad representation tonight,” Shannon laughed as Mrs. Kavinsky walked away. “I promise it’s not always like this. She just met Cindy,” she spoke to Joe, a knowing nod and smile coming from him in acknowledgement. “Who do you have training her tonight?”  

“Harry’s here.” 

“Awesome, call him out.”  

Joe grabbed the phone beside his podium and with a push of a button was talking to someone, telling whoever was on the other line to send your trainer out to the front.  

You stood with your fingers clasped together in front of you, taking in the expanse of the dining room.  For such a deceivingly plain office and kitchen, the dining room was elegantly decorated.  Vaulted ceilings, beautiful art hanging on the walls, expensive tables and chairs with polished table settings.  There was a large chandelier in the center of the room and a fire place situated on the far right wall. To say the least, it was a stark difference from the plain white walls in Shannon’s office.  

“Ah there he is!” Shannon spoke excitedly.  

You turned toward the direction of the kitchen to see a tall boy walking towards you. It was like your brain took in a different aspect of him every second. Dark, chestnut hair curled around his ears. Broad shoulders. Radiant skin despite the freezing temperatures. His apron tied around his narrow waist. 

He gave a small wave as he neared, light green eyes coming into focus as they washed over your features. Your cheeks burned immediately. He was beyond handsome as a sweet, dimpled smile spread across his face.    

“Hey, ya alright?” He spoke in general, but his eyes flicked back to you a few times. His voice was surprisingly deep, making the nerves in your belly erupt all over again.  

Shannon spoke up, introducing you both. You exchanged shy smiles with Harry as he tucked his hands into his pockets, seemingly nervous. “Harry’s our best trainer. He’ll take care of you,” Shannon praised. “I’ll leave you to it.” 

He smiled down to the floor as Shannon passed with a pat on his shoulder. You noticed the top of his ear that peeked through his hair was bright pink when he turned towards the oak desk, grabbing a clipboard and bringing it towards you. 

“So this is the section chart,” he got right to it, showing you the layout of the dining room and which section would be yours for the evening. His cologne lingered once he was close enough, hints of sweet melon and warm vanilla floating off his skin. A small cross tattoo caught your eye as he pointed to your section. Your eyebrow twitched minutely with intrigue.  

“Come on,” he spoke, pulling your attention back to his face, “I’ll show you around.”  

He led you into the kitchen, showing you a bulletin board where various announcements hung from tiny tacks. “Side work is here,” he pointed with the cross tattooed hand. “You do this before dinner and this one after,” referring to the two columned sheets of paper hanging on the bottom left corner of the board. You nodded, quickly following as he started walking again. 

He was thorough as he walked you around the kitchen, showing you where various things could be found and explaining how the service would operate.  

“Always greet the table with bread, it’ll make your life easier,” he explained, his words slow as they rolled off his tongue. After, you’d take drinks and then soup and salad. He showed you how you would call out your meals as you made your way down the serving line. “Always be polite, always check on your tables between courses, always have extra straws in your apron pocket.” He piled the information on in such a short period of time that you couldn’t help feeling a bit overwhelmed.  

“Hey,” he acknowledged the look on your face. “It sounds like a lot but I promise you’ll pick it up quick. Just a matter of doing it.” He was comforting; warm and sweet in the way he attempted to ease your mind.  “Tonight you’ll just kinda watch me, help with things. Tomorrow you can do more on your own. We’ll take it a day at a time. Promise by the end of the week you’ll be an expert.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled, silently admiring the way a tiny double chin formed as he looked down to the floor with a small grin.  

“Come on, Joe’s gonna go over the menu in a minute.” 

You followed him over to the corner of the kitchen where the rest of the staff stood waiting. He leaned his hip against the metal counter, crossing his arms casually. In the limited time you’d spent with Harry, he came across easily cool with minimum effort.  He was nice in a way that seemed natural and not just put on. And there was definitely no way to deny how attractive he was.  

“Alright guys,” Joe clapped as he came into the kitchen.  “First off, let’s welcome our newest server,” he stretched a hand out in your direction, all eyes on you as he introduced you. Your cheeks warmed but smiled as you greeted the group of seven servers you’d be working with alongside Harry. 

He went through the menu quickly, everyone jotting down the soup options and specials for the evening.  “I got it,” Harry leaned in and whispered when you started to pull your pad and pen from your apron. He smiled when you met his gaze before he looked back towards his own pad as he jotted the options down. 

You couldn’t pull your eyes from him for a moment, letting yourself take in the ridiculously straight line of his nose and sharp cut of his jaw.  His skin was smooth, clean shaven without a mark on it aside from a small mole just off the corner of his mouth. His lips seemed to get even more pink as he bit them repeatedly and his eyes flicked up to Joe and then to you. 

You flinched and looked away quickly, warmth spreading across your face at being caught.  

“That’s it! Have a good night guys.” Joe clapped again as everyone headed out into the dining room.  

“So I’ll introduce you to the tables and you can kinda just go through the motions with me,” Harry spoke over his shoulder as he led you towards the back station where drinks and bread were kept.  You watched as he bent over to pull a bread basket from the warmer and grabbed a pair of tongs from the counter. “Think you can handle giving them bread to start?”  

You took the bread basket with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. His smirk was lethal. Dimples etched into his cheeks with a slight smugness that was just shy of being annoying.  Truth was, it wasn’t annoying at all. If you were being really honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have minded seeing the smirk again. And you definitely wouldn’t have minded being the cause of it.  

The night went pretty smoothly. You didn’t drop any glasses and didn’t spill anything on anyone as you helped Harry serve your section. Your conversation was easy but limited as you worked. You did learn that he moved from the UK when he was seventeen when his dad got a promotion. He lived in the next town over and was only a year older than you with his nineteenth birthday in a few weeks. He went to school and worked at the retirement home as often as he could without interfering with school. 

You also learned that he was charming and funny, especially when talking to the residents.  They all seemed to love him; happy, excited banter when they realized he’d be their server. He was kind, checking on them often and making sure they had everything they needed.  

As the night slowed down, Harry showed you how to do your section’s sideworks and how to set the tables for the next day’s breakfast shift.  You were in the kitchen as he demonstrated the intricate way you needed to fold your assigned portion of 50 silverware sets into a neat napkin ring when another server came up to you.  

“Hey, how’d you like your first shift?” She smiled at you as she nudged Harry with her shoulder.  

You remembered her name was Emma, but you still glanced at her name tag to make sure. “It was good! Yeah, I liked it.”  

“Harry’s a great teacher,” she laughed with a wiggle of her eyebrows.  

“Oi get out of here,” he shook his head as he smiled, pushing Emma away from you. 

She barked a loud laugh as she slapped his forearms playfully. “Did you tell her about Three Monkey’s?” She directed her question to you.  

You watched the exchange between them, noticing the way Harry’s eyes fell to the ground as he spoke. “No, no. I - I didn’t have a chance to mention it yet,” he stumbled through his words for the first time since meeting him, the slightest flush rising on his cheeks.  

“We’re going to grab something to eat there once we’re done,” Emma turned back to you, “wanna come?”  

“Oh, um, yeah sure,” you smiled graciously. “Thanks.” 

“Course. You can ride over with me and Heather if you want? The parking is shit there,” she giggled.  

“That’d be great, thanks.”  

“Yeah, don’t mention it! We’ll exchange numbers before we leave.” 

“Em!” Joe called from across the kitchen, “is your side work done?!”  “Oh bite me, Joe!”  

You laughed with them as she stalked towards him and threw a rag in his face on her way.  Harry was quiet and already looking at you when you glanced at him, a small smile playing on his lips. You could feel his eyes still on you as you folded the rest of your silverware. It took everything in you not to look at him again and you hoped the flush you felt on your cheeks wasn’t too obvious.  You followed everyone out once you’d all clocked out, agreeing on meeting at the restaurant in an hour. Emma introduced you to Heather as you exchanged numbers and texted her your address.  

Once you were home, you gave your parents the quickest overview of your first night before going to quickly freshen up. You changed out of your uniform and into some jeans and a cozy sweater. You also let your hair down, brushed your teeth and sprayed a little perfume. Just as you swiped some mascara on, a text from Emma came that they were out front.  

Luckily, the drive was short and the girls were super sweet. Your conversation was steady as you all complained about your college courses.  Heather was taking online classes as well, so it was nice to bond with her over that. It was nice to be making some new friends in general.    

Emma was lucky enough to find a spot near the restaurant, but you still did a huddled power walk to the building to get out of the harsh cold as quickly as possible. They must have been there a lot because the host greeted Emma by name, telling her it’d only be a few minutes for them to get a table together.   The rest of the group joined in the small waiting area of the restaurant moments later, bringing the cold with them as they piled in. You tucked your chin down into your scarf as the cold air brushed your skin once more, looking up to see Harry as the culprit for letting the icy wind burn your face.  

“Fucking freezing,” he mumbled as he pulled the door closed. He brought himself right next to you, the sleeve of his jacket brushing yours as you looked up at him from where you were tucking the entire lower half of your face into the thick material of your scarf. He smiled down at you, small wisps of hair poking out of his red beanie and curling at his temples. When he noticed the way you curled into yourself as you waited for warmth to consume you, he leaned in barely enough to notice. But you noticed.   

“You okay?” 

“Fucking freezing,” you repeated back to him, the fabric muffling your voice.  He must have heard you clear enough because he smiled widely down to you, flicking his eyes in the direction of the back of the restaurant as he spoke. “They usually put us in the back by the fireplace. Follow my lead. I’ll make sure we’re closest to it.”  

You were happy that your scarf concealed the endeared smile that was pulled from your lips at his words. He was so serious, but had a playful glint in his eye that you couldn’t help but admire. His nose was wind burnt and his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled under the dim overhead lighting.  

Just then the host called Emma’s name, indicating that your table was ready. Harry pushed past you quickly, grabbing your wrist at the last second to pull you with him as he led you down the opposite aisle of tables lined up in the restaurant, effectively cutting off your group and getting the seats directly in front of the fireplace.   

“I’m impressed,” you chuckled as you shrugged your coat and scarf off, handing them to Harry when he opened his palm.  

He mocked offense with a drop of his jaw as he hung your jackets on the nearby rack. “You doubted me?” 

You giggled as you situated yourself in your seat. He was sitting next to you a second later, his cologne invading your senses all over again. It was like the heat of the fire intensified. That or you just recognized it more as it washed over you like it had when you first encountered him.    

He pulled the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands. “Have you been here?” He asked softly.  

“No,” you shook your head with a smile. “Looks good though.”  

You scanned over the menu. It was a step up from a typical bar/restaurant, with every burger concoction you could think of and a very enticing “try our crack fries!” in bold letters across the top of the page.  

“The Mighty Joe Young is the best. If you like pork roll.”    

“Brits eat pork roll?” You teased.  

He laughed with a nod of his head. “They do when they live here.” 

“Alright, I’ll try it.” You closed your menu before adding a cryptic, “hope I’m not disappointed.” 

“Have I steered you wrong yet?”  

You looked over at him, and even though there was a playful smile on his face, his eyes held yours in a way that made you hesitate. The fire cast shadows across the lines of his face, accentuating the deep cut of his cheekbone and jaw. And even though the place was dimly lit, the fire somehow made his eyes bright as he stared back at you.       

You were interrupted as the waitress came to take your orders, tucking some hair behind your ear as you turned away from him. The group quieted down enough for everyone to place their orders. You and Harry ordered identical Mighty Joe Young burgers and crack fries, and he wore the same smirk on his beautiful face as he had at work.  

You got to know your coworkers, engaging in conversation about school and what shows you all were into. It was nice to be included so easily and not feel like an outsider in a group of people who already knew each other so well. You were joking with Heather, who was quick enough to sit on the other side of you to absorb the warmth of the fire, just as your food arrived.  

It was like no one had seen food before, the table going relatively quiet as everyone dug into their first few bites. 

You glanced over to Harry as you took your first bite, finding his eyes already on you, watching you expectantly. You chewed slowly, keeping a straight face. You leaned back in your chair as you finished the bite, his eyes following you the entire time, waiting for your reaction. 

“Ugh, it’s good,” you whined.    

He smiled in victory, looking pleased and smug as he turned back towards his plate to take his own bite. His jaw ticked with every chew. You shouldn’t have found it as attractive as you did. His eyelashes were long, curled and extended away from his eyes as he blinked; like a delicate frame around a vast landscape painting. 

You blinked away before anyone became suspicious of your staring, especially Harry. 

You enjoyed the rest of your dinner, talking between bites and laughing at jokes as you tried to cover your burger filled mouth. 

Once your plates were cleared, you felt Harry turn towards you, casually placing his elbow on the back of your chair. You tilted your face in his direction as he spoke. 

Your lips kinked up in a smile, “I really did like it.” 

“Did ya?” His voice went up an octave. “You’re kinda hard to read. Mysterious and all that,” he joked softly. 

“I’m really not though,” you laughed. 

He leaned in a half an inch closer with a simply murmured, “I beg to differ.” 

You weren’t sure if it was his close proximity or the tone of his voice but he made your skin erupt in goosebumps and your heart unironically skip a beat. He smiled as he leaned away, that ever present twinkle in his eyes shining back at you. 

You were brought back by Joe calling both your names from the other end of the long table. 

“You guys wanna see a movie?”  

Harry answered immediately, “I’m alright man. Gonna head home, gotta be up early.”  

You turned towards Heather and Emma with a nod of your head. “What are you guys doing?” 

“Yeah I could go for a movie,” Emma agreed first, Heather following right behind. 

You hesitated for a moment as you nodded in acknowledgement, debating your options. “Um —” 

“I could drop you off if you don’t wanna go,” Harry interrupted. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah no problem at all,” he sang happily, leaning his elbows on the table with a smile.   

“Yeah, okay. I’ll pass tonight guys,” you turned back to Joe and the girls, “thanks though.” 

“Next time,” Emma pointed her finger sternly at you. 

“Definitely,” you chuckled. 

Everyone got their things together once the bill was settled, bundling up for the inevitable icy temperature. You hugged Emma and Heather at the door, thanking them for bringing you and telling them to enjoy the movie.   

You started to follow everyone out of the restaurant but were caught by your elbow by Harry’s firm hand. 

“I’m this way,” he nodded in the opposite direction.  

You walked quickly, holding your jacket and scarf as close to you as possible as you followed Harry to his 1999 Mustang.   

“Fuck, I won’t ever get used to that.” He shuddered once you were inside, the heat blaring from his dash. 

“Isn’t it cold in England?” You giggled. 

“I don’t remember it being this bloody cold.”  

“Bloody cold,” you repeated in a faux English accent. 

He shook his head as he laughed, “Wow you’re so posh.”  

“Am I?” 

He turned the gear to pull out of his spot before chuckling with a pained wince, “Oh yeah.” He was quiet for a beat before softly adding, “It’s cute though.”  

And the butterflies ensued.    

“Thanks,” you blushed as you watched the street lights dance across his hood.  You both were quiet for the majority of the ride, stealing glances when you thought the other wasn’t paying attention. You didn’t know that neither of you were never not paying attention to the other.  

“This is a cool car,” you spoke up after a while.  

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I got it a couple months ago. Finally saved up enough.”   “That’s amazing, congrats.”  

He smiled at you before bringing his eyes back to the road. “So, what made you wanna get the job?”  

You thought about it for a moment, contemplating all the reasons you had and deciding what you wanted to share. “I thought it would be good to get my foot out there a bit. I’ve only babysat before.”  

“No I mean, what made you choose the retirement home specifically? Could have gone to McDonalds... think they pay more,” he chuckled.  

“Oh,” you laughed nervously. “Um, I don’t know.” You paused before deciding to continue. “I like the thought of helping people. Maybe being the reason someone might smile. I thought there would be some people there that… maybe didn’t have families nearby and I could be someone they looked forward to seeing.”  

You surprised yourself with how honest your answer was, blushing immediately. 

“I think that’s really cool,” he spoke earnestly. “Are you going to school for something like that? Helping people, I mean.”  

“Oh I don’t know. I don’t really know what I wanna do yet.”  You shook your head as you spoke, not having a clue what you really wanted to do career-wise.  

“Sounds like helping people might be something you should consider. If you feel strongly about it.”  His voice was soft and encouraging.  You could feel his eyes flicking over to you and you were thankful for the darkness that provided a shield to your blushing cheeks.  

“Maybe,” you hummed. “What about you?”  

“I’m going for photography.  Hope I can like, own my own company some day.” 

“That’s really cool,” you nodded. “Do you have a favorite kind or anything?”  

“People for sure, especially people in love.” He spoke surely as he eased the car to stop at a red light before looking over at you. “Like, I’d love to do engagement shoots or just, anything with couples. I like showing people in love through my lense.”  

You smiled at his answer and how open he was. “Sounds like something you’re good at.”  

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, just, judging by how you speak of it. When people are passionate about something, it shows.” 

He nodded at your words as he held your eyes.  He didn’t add anything or deny what you were saying. He simply looked at you, with that twinkle in his eye and the smallest tug of a smile on his lips. You couldn’t look away from him, his eyes pulling you in and holding you there. You liked to think it was against your will but in reality, you would have sat there in his car and looked at him for as long as he would have let you.  

The car behind you on the other hand, not so much. Judging by their obnoxious horn at least.  

You both startled, pulled from the moment as you noticed the green light. You looked back over to Harry to catch him looking in his rearview mirror with a crease to his brow before he pulled into the intersection to turn down your street.  

It was achingly quiet as he paused at the three stop signs before pulling in front of your house.  

You unclicked your seatbelt as you spoke. “Well, thanks for the ride.” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He paused, seemingly considering what he wanted to say. “It was… nice... talking to you.” His voice lowered minutely in what you could only assume was shyness.  

You smiled as your heart fluttered in your chest. “It was nice talking to you too. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”  

He nodded.  “Yup, you’ve got me for the week.”  

“Great. Thanks again.” 

“Anytime,” he smiled.  

You returned the smile before climbing out of his car. You quickly walked to your front door, noticing that he didn’t pull away from your house as you fished out your key from your bag and unlocked your door.  

When you looked back, you could see the street lamp shining into his windshield, giving you just enough light to see him looking back at you.  

You gave him a small wave before closing your door, leaning your back against it as your heart banged in your chest.    

*** 

- Sunday, February 24, 2018 -   

You dropped your duffle bag dramatically as soon as you entered the suite.  Twelve hours of traveling sounded just as awful as it felt.  

Articles of clothing fell from you as you made your way further into the room. Cardigan, sneakers, leggings -- all stripped off and thrown haphazardly. It was warm, a stark change from the still freezing temps back home in New York. Your oversized t-shirt hung down to your thighs, opting for comfort over anything else for your day of traveling.  

It was late; the only light being a tall standing lamp tucked away in the corner of the room. It was so quiet you could hear the ocean. A slow, calming peace fell over you as your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. 

The sliding glass door at the back of the suite was open, a slight breeze coming through the sheer white curtains that hung from the ceiling. A king sized bed was off to the right, tall posts with more sheer drapes hanging from the corners. The pillows looked gigantic and the deep navy duvet looked soft and smooth, even from where you were standing.  

You peeked into the ensuite, a bathroom unnecessarily large with a jetted soaker tub and rainfall shower stall, double sinks and two oversized mirrors.  There was a stash of candles organized on the counter with stemmed roses delicately placed on either end, a box of matches sitting on one of the candle’s lids.  

You stretched your arms up over your head as you heard a click of the key card lock opening, the heavy door of your room swinging open.  

Turning in the bathroom doorway, you saw your suitcase roll in first with a frowning Harry close behind. “That should not have been that difficult,” he spoke as he entered the room, letting the door fall closed behind him. “How did they only have you on the reservation? We have the same name for fuck’s sake.”   

You smiled as you leaned against the door frame, taking in his frustrated state.  

“Yeah we do.” Your tone was suggestive; an attempt to bring him back to the moment, to the real reason why you were even there to begin with.  

It caught his attention, his head snapping in your direction as his eyes took you in. You’d never tire of that. The way he looked at you, like he was trying to peer into your soul and see all the ways he was etched into it. Sometimes, you felt like he could see right through you. Like you were a wide open plain for him to settle his home on and live happily ever after.  

He didn’t move at first, standing perfectly still next to your too heavy, over packed suitcase as his eyes raked over your t-shirt clad body. The left side of his mouth lifted the tiniest bit for the smirk to start to form before he moved toward you. He reached for you once he was close enough, arms slithering around your waist to pull you in. His hands rested perfectly in the curve of your back, his front flush to yours as he looked down at you.  

“We do, Mrs. Styles.”  

His voice was lower both in volume and tone. The words rolled off his tongue as if he had been saying them for decades when in reality it had only been 22 hours.  

He pulled you with him as he took a step back, effectively moving you out of the doorway in favor of walking you back into the wall beside it. He completely invaded your senses. Warm breath cascading across your lips, cologne that had no business even still being on his skin infiltrating your head. 

You smiled slightly just before he pressed his mouth to yours. His lips were soft, yet still tugged your own into his waiting mouth. His tongue teased along your bottom lip in the smoothest way, warmth spreading to the pit of your stomach instantly. His warm tongue eased into your mouth, tasting you slowly before sucking your top lip.  

He pinned your foreheads together, his breath mingling with yours. “Are you tired?”  

You shook your head against his in response as your fingers dug into the pudge of his hips.     

“Good.” He barely got the word out before his mouth was back on yours; heavy and hot.    

One of his hands gripped the side of your neck as he pressed himself even closer to you, pinning you to the wall harshly. His hips pushed into yours, his cock already fattening up in his pants. You whimpered against his insistent mouth, his fingers threading into your hair as his other hand gripped your hip tighter.

“I want you so bad,” he moaned before kissing you again. 

His eager mouth traveled down your jaw and neck, sponging wet kisses to your tingling skin.  You reached up to thread your fingers through his hair, clasping tightly at the roots to elicit a small moan from the back of his throat.  His hips pressed into yours with such a minute roll that you nearly missed it. One of your hands traveled down the crease in the center of his back, the heat of him burning through his thin t-shirt. You squeezed one of his cheeks in the same moment that he bit into the skin of your collar bone, heat spreading throughout your body faster than ever, making your head cloudy and your eyelids heavy.  

“Please, H.” Your whine was breathy and exhaled up to the ceiling as he traveled back up to your mouth.  

He hovered his lips over yours for a moment, catching his breath as he pushed his hard length against you more. There was no denying just how hard he was. The way he begged for you, every move he made making it known.  

“You still want to?” His words were low and spoken directly into your mouth. 

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, noses brushing softly before he pulled back half an inch. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Do you?”  

“So bad,” he whispered before kissing you again, his mouth slow and full. “Wanna give you a baby.”  

You moaned at his words as your hips involuntarily tipped towards his more.     He shifted his weight towards your side, his front still pressed as closely to you as he could get, his cock brushing against your hip. His hand released the grip it had on the back of your hair to journey down your neck, the center of your chest and across your hip before settling on the lowest part of your tummy.  

“I want your belly,” he spoke into the skin of your jaw as his hand splayed across the expanse of your stomach.  

You knew exactly what he meant; always wanting to be as deep inside you as possible. But he also wanted your belly in the way he never had before. With half of him forming with half of you to produce something so beautiful it would make you ache if you thought about it too much.  

But when you let yourself think about it -- really imagine it -- you knew. You wanted it with him, more than anything.  

His hand moved down and into your underwear, his palm cupping your heat as he kissed your shoulder.  You turned your face towards his in search of any piece of skin to get your lips on, settling on pressing a soft kiss to his temple. He lifted his head with an inhale, pressing his lips to yours once more. He kissed you slowly, savoring your mouth and the taste of your tongue.  His fingers teased between your folds so softly it almost tickled. Your core ached and spasmed every time he got closer to where you needed him. Until he finally gave up the teasing and circled his middle finger over your clit.  

You moaned at the contact, breaking your kiss as he sucked your bottom lip.  “Gonna make you come so hard,” he murmured as he added his first finger with his middle to glide over your swollen sex.  “Heard it helps,” he murmured with a small smile.  

“Oh yeah?” You cut yourself off with a moan as he eased his two middle fingers into you. You laughed softly as your head tilted back against the wall with a thud. “Where’d you hear that?” 

“I have sources,” he spoke lowly into hinge of your jaw before closing a sucking kiss to the spot below it. 

Under any other circumstances, you would have encouraged him to share the so-called sources he had, but your mind was fuzzy and his fingers pumped into you at the slowest, most enticing way that you couldn’t ask if you tried.   

He pumped his fingers at an even pace before introducing his thumb to the top of your clit. You reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, one hand pushing up into the back of his hair as the other gripped the shoulder of his t-shirt. He kissed you as he fucked you with his fingers, sucking your lips even when you were too overwhelmed to kiss him back. His teeth were sharp when they tugged, pulling kiss after kiss from your swollen mouth. 

His arms slithered around your waist suddenly, tugging you closer into him before he started walking. He kissed you as you walked blindly towards the bed, his arms tightly holding you to him. His palms spread across the expanse of your back as he guided you with his mouth on yours. You both laughed into the kiss when he stepped on one of your feet, making you stumble off balance and grip each other tighter. 

He cupped your face gently when the duvet brushed the sides of your legs, slipping his tongue over yours briefly. 

“Feel a little overdressed,” he murmured against your mouth, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. 

He barked a hard laugh up to the ceiling when you yanked his sweatpants down dramatically.  You pressed a soft kiss to his upturned chin as you pushed his t-shirt up his sides, your fingers dancing along his skin until he lifted his arms so you could pull it over his head.  

He was smiling when he tilted his head back down to look at you. His hair was sticking up messily and the skin around his eyes was indented beautifully. He licked his lips, his expression changing from silly to serious. He pulsed his fingers on the back of your neck as his eyes flicked over your face.  

“I love you so much,” he whispered.  

You smiled softly, “I love you too, baby.” 

“I want this so badly,” he pulled you in to close the small gap between you.

“I know. Me too,” you stroked the backs of your fingers across his soft cheek, smoothing your hand over the hair around his ear. You leaned closer, brushing your lips over his so lightly it tickled. “Give me a baby.” 

He moved quickly, turning to lay you out on the bed. He hovered over you as his restless mouth pressed desperate kisses to your lips. His moan was low as he let his weight encase you, his hips rolling over yours. His hands traveled down your sides, gripping to your hips momentarily before pushing back up the length of your body. His fingers caught the bottom of your shirt on their way, pushing the material up your skin as his mouth moved down your neck. Your moan was breathy when he took your pebbled nipple into his mouth, sucking fervently as his hand squeezed your other breast. 

You gripped your t-shirt from where it was bunched beneath your chin to pull it off, extending your arms above your head to grip to the duvet once you threw the shirt to the floor. Harry’s hands were commanding as they pushed your breasts together, his mouth moving from one to the other. He sucked small marks into your skin that made your hips tilt up to his more and more each time. 

He met every soft roll of your hips with his own, the lace between your thighs doing nothing to conceal how wet you were.  

“You smell good,” he hummed into your ribs, placing sucking kissed to your skin as he traveled down your body. 

“Don’t know how,” you twitched when he bit your hip. “Especially after that last plane ride.”   

He looked up at you with a deep crease between his brows, making you chuckle and push one of your hands through his hair. “Said we’d never speak of that again,” he dramatically reminded you of the conversation you had once you got off the “plane ride from hell” as he liked to call it.  

“Right, sorry,” you laughed before egging him on. “Continue.”

He bit into the top of your thigh in retaliation before kissing over the spot. “As I was saying...” he placed another kiss to the bottom of your belly, right above your mound, “It’s what you always smell like. Sweet... and warm,” he murmured the last part into your mound, making you moan softly.  

He tucked his fingers into the sides of your underwear and pulled them down your thighs, his fingernails gliding down your skin the entire way. Heat licked up your spine when his hot breath met your core, tingling over your clit teasingly.  

“Harry, please…” 

“Just one taste, love.” You could feel his words just as much as you heard them. His nose brushed over your mound as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. “One taste and then I’ll fuck you, okay?”  

He didn’t wait for a response, and you knew it wouldn’t just be a taste.  

His tongue licked over your clit so softly it had your eyes rolling closed and your hips flexing off the bed. His arms slid under your thighs as he rested on his stomach, his hands gripping tightly to your hips to hold you in place. When he licked you fully and his warm tongue glided from your entrance up to your clit, you couldn’t control your hips from bucking into his mouth. One of his hands splayed out over your tummy, pinning you in place as his tongue flicked over you. 

Your hands found their way into his hair, gripping harshly as you moaned for him. You knew his fingertips were leaving indents in your skin; that’s how tight he was holding you. When his tongue dipped inside you, his thick moan vibrated against your sensitive core, making your head snap back as you choked on your own moan.  

He knew exactly what to do to get you there, but every time you were close, he switched tactics. He brought you to the edge without letting you fall so many times that you were on the verge of tears. He’d get you right there, and then pull away to press burning hot kisses to your inner thigh, or crease of your thigh, or hip, or mound. It was torture.  

“Harry,” you moaned pathetically.  

“Can’t yet, love.” He pressed another kiss into your plush inner thigh. “Said I wanna make you come hard, so gotta wait a little longer.”   

You whined at his words, your stomach tingling as he kissed his way back up your body. He brushed your hair back once his face was hovering over yours before cupping your jaw. He kissed you slow, pressing his body down into yours as you tasted yourself on his tongue.  

“Pull me out,” he murmured softly.  

You pushed his boxers down as far as you could and immediately took his length in your hand. You watched his face contort in pleasure as his breath caught in his throat when you pumped him, his resolve crumbing quickly.   

He swallowed thickly.  “Feel how hard you make me?” 

You glided your thumb over his tip, his mouth falling open instantly. “Fuck me.” 

You sucked his plush bottom lip. “Fill me, Harry.”  

“Oh my god,” he moaned as he kicked his boxers off his legs.  

He took hold of himself to brush his tip over your clit repeatedly. Your core spasmed in anticipation. And when he finally eased into you, it was so slow that every inch of his length consumed you.  

He was still once he bottomed out, and your mouth hung open in a silent moan. No matter how many times you’d been with him over the years, his size still somehow surprised you. 

His lips were soft on yours, sucking lightly until you kissed him back. 

“This what you wanted?” He flexed his hips forward, effectively giving you that last half an inch that almost made it too much. “This full enough for you?” 

“Yes,” you moaned as you tried to keep your eyelids from fluttering closed.  

He withdrew slowly and eased back in with a little more power. He found his rhythm quickly, rolling his hips into yours as he attempted to kiss you. His moans were deep, escaping his lips against his will as he fucked into you. His hands were everywhere, traveling over your body and gripping to every plush piece of flesh he could find.  

Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, scraping down his back as you pulsed around him. His pelvis teased your clit, grazing the very tip every so often to spread the heat in the pit of your stomach throughout your limbs. Your fingers tingled with it, your core begging him to stay every time he pulled out.   He kissed you fully, his tongue tracing yours as his pace picked up.  “Fuck. It’s so good. You feel… so good.”

“Don’t stop,” you moaned.  

His hand pushed into the back of your hair; fingers tangling harshly as he tugged on your roots to snap your head back. His mouth was hot on your neck, his hips lethal as they sent blow after blow into yours.  

You trailed your hands up his clammy back, gripping his thick hair between your fingers. He moaned roughly when you squeezed your fingers, fisting his hair tightly. He pulled your face to his, meeting your mouth immediately as his strokes became sloppy.  

“You’re gonna make me come,” you murmured into his waiting mouth. Heat licked up your spine as your orgasm bubbled in the pit of your stomach.   He pinned his forehead to yours heavily. “Come on, come on.”  

The hand that wasn’t gripping your hair found its way between you so his fingers could stroke over your clit. His hips kept pace as he flicked his first two fingers until you were moaning roughly with every pump.  

“Fuck, oh my god.”  

“Yes, yes, yes.” His quiet chants accentuated every thrust until you were spasming around him and cursing through your orgasm. Your head rolled back further into the duvet as he fucked you through it, his own moans increasing at the feel.  

You were still on your high when you lifted your head to kiss him. He pushed into you so roughly that it made you pull back to watch his face. He kept his eyes on yours until the last second.  Until his mouth fell open and he stilled deep inside you. 

You watched him blink quickly before letting go. You could feel his cock spasm as rope after rope of cum filled you, and his face dropped to your neck with a moan. He collapsed onto you immediately, breathing harshly into your skin as he twitched in the aftermath.  

You stroked your nails along his back as you sunk further into the bed with him. Your eyelids heavy as sleep threatened to take you.

“Think that was it?” He mumbled into your neck after a while. 

You laughed softly, arching your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Probably not, baby. May take a few times.”  

You smiled when he moaned and pressed a kiss to your jaw. “That’s alright. Got lots of time,” he spoke into your skin.  

He curled up behind you like he always did, pulling you closer with his arm wrapped around your waist and his face tucked into the back of your neck. You hummed contently, ready to start this journey with the love of your life. 

Blissfully unaware that time, would not be your ally. 

***

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please reblog it :)  And I would LOVE to hear your thoughts! 

- PART TWO - 

[wordpress-blaze-15182341]

Missiles and Meal Service: The Hidden Toll of Flying in War-zones

Common occupational hazards in aviation; the not so new flight deck stressors would encompass turbulence, delayed pushbacks, and that one passanger having an issue with someone reclining their seat (this is so very common, believe me). Let’s not forget another one who thinks the seatbelt sign doesn’t apply to them while on active runway (because they are just itching for a snack they left inside their carry-on luggage in the overhead bin. Opens bin, then bag falls off on them and everyone around. SMH)

Back to business. Pilots and cabin crew flying over the Middle East lately, especially in and out of Qatar, well, there’s a new, less subtle source of anxiety: missile attacks. Who doesn’t know the news by now?

Yes, flying into Doha these days might involve dodging airspace closures, U.S. airbase targets, and the occasional Iranian and Israeli news. Glamorous, right?

Very.

While passengers worry about delayed in-flight meals and Wi-Fi speeds being too slow or disconnecting , the crew up front and in the aisles are dealing with something much much heavier: the psychological toll of flying through a region where geopolitics are very unpredictable, stormy, and always just over the horizon.

What Happened in Qatar Exactly, you ask?

In resent years, we’ve witnessed sensitive airspaces and in response, airlines have shut down their airspaces. Flights being rerouted faster than a teenager dodging chores have become commonplace, and airline dispatchers around the world had one collective panic attack.

Now just imagine this. Inflight, flight crew are prepping beverage carts while air defence systems light up the radar. Boom-Chaka-Boom! Just another day in the skies.

Cabin Pressure: Flying with a Side of Adrenaline

Yes, crew (deck crew and cabin crew) are trained to handle demarcates, but war is not an average Emmergency! It’s one thing to worry about fuel efficiency. It’s another to fly over a region where missiles are a real-time hazard.

There is a huge difference between trusting an aircraft, the team, and trusting geopolitics.

Constant anticipatory anxiety.

Hypervigilance, even on layovers.

The unsettling knowledge that their aircraft might share airspace with defense drones, military jets, and… well, more missiles.

Hospitality Meets Hostility

Cabin crew, as you know, are the face of calm, smile and all. Even so, smiling while you serve fish, beef and a gluten free meal on a flight skimming a conflict zone? That’s dark art right there.

Results:

Crew becoming emotionally disconnected from their jobs.

Guilt when evacuating people while others are left behind. 2020 clears throat!

Luxury inflight service inside a pressure cooker floating mid air at 40,000 feet while those on ground are ducking. Definately dystopian!

More Fuel, More Detours, More Fatigue

Yep! Practical stress:

Flights being rerouted to avoid hot zones, adding hours to duty time.

Longer flight hours mean more fatigue, which affects both performance and emotional bandwidth.

There’s no glamour-AT ALL in a 15 hour turnaround because there is no clearance to land.

What Airlines Are Maybe doing

Critical Incident Stress Management teams.

Therapy appointments.

Pre and post dispatch briefings.

Even so, lots of crews feel out of the loop. Why you ask?Because, you get the news that you’re flying a risky zone when you’re already on it.

Hidden Costs: Forget Fuel and Insurance

Mental Health RiskWhat It Looks LikePTSD or traumaFlashbacks, fawning, sleep interruptions, avoidanceBurnoutEmotional numbness, lack of purposeAnxietyReccuring worry, overanalysing proceduresIsolationFeeling detached and lack of support on layovers or at home

These risks don’t show up on a flight log, but hey, they impact safety, morale, and retention. We talk about maintaining aircraft fatigue limits. What about crew fatigue limits?

Where Do We Go From Here?

How about a Flight Plan for Mental Health in Conflict Zones:

Transparent Security Briefings.

Weight & balance before takeoff is paramount, so is mental health balance.

Flight Debriefs After High-Stress Flights.

Better Global Oversight, meaning ICAO, IATA and other relevant bodies must update protocols for mental wellness involving high-risk routes.

Bottom line, pilots and cabin crew are indeed professionals for they train, adapt, and make sure to get the job done. But, they are people too and not robots. People who fly into the world’s most dangerous zones with nothing more than a safety manual and nerves of steel.

We owe them patience, understanding, protection and genuine support as they navigate war zones with grit and grace.

Fly safe. Check on your crew friends, and just maybe skip the missile jokes during boarding.

Source: Missiles and Meal Service: The Hidden Toll of Flying in War-zones

[valhallanrose]

Seven Devils

Astoria’s Cursebreaker arc picks up about five years after the events of Show Your Fangs, which you can find here along with the rest of their canon backstory. 

Major thank you to @apprenticealec​ for letting me borrow some of her pirates for the next few installments of Astoria’s journey. Sorry to Rodrigo (and especially Jacqui) for getting Astoria inflicted upon them in the process. 

Fic Title: Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine

2.1k. No CWs apply. 

It was supposed to be like any other transport. 

The sea and the sky were near perfect mirrors, as if the Fae’s Folly sailed on an ocean of stars that carried them toward the Sea Palace. It was a long journey, but one that its crew had made many times before, through the Frozen Sea and up into the Persephia when the Scourgelands were too perilous to cross by land. It was the preferred route to reach the western side of the continent, rather than risk the Strait of Sirens to the north, and they’d faced minimal skirmish on prior trips.

But the Folly was under contract, and a demanding one at that, meaning some had let their guard slip when the rare chance came to rest. 

It would be too late when they heard the pounding of drums over the sea, rousing the crew from slumber and drawing them out on the deck to investigate, then sending it into chaos as they tried to open the sails and escape the ship in their shadow. 

And then El Corazon Sangrante split the night with cannon fire. 

*     *     *     *     *

The Fae’s Folly wasn’t equipped for conflict, and surrender came quickly - about when the captain realized the winds would give them enough momentum to keep moving, but not necessarily to get out of range. So he chose, rather than risk the lives of his crew, to wave the metaphorical white flag. He’d been instructed by the harbormaster to preserve the vessel at all costs - the goods could be replaced, or at the very least they could recoup the losses, but a damaged ship was far more painful for a trading port’s business in the grand scheme. 

The captain had watched with tongue between his teeth as pirates boarded his ship, some remaining above deck to watch his crew while the others scattered across the ship to raid its cargo hold. One, a tall man with dark skin and equally dark hair, had asked him where his manifests were - information which he’d given, begrudgingly, when he eyed the hand settled on the pistol holstered at his hip. 

Another would board after a few moments - wearing, of all things, a spotted fur coat - at around the same time the previous man emerged from the captain’s quarters, flipping through sheafs of paper with maps tucked under his arm. 

“Jacqui, could this have been more underwhelming?” He almost pouted as he fluffed the collar of his coat, lifting a hand to keep his hat firmly planted on his head. 

“You’re the one who saw a ‘big ship’ and insisted that we see if it ‘had anything good’, Rodrigo.” The man, presumably Jacqui, made air quotes as he read without so much as looking up. “Which, no, it seems you picked a common cargo ship. No matter. Never hurts to resupply -”

He paused mid sentence, eyes fixed on a line on the manifest long enough to make the fur-coated man step closer and find what had caught his attention. 

- Personal gift from Baroness Canonach of Kintyre to Lady Chiara D’Oria.

Jacqui’s pistol came free of its holster as he strode across the deck, tucking the weapon beneath the captain of the Folly’s chin and giving him a stormy look. 

“Tell me something.” He said quietly, gold eyes dark as Rodrigo’s hand fell to rest neatly on the hilt of his blade beneath that fur coat. “What exactly are you delivering to the D’Orias?”

*     *     *     *     *

The sun beamed across Astoria’s face where they stood at Cliffs of Balgaire, wild breeze ruffling the hem of their coat around their knees and carrying the smell of salt up from where they lashed at the base of the cliffs far below. One leather-clad hand pushed their bangs back while the other held the pages of the letter firmly in hand, eyes flickering over the ink as time ticked by.

Sachairi Canonach, the cousin closest to them in age and next in line for the barony of Kintyre after Astoria themself, had called them back to Rosinmoor. After a long-winded bout of pleasantries, he’d asked them to come when their project in the Bulan mountains had ended for the season, and that they assist him in a personal favor. 

They agreed - on the condition they met near Mistwatch, for returning to the family estate meant dealing with their mother, and they wanted absolutely nothing to do with her for the time being.

So with the shadow of the ruined Canonach castle at their back, Astoria turned their face to the sun, closing their eyes to let the warmth seep into their skin. There were a few long, peaceful moments, where all they could hear was the roar of the sea and the call of the birds before a voice drew their focus back to the rest of the world.

“You know, I’m just glad we didn’t plan to meet in the castle. I know you agreed to meet me here, but this place has always given me the heebie jeebies. I’ll never understand why you loved it so much when we were kids.”

Astoria turned, smile lifting the corners of their lips as they stepped forward to meet his embrace halfway. 

“You’d hate me if I gave you the history lesson.” They teased, burying their face in the tartan draped across his shoulder and chuckling as he thumped them on the back a few times. 

“I probably would.” Sachairi leaned back, giving them a broad smile as his hands fell on their shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “You look well. How was the trip back? I’m assuming you took the Emerald Sea into the Strait of Seals, and then into Rosafearn?”

“Yeah, it’s probably the quickest route. Especially when my travel is funded by the clan, who apparently made it very clear to the quartermaster and the captain that the ‘heir to Kintyre was going to need efficient travel south’.” 

They gave him a displeased look, and Sachairi at least had the decency to look sheepish when they folded their arms across their chest. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted to stay up north or come here and skelp you myself for pulling that. You know I hate it when people throw their titles and names around to get their way, why would you make me out to be a hypocrite by doing the same?”

Sachairi’s hands lifted in a gesture of surrender as Astoria huffed, shoving their hands in their pockets and giving him something of a glowering look. 

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, Astoria - but I promise you I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it was necessary. I need your help with something a little time critical, but I couldn’t risk the letter getting intercepted on the way.”

“Well, start talking. Your personal favor is on thin ice for now.”

Wordlessly, Sachairi offered his arm, and Astoria tucked their hand neatly into the crook of his elbow before they began to walk the overgrown path that circled the walls of Mistwatch. They waited patiently for him to gather his words as they walked, the wind sweeping the hair away from both of their faces as he heaved a sigh. 

“A few weeks ago, the baroness ordered a small shipment of jewels and ore be sent to the Sea Palace - supposedly a sampling to attract business from the D’Oria family, but I digress. It left aboard the Fae’s Folly with a full load of cargo, the rest of the shipment made up of the standard goods, but when the Folly returned to port, the captain informed us the ship had been raided by pirates out in the Sea of Persephia.”

“And you don’t believe that.” 

“It’s not that I don’t believe it - the Folly’s been surveyed and definitely sustained an attack, but I’m not confident that it was a simple raid. The only things missing from the manifests were basic supplies any sailor would use, some regional maps of the Frozen Sea and the western Scourgelands, and the jewels. From what little knowledge of the family I have, I trust the D’Orias as far as I can throw them.”

Astoria let out a small snort at that, the sound swallowed by the wind as they tucked a few pieces of hair behind their ears. “If they’re friends of my mother, I’d be inclined to agree. So what’s my role in this, Sachairi?”

He slowed to a stop, turning to face Astoria with something of a serious expression on his face. His hands fell to rest on their shoulders, giving them a squeeze as he held their gaze, not even moving to brush curly hair out of his eyes when the wind blew them out of place.

“I want you to find out if the raiders were working on behalf of the D’Orias. Of all our family, I trust you most to both keep this off Senga’s radar for now, and to keep yourself safe in the process. If the jewels were stolen by true pirates, they can keep them, we have enough at our disposal to manage trade without them and I don’t want you in more danger than you have to be. But if they were stolen by the D’Orias or on their behalf, I want you to gather whatever evidence you can to prove it so that we can nip this relationship in the bud. The baroness won’t believe it unless I can put it on the table in front of her, so I don’t want to level any accusations without knowing exactly what I’m walking into.”

Astoria heaved a long breath, mulling over the proposition for a little while as they tugged on the beaded chain on their glasses. 

“You do realize that this is wildly out of my skill set.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s just within it.” Sachairi chuckled, reaching forward to push their glasses back up their nose. “Have you not made a life for yourself in the pursuit of knowledge and answers? Perhaps not in this manner, but I have faith that you’ll find a way to make it work. You’ve always been the most stubborn of all of us.”

They scoffed, folding their arms across their chest and giving him a sour look, but he only smiled and took a step back to give them space. A few moments of rustling in his satchel eventually turned up a neatly folded stack of papers, bound together with ribbon and stamped with the green wax crest of the Canonachs. Sachairi held it out, brow raised and trying to maintain a stoic face, but they could see the way his lips threatened to lift at the corners in a sort of knowing smile. 

“...fine. Fine, I’ll do it, but you owe me. And you have to answer to Myrna if I get hurt during this shit, because she’s not getting my hide for it.” They snatched the papers out of his hand, smacking him lightly on the wrist with them before popping the seal. Idly they flicked through them, brows pulling together as they read through the documents in hand. 

“You’ve already booked my passage? What would you have done if I refused?”

“Never crossed my mind.” The younger Canonach turned, beginning to pick his way down the path that would lead him eventually back to where he left his horse. “I can always take the hit from the cost if you decide not to go, we both know that the clan has more gold in its coffers than we could spend in all our lifetimes combined. But you’ve never been one to turn down the chance for something new, have you?”

They stood there for a long, long moment, eyes fixed on the point where he eventually disappeared over the hill and travel papers clasped tightly in hand. 

He wasn’t wrong, there. They’d spent the nearly five years since they’d been home traveling the world, only staying in one place for a few weeks at a time and diving straight into archaeological work that buried them up to their waist in busy work, but something like this? They couldn’t remember the last time the idea of a journey had inspired such a thrill in them, even if they didn’t want to admit it. 

They still loved their job, they had no doubts about that. It was monotonous sometimes, day in and day out in burial mounds and crypts or seemingly endless hikes to the middle of nowhere, but...was that really all they wanted from life? Was that really all they wanted to do, after fighting for some sense of freedom for so long?

With a sigh, they shoved the papers into the pocket inside their coat, turning to look back out over the broad blue sea to where it met the sky on the horizon. 

They supposed they’d just have to find out.