#I feel I have a certain level to maintain after Letters

[distinctlywhumpthing]

In League — Dead Ringer, part I

Masterlist

Summary: August's first day with the new holder of his indenture —his new master— is not a resounding success. (Takes place two years before August meets Wyatt.) Beta-read by @alittlewhump!

CW: Late-19th century, explicit language, indentured servitude, classism, dehumanization/degradation, intimate/creepy whumper, burn.

A beam of sunlight slanted through the break in the curtains to fall squarely across his eyes. He tried not to squint to see his new employer or, rather, the new holder of his indenture. Why the drapes were drawn in the middle of the day was beyond him. Unless the intention was to make the study feel suffocating and shadowed. 

“Say that one more time.” 

August recognised the dare within the order. He swallowed, heart hammering in his chest in spite of himself. “I’m sorry, master. I don’t have it.” 

Master Keats hummed in mock sympathy. “And after all that rigamarole about your capabilities.” His silhouette plucked a cigar from the shadow of a desktop and took a few puffs until smoke further enshrouded his face. “How utterly useless literacy is when unaccompanied by intelligence. As is typical for servants.” 

“Please, sir,” he struggled to keep his voice level, frustration crashing through him in waves. “I only—

“I trust they disciplined mistakes at Elmwood?”

He clenched his teeth. “Yessir.” August couldn’t be certain if his master was watching him or simply sitting there smoking. His first day was getting worse by the second. From the ill-fitting uniform to his ill-fated first errand, he wasn’t sure if he’d have an ass left to land on by the time he was thrown out on it. 

By the time Master Keats rose out of his chair, August’s palms had really begun to sweat. He didn’t risk even a flutter of his fingers at his sides as he stood at attention. Keats sauntered around the desk, low-hanging smoke cloud trailing with him. When he reached the other side, a few paces in front of August, he leaned back against it, crossing his ankles and straightening his waistcoat. “What was it then?”

“Bed without supper, sir.”

“And for something such as this? For losing a priceless family heirloom worth more than your life twice over?” August wondered what was on the other end of the pocket watch chain crossing his master’s waist if it wasn’t the item in question. 

He cleared his throat. “Probably the cane, sir.” 

Master Keats twisted around to ash his cigar. “Probably? Are you implying that your service record was so clean? Or were you shown favour by that knotty old butler?” 

“The former, sir.” The latter was also true though he did not wish to give Keats any further ammunition.

“Well, unfortunately, it seems your luck hasn’t followed you here.” August could hear the amusement in the statement though he still couldn’t read the accompanying expression. The light shone in from just above Keats’ head, casting his face entirely in shadow behind the looming cloud of smoke.

He swallowed his defense. His shame and frustration were rising to a steady boil. It wasn’t exactly his fault that the watchmaker had apparently surrendered the watch to someone else claiming to represent Keats. August had only been a quarter an hour late anyway, despite following the written directions to the letter. It wasn’t like he’d lost the watch personally. In fact, August’s questioning had been surprisingly short-lived. Though perhaps someone was already going to corroborate his story with the jeweler to make sure he hadn’t indeed picked up the watch and simply stashed it for later. 

“I won’t pretend this isn’t a disappointment,” Keats said, finally stepping forward enough so that he blocked the light.

Not much of a relief for August’s clarity of sight. He couldn’t see jack all in the shade after staring into the sun. He blinked quickly, trying to get his eyes to adjust faster.

Keats took another step forward, close enough that August had to keep himself from taking a step back to maintain civilized personal space. His master reeked of the cigar, earthy and sweet, and his spicy cologne, all overlaying the smell of sweat. August took advantage of the closeness for the chance to curl his fingers into fists. This was all a game, meant to shame and intimidate him, and he’d be damned if he’d rise to the bait.

His master reached out to straighten August’s bowtie, thumbing the fabric. “You seemed so promising…”

“Sir, please. I do beg your pardon. It won’t happen again.” 

“Well, now—” Keats hooked his forefinger over August’s bowtie, not pulling him anywhere but letting August feel the weight of his hand on the fabric circling his neck. “How do you suggest we make certain of it.” 

It went against his every instinct not to twist away. “Sir?”

“I could have them give you the cane.” 

August swallowed, his Adam’s apple running into Keats’ knuckle. “You’ll know best, sir.” 

“I should fucking think so.” Keats eyes raked over his face. They were beady and dark and August already despised having them on him. He hadn’t been naive enough to hold out hope that his new master might be some shade of kind but he had tried to be optimistic. Clearly, even that had been a folly. “Growing up in the workhouse, I’m sure you know how to take it well.” 

His fists trembled at his sides. More from anger than fear, he told himself. “Yessir.”

Keats held him a moment longer before releasing him with a little push so he had to catch himself on his back foot. “Something more novel might suit you better.”

“I—” 

“Perhaps some time to think.” August didn’t like the look of the glint in his eyes one bit. He was practically twirling his mustache, though August would have wagered it didn’t move much with so much wax in it. “I’ll think on it, you can think on it. A week in the attic ought to be sufficient, even for you.” 

August’s heart stuttered in his chest. He hadn’t been shown the whole house yet, had no idea what ‘a week in the attic’ would entail. “Sir—”

“Now, show me your gratitude for sparing you the cane by saving me having to cross the room to the ashtray.” Keats took a final pull from the cigar, enshrouding them both with its heavy smoke before holding it between them. 

“Yessir.” August reached to take it. 

He pulled the cigar back, tutting his tongue. August met his eyes and knew instantly what Keats meant to do. He hesitated, just long enough to regret giving Keats the satisfaction of asking, “Something the matter?”

“No, sir,” he said through clenched teeth, holding out his right hand. He didn’t dare try to abscond by putting forth his left.  

 Keats took another drag from the cigar so the end bloomed orange before he planted it in the centre of August’s palm. August lifted his chin a fraction, keeping his hand steady. He raised his hand in equal force to Keats bearing down on it. He wanted Keats to feel his efforts, though they didn’t stand for much. Not with tears pooling in his eyes until they spilled over, ruining the effect and bringing a smirk to his master’s face. 

His palm kept burning even after he was sure the cigar was out. Keats gave it one final twist before releasing his grasp and letting it fall into August’s hand. “Give me your thanks then.” August wanted to give him something all right but he knew he would never get that far. Keats was above him on all accounts. “Thank you ever so much, sir.”

Next

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[hschl-fanficwriter]

🐻🖤🤍Danganronpa x Diabolik Lovers🧛🏻‍♂️

ഒ   🏹 · ° ♪ ⠀⠀ֹSecond part of the blog about random talents with a new story for the little vampires.

🧈🏍️ Ultimate Biker Gang Leader- Shu Sakamaki.

- It all started on that fateful night near the creek behind the sakamaki mansion, where Shu met his first and perhaps last friend, Edgar, both used to meet in the same place to talk and when they couldn't send letters to each other telling about the hard life they had. both faced in different contexts. Without his mother knowing Shu took advantage of a certain day to run away and get to know the village where Edgar lived in order to surprise him and by the way that would be the boy's birthday, what he didn't expect was that Reiji would be following him to see where would yours have gone. Just like in the Canon version, Reiji burns down Edgar's village because through the letters he once saw written with Shu's name as the receiver, just below there was the address of the same village next to the mansion. What he didn't know was that in that fire was Shu who managed to get out of the fire with some injuries, after the fire he looked for Edgar everywhere, but he wasn't in the pile of burned corpses deducing that maybe he could have come out alive , but where would you go? He knew he couldn't return home because he would be confronted about his going out to meet human friends and knowing his mother he could receive such a punishment, so he chose to start his new life in what used to be a normal suburb.

______________________ __________________

- In one of the meetings at Lagoa, Edgar introduced his friends saying that they were part of a group of bikers and questioned whether Shu would accept to be part of it and it was in this meeting where he took the first lessons about motorcycles and this contrary world to which he was used to and it wouldn't take long for Shu to quickly learn and reach the level worthy of a leader;

- In this universe Shu is homosexual and I have a passion for Edgar, not being able to wait for the day to meet him again and enjoy the boy's kisses, so feel free to ship the boys in this world;

- Just like Yuma, Shu received a nickname from the boys who rescued him from the fire, being named "Champ", a name commonly used in German Huskies, remember the puppy that Edgar gave to Shu? There lies the inspiration behind the name;

- The jacket worn over his shoulders is the same jacket used by Edgar while he was still walking with the boys in the gang, promising himself that he would deliver it to Edgar as soon as they met again;

-Shu acts like the decided and thoughtful leader his mother designed him to be, it's rare to see him act like a slacker since most of his time is devoted to tending to the needs of his gangmates and sudden searches for Edgar;

____________________ ___________________

🍵🎰 Ultimate Gambler- Reiji Sakamaki

- Since he was very young, Reiji has always had his vision centered on gambling, he himself confesses that he never thought of turning such a specific taste into a profession. When the balls organized by his mother took place, he had been invited by Karlheinz once or twice to join him and his friends in the games they played after the party, he found the dexterity of the players' movements impressive, multiplied by the feeling of despair nourished on the faces of those who lost and soon became their father's "animals" as a way of paying off their victims. "There is nothing more pleasurable than betting your own life and seeing the nervousness of your rivals", said Karl every time Reiji joined a game and emerged victorious, he did not take this dilemma with conviction because for Reiji the greatest grace is to see your ally disintegrate little by little to deliver the final blow.

____________________ ____________________

-Reiji maintains his traditional polite and elegant posture during bets even in the worst situations, for him weakness and nervousness will be the weapons that the opponent will use to attack;

- His laboratory in the canon universe, was reused and became a gambling house frequented by the creatures of the underworld;

- His punishments are usually applied when his "animals" dare to go over his authority and in that he increases the debt value based on his actions;

-In this universe he likes to collect items commonly seen in a gambling hall like cards, chips and dices.

__________________ _______________________

🐰🔪Ultimate Child Caregiver/Assasin - Subaru Sakamaki.

- Subaru was already tired of looking at the same sad and bitter expression of a mother through the abuses that were practiced to her, he knew that at some point that horrible scenario would have to end as he was also aware that the blood would spurt between the legs of one of the characters in that story and it certainly wouldn't be him or her mother. In a choite marked by lightning and thunder, he used the key that gave access to the tower and marched towards his mother's saddle, raising the silver dagger in his right hand, he was faced with his father figure carrying out his "nocturnal visits" in his mother's room. mother and without hesitation advanced on top of the man and there a violent fight broke out between him and Karl. Subaru wasn't victorious however he was quick enough to rip his trembling mother and get out of that hellhole once and for all while Karl lay on the ground writhing in pain. Both ran between the trees while their bodies were wet from the rain, they needed a place to rest but where? In the state her mother was in, she knew they couldn't go that far, it wasn't one of the best plans, but just leaving the walls of that prison was already a relief, luckily they managed to find the remains of a hut where they spent the rest of the night rainy. The next morning being a little better, the two continued walking aimlessly until they arrived in front of the gates of a huge church, Subaru sighed deeply before pressing the bell only to be greeted by a nun who, upon noticing the state they were both in, quickly invited them in. There Crista received hospital treatment thanks to a doctor who worked there, he noticed that he was wrong to say that it was a church but a religious orphanage, Subaru explained he told what happened not in detail saying that now he was his mother against the world and that in that At the moment, they had nowhere to go. The nun said that both could stay as long as necessary to readjust their lives, until that day came, the two's stay was compensated with small jobs, Crista would help the sisters to take care of the children who quickly liked the woman nicknamed her. that of "Mother Crista", Subaru helped by taking care of the huge garden that covered the part where the children played, reminding him a little of the garden of the mansion, he also helps his mother to take care of the children that even with his intimidating executioner they continued to go to him, a detail that Subaru still can't understand".

__________________ ______________________

- Being next to his mother, we can't often see this aggressive side of Subaru except when there is a situation where he or his mother is in danger;

- Still carries the silver dagger used in the fight with Karl, being his favorite tool when carrying out his "secondary jobs";

- Ayato and Subaru get along well in this universe unlike the original, since part of subaru's combat skills were passed on by Ayato, in fact he lives with Subaru and Crista because as he was expelled from the mansion by accident he ended up homeless and how Crista saw Ayato as a mere victim of that bitch, she welcomed him without thinking twice;

- Both Subaru and Crista usually visit the orphanage whenever they can and they are always greeted by a sea of ​​hugs from the children.

[oraclekleo]

Hellooo 🌻 Kleoo my impression of your blog is it's like a library with No Kids zone sign, peaceful, mature and cozy. By mature it's not only about nsfw reading but the ambience and the way you interact with your followers 💛💛 i can talk on and on about what i like of your blog 😂 thank youu kleoooo 🫶🏻🫶🏻 as for the celeb do i need to mention, my one and only girl 🤣

Hello!

I’m really happy my blog gives such a good impression. I love libraries and I dislike kids so this is exactly how it should look like here. 😂

No, I’m glad the blog gives a mature vibe. Even people who are already older or their soul is mature should have somewhere to go on Tumblr.

Thank you so much for your kind words and your constant support. It means the world to me. 💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

Let’s get into your compatibility reading and make it as hot as possible. 😈

18+

@lovelysana + Sana (Twice) Compatibility Reading

Cards: 31 Surrendering (Sexual Magic Oracle), Mercury in Leo - Drama, Saturn in Leo - Generosity (Oracle of the Radiant Sun), XX The Judgement, King of Swords, 7 of Wands (Erotic Fantasy Tarot), 4 of Wands, III The Empress, 5 of Wands (Dark Wood Tarot)

Here we go! Right from the start I can see this compatibility to be somewhat of an explosive one. Great passions are in the game but both parties would like to maintain their autonomy. I see that you and Sana would probably feel strongly attracted to each other on a sexual and intellectual level. At the same time, it looks like none of you is willing to take the more submissive role in the relationship which might cause traction and in result epic fights ending with at least one side in tears. You might need to take breaks in your relationship when you simply don’t see each other as while the sexual tension is high in between you, the emotions might become too strong and raw to be handled when you are in each other’s company.

The cards strongly suggest an aspect of long distance communication. During these breaks, you might actually deepen your bond through some form of correspondence. It’s not necessary for you to write each other handwritten letters like the heroines in Jane Austen novels, in this day and age we have quicker and even more intimate ways. When I looked at the cards, I heard sexting in my head, which might become your favourite way to communicate when apart. Both your oracle cards are connected with the Leo sign which denotes a certain level of flirtation. Sexting and flirting through messages can be your way to better express yourself in the relationship without slipping into a quarrel.

No matter how long this relationship would last, it would be a life changing one for you and Sana alike. I see a certain aspect of apprenticeship in the cards which might mean you will learn a lot from Sana, who’s very likely signified by the Empress card in the reading. You might look up to her and really embrace the opportunity to work on yourself in the relationship. When you two are not fighting or f***ing, you are likely to empower each other a great deal. Sana is likely to share her vast knowledge of lust and pleasure with you in a form you will remember till the end of your life. You will never be the same after this relationship.

Although the cards suggest that it might not last for that long. It probably wouldn’t be your happily-ever-after one, but it would pave your path towards your soulmate.

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[hybridanafrost]

3, 13, and 20 for Jack and Lorena for the ship ask game please Camy 🥺💕? Thank you so much 🥰!

Link to the ship game ask. 👆

Lorena's bio:

3. What was their first impression of each other?

They first met at Lorena's place of employment, the butcher shop. Lorena almost knew who Jack was immediately from the robe and the amount of mana she sensed from him. She just didn't want to let on that she did. While she never spoke to a Magic Knight Captain before, she didn't want to be unprofessional or deal with someone trying to flash their status for a bigger discount. So she treated him like anyone else.

Jack got a huge kick out of that. When he first walked in, he wasn't expecting the desk to be managed by a gorgeous woman. He also wasn't expecting her to speak to him with such expertise on the subject of hunting and dressing. What threw him off was how Lorena seemed unfazed when he leaned into his reputation to intimidate her. She maintained eye contact and wouldn't budge when he let his mana radiate throughout the building. She remained unbothered in asking him for the standard rate instead of granting him a discounted one. He HAD to get to know her after that. Her good looks were one thing, but Lorena intrigued Jack on a personal level.

13. How do they keep in contact when they’re apart? Do they write letters, talk on the phone, or simply wait out the time?

Jack and Lorena are both too busy to write to each other. Plus, being sentimental in such a way is not their strong suit. They're doers and show they care through their actions and by showing up for one another.

It's hysterical imagining En using his talking mushroom spell for them to talk back and forth for a while. Jack eventually splurged on magical communication devices that he would use to call her while he was away.

They would be used sparingly because they can be detrimental while in a stealth mission. Ultimately, they'll kinda wait it out the majority of the time until he can meet her at her job or vice versa after work.

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

Jack's really good at making Lorena laugh. There's something about Jack's zaniness that she really likes. Perhaps it's because he doesn't take himself too seriously. He's the total opposite of her stoic younger brother, Ben. Jack bringing levity into situations helps lift her spirits. He also lightens the load on her whenever she feels overwhelmed with cooking and looking after the kids.

When Jack is upset, he won't try to voice his needs because he's so used to dealing with things on his own. He will seem more irritated and take time away to sulk a bit. Lorena is very good at picking up on when he's in a certain mood because of her daughter Agnes behaving in a similar fashion. She lets him have his space for a while to blow off steam and will have a homecooked meal ready for him when he comes back. When they're alone, they get into long cuddle sessions with her running her hands through his hair and down his back.

[mxrsmordre]

hey isn’t that Regulus Black? I’ve heard that the 22 year old wizard can be kind of closed-off and a walking contradiction…. but that might not be true because I also heard the Pureblood can be quite perceptive and quick-witted. One of my muggleborn friends thought they were Felix Mallard, but I have no idea who that is.

Ex Hogwarts House: Slytherin Loyalty: Death Eaters Gender identity and Pronouns: Cismale, he/him Sexuality: Bisexual

What four songs would be a must in your characters playlist?

Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven

Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex

Back to Black by Amy Winehouse

Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey

Biography I • Terms and Conditions 

If you were to ask Regulus about his life, he would section it off into two categories. Before Sirius left, and after Sirius left. The before filled with an almost embarrassing level of ignorance and naivety to how the world outside of the haunting and monstrous Grimmauld Place functioned. Regulus was raised on the beliefs that being a Black was akin to being royalty. You were automatically better, of higher status, and weld more power and influence than everyone around you. However, to retain such status there were certain conditions to abide by; a level of purity and grace that needed to be maintained.  Growing up in a house—a family—where there were endless terms and conditions, it was hard not to give into the influence, to strive for perfection and seek validation from the very people who bore you. Love and nurture also came along with provisions, an expensive and luxurious reward, and beyond backhanded praises when they showed off their dutiful second son to the public, Regulus was never able to obtain it. And sometimes that was okay, because Regulus had a brother whose love, care and devotion for him did not come from a place of self-service and was truly unconditional.

When Sirius went off to Hogwarts, there were no shadows left to hide in. As soon as word got out his brother was sorted into Gryffindor, and not Slytherin, there was a shame and embarrassment that his parents began to carry around; feelings that morphed into disgust and resentment.  To Regulus, those feelings seemed to have served as motivation to add more pressure onto his shoulders. They could not have two children breaking away from family traditions, and so the snide remarks and comments started. ‘Don’t be like your brother’, ‘when you go off to Hogwarts you better get into Slytherin’ and then came the comparisons, ‘you always were the better son’ and so forth. Their words were calculating, damaging, and influential. Regulus thought about them from the time he woke up until he fell asleep. What could he do to earn more praise and finally get the parental validation he craved? He could fall in line and truly be the ideal son that his parents wanted. So he did.

II • Marionette

Regulus became a marionette with his parents pulling the strings. He got sorted into Slytherin, he made friends with all the right people, avoiding all the wrong people, he excelled at his studies. He was the perfect son on paper, writing letters to his parents to update them on his accomplishments and anticipating the letters he would get in return. They never wrote back, and when Regulus went home for Yule, he came to the heartbreaking realization that they never read them either. Eleven-year-old Regulus spent the night in his room crying and making himself two major promises. One: he would never cry for his parents again. Two: He would try harder to be better, to be a more dutiful son, to be worthy of his parents’ love.

His obsession for validation continued beyond his first year at Hogwarts and into the following years. When his parents had first mentioned Voldemort, a dark wizard who wanted to use extreme measures to make the Wizarding World pure, there was something so enticing about it, he couldn’t help but to be intrigued.  Voldemort had the right ideas, and a lot of purebloods were beginning to take notice and become bolder as they showed their support within the pureblood community. Regulus wanted to join him one day, become a Death Eater, but he knew that he was too young at the time. In anticipation, he collected articles and created vision boards in his spare time, worked out the kinks on his weakest magical abilities. He wanted to grow stronger so that one day he could become a worthy follower of someone who had the potential to be one of the darkest and reformative wizards of all time.

And then Sirius left home.

III • The Fine Print

In the aftermath of Sirius’ abandonment (because that’s what it was, Regulus would not sugarcoat it), Regulus fell into a state of deep dysphoria. His parents, in good faith, made him watch as they burned Sirius’ from the tapestry. His mother’s sinister laugh, her dark voice telling him he no longer had a brother, drinking champagne with her husband as the smell of smoke filled the room. He no longer had a brother. The one thing Regulus always counted on, always knew deep down to his core – whether they were at odds with each other – is that he had a brother. He had Sirius, who would check under his bed for monsters when they were younger, who taught him how to ride his first broom, who would sneak into his room during thunderstorms because he knew Regulus got scared. Sirius who loved him even when he was sorted into Slytherin, even when he was disappointed by Regulus’ holier than thou attitude, even when he disapproved of Regulus’ friend group, even if they had been drifting apart ever since Hogwarts. Now suddenly he was supposed to get on with life as if his brother no longer existed.

Regulus tried to convince himself that this was what Sirius wanted, because he had to have known the consequences of turning your back on your family. He had to have known that he was willingly leaving Regulus behind; that they would no longer be brothers. Right? But maybe he didn’t know that by leaving he would be giving up Regulus too. The rest of the summer, Regulus wrote Sirius letters. They started off with him pleading for his brother to come home, but as the letters went unanswered, they turned into desperate questions about why he didn’t say goodbye or ask Regulus to come with him. Regulus explained he didn’t know leaving was an option, and if Sirius was going to go then he should’ve asked him to come too. Truthfully, Regulus didn’t know if he would’ve gone but there was a part of him that would’ve followed Sirius to the ends of the Earth.

At the end of the summer Regulus stopped writing. He had gotten no responses, and it was quite clear to him that Sirius knew what he was doing. He was leaving his blood brother behind to run into the awaiting arms of his chosen brother instead. That realization cut deep to the bone and made him both physically and violently ill. Regulus didn’t have a brother anymore, he had to focus on the remaining family that he had now. His loyalty was to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and from the day Sirius left, Regulus became the true heir.

IV • R.A.B

At the age of sixteen, Regulus joined the Death Eaters. His obsession with Voldemort had lessened, and even so the dark wizard’s overall impact, but the cause was still in full effect. His parents wanted him to take the mark, and at one point he had wanted it so desperately too; it just made sense to pledge himself to the cause. Being a sixteen year old Death Eater was different than being a seventeen year old Death Eater because that meant Regulus was finally of age; he could hang out with the big boys and girls now. Regulus was not prepared for the horrors that he would see, the attacks that he would have to partake in, the devastation and destruction that he would leave behind. Regulus once thought it would feel good to put people in their rightful place, but the methods were horrifying and senseless. And maybe Regulus just didn’t believe in the cause as much as he used to.

With his last year at Hogwarts in full swing, Regulus didn’t have to go on as many Death Eater adventures. He spent his year hiding within the safety of the castle walls, conjuring up fantasies and ideas of how he could get out of his pledge of allegiance. The only answer was death, whether it was real or faked, and he knew that would be almost impossible with a family tree that documents his family’s existence from birth until death. Instead, he would have to buy time. The dutiful son turning into the dutiful follower, a solider in a war that he no longer wanted to partake in.

Headcanons:

★ From the time he was young, Regulus wanted to become a Quidditch player, even though his parents always rejected the idea. He had many offers after Hogwarts but had to turn them down because it wasn’t a respectable career. Currently, Regulus works as an Unspeakable at the Ministry. It’s not by choice, but a power move so he can provide inside intel from the department when needed.

★ Regulus is a closeted bisexual, coming to terms with his sexual orientation right before he turned sixteen. Surprisingly, he was okay with it because it just felt right and made sense, but he knows it’s something his parents wouldn’t accept.

★ One of Regulus’ biggest fears is ending up like his parents in a loveless marriage and producing children that will grow up being pitted against each other and left to feel unloved and undervalued. He knows he will have to take a respectable bride, he doesn’t have a choice, but he desperately wants to marry for love.

★ Regulus has the biggest praise kink stemming from his desire for validation.

★ Regulus loves art, specifically paintings and sculptures. He loves looking at it, reading about it, and even enjoys painting in his free time. He’s no Picasso, but he does his best.

ooc: Elizabeth / 32 / She/Her / EST

[baglove]

(via cat lovers Mask by mohammed elhachimi)

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[benz-503-wordsaday]

November 3rd, 2022

He just had too... William Gibson, gibbons and jamming late night on an Ibsen, Ibis, iris, sly and fly and stylish, pattern recognition - re: ip slash config slash migs and hornets and jets, sonic booms, fingers flying, weaving looms, loam, soil, Egyptian banks... Fit it all in: flesh in Spanxs, Spock talk, live long and prospie forever and ever, Neverland, and neuroromancer, pirouette, midnight dancers. Clocks, balk, fox trot fox trot. Blood clots, crib talk, baby babble/saber rattle, tiger tooth and whiskey tango, go, go.   At the point in my mathing where I'm finally encountering squiggles. Similar deep sigh, big exhale, and bewilderment middle school me felt upon discovering imaginary numbers and letters in equations (nbd tbh). Squiggle functions and equations named like streets and theaters after remarkable humans. Head hurting, but it's pretty awesome stuff. Shout out to engineers and physicists. I feel like an absolute dummy.   [------] Finally worked through my first fourier series example equation. Simple triangle function. Ouch. Oof. Math muscles very weak. Trigonometry, integrations, derivations, series, fractions... Time to make amends with old foes.   Year 5 - Benny Z and the Order of the Arkys Wish me luck.   First Attempt at Poetry em Portuguese Esta sonhei com fantasmas, eles disseram, 'gostava de ir com vocês mas não posso.' Novamente, eu acordei com apenas nós, em nossa cama viva. - BZ August 12th, 2022 Ben, Neb, Zen, Beez, and Benjamin missed repenting in the hidden digital public confessional. They missed the sorting and disentangling of thoughts, impressions, impulses, reactions, responses, ideas, hunches, feelings, experiences, sights, moments, interactions, and recollections that constituted waking conscious life. Something to the offloading of the open tabs - cache is king - of the mental landscape. Reviewing (gerund) Portuguese Grammar workbook and re-remembering one of the two things Ms. Stemmler said that are still indelible in the hippocampus. It was Sophomore year first period Spanish, second year, and we were learning or trying to learn how to conjugate verbs. After the worksheets were handed out she foreshadowed the complexity of the language and in a under the breath type of toss away comment said something to the effect of, ‘if you finish these worksheets don’t worry there are nineteen more tenses to learn.’ It was one of those hammer blows to an insecure student not yet comfortable with trying hard on something challenging. There were only three tenses, I’d thought, past, present, future, what could the other sixteen conjugations be about? The memory was stored in the circuit responsible for maintaining subtle hints from teachers alluding to what we don’t know about what we don’t know and recalling it must have jostled another electric impression, the time Ms. Taylor, beloved third grade teacher with a convertible, mentioned the oxford comma and the grammatical controversy surrounding its use or the lack of it. How could a ten year old imagine legions of prescriptivist and descriptivist grammarians savagely debating a punctuation mark? The mother tongue lives in the heart and habit, not yet cerebral and if it sounds right, if it reads right, it’s right whether or not anyone done got anything nice or nasty to say about it. Cookie Monster be eating cookies. A smidge of pidgin, the language arts neglected and the language of the other left unknown and unfelt and like certain fungus fear grows best in the damp and dark. They snatched children. Took them from their families. Boisterous warriors bragging about going medieval on so-and-so and a abstract understanding of the nature of the world that provides moral justification for brutal acts prevents a corrosive cognitive dissonance and what are guilt and shame and what is wrong and right and what is good and evil and who gets to be human and how many truly believe in an ontologically level playing field. Past more than perfect tense, an action in the past completed before another action. Gerund form, -ing, running, walking, thinking, talking. Past perfect: they had done what needed doing. She had loved to the best of their ability. In that same Spanish class one student jumped out the window and went to Starbucks when the teacher wasn’t paying attention. The Spanish teacher from Mexico cried in class when I was in 7th grade and the Iranian chemistry teacher cried my Freshman year when one of the students spewed some vitriol and it was embarrassing to be associated with him, though I didn’t confront him or call him out. Melting pot or quilted patchwork of cultures or something else entirely. 

[yeonjunszn]

— 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬

pairing: choi yeonjun x f!reader

word count: 4.7k

genre: angst/fluff/smut

warnings for part three: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, the words sex and fuck are in this chapter like 300 times, yeonjun is actually insufferable, sunyoung best girl!!, gyu x reader moment 🙀, reader has not one but TWO car sexcapades in this part but only one is detailed, semi public sex, car sex, cow girl position yeehaw, pussy job, unprotected sex, pussy drunk yeonjun, creampie, unspoken feelings ig counts as a warning??

summary: after being convinced by your friends to go to a party on campus, you meet choi yeonjun, hybe university’s biggest flirt. a couple years older than you, you learn that he’s actually the president of the host fraternity and there’s a lot more to him than just getting drunk every weekend and breaking girls’ hearts. however, getting to know someone of his caliber so personally always comes with a price, and you’re not sure if it was worth the cost.

— this whole part is just a whirlwind tbh. i don’t really know how i feel about it but whatever

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“i’m convinced that you’re literally lying to me right now. there’s no way in hell you slept with choi yeonjun.”

sunyoung stares at you blankly, her arms crossed and her back resting against your headboard. you were now safely in the comfort of your shared apartment, showered and clothed in pajamas rather than the peach bathing suit from last night. you don’t understand why your statement was so hard to believe. he was a womanizer and you were a woman, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“if you don’t believe me,” you pause, getting up to fish the paper folded in the pocket of your shorts. “then read this.”

she eyes you skeptically before snatching the note from your grasp. she unfolds it slowly, maintaining the eye contact she had with you. you watch as she scans each word like they’re the clues to the world’s biggest unsolved mystery. you already had each curve to each letter engraved in your memory, not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“holy shit. you slept with choi yeonjun.” the brunette gapes. she runs a hand through her hair, handing the paper back to you. for some reason she looks more distressed than you are. “what are you gonna do?”

“i have no idea, sun, i’ve never been in a situation like this before,” you groan, flopping backward onto your mattress. she follows suit and the two of you are now glaring up at your ceiling. “he’s— well obviously you know how hot he is, he’s choi fucking yeonjun. but, i feel something more than just a surface level attraction. and i’ve only met the guy twice.”

“okay so you’re not just thinking with your vagina. you think you might like— like him?” she asks.

“i don’t know. i really should’ve thought this through before i had sex with him.” you can feel the inner turmoil continuing. the past two weekends had resulted in giant headaches, both caused by a certain frat boy.

“from what i’ve heard, he’s bad news, babe. he doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. and the girls he did talk to more than once said he cheated on them. or i guess,” she makes air quotes with her fingers. “‘cheated.’”

“of course this would happen to me the one time i decide to leave the apartment. why did it have to be him? why couldn’t have i been attracted to like sim jake or choi beomgyu? even soobin would’ve been a better choice. you lucked out with hyuka.” you slide your palms down your face, a strong urge to pull at your roots apparent now.

“okay, first of all, hyuka isn’t as big of a loser as you and taehyun act like he is. second of all, sim jake isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so you lucked out with that. third of all, it’s been around that soobin is kinda the same as yeonjun in terms of one night stands, he just isn’t an asshole about it,” sunyoung sits up, resting on her elbows. “and lastly, beomgyu is honestly a pretty cool guy for being a frat boy. the girls he has fucked have only ever said nothing but nice things about him.”

you mimic her actions, furrowing your eyebrows. “nice things like what?”

“he takes them to breakfast the morning after or if it’s during the day, to dinner. he feels it out before he tells them if he’s interested or not. he doesn’t disappear on them. i feel like that’s more than you can ask for from most college guys these days.” she explains, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

you thought maybe it could be a sign that you should throw away the paper with yeonjun’s number. you should sever the ties you’ve made and start anew. choi beomgyu was a very pretty boy and you already had his number saved from the other night because he had the balls to straight up ask for yours.

no no. this had to be a sign.

“you know what, i think i’m gonna text him.” you say, grabbing your phone from your nightstand.

“what? i thought we just established that yeonjun was—”

“not him, you idiot. i’m gonna text beomgyu,” you smack her on the back of her head. “i’ll just ask if he wants to hang out or something. i’ll be vague.”

the brunette visibly perks up, bouncing up and down on your bed like an excited puppy. “fantastic idea! i’m all for it. then you’ll get your insides rearranged by someone who isn’t a dick and you can sleep like a baby.”

you burst into a fit of laughter, shoving her shoulder lightly as you unlock your phone. you open the contacts app and find beomgyu’s, your thumb hovering over the message icon. you were suddenly a lot more nervous than you were initially. you don’t even know why, it was just a simple text.

[12:27] you: hey gyu! it’s me! :)

[12:27] you: i was wondering if you were free tonight

“now we wait.” you sigh, falling backwards again. sunyoung snickers at your anxiousness, flicking you on the forehead.

[12:34] gyu: oh hi!

[12:34] gyu: i was beginning to think you deleted my number haha

[12:35] gyu: and yeah i’m free what’s up?

“he responded,” you slap her arm, gripping it with all of your force. you swallow thickly. “what do i say?”

“give me that—” she snatches the device from your hands before you can even register what she’s doing.

[12:37] you: great!

[12:37] you: there’s this new ice cream place that opened a few blocks away from my apartment

[12:38] you: i’ve been wanting to try it but my friends keep flaking

[12:38] you: do you wanna go with me?

your phone comes flying at you and you struggle to catch it, fumbling with it a couple times. you read over the messages she sent, nodding to yourself. it wasn’t a lie at least, they had been taking way too many rain checks lately. and you really did want to try that ice cream place.

[12:41] gyu: that sounds good to me :)

[12:41] gyu: i can pick you up from your apartment since i know you don’t have your own car

[12:42] gyu: only if that’s okay with you though

[12:43] you: that’s perfectly fine with me :) i’ll send you the address

[12:43] you: see you at 7?

[12:44] gyu: 7 works!

[12:44] gyu: see you at 7 :P

“he’s coming at seven.” you gulp, covering your face. this felt scarier than fooling around with yeonjun. you think it’s because you knew you had a better chance of actually becoming friends with beomgyu, so if things go south, it’s goodbye to that.

“you’ll be fine, hun. you’ve got six hours to calm down until then. i’ll pick out a cute outfit for you and you’ll forget all about choi yeonjun,” sunyoung cheers, shaking your whole body like a maniac. “besides, there’s also a chance you and beomgyu won’t have sex and you just end up having fun. it’s a win win.”

she was right. the only downside was losing a friendship, but the probability of that happening was really low. beomgyu didn’t seem like the type of person who held grudges. he was a social butterfly and loved putting himself out there.

by the time it was 6:30, you already finished getting ready for your date. even though it was the peak of summer, it was always a bit breezier in the evening, so sunyoung chose a white sundress and a light blue cardigan. she left the shoes and everything else up to you, so you decided to wear converse.

when you went out into the living room, you found all three of your friends on the couch watching a movie. sunyoung hollers at your appearance, whistling like a drunk man catcalling on the side of the street. you do a small curtsy and a spin to appease her.

“you look like an innocent church girl about to sneak out to meet her bad boy boyfriend.” she giggles, cuddling into kai’s side. he and taehyun laugh at her joke.

“haha very funny, sun. this isn’t some cliché wattpad trope. i’d have to be innocent and actually go to church for that to be true,” you roll your eyes, smoothing down your dress. you realize why the guys are over at the same moment and pinch the bridge of your nose. “tonight was movie night, wasn’t it? i’m so sorry guys it completely slipped from my mind.”

“you’re okay! i encouraged this anyway,” sunyoung smiles, swatting in your direction. “beomgyu’s gonna flip when he sees how cute you look.”

“wait, beomgyu? i thought you were messing around with yeonjun.” taehyun raises an eyebrow. you feel your face go hot out of sheer embarrassment.

“sunyoung! you told them?!” you exclaim. you kind of really want to rip your hair out again.

“no, i didn’t! i swear! i’d never break girl code like that.” she defends herself with wide eyes.

“yeah, she didn’t, i just assumed. you’re not exactly subtle with the ‘fuck me’ eyes you give each other. i’m glad you’re seeing someone else though. i don’t want you to get hurt.” taehyun says, shifting in his spot on the sofa. good god.

just then, your phone dings, signalling that beomgyu was there. you scratch your neck. “well nothing’s going on with that anymore, so you don’t have to worry. now if you’ll excuse me, my date is here. i’ll see y’all later.”

you wave to them and hurry out of your apartment. you sigh for the umpteenth time that day as you make your way down the stairs of your building. a black ford mustang is parked in the front of it, the driver’s side window rolled down to reveal a smiling beomgyu. the sight instantly lifts your mood.

you jog around the front of the car, opening the passenger door and hopping in. you didn’t peg him to be a car guy, but you weren’t complaining. it was a really nice car. as soon as he hears the click of your seat belt, he’s driving off.

“i’m actually really happy you texted. yeonjun had said he was gonna have over some girl and i’d much rather not be home when he does. my room’s right next to his and the walls aren’t the thickest,” beomgyu snorts. “but i’ve also been wanting to hang out with you since we met.”

was this your life, ‘yeonjun this’ and ‘yeonjun that’? it’s like he’s all you ever hear about now. in the past, you’d only heard his name a few times in passing, but never directly. you had your fingers crossed that that’d change soon, especially because you were talking to beomgyu. it seemed he who shall not be named was living his life exactly the way you knew he would. you weren’t special. no matter how little or how much you hoped you were.

“i didn’t get to speak to you a lot at the party,” you say, rubbing your clammy hands on your thighs. “you looked really good. and i kinda just wanted an excuse to see you.”

you take a moment to rake your eyes over him. his hair is styled the same as the previous night, but was just as attractive. he was wearing some jeans and a t-shirt, black and white air forces on his feet. skater-boy-core as you liked to call it.

“yeah?” he glances at you, prying his eyes from the road ahead of him for a second. you feel like you could sink into the leather seat of his car, crossing your legs. he has one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift. you nod in response, afraid of your voice failing you.

this is what the university experience was supposed to be like, not holed away in your room rewatching netflix rom coms that were so bad they were good. you were out on a sunday evening, with a guy might you add, and you were enjoying yourself. you didn’t need to go to a party every saturday just because you felt obligated to.

you arrive at the ice cream shop not long after, ogling at beomgyu as he parallel parks, turning over his shoulder to reverse. the scene is picturesque, the setting sun in the background looking almost ethereal in comparison to yesterday.

you both get out of the car, but you pause to take a photo prior to going inside. “sorry, the sky is really pretty,” you smile sheepishly. you purse your lips and take a step back. “i want you to be in it. that way everyone can see my view right now.”

he grins, closing his eyes and putting up a peace sign as you snap the picture. you post the picture on your instagram story with the caption ‘he thought the view was pretty but i thought he was prettier’ like a sappy couple would and tag him. he laughs, sharing it on his account. ‘it was actually the other way around but whatever’ is what his read.

he grabs your hand and drags you into the ice cream shop, which is relatively busy for it being a sunday. as you stand in line, you think to yourself how normal this feels. holding hands with choi beomgyu while on a date, waiting to order. who needs choi yeonjun anyways?

“can i get one cookies and cream and—” beomgyu turns to you expectantly. you hadn’t even realized you were at the counter.

“i’ll have the same thing.”

he nods with that dimpled smile of his and whips out his card to pay. you’re about to protest but he just moves you out of the way so the next customer can order. you suppose two ice creams won’t make him go bankrupt. especially since he drives a mustang. he snickers at your pouted lips, booping your nose.

a couple minutes later and you’re walking out of the small shop, getting back into his car. he suggests a spot for you not too far away so you can eat your chilled dessert. you agree and he takes off. you notice that his is starting to melt so you feed it to him while he drives. it’s not much longer until he’s parking at the top of a hill that overlooks the city.

the sun has since set and the stars dotted their dark canvas, the crescent moon claiming center stage. there’s no one else around, just both of you in the comfort of his car. it was positively breathtaking. you give beomgyu his ice cream.

“i didn’t think you were a cookies and cream kinda girl.” he teases, sticking a spoonful of his into his mouth. you giggle.

“i’m not. i’m an ice cream kinda girl. i can’t be tied down, you know.” you joke. he laughs as he scoops up some more, examining it before directing it to you. you part your lips for the spoon, allowing it to breach past. you lap up everything on the cutlery, almost leaving it clean.

“is it weird that i really wanna kiss you?” he asks with a shaky chuckle, his focus trained on your tongue licking around your mouth to make sure there was nothing there. you shake your head, placing your cup on his dashboard.

“it’s not weird at all,” you lean in closer to him. “i wanna do the same.”

“fuck it.”

his own cup is discarded and he’s across the middle console in a second, holding your face as he connects your lips feverishly. you kiss back with just as much aggression, bringing your fingers up to his hair. you scramble into the cramped backseat, letting him hover over you with one hand sneaking under your dress.

who needs choi yeonjun anyways?

your thighs tremble as you slide your underwear back on, snatching your cardigan from the front seat to wipe your sweaty forehead. beomgyu zips up and buttons his jeans, leaning against the headrest as he catches his breath. sunyoung wasn’t lying about you getting your insides rearranged. the guy was packing something serious in those pants.

“you okay?” he asks, noticing the quiver in your legs.

“yeah, i’m good! i just didn’t expect you to be so— uh— so big…” your eyes widen at your own words and you slap a palm over your face. “i am so sorry, i don’t know why that slipped out.”

“no, no, don't be. i’m glad you think so, it really boosts my ego.” he goads, breaking into a fit of laughter at the deadpan you give him. you swat at his chest, which is thankfully clothed now.

after a bit more comfortable conversation, beomgyu drives you home. you had to confess, you actually had a nice night with him and wouldn’t mind doing this another time, with or without the sex. he pulls up to your building and you unbuckle your seat belt.

“i had a lot of fun tonight, gyu. thank you.” you smile.

“me too. can i— can i see you again?” he fiddles with his fingers, tapping them on the steering wheel. you nod enthusiastically.

“i’d like that.”

once he sees you disappear up the stairs, he leaves. when he arrives back at the frat house, he realizes the girl that yeonjun had over is already gone, her car no longer parked down the street. his feet carry him to the front door but before he can open it himself, it’s swinging wide to reveal a very ticked off choi yeonjun.

“what the fuck is your problem?” the ravenette seethes, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

“what the hell are you talking about? move.” beomgyu scrunches up his brows, pushing him out of his way so he could enter the house. he finds his other frat brothers in the kitchen, all five of them adorning concerned faces.

“he— um— he saw your story,” heeseung says, running a hand through his hair. “we didn’t tell him anything, though.”

this is exactly why he wanted to avoid any social media posts, but he couldn’t help himself with you. if he was gonna have the chance, he wanted to show you off to the world.

“wait, you all knew he was going out with her?”  yeonjun asks with a scoff. none of the boys answer him, looking around the room with feigned interest.

“and if they did? so what, you fucked her. she’s not your girlfriend. it’s obvious that she came to her senses and figured out you weren’t good enough for her,” beomgyu snaps, balling up his fists. “you have no right to be mad, you literally had someone over here earlier and made it very loud and fucking clear you didn’t care about her. you’re just pissed because she gave you a taste of your own medicine.”

yeonjun clenches his jaw, walking right out the front door. he doesn’t have anything to retort with, because deep down he knows beomgyu’s right. maybe you did deserve better than him.

but he’d never let himself admit that.

you awake the next morning to the sound of excessive buzzing coming from your phone. you run your eyes tiredly as you sift through your notifications when a couple catch your attention, effectively waking you up fully.

[10:22] cyjun started following you

[10:22] cyjun wants to send you a message

you quickly unlock the app and click on your direct messages. you gulp, reading the dm from the last person you wanted to talk to in the world. you hop out of bed, rushing around your room to get dressed as fast as you can. you hobble into the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“hey, are you going somewhere?” sunyoung asks when you emerge from the hallway and bolt for the door. you grit your teeth.

“uh, yeah! i’m— uh— meeting gyu for breakfast.” you lie. she grins widely.

“told you he was better for you.”

you hum and make your escape, poking your head in to say your farewell. “okay gotta go now, bye!” you notice the white bmw parked across from your complex right away. you don’t even know why you were doing this. you’d established that you were gonna keep moving forward with a choi-yeonjun-free college career. it appears that he had other plans, though.

you wince when your brain recognizes the location he takes you to, the same hill beomgyu had parked at last night. just like then, there was no one else and it was practically deserted, just you and him and his car. the ravenette assesses your discomfort, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning back against his door.

“he brought you here yesterday huh? that’s why you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” yeonjun chuckles. his lips are curled into an almost menacing smile. he’s belittling you. and you’re falling for the bait. he motions behind him with his thumb. “bet he fucked you like a whore in his backseat too, right? tell me, sweetheart, was he as good as—”

“what do you want from me, yeonjun?” you bark, fisting the fabric of your sweater out of pure frustration. “in case you forgot, sleeping together once and tons of sexual attraction doesn’t make me belong to you. i can fuck whoever i want. i don’t need your permission and you don’t get to be angry about it, especially not when you’re doing the same thing.”

his face contorts into one of absolute annoyance. “what makes you think i’m angry about you sleeping with beomgyu? i couldn’t care less.”

“you’re not very good at hiding your jealousy. green isn’t your color,” you huff, turning towards your window. “i’m not the type of girl who just lets guys walk all over her. you may have gotten away with it with everyone else, but not with me. i’m not gonna let that shit fly. i know my own self worth. so you can’t just show up and all of a sudden act like you genuinely liked me when i was only ever someone you could conquer.”

for the first time in his life, choi yeonjun is rendered speechless. you were so sure of yourself, a confidence he’s not used to when it comes to the girls he’s always surrounded with. you didn’t worship the ground he walked on. you called him out on his bullshit. and maybe that’s why he was so drawn to you. it was such a drastic change in atmosphere, being the one doing the chasing.

fuck, why hadn’t you kissed him yet? the tension was through the roof.

he lunges toward you, pressing his lips to your own with so much passion that you feel a fire igniting underneath your skin. you gasp, parting from him momentarily as you process what the hell just happened. his eyes are glossed over and his gaze shifts between yours and your mouth.

it takes all but two seconds for you to make up your mind. hook.

you reciprocate his hunger, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. he groans into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. wearing a skirt was a terrible idea, you think to yourself when you feel the growing tent in his pants through the thin material of your underwear.

he nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin of your collar bones. you mewl, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. he hurriedly removes your cardigan, bringing his hands back down to massage up and down your thighs.

“you’re so so gorgeous on top of me like this, sweetheart.” he nearly growls, gripping your hips and bucking upwards to grind into your clothed core. you involuntarily moan at the praise. he grins, reconnecting your mouths sloppily. his thumb snakes its way between the two of you, rubbing tight circles on your clit through your panties, causing you to get mortifyingly wetter.

you can’t take it any longer, squirming around on his lap. he stills you, feeling himself get harder with each wiggle of your hips. you whine, almost digging your nails into his scalp. “please, jun. want you so bad.”

“yeah?” he asks breathlessly, his stomach tightening when you nod desperately. “okay baby, you can have me.” line.

you get rid of your top, bra, and underwear, leaving just your skirt. you aid yeonjun in ripping off his shirt and yanking both his pants and brief down his long legs. the minute all restrictions are gone, you hover over his cock, running the tip along your folds. he hisses at the contact, the wet heat of your cunt intoxicating him.

you finally line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. a voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. at first you stay like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“god, you’re s-so deep, jun,” you cry, resting your forehead against his. he pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling yourself every single time.

“fuck, you’re taking me so well. such a good girl.” yeonjun grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. was it possible to be this pussy drunk?

your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of immediately. he bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly close to him, thrusting up into you. the new angle allows him to find that one spot that has you seeing stars, contributing to the fogginess of your brain.

you practically cradle his head in the crook of your neck, panting and moaning in his ear with every drive of his hips. he sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. you feel the band in your belly teetering on the edge of snapping.

you wanted to be upset. you wanted to stop this before it got too complicated and you wound up hurt. you knew you’d have less stress wondering whether or not he was out with another girl if you were with beomgyu. he treated you like a princess. he didn’t give you whiplash or give you constant migraines.

but there was something about choi yeonjun that kept sweeping you in like a tide. whenever you thought you could move on and create as much distance as you can, he finds his way to you. and you repeat the cycle all over again. sinker.

your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last, shutting his eyes tightly. “c’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his. “wanna cum for you, jun.”

he kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans, and that’s what sends you spiraling, creaming around him. he groans spilling into you and painting your insides milky white with every ounce he has to offer.

he doesn’t pull out right away, cuddling you like you’d vanish into thin air. a line had been crossed and you didn’t know what either of you were gonna do about it but you don’t get much time to ponder it, your phone vibrating in the passenger seat. you take that as your cue to get off of his lap and put your clothes on. you slip your arms through the sleeves of your cardigan after everything else, checking whatever made the device go off.

[11:56] gyu: hey! sorry i haven’t texted something weird happened when i got home

[11:56] gyu: i really did have an awesome time with you last night though

[11:56] gyu: do you think i can cash in my second date already?

holy shit. you were fucked.

© yeonjunszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[demonslayedher]

any random trivial thoughts you have about the lives of the slayers? i like to think that nezuko keeps the acorns inosuke gave her in a jar as a collection and that inosuke is determined to fill the jar completely, hehe. also, do you think an official announcement of nezuko’s existence was made to the lower ranked demon slayers or did it travel through word of mouth. imagine oblivious demon slayers visiting the butterfly mansion, only to be greeted/encountered by nezuko

If I may add to that thought about Nezuko having a jar, Gotouge has stated that Nezuko is okay getting tossed around and bumping her head in the box because she heals from it immediately, but one of this days Tanjiro is going to open it and it will pour with acorns and glass shards, and she'll just be sitting there glaring with disappointment. (Hopefully Nezuko keeps the jar in a safe place at the Butterfly Mansion instead!)

As for telling the whole Corp that Nezuko got the OK from Oyakata-sama and the Pillars, I can see that being like a low-key announcement that spreads like a rumor, just kinda whenever the crows get around to that detail between missions. It makes sense that Oyakata-sama wanted to tell the Pillars first, and since the Pillar meeting was coming up pretty soon when Tanjiro passed the Final Selection, Oyakata-sama had probably planned as soon as he got Urokodaki's letter than he was going to have Tanjiro and Nezuko at that meeting. Even if we set the Pillars aside, though, there's wide-spread hatred against demons throughout the Corp. It probably helped to have the Pillars generally on board first. I can imagine the rest of the Corp being very curious (if cautious) about Nezuko, and although we see characters who get the pleasure of spending time with her getting to baby her, most Corp members who meet Tanjiro probably don't get to meet Nezuko face to face. Daytime is problematic, or Nezuko would otherwise be asleep a lot of the time even if Tanjiro is busy in settings when he'd meet other Corp members. Still, I think Tanjiro's reputation as a nice guy would spread even faster, so even people who were iffy about Nezuko would probably get to know Tanjiro and be like, "oh, she's probably fine."

But if we're going to get into trivial headcanons about the Slayers' everyday lives, you know who I think gets babied more than Nezuko?

Inosuke. Most of the Corp members are freaked out by him at first, but as it dawns on them that Inosuke grew up all alone, it may bring out a nurturing side in them, and it makes everyone happy to see him get better at fitting in among humankind. They get to feel proud of him as he picks up on limited amounts of etiquette and gets marginally better at picking up names, but most of them are still likely to make a quick exit when he starts getting too rambunctious.

Zenitsu, however, is someone who should know better and most people find him really annoying until they go through Pillar Training with him, as that's the strongest bonding experience most of the Corp members have ever shared, aside from the really close bonding that probably occurs a lot among members of the same Final Selection batches. However, the Corp members who have witnessed Zenitsu in action (and who were rescued by him) have nearly the same awe for him that they have for the Pillars, so they never say anything to him about how indebted they feel.

Since more of the Corp members have met Inosuke and Zenitsu than have met Nezuko, Tanjiro's saintly reputation mostly stems from how much of those two numbskulls' company he can stand, and how he can keep them in line (keeping a demon sister in line must be easy in comparison). Also, Tanjiro is not just good at tending the fire to make good rice, his sense of smell makes him a master at seasoning food perfectly, and many Corp members have cried thinking of how their own mothers never cooked so well. Tanjiro is also very good at tending to people when they fall ill.

The Pillars are so advanced in Breath technique that they don't generally catch colds unless they are recovering from serious injury or like, poisoning themselves. Normal Corp members catch minor illnesses all the time, though, and that's part of why they're so slow to advance. They tend to have to take time for lots of little things instead of just major injuries sustained in battle. They still train as much as possible to make sure they don't get rusty when it's time to take a mission again. These recovery periods are some of the only times when they can maintain a reasonable sleep schedule, many of the members who survive to old age feel long term effects of sleep deprivation in addition to lingering injuries. Since the Corp members can't very well engage in long-term goals, simple pastimes are encouraged in the daylight hours to help keep them in the moment. The Butterfly Mansion and most of the Wisteria houses are well stocked with board games like Sugoroku and card games like Karuta, as well as tools for shuttlecock and paper for origami.

While many of the Corp members try to be virtuous, and in indeed there are other circles that have their own sort of main-character like Tanjiro equivalent, there are still those who have less polished, or certainly far less positive character. The rougher members tend to spend their salary and free time on vices. Oyakata-sama understands his children are under a lot of stress and turns a blind eye to it (or two blind eyes, I guess).

Different Breaths tend to come with their own cultures, and overtime different Cultivators tend to get different reputations based on the members they send into the Corp. Like, "Oh, Yamada-sensei? Then you must be a stickler for the 10th form" or "Yamaguchi-sensei? Are you okay out there? I heard he's real half-assed on Breath technique." There is a certain amount of awe that students of former Pillars automatically get, and although some of that is due to pride and jealously, people who have been in the Corp long enough tend to get over these notions and just realize that everyone's doing their best. Since they're core Breath styles there may be other Thunder and Flame Breath users throughout the Corp from different Cultivators, but, pardon the pun, they can't hold a candle to the students of former Pillars (or the Rengoku clan in general) and it's highly, highly unlikely any of them would ever get close to the same level of mastery. There's plenty of Muratas in every Breath, basically.

Speaking of Murata, he and others like him probably had an easy time of settling down and getting married after retirement. Years of experience as swordsmen certainly gave them a mature edge over the average Joes they otherwise would be compared to, but they also have the advantage of not being freaks. Takeuchi remains life-long friends with Yushiro.

The young maidens of Wisteria houses get flirted with all the time. Many of the Corp members are starved of TLC, and while the maidens of the Wisteria houses are polite and have deep respect for the work the swordsmen do, they know they likely will not know most of them for long. However, when there is a true connection between a Corp member and a Wisteria House family member, they tend to make very solid matches. Girls make up a slim percentage of the swordsmen in the Corp, and this is why they tend to get sent on undercover missions a lot more. Demons tend to put their guards down more around women, as they'd more likely be on the look out for male swordsmen.

Girls make up a larger proportion of the Kakushi, and traditionally feminine skills are highly prized. Gotou is very proud of his sewing skills, even though he only does small repairs and has never been tasked with tailoring full uniforms. The Kakushi use a lot of code words and have a very insular work culture that is hard for outsiders to break into; even Oyakata-sama finds himself confused by a lot of it, but he appreciates that it makes them efficient and mostly leaves them be to organize themselves as they see fit (his orders are still absolute, though, so none of them are aware how much autonomy they effectively have.)

Hand signs like "don't breathe" and "don't listen" are unique to the Corp (yes, I have looked them up, consensus in the Japanese fandom is that they are unique to KnY), and taught by Cultivators. Inosuke didn't have a Cultivator to teach him so it took him a while to catch on the existence of hand signs. He makes up his own confusing hand signs to impress people with how flexible his joints are.

For many, Pillar Training was harder than undergoing Cultivation (but still less harrowing than the Final Selection). In Cultivation they tend to get specialized attention from someone who cares about them and actually knows a thing or two about how teaching works. Pillar Training does not fit this explanation at all, especially in the teaching department. As mentioned before, this is when a lot of Corp members who used to find Zenitsu insufferable come around and start to appreciate him more, for they survived different stages of training together, and every time he blew his top and complained, they were grateful he gave (loud) voice to what they were thinking but were too afraid to say. Instead of getting down and depressed, it riles them up enough to keep at it, however ridiculous the Pillar's demands are. Suffering under the Pillars also broke down perceived barriers between different ranks, building a more solid level of comradery among a lot of the Corp. However, this was also the most time most of the Corp members ever got to spend with the Pillars, who they always felt were untouchable and who they feared bothering. They feel very genuine affection for them by the time they all enter the final battle.

Once Inosuke figures out that Zenitsu can only bring out his full abilities in his sleep, he tries to goad Zenitsu into fighting him at full strength by insulting him in his sleep. He did throw a really good punch at him one time, but usually he only sleep-argues back. Other times Inosuke hits a sore spot and Zenitsu starts sleep-crying, in which case Inosuke gets bored and leaves. Once Tanjiro realizes this about Zenitsu (thanks to Inosuke having point-blank explained it to him), he puzzles over it and figures Zenitsu may not be aware of how powerful and helpful he is, and this hurts his confidence, but then again, how can he not know if he's so aware of his surroundings even in his sleep? As Zenitsu sleeps, Tanjiro has been puzzling over this a long time and how he might best be able to help Zenitsu reach his full confident potential, and by the time Zenitsu wakes up and drowsily looks over at Tanjiro, Tanjiro looks him in the eye and very seriously asks, "Zenitsu, what is your problem?" Naturally, Zenitsu interprets this as Tanjiro suddenly being very disappointed in him, and Tanjiro has unwittingly done more harm than good.

On the contrary, Tanjiro has unwittingly done a lot of simple good for most of the PTSD-suffering Corp members with his little throw-away positive comments, just like he did for Muichiro and Aoi. Most of the Corp members have never met Oyakata-sama, so Tanjiro is to many Corp members what Oyakata-sama is to the Pillars. It's like they all have an Oyakata-sama shaped hole in their hearts and Tanjiro just falls into it like a good proxy. After all is said and done and Tanjiro and Nezuko read all the kind wishes left for them in deceased Corp members' wills, Tanjiro is consumed with some guilt that he can't place faces to all the names, though he remembers the majority of them. While his memory is still fresh he works hard to recall the ones who escaped him, and then he makes sure to refresh his memory every year with annual visits to the graves.

[littleredwolf]

Stay

Pairing: Tony Stark x reader

Summary:  Reader is struggling with the guilt of a mission gone wrong and decides that leaving the compound would be better for everybody. Tony convinces her otherwise.

Warnings: None.

Words: 1,023

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The rain streaking the windows mirrored the tears running down your cheeks as you stared out across the New York skyline, the bleak atmosphere matching your mood. Your packed bags sat beside you, waiting for you to finally pluck up the courage and leave.  

Your first mission as an official member of the Avengers was supposed to be a quick 'in and out' job - extracting hostages from a HYDRA-run organisation and taking out the operatives in charge - however, the agents who'd sent your team into the field had overlooked some vital information and you'd been forced to make a tough decision in the heat of the moment - one that had resulted in a lot of people getting hurt. You’d always maintained a level head in stressful situations, but today, for whatever reason, you'd doubted your better judgement, and a black cloud of guilt had been hanging over you ever since. Nick Fury had obviously made a mistake in hiring you.

The mission had ended hours ago. Everyone had been de-briefed and the rest of the team were off doing their own things, giving you some space and providing the perfect opportunity to make your getaway. It didn't matter that your fellow team members had insisted it wasn't your fault and that what happened couldn't have been avoided - you knew it was only a matter of time before it was plastered all over the news channels and tabloids, which meant that soon the team would be getting harassed and the accusations would start flying. You couldn't bear the thought of your friends- your family - suffering for your mistakes, so you'd decided to leave and save everyone the hassle. If the person to blame wasn't around then the press would leave the inhabitants of the compound well alone. That was your thought process, anyway.

With one last glance around the room, your heart aching at the thought of never being here again, you picked up your bags and took a deep breath before turning towards the door. You jumped in fright when you saw Tony standing there, leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets.

"Not even gonna say goodbye, huh?" He observed, one eyebrow raised as his eyes met yours. "I was hoping you'd at least have written a letter."

"Tony," you pleaded, voice barely audible. He moved away from the door and came to stand in front of you, bathing you both in the pale blue glow of his arc reactor.

"Is this situation negotiable? Because I'm pretty sure that for every reason you think you should leave, I have way more for why you should stay."

You didn't dare to look him in the eye, certain that if you did any counter-argument you'd prepared would die on your tongue. He'd always had that effect on you, even after knowing him all this time he still had the ability to talk you down from the ledge and make you see sense where there was none.

"I've already made up my mind. It's better this way," you replied, attempting to step around him only for him to mirror your move and block you.

"Better for who, exactly?"

There was a hint of irritation in his tone that only added to the guilt you were already feeling - there was nothing you hated more than seeing Tony upset and knowing that you were the one causing his aggravation only made things worse.

"I messed up, Tony. I can't take that back! And tomorrow the world will be coming for you all with their torches and pitchforks…do you really want that!?"

"You make it sound like we haven't dealt with this kind of thing before…"

"Well you shouldn't have to! It was my fault those people got hurt - I was responsible for keeping them safe and I failed. Why should the rest of you suffer for my mistake!?"

Despite your best efforts to hold it together you couldn't stop the fresh onslaught of tears, and Tony's arms were around you in an instant, keeping you afloat as the waves of emotion rolled over you.

"None of what happened today was your fault, Y/N," he said softly, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. "Nobody could have predicted what was going to happen - especially when the information we had was wrong in the first place. You can't beat yourself up over this."

He moved to hold your face in both hands, leaving you no other choice but to look at him. He flashed you a reassuring smile as he swiped your tears away with his thumbs.

"Tony, I-" you began, an attempt to disagree which he quickly shot down by shushing you.

"Don't leave," he said quietly, a quiver to his voice that took you by surprise - it was rare to see any emotion other than sarcasm from the man who kept himself so guarded. “You belong here, don't leave the team...don't leave me.”

For a brief moment it felt as though the world had stopped turning, his words ringing through your head and leaving so many questions on your tongue. One look in his eyes gave you all the answers you needed, though, and suddenly you found yourself wondering why you’d ever thought it was a good idea to leave in the first place.

The media were never going to stop hounding the Avengers. Whether you were there or not, they’d always find something to blame them for, and you knew deep down that you couldn’t beat yourself up over this - it really hadn’t been your fault, but you’d learn how to deal with your guilt, in time.

“On second thought, I might stay,” you said, after a moment of silence.

“Yeah? And why’s that?” He asked with a smirk.

Without another word, you gave him your answer by closing the distance between you both and giving him the sweetest, most gentlest of kisses. It was in that moment, in Tony Stark’s arms, that you realised - you were exactly where you belonged.

[funkymbtifiction]

What would be the difference, to what they bring to the table in a friendship, between the social 2 and social 6? What should I be looking for to clearly distinguish one from the other? I believe both place relationships on a very high level of importance and standard for the friendships.

This is a good question because there's some crossover between them -- both being super-ego types (feeling it is their duty to...) and both having expectations for their relationship. One thing in Lucovich's social 6 type description caught my eye, that does seem 2ish -- the social 6 may have certain expectations from their friends that if unmet, cause them frustration or resentment. Since 2s "give to get," there is some crossover there.

I think the main distinction would be that a social 2 is seeking a position of superiority in the relationship; being needed is beautiful but also makes me 'higher than' the person I am helping, so there's the 2ish Pride (their sin) coming into their interactions. They want to be the leader in this relationship, through being the indispensable half of it. I am loved, because I am needed, and if they no longer need me, that would crush me, because my identity is to help. 2s are also forceful in their desire to assist people, which means they overstep others' boundaries in the name of being helpful. Consider Jane Austen's Emma, a social 2, in how she oversteps her boundaries with Harriet to "help" her gain a better position in society, marry the 'right kind of person,' and even helps her write a rejection letter to the farmer who wants to marry her. 2s can be invasive in this way, by assuming other people can't do things themselves. Social 2s also proactively go after people -- they pursue them hard.

Social 6s have that ambivalent push-pull with people; they want to be close, but being too close makes them anxious, so they pull away. They move toward, then back off, fearful of what the relationship might entail or whether they can trust this person. There's a tendency to show up for their friends, but it's also coming less from a place of wanting to be needed, and feeling that this is the loyal thing to do; loyal friends are there for each other, get each other's back, and they want / expect you to do the same. It's all built around trust and maintaining the bond once forged. But there's also fear wrapped up into it. When they overstep, it's to caution others about the potential consequences of their decisions. Or to disapprove of them living in a way that the 6 does not like, or that the 6 feels might hurt them down the road. It's about safety within friendships, and if the 6 feels that the relationship is teetering, they will either pull away to protect themselves, or pursue the other person out of anxiety at being abandoned. 6s will help not to get things back, but just because it seems like the altruistic thing to do. They do not want to be needed as much as a 2 does; because that traps them in a relationship they may feel ambivalent about for a long time. 6s being the center of the head center have two wings, both of which hate being relied on -- the 5 wants to minimize people's dependence on them, and the 7 doesn't want to get stuck in an unpleasant and boring situation.

So, you need to also factor in the wings. The social 2 has either a social 1 wing (a moral crusader who wants to transform society) or a social 3 wing (an ambitious, self-confident, assertive desire to succeed and impress. The social 6 either has a social 5 wing (someone who digs into knowledge as a buffer against their anxiety and to protect them from the outside world) or a social 7 wing (I am going to throw a party for all my friends! let's keep this light and fun!).

You should also remember that the 2, regardless of stacking, is only over-thinking their relationships (because that's all that matters to them) -- nothing else. The 6 is over-thinking absolutely everything, all the time, because they are trying to avoid making mistakes that could ruin their life and fear looms large in their eyes.

[practicalmagicintuitions]

“The fates lead the willing and drag the unwilling”

I was thinking about that last MT podcast HC had when he mentioned stoicism and a book I have but I haven’t read yet. So I decided to deep dive in a little bit because I studied philosophy at the university at a very basic level but I always wanted to know more, so this seems a good occasion. I am also interested in what HC could see in this philosophy school. I think we all know at this point he is interested in things that interest his people, not necessarily him or he is dropping ideas, new things fast. So one part of this will be a summary of stoicism because I feel many people have misconceptions or don’t know what is this just saying this is sh*t even don’t have the slightest idea about it. The other part will be a little HC armchair analysis by me throughout this topic. And I also decided to read the book he mentioned - Viktor E. Frankl Man's Search for Meaning - and maybe I will walk through it or give you a summary if you interested. 

Bare with me, because this turned out to be long, but I had to get out his from my system.

Not soon after the pandemic and the lockdown started in 2020 Penguin Random House said the print sales of Marcus Antonius’s Meditations are up 28% for the first quarter of 2020 vs 2019, while print sales of Letters from a Stoic are up 42% for the same period. The ebook sales rose by 356% . This boom was because of the pandemic but the popularity of modern stoicism has been an upcoming thing for a while especially since people like Bill Gates or Warren Buffet allegedly used stoicism in their business and Thomas Kaplan is supporting a Stoicism Course at Brown University. But unfortunately, modern stoicism has become kind of a ready-made lifehack, a self-helping method, that’s why books like Ryan Holiday’s one could be published and becomes a success. This is where I see modern stoicism’s faults. 

Stoicism seems a good school to support or to follow in the pandemic because this is about we have to accept the things we have no control over. Probably that’s why the sales went up. This is about don’t letting uncontrollable things or events messing with your judgment and clarity. Fear, screams, panic, rages don’t help. And I think we can agree this is true. Aurelius wrote his Meditations in the middle of a battle when his men were dying not just because of the fights but because of a pox epidemic and top of that he was an Emperor. So to maintain his sanity he had become a stoic. He didn’t have an influence on the epidemic so he just accept it and didn’t spend his energy raging about it. 

Stoicism was founded by Zenon around 300 BC. And it was a thriving and popular school without huge wars or pandemics or anything. Back then it was not a reaction to something but a preparation for something. More directly prepare yourself the thing you cannot be prepared for. And probably this is the OG stoicism most valuable teaching that there are events in this world we simply cannot control. What we can control however how we react to those events. Are we remain calm or think this is a catastrophe. Let see a very basic example. We are mortals, we will die no matter what. This is a sure event we have no control over. What we can control that our view on this. Will we panic? Refuse to even talk about death or refuse to make a will because “OMG I will die then!!” Like spoiler alert, it will happen, will or no will. Or we understand our time is limited and try to enjoy it and not see smaller inconveniences are tragedies. I am sure we all know people who think if they spill themselves over with coffee or the handle of the grocery’s bag comes off it’s a pure tragedy and they are capable of thinking about this all day as something it is happening with them always an exclusively. 

Until this, I think it’s all good we can use this in our daily life. What is dangerous in the OG stoicism is that the stricter wing of it thought emotions as a whole or almost all of it cause confusion so you basically should eliminate emotions to have that clarity on life. That’s why Diogenes wrote that the wise is emotionless. And this is the main and very valid criticism again stoics, that with taking away the emotions they basically ripping of humans from something very unique valuable, important, because our emotions make us humans. And because living totally emotionless is kinda impossible this goal is not realistic, so it causes many frustrations ( oh my... even more emotions!) Because think about it, who are described as emotionless? Psychopaths. 

You have cases, events, when your emotions, even overflowing ones are right and acceptable and suppressing them, could be dangerous. Because realistic or not Marcus Aurelius and Seneca and the other stoics idea was not just watching the world and letting things happen, shrugging a shoulder and say nothing, no! Their philosophy and aim were to eliminate the bothering things which not let you think calmly. And since we are talking about philosophy the reality of this in practice is secondary. Critics also think ( and maybe the modern stoicism is going in this direction) that a hardcore stoics care only about themself and their egos while Seneca says friendships are important and in general most stoics accepted positive feelings (to a certain extent).

Stoicism comes back to life mostly in psychotherapy around 1900 by Paul Dubois ( before him there was another new wave of stoicism in the 16th century) and that’s where Victor E Frankle is connected to this topic. I haven’t read his book yet but I know his method is called logotherapy (logos= meaning) and this was born in the deepest existential crisis when his whole family was killed in a concentration camp and he felt he had remained only one personal freedom, the way how he reacts to the circumstances. Frankle invented his own method so he is not just planted some ancient in the modern world but he in fact thought Socrates and his philosophy is his inspiration. I won’t talk about this more until I read his book. 

* I wanted to listen to the whole podcast again, but I couldn’t so I just went to the part we care about now.

So they are talking about morning routines and he mention that one of his teachers in primary school said to him “Always expect the unexpected” This is pure stoicism and while I am not suggesting he is lying I noticed he likes to blend his current interest with his childhood memories like when he said at the WitcherCon how they had to build a fantasy castle in the school (or something) and this was such good preparation for him because he has a fantasy series now. Convenient right?

So he mentioned the teacher and a little later hinting that he is into stoicism lately. Question is, which comes first? The teacher with the stoic idea or the stoicism as a new interest somehow repainted his childhood memories? 

Then he again is talking about the stoic’s way of control. Or does he? 

“ focusing on the thing you can control and make yourself better to control them” 

This was never part of the OG philosophy because that is not about being a control freak. It is actually the opposite. If you cannot control something let it go, not force things to go on your way and if you failed then you let go. 

The next part it’s not about this topic but I have to mention it because I kinda overlooked it when I listed this at the first time.

He is asked about the fitness industry’s mistakes and he said

“I wouldn’t be the kinda person to point my finger at anyone and say there is a big mistake there…. I wouldn’t ever want to point to finger at anyone saying there is a mistake “

So… should I insert the FO post here? And I know the question and the answer was about fitness but he clearly has no problem pointing fingers at people. 

This leads to us again to the control topic. His FO post is creaming about controlling. “ You don’t like the way I am dating? You don’t like I have a covid romance? Then I will tell you what to do and how to behave because I need to have control over my fandom”

When the host asked him about overcoming obstacles he mention the book - Victor E. Frankl Man's Search for Meaning. (he also said it’s difficult to give advice…)

While he is talking about the book (and for me, it’s clear that the host doesn’t give a damn about this) so HC’s whole tone is changed. Just compare when he is talking about MT and training and so on, he is so irritating and unlistenable but here he is calmer, doesn’t use his voice so expressively, doesn’t emphasise that much in a sentence etc. This to me shows he is actually craving after something more, something deeper, something serious. Not just talking about his ties and blueberry smoothies. I don’t think is dumb (I think he has dumb choices thought) I think he could be more both as an actor both as an individual because when he was talking about the book I felt he has a true, genuine interest and it was a one-second opportunity to talk about something interesting not just fart powder.  

I feel his interest in stoicism is an attempt to validate why he is oppressing his feelings. I am sure he does this because he is uncomfortable with his feelings, past and present. For example, I think instead of the bullying his main trauma is being sent away from home to a boarding school and experiencing cold treatment from his mom (the infamous stop calling story). But he oppressing this because I guess all of his brothers he is looking up to loves their mom and he feels he needs to be a good son but questioning his mom means he is a bad one. So instead of admitting that he is hurt and damaged by it he is saying the bullying was his worst experience. 

This means to me he doesn’t understand stoicism, ancient or modern he just wants and moreover, he needs something he can hold and cling to, something that gave himself meaning. As a book’s title says: Man’s search for meaning. And I feel HC does this maybe a little bit desperately. Searching for the answers and this moment he thinks stoicism is the key to finding what he is looking for while in reality, the main problem is he doesn’t ask the right questions. And without them, he won’t find any answer. Or meaning. 

Title quote from Seneca

[drawlfoy]

Mirror, Mirror Finale P.2

masterlist  request guidelines

pairing: draco x ravenclaw reader

request: yes very highly requested lol

summary: despite never speaking before, y/n has a big crush on draco malfoy, a particularly broody and obnoxious slytherin. what will happen when they finally have to start associating? and what if they run into a certain mirror that shows you what you truly desire?

warnings: cursing!

a/n: so ik i said this was gonna be out later this week but i love you guys too much! here it is...the final part of mirror, mirror! it’s weird to finally finish a series like this but ohhhh boy here we are

taglist: @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @mey-rapp @kaibie @blackpinkdolan @the-wiener-soldierrrrr @sugarbby99 @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop

word count: 2.1k

“About time you got off your arse.”

“Hello to you too, Rena,” Y/N sighed as she dropped her satchel on her bed. Her roommate watched, bemused, as she began to unpack her things. 

“How are you?” she asked, her voice noticeably softer. “I really missed you. We were all worried sick, you know.”

Y/N snorted, tossing her wrinkled robes on the bed and making a mental note to spell them neat later. “I do know. Madame Pomfrey was going to kill me for how many times she had to tell you to leave me and let me rest.” 

Rena’s eyes sparkled.

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Y/N. “I missed you too.”

The two sat in silence for a bit as the cold afternoon breeze wafted into their room, carrying the smell of fresh snow in. 

“So, anything exciting happen? Did anyone tell you anything….interesting?”

“No.” Y/N was about to turn back to her work before she caught the mischievous expression on Rena’s face. “What? Why?”

“Nothing,” she sang. “I’m just wondering. I have to catch up with my best friend, you know. It’s been forever.”

“It’s been the whole of four days.”

“It’s been forever,” she restated, jumping up and spinning Y/N around (who couldn’t help but allow a slow grin to spread across her face). 

“I was going crazy in there.” Y/N’s voice was considerably more serious. “I never told you, but--” she chose to ignore the look of anticipation written all over Rena’s face, “--Malfoy talked to me. And he was so nice to me, it was we--”

“That COWARD!” 

The outburst started Y/N, who dropped her things on the floor in shock. “I’m sorry? Rena, what happened?”

“I can’t tell you,” said Rena, her tone dutiful and mournful. “It’s not my place. Anyways, what did that loser do?”

“Er,” began Y/N, “I don’t know how much of it was real or if it was because I was on pain potion, but he and I--I don’t know, flirted? There was a lot of banter, and before he knew it he pulled me off the ground--”

“You were on the ground?”

“--he pulled me off the ground and picked the gravel out of my palms.” Y/N swallowed as she recounted the instance. She’d never seen him look so soft before. “He said he had something he wanted to tell me, and his voice got all strange.”

“And then?” 

“And then Madame Pomfrey came to yell at me and basically--oh god, Rena, she basically told him that I dreamt of him!”

Rena snorted with laughter. “Shit, dude. I don’t think you should worry, though. You’d think any bloke with half a brain would’ve figured out that you were obsessed with him by now.”

“Shut up.” Y/N’s face was hot. “Anyways, I haven’t seen him since. I’d prefer if we could stop talking about this.”

“Sure, sure.” She took in a breath. “Wait, what about rounds? Don’t you still have to see him?”

“No. Flitwick told me I’m off. At least until next month.” If she sped through the thought, it didn’t hurt as much.

“Ending of a chapter, huh? How are you feeling about that?”

Y/N sighed. “Honestly, Rena, I love you, you know I do, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Okay? It’s over.”

If her words carried any deeper meaning to Rena, she didn’t show it. “Lighten up, girly. Maybe it’s not.”

“All I’ve done is make a fool of myself,” lamented Y/N, throwing her empty satchel in the closet and collapsing onto her bed. “I’m just going to go back to what everything was before. This hasn’t changed anything. Now, Rena, I have a Potions exam to study for.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

~

Her interactions with Draco were few and far between in the following weeks. Sometimes she caught a few glimpses of a pale blonde head of hair as she walked down the halls to her classes, but nothing concrete, nothing even close to the amount of interaction they had while she was still bound to her rounds. 

It was certainly a punch in the gut--after all, she did spend a good portion of her academic career thirsting over him--but the sensible part of her knew that this was for the better. Her schoolwork became her top priority again, just like it had been the years before she was assigned to be his partner.

So, given this pattern of communication, it was fair to say that Y/N was completely and utterly flabbergasted when she saw Draco waiting by the entry of her common room at 11pm one night.

“Can I help you?” she asked as she shifted the books in her satchel to be secured over her shoulder.

“Yes, actually,” he said smoothly, not tripping over his words in the slightest. “I have rounds tonight.”

“I’m aware.” She hoped that he couldn’t hear her heart pounding the way that it was.

“And I’m out of Wide-eye potion.” 

“That really sucks,” Y/N said as she held up her hand on the door of the common room, uttering the riddle’s answer under her breath before she stepped in. 

“Wait!” His voice turned her around--it was pleading, almost desperate. “I have an exam tomorrow. No one in Slytherin has any. Snape would kick my arse for waking him up now. I know you have some left over since you never finished the rounds, and I--I understand if you don’t want to but it doesn’t have a very good shelf life anyways and I was hoping you’d...that you’d be alright with giving it to me.”

She paused, completely stunned. The most hopeful part of her wondered if he had made this up, but she squelched this with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of her. “Fine. Come with me, you must be freezing outside.” 

Y/N wasn’t wrong--the weather had taken a turn in the past few days to be bitterly cold--but it wasn’t like she’d object seeing him for any longer. She mentally cursed herself for being so weak-willed.

Draco looked pleasantly surprised at the suggestion and stepped into the common room with her, following her up until she reached the base of the stairs. “I’ll wait here.”

“If you’re comfortable,” she began, “I’d honestly prefer if you came with me. I don’t want to explain to anyone why I let you into our common room unsupervised.”

He looked like his mind was buffering the information for a second, standing with a glazed look in his eyes before he sucked in a breath and became the picture of confidence once again. “Want me in your room that bad?”

Yes.

“You wish.”

He scoffed as they climbed the stairs, Y/N a few steps above him. She thought that if she maintained the space he wouldn’t see how hard she was shaking and wondered where Rena was. Studying with Hermione like she told her she was? She hoped.

Y/N stopped in front of her door at the very end of the hall, decorated with a banner that had their names displayed in glittering bronze letters that moved in the light. “Ok. You can come in with me if you want--it might be a couple minutes since I don’t quite remember where it is.”

He looked amused with himself as she got out her wand and attempted to unlock her door with the specialized charm she and Rena had decided upon. Mortifyingly enough, her hand was too shaky to execute it.

“Hey, hey,” Draco tutted, holding his hand out. It enveloped hers and held her wand still as she muttered the incantation, unlocking the door and swinging it open. 

“Er...thanks,” she said. His hand was still over hers. 

Y/N broke the eye contact to dart through the door to a thankfully dark and empty room--if Rena had seen that, she never would’ve let her hear the end of that--and began rifling through her drawers as Draco shut the door and examined her room.

“You’re flustered,” he noted as she tipped over one of her candlesticks and just barely managed to catch it. “Is everything okay? Trouble in paradise, little Ravenclaw?”

“Like you care.” Y/N shut the desk drawer with an audible BANG. “And don’t call me that. Rowena Ravenclaw is rolling in her grave hearing you infantilize her good name like that.”

Draco laughed from his stance by her door--a sound that she hated to admit that she really missed. “I take back what I said. You certainly sound like yourself.”

Y/N’s fingers finally closed around the last bottle of Wide-Eye, which was quickly tossed to Draco. “Happy now?”

He sent her a strangely weak smile as he slipped the vial into his pocket, no doubt silk lined and expensive. “Sure. So this is goodbye? Actually?”

“I think...I think so.” 

Y/N had moved closer to him so only about a foot stood between them, a distance that felt like a mile from where she stood. 

This is goodbye.

Draco was making a motion to turn around and open the door when Y/N experienced the most severe lapse of judgement in the entirety of her 17 years.

She sprung forward, her fingers curling around the satiny soft fabric of his tie and pulling. Her motion was rough enough that he jolted forward, his eyes wide with surprise as Y/N closed in and pressed her lips to his in a very chaste and ungraceful movement. 

The split second that it took for her to realize the consequences of her actions was enough for her to let go completely and jump away, apologies readily falling out of her mouth in disjointed and clumsy collections. 

“I’m so sorry...Oh my god...I have no idea what got into me...Draco, I--”

Before she could finish, his hands were already cupping her face, his frame bent down the slightest so he could be more level with her. And he was--oh--he was kissing her, actually properly this time, without the tense closed-offness of her first attempt.

When Y/N imagined what it was like to kiss Draco Malfoy, she didn’t imagine him to be so soft. Or warm. Or gentle, or pliant, or whatever other good things he was to her as he snaked her arms around her and held her tight to him.

His kisses turned feverish, almost desperate as he turned her so she was pressed up between him and the wall. Everywhere his hands touched felt charged with electricity and energy, and as his hands traveled up and down her spine she decided that this must be what it’s like to die of happiness. 

“Draco,” she managed in between kisses, pulling away for air for just a moment and sliding back down so her feet touched the floor again. “Can we talk? About this?”

“Thanks,” he responded, his eyes glittering with endearment. “I almost forgot you were a Ravenclaw.”

“Shut up.” 

He grinned but made no effort to step away from her, instead choosing to drag his fingers up and down the side of her exposed neck. “What’s there to talk about? I like you, you like me, there’s nothing we need to do to complicate this further.”

“You...you what?”

“Yes, genius, what else did you think I was planning on telling you that day in the courtyard,” Draco said. “I’ve been avoiding you because I thought you were over me. That was horribly embarrassing, you know. Had to nurse my ego for weeks before I could garner up the courage to speak to you again.” He stopped to gently press the pad of his thumb into the little dimple she had in her left cheek, smiling uncontrollably as he moved his hand back to cup her face.

“How was I supposed to know that?” argued Y/N. 

“Isn’t this supposed to be the smart house?” he teased. 

She slapped his shoulder. “Don’t make me decide I don’t like you anymore.”

“Oh, so you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That you like me?”

“I’m going to scream.”

“Just from kissing me? Wow, I must be good.”

“I mean it!”

“So do I!”

Y/N gazed up at the boy in front of her for a few beats, admiring how the moonlight bounced off the silvery strands of his hair and how his smile reached every corner of his face. 

“I take back what I said,” she told him.

“Oh, and what is that?”

“This isn’t goodbye.”

He smiled again, leaning in close so his lips barely brushed her ear. “No. No, it isn’t.”

[duckieeart]

Victor’s - Moody Date

Hello! This is my entry for @little-butterfly-writes ‘s Contest . It’s my first time writing and I really enjoyed the process of it, enjoy reading this date!

Fandom: MLQC - Victor Li x Duckie (Mc)

Genre : jealousy jealousy jealousy , comfort , Filled with romance ( fluff)

Word count : 3,309

As If its not obvious enough to everybody.

I have feelings towards my boss, victor Li. I did fall in love with a person that I know i can’t reach even if i had him in my wildest dreams. I all i am wishing for is that no one know about these hidden feelings hoping that i will be able to maintain the decision i took and forget about him, But unfortunately things goes unplanned after I experienced certain feeling. jealousy .

If Kiki , Anna , the rest of my friends and colleagues found out about my secret feelings including the letters I wrote about victor secretly , I would get in big trouble , what letters you may ask? It’s simple. Basically, when i feel like I can’t control the love i feel towards him . I write down all my feelings in a letter and hide it somewhere , i got this idea from a movie i watched last year. At first , I haven’t thought not in a million years that I would use this idea and especially writing my unwanted feelings towards my CEO ,Aka victor li .

He was very strict and seemed to be very rude, i used to hate on him . He isn’t my type in men plus we’re completely different. Its not a big surprise since he is the CEO of an worldwide successful company ,LFG.

Just to clarify our differences. He made his company from the beginning meanwhile me, A young lady who inherited a show from her father once she Graduated from college. I didn’t even have an experience in life or the business field.

Everything were so difficult to me and it felt like an endless maze , the fact that I have him as my investor was like a miracle . Not only that but he really take good care of me . He is older in age , with a mature mindset . I am just young reckless, hesitant and inexperienced girl who just got a big position and so naive comparing to what she is responsible for .

I thought alot about giving up but victor make me change my mind and Instead of giving up he gave me the motivation to challenge him , i was in the mood to show him and prove to him that i can take the harsh responsibilities like an adult And be someone who is trust worthy enough to have his five hundred million investment in my show .

With time, i fall in love with him. And with everyday goes by it only grows bigger and bigger than the day before. The more i try to hide my feelings. The more it becomes obvious . When he confessed his feelings to me that day in the rooftop. I was beyond happy. I couldn’t sleep that day. But I quickly get back to the harsh reality, and remembered the huge gap between us, Victor deserve someone near to his position. Not me, comparing to him i am just a crybaby who rant about submitting reports and dealing with the deadlines every week .

But one day, I don’t know what’s goes inside my brain . I couldn’t even control my own body. When i found out that Victor would go to the awards banquet with another woman, I stopped thinking and I couldn’t care less about how weird i am behaving with my colleagues . In that night , i saw victor leaving the fancy banquet hall with another woman.

She looks way more mature and wiser than me. To put it in simple words she has everything i lack, and to my unfortunate luck. She does everything way better than me . And tonight , I witnessed My heart sinking in the ground. Its like i just got drenched in icy cold water in this snowy weather . I drank Alot . Wine, whiskey and even brandy . I couldn’t even recognize the bitterness in them . I just drink to be numb and ease my heart.

When the banquet came to an end ..

“ you two can head home first, its late . The weather is pretty today so i just want to walk and be alone for some time “ I spoke with a shaky voice tone, then left after grabbing my hand bag from the table.

“ whats wrong with our boss? She’s has been acting weird these few days especially today” Kiki spoke to anna.

Anna were worried as well , she just shrugs in confusion replying to kikis question.

“ i have never seen her like that before!” Anna added

“ it’s dangerous to let her be alone !, we can’t just leave her there! “ kiki said

“ she wanted time to get her self together, I think its very inappropriate for us to interrupt her wishes . * she smiled * Don’t worry minor would keep his eyes on her from afar “ Anna said while patting Kiki s shoulder gently to comfort her .

After leaving them. i rushed to the back beautiful garden to try and process everything happened tonight , the scenery were amazing but I couldn’t focus and appreciate it , I started regretting what i did, I shouldn’t push him away acting dumb and slow from the beginning. I love him more than anything, I admit i am very jealous and I don’t know how to deal with it because its my first time feeling this way about someone. I have never wanted someone as much I do for Victor.

These feelings were so exhausting to bear alone ,I was so hopeless that i even shared my story anonymously in tumbler with people but everyone advised me to stay away and forget about him for endless reasons. Yeah, they were right. But..

I also can’t… I CANT STOP LOVING HIM AND GIVE UP ON THIS . people wont have mercy on us and our relationship since we are a boss and worker in love but now seeing this . Realizing I might lose him forever. I don’t care, seeing him taking care of a random woman and accompanying her in the banquet really make me rethink about everything and even that thoughtful decision i took and was so confident about . I decided to head to the parking section for cars to follow them. I started running like crazy .

“GOD PLEASE PLEASE LET ME MAKE IT , PLEASE DONT LET THEM LEAVE TOGETHER ! . PLEASE.. I CANT LOSE HIM THIS TIME” i said begging .

I can lose anything and everything, but not him. I can’t lose Victor!

Because no one loved me like he did And I can’t imagine falling in love again with a different man.

Suddenly my foot slipped and i fall.

The expensive pair of high heel that i brought got ruined too. One of them broke But I couldn’t stop here! Im still in the middle of the way . My legs started be numb and it hurt a little because these shoes were new too , But I didn’t care, I can’t lose the path that can lead me to them! I still have to find Victor!

When i reached to the cars parking space , I couldn’t find them…

My nose suddenly started to burn and my eyes started sweating?, i decided to go back inside the banquet and sit . I couldn’t find chair there so I went to sit the corner on the stairs like a lost child. I started to cry heartily like a baby who lost her parents . But for me comparing to the baby I lost everything, I lost Victor..

My body is shaking and I couldn’t stop the thoughts in my mind. My mind went wild and started to even imagining how they would look together in the church . Kissing each other passionately after announcing them as a husband and wife. My heart suddenly started to beat so fast and I began to struggle breathing , while sobbing quietly.

Suddenly i felt a warm coat landed on my head, shoulders and has familiar manly scent ..

my face were swallowed, especially my eyes and nose. I was slow to react and realizing that this coat belongs to him…. And only him. Victor..

I felt strange feeling , i was happy and relieved that i was able to meet him again.. and that happiness give me strange feelings in my tummy . I believe that’s what they call “butterflies in the stomach” , I felt really warm. I don’t think it’s because of that coat. But him. Who give them his scent and body temperature

“ * sigh helplessly at the view* Dummy.. what are you doing here in this condition ? Don’t you know it’s dangerous area, especially in this hour? What if someone came for you ? Or even decided to kidnap you ,taking you away ? What are going to do? I searched everywhere for you and I couldn’t find you its like you weren’t in this earth from the beginning , WHERE THE HECK YOU WERE??? ………. But most importantly are you okay? Did something happen?……… Duckie , are you crying? “

my eyes couldn’t stop the tears from coming out when he were talking in such an sharp voice, he was really worried so he was furious to see me in such a state alone , but when he noticed that i was crying so hard, sniffing and wiping my eyes his voice turned so soft and calm

he grabbed my hands and hold them between his hands to warm them up

I refused to talk or face him because i wasn’t looking at my best right now, he just kneeled down to my level like prince charming and looked at me, he noticed how swallowed and red my face are.. he reached with his hands to hold my cheeks while massaging my under eyes

“ do they hurt A lot? “ he said quietly ,

I nodded while looking in the ground, my eyes fell upon his shoes trying to avoid his glare.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine too. Lets go home first … its getting late” he said..

I nodded because i was too tired to reply using sentences . I stand and remembered my broken heels and slightly injured foot.

Before I could explain, Victor carried me bridal style , I didn’t needed to explain anything. I felt warm , safe and happy, that I forget that I’m being held between his arms . I gave up to the warm sensation and fall asleep.

Victor put me in his car gently , wrapping my body with his big coat then went to grab hot tea and body warmers from the super market near by.

i took some time to wake up, when i wake up i was still in his car , the car was really warm. I didn’t find Victor on the driver seat so i looked outside.

i saw him tapping on his tablet working and answering calls . I also noticed that we’re near the sea and its 12am . I took my time appreciating the view , then i knocked at the window. Victor saw me and returned to the car.

“ you wake up, how do you feel now ? “ he asked with a soft voice

“ i am better now , sorry for making a scene back there. I was really upset about something so i was drunk , angry and upset thats why I decided to be alone , sorry i worried you and caused you trouble “i said while looking into his eyes.

“ dummy… And why did you drink? “ he said angrily ..

“ please don’t be mad i was just so upset, can’t you just allow me to drink only this time?” I said

“ yes, i am angry at you… but also glad to see you safe and better. After all , i can’t ask for more from dummy like you” victor said then poked the tip of my nose lightly with his fingers , after that he patted my head gently, smiling at me .

“ its late, let’s head home” he said

After few minutes driving i realized that we are in different path and its unfamiliar to me.

“ where are we going “ i asked hesitantly ..

“ to My home” he said

“ to your home??”

“Well, only if your apartment was nearby like my home. Its late already, just sleep tonight in my house” he said calmly

I nodded in agreement.

After few minutes we arrived.

Victor opened the door for me , i entered inside . His home was big but also felt so warm and cozy . Victor turned to face me “ go and take a hot shower, then dry your hair. Don’t get cold. I asked them to prepare you clothes. If you need anything ask me “ he said

i went to the room. It was big as expected and has a fancy bathtub. After i finished showering and preparing for bed. When i was about to head to sleep, I suddenly heard knocks on my door .

“Get in “ i said

The door was opened and it was victor, he was wearing his classic black pjs

“ as expected, you didn’t even dry your hair yet you headed to sleep anyways“ he said..

“What if you get cold?” He added

He went to grab a hairdryer from the drawer . Then turned to face me

“ come here” he said

I understand what he want so i sit and give him my back. He started to dry my hair, touching my hair so gently. After he finished drying my hair he took a hair tie and started to tie my hair.

“ there’s something I wanted to say to you” he said

“ hmm? “ I replied

“ i will get to the point “ he said

“ I might not know what exactly that got you so bothered like that , but you must know that there are a lot of circumstances in the world that are out of our control. The causes and reasons behind every circumstance is complicated. In a world where it’s impossible to know everything, it’s normal that we experience things we cannot understand and find difficult to accept. Even so, we have to accept it. There are many ways to accept it. Crying is also one of them. However, only for one night. ( he took my hand that was planning on reaching my face)…. And don’t rub your eyes, it will be better if you leave it and take a good sleep “ he added .

After leaving, he leaned to kiss my head .

“ good night “ he said

“ wait! “ i said

His eyes locked into mine , waiting for me to say what I want to say.

“ why did you went to the banquet, with her? “ i couldn’t stop my curiosity so i asked him .

He chuckled quietly then pinned my chin forcing me to look at him..

“ you jealous? “ he said

A bold idea came up to me ,

“Yes..i am! “ I didn’t wasted time and answered his question seriously.

He was frozen in his place , stopped chuckling and has a surprised face expression .

I gathered all my courage to say the three most difficult words ..

“ i love you victor! “ i said , while looking into his face..

then reached to his face and give him a quick peck on his lips ..

“ don’t make me feel this way again, I hate it !“ i said and then went for another kiss . But He didn’t kiss me back , still surprised by my bold move.

“ when i saw how you looked to her when she was talking to you . You were smiling while and looking into her eyes , I wondered if you ever started to lose your feelings towards me , i was really scared of losing you.. i even started to imagine how you would look in your groom suit .. standing beside her in front of everyone… i was so scared “ my voice cracked at the end.. i felt the tears forming in my eyes

“ I really… really don’t want to lose you . I did my research about her, She won countless times and even has the f-“ my speech were cut off with his hot kiss .

He closed his eyes and rested his one hand on the back of my head and the other on my neck.

He pulled his lips away from mine when he noticed how i was struggling to breathe.

“ … you talk too much” he said while maintaining his sharp eyes on me.

“Since when you had these thoughts on that little brain of yours? Instead of using it on useless things, apply this effort and worry about your unfinished weekly report instead. You thought I haven’t noticed how distracted you were ?“ Victor said.

“ relax dummy , Lili is just an older sister to me. She asked if i can company her since her husband on business trip outside china. Lili is busy in work but also dealing with three kids at the same time. I was just helping her manage the deal she had with SJ company , you don’t have to worry that little head of yours on such matters “ victor added.

“ Duckie, i searched for you, and luckily after 10017 years i was able to meet you again. The little head of yours could never imagine how bad I wanted to see that silly smile of yours again. I waited for so long , and you better make it up to me. In other words , Be mine” victor said , while holding my left cheek and went for another breathless kiss ..

“ i —-love —-you——-, Dummy “ he said between his kisses ..

“ don’t close your eyes, look at me when iam talking to you. You know that i love when you’re bold with me, right?” he said smiling at me then slightly biting my lower lip ..

“I was so happy when i met you, in the end of the banquet . I thought you went with her“ i said while having a big silly smile on my face

“ There is only one thing you should be happy about……. It has always been you and only you” he said while looking at my eyes and holding my hot blushing cheeks in his big hand .

After making out sessions for straight two hours , he lay me down on the bed pulling the quilt over my body.

“ go to sleep, and NEVER think about theses useless matters . if you want to ask me something Just ask me directly ... Goodnight dummy” he said ..

“Good night” i replied softly

He smiled then give me a final forehead kiss and went outside the room after dimming the lights ..

In the next day i went to LFG to submit my weekly report , suddenly i received a call from Kiki

“ boss, i made a surprise for you!! you are going to thank me for it . Don’t overthink about it, and just enjoy the surprise” she said while giggling in mischievous manner.

She closed the call, i was nervous and curious at the same time but I didn’t pay much attention on that because I didn’t have much time left, i have weekly report to submit! . I hurried to victors office and luckily I arrived on time but I found my secret love letters has been opened on victors office already and he had one of them on his hand , taking his time reading it while drinking his coffee ..

he noticed me standing near the door , surprised and embarrassed . Victor smirked in anticipation

“ You have a lot of explainings to do , Producer Duckie “ he said while giving me smirky face

what a Great start to my day.

The End

Thank you for reading, see you next time!

[averagejoesolomon]

Phew, I have GOT to learn how to write these chapters in less than 3,000 words. Thanks for waiting! Here's one of the most important chapters of the whole book! Sure hope I didn't blow it! If you're new here, you can read Full Circle in full on Ao3. Enjoy! Oh, also: TW for minor use of religious themes

Chapter Fourteen

The sun rises on the Lincoln Memorial as the crowds begin to build.

Light shimmers across the Reflecting Pool, casting the Memorial’s grand staircase in a sharp, golden glow that doesn’t quite reach beyond the marble threshold. Matthew Morgan waits at the top of a mountainous climb, lost among a collection of towering pillars. He shares his presence with the shadows, but he hardly needs their company. His cover is found among the amateur historians, the early morning joggers, and the everyday American citizen.

He dissolves easily into the echoing conversations and the flashes of Polaroids. Tourists toss around languages that don’t hold a place in Hay Springs, but he understands them anyway. Neither the school kids nor their chaperones pay him any mind, and he belongs here. He belongs everywhere.

The ceiling soars high above, framing his steady stature into something small. The entire chamber stretches well beyond him in just about every way imaginable—in body, in spirit, in mind, and in time itself. He looks upon stately letters carved into stone, once spoken by a man far greater than he will ever be.

“‘This nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.’” The voice crawls up behind him, paired with footsteps born of wealthy shoes. “We simply don't talk like that anymore, do we, Mr. Morgan?”

Director Smith has traded in his usual suit and tie for a simple button-down. Even through Matt’s periphery, the sight feels strange, but this moment calls for casual. “Is this location clean?” Matt asks, eyes steady on the wall in front of him.

“Cleaner than my office,” says Smith, falling into place at Matt’s side. The pair of them stand wedged between two monstrous columns, two men up against something far bigger than themselves. “Which, at the moment, is home to enough bugs to rival the Natural History Museum’s collection.”

Matt keeps his gaze leveled on the inscription, reading over the same words for the dozenth time. “And you’re clean?”

“Believe it or not,” says the director, “this is not my first clandestine rendezvous.”

A certain sternness outlines Smith’s words and at once, Matt remembers who he’s talking to. This ain’t amateur hour. This is the Director of Operations, and his pops taught him better than this. “Sorry, sir,” he says. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Yes you did,” says Smith, a serene smile stretching over his lips. “But that’s quite alright. You’re on edge. I’ve brought you to one of the most public places in DC, to have one of the most covert conversations in DC, and these aren’t ideal circumstances for even the most veteran agents.”

On edge. No. Not likely. On edge is a cow late for labor. On edge is an unexpected rain, threatening to flood out fresh seed. On edge is creeping through his mama’s hallways after curfew, praying she don’t hear the floorboards creak. Matt’s spent enough time on the edge to know that he jumped over it months ago, and he’s been hurtling toward a rocky bottom ever since. It’s high time he reached the end of all this, if only so he doesn’t have to keep falling.

“I’ll admit,” Matt says, “I was mighty surprised when I received word of this location.”

Smith tucks his hands in his pockets and circles back toward the center of the chamber. Matt doesn’t follow, but maintains a visual of the director as he admires the surrounding marble work. After some time, Matt closes the distance, but doesn’t hover. The two of them walk separately, but together, among a sea of unsuspecting strangers.

“It’s true—I wouldn’t normally choose a location like this, but I’ve heard that public settings are something of a strong suit for you.” They gravitate toward one another once more, and the scene looks easy. Coincidental. “And plus,” Smith goes on, “there’s something to be said for being in the presence of great men.”

Matt’s focus is scattered across stone as he notices everything he can about his environment. He notices a couple holding hands as they read over the engraved walls. He notices a black labrador, dressed in a smart, red harness. He notices children falling just a little too close to the barrier ropes and he notices as the adults shoo them away. There’s an undeniable comfort in knowing that he can blend in so easily with such a chaotic crowd, but it’s accompanied by an equal unease in knowing that someone else could do the same.

It’s a testament to the true split of his attention that the twenty-foot shrine entirely escapes him. He only looks up because he spots Smith doing the same. “It’s strange, don’t you think?” says Smith, admiring the statue. “The way we immortalize men? The way we can turn some into god-like legends?”

Matt examines the bearded face and the inscription above, speaking of temples, and hearts, and salvation. His next words are a habit. A home. A belief so deeply struck into him that to remove it would be to remove a very piece of himself. “‘I am the Lord thy God. Thou shalt have none other gods before Me.’”

“Old Testament.” Smith eyes him, and Matt does his best not to meet the gaze. “It’s rare for a man your age to speak with such devotion.”

“Only that it’s the very first commandment, sir,” says Matt. “In a list of ten, He put that one at the top. The least I can do is remember it.”

“Even so,” says Smith. “It’s admirable.”

“I’m a simple man,” he says, and he doesn’t shrug. He doesn’t shift. Their conversation happens through words alone. “I don’t honor any man above God, no matter how great, just the same as I don’t hang another flag above the stars and stripes. That’s just not how it’s done.”

Smith takes a single step closer to the statue. Then another. It takes skill to hold such a delicate conversation among this crowd, and even more skill to wear a smile through it all. “I’ve always enjoyed your loyalty,” he says. “I could spot it on you from the moment we first met, and you’ve only proven me right ever since.”

Matt nods, once. It’s all he can spare. “Thank you, sir.” He tucks his own hands into his pockets. “My mama would be awfully proud to hear you say so.”

The closer Smith gets to the statue, the smaller he looks, leaving Matt behind to watch as he shrinks before legend. “And while we’re on the subject of loyalty,” he says, coming back around, “I can’t help but notice that Mr. Solomon isn’t with you today.”

He’s falling. Falling, falling, falling toward the end of it all. “No sir.”

“You two are usually attached at the hip, are you not?”

He’ll surely split into a million pieces upon impact. “Yessir.”

“Is there something you’d like to tell me, Mr. Morgan?”

It ain’t a question. Matt feels it in his Army training, his intelligence training, and in all of his unofficial training back home. Sometimes questions are really just orders in disguise. “Rest assured, sir,” he says, “I’m not gonna like a single moment of this.”

Smith makes another pass around the chamber, as though giving Matt a chance to catch his breath. His movements are flawless, swaying when he should, stepping in the right places, and flying completely under the radar. Not for the first time, Matt realizes that Smith is good. He has to be.

When they meet again, Matt knows he has to get it out before his throat tightens up on him. “I have reason to suspect that our agency mole is working with the Circle of Cavan.”

Some words are so covert that they cannot be said aloud. Some words are cold enough to send a chill into the bones of every agent they touch, and the risk of speaking them into the world is never worth the chance that someone else might hear them. There are many reasons why spies speak in code, but chief among them is because some words simply aren’t meant to see the light of day.

If the Circle of Cavan is among these forbidden phrases, then Smith does nothing to show it. Though it felt heavy coming from Matt’s mouth, it lands on Smith without weight. “You’re aware that the Circle of Cavan is something of a fairytale in our business? Not many people consider it a serious threat.”

“Due respect, sir, those people are wrong.” All at once, it falls from him. Every scrap of information, every line of research, every late night spent putting the pieces together. His secrets spill out of him. This argument has been in him for weeks now, taking up space in his lungs, and it’s a relief to finally breathe once more. “Now I know I’m a newcomer to all of this, but I think we need to seriously consider that this organization has been operating under our noses for some time now, maybe even back to its Civil War origins. If we don’t begin to treat them as a credible threat to democracy, they’re just going to keep funneling information to God-knows-who—but my bet is on the communists. I know we’re working up against ghost stories, but I think—”

“I think you’re right.”

“But sir, if you would just listen—” He stops. The words twist around his tongue, sending him tripping, fumbling, until the thoughts finally land where they should. “I’m sorry, did you just say—?”

“I think you’re right, Mr. Morgan.” Matt spends a whole lot of time convincing himself that he’s wrong. He’s not quite sure what to do, now that his suspicions have been confirmed. “We’re in a new era of spycraft, brought on by a type of war that we’ve never seen before. It has emboldened a number of our enemies, and I would not be surprised to find that the Circle was among them. If they get any real power, we’ll see a significant change to the way the world operates.”

The part of him that trained with Joe Solomon is telling him to notice things, but he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be noticing. If anything, this conversation is far easier than he ever anticipated. “So you agree that this is a considerable threat?” he says. “The Circle?”

Smith’s patience is clear in his features, but there’s a wear to him. A warning. “Ioseph Cavan nearly toppled the American government with the single shot of a pistol,” he says, and Matt can’t draw his eyes away from Lincoln’s statue as he says it. “At the time of their inception, the Circle only had access to the weapons of their day—rifles and sabers, mostly. Now we’ve created bombs big enough to blow us all into extinction. Imagine what they could do with that sort of power.”

“Well now, hold on,” says Matt. “This nuclear stalemate is between us and the Soviets. The Circle doesn’t have access to that kind of weaponry.”

“Don’t they?” Smith asks. “Who’s to say the Circle isn’t working with the Soviets? Who’s to say they’re not working domestically? And who’s to say that they’re not somewhere behind the curtain, pulling the strings on both sides?”

“Ain’t that a bit of a stretch?” Matt’s mind wanders to Moscow, wondering if maybe he should have spent more time looking over both shoulders, when he’s only been looking over the one. “What would agents of the Confederacy want with an international conflict?”

Smith doesn’t even have to think about his answer. “Greatness.”

“Excuse me?”

“Greatness, on a legendary scale,” Smith explains “Their men want to become great, god-like tales, and great men are only produced by war.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“No?” Smith’s hands stay in his pockets, but his voice seems to gesture around the entire chamber. “Look around, Mr. Morgan. Lincoln alone was not great. It was his circumstances that made him great. His war. It was his men and their individual actions that made him great. Do you believe it to be a coincidence, that America’s most significant war also produced its most prominent historical legend?”

“The war didn’t make him great, the end of it did.”

“You cannot have an end without a beginning,” Smith reminds him. “Perhaps they believe that a war between a single nation was not big enough. Perhaps they believe today’s great men require global conflict. It’s hard to say for certain—especially without a source on the inside.”

His stomach drops to his belt, and he’s falling once more. He always seems to be falling. This is his only chance, before his hope wrangles a lasso around his neck for one final time. “Joe is Circle.” He blurts it out, and it tastes like rust, scraping against his mouth. “That’s our source on the inside. That’s our mole. He’s been feeding information to his Circle contacts right under our noses—right under my nose.”

For a moment, Smith drops his cover. He drops his perfect stance and his inconspicuous sidestep. He drops his lingering glances and lands, instead, directly on Matt. Consideration brims from each of his features as he studies Matt, caught in the squint of his eyes, the pinch in his lips, and the strong set of his jaw.

Finally, he turns back to the statue. “I had my suspicions.”

Boom. Impact.

“You—” Again, words fail Matt with every breath. “I’m sorry, you what?”

“Mr. Morgan, please try to give me some credit,” he says, returning to that easy speech he finds such comfort in. “I’ve had my suspicions about Joseph Solomon for some time now, but I haven’t been able to conduct a proper investigation without tipping him off. He’s quite talented, particularly in countersurveillance.”

One second at a time, the world begins to make a little more sense. With each word Smith gives him, Matt comes to realize answers to questions he never knew he had. This is why Matt was put on the assignment. This is why it couldn’t be anyone else. Even the ease of today’s conversation begins to make more sense once Matt realizes that the director has known all of his secrets from the start.

“So,” Matt says, realization unfolding in real-time, “you sent me into this op knowing that I’d be able to get closer to him than anyone else.”

Matt lived with him. Matt befriended him. Matt understood him. “And it seems you were successful,” Smith says.

Joe likes to say that there may be honor among spies, but there is no trust. Normally, Matt will brush this off the usual doom-and-gloom stoicism for which Joe is known, but it feels particularly apt in this moment. He’s been made into an asset against his will, by the agency that owns his life. This time, he was working for the good guys, but a bile bubbles up at the base of his stomach, wondering if he could be just as easily manipulated by the bad.

It’s a lesson Joe’s been trying to teach him from the start, but sometimes Matt learns best by doing things the hard way. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“I could have been wrong.” Smith says it with a shrug, as though it’s so simple. As though any of this could ever be simple. “The last thing I needed was one agent falsely incriminating another. If there’s anything worse than a mole, it’s infighting. A house divided, after all…”

His heart beats up against his chest. His face turns flush. His knees are weak and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to stand. “So then, what’s next? Are we—do we—?” The questions don’t come, which is just as well. He only has one that he truly cares about. “What’s going to happen to Joe?”

It’s the question that weaves its way into his nightmares, sinking into every inch of sleep. Despite his best efforts, he’s lost hours by imagining the worst. Once this gets out, Joe will have two sides working against him, and not even he can run fast enough or far enough to avoid both. He’ll be fired, fined, and put on trial. He’ll be imprisoned, exposed, and possibly killed.

But Director Smith doesn’t say any of that. “With any luck, he switches to our side.”

Matt blinks. “I don’t understand.”

Smith’s smile makes a subtle return. “CIA has been trying to understand the Circle of Cavan for decades—over a century, now,” he explains. “But they operate so tightly that we haven’t learned much since their inception. If he works with us, Mr. Solomon could become one of our most valuable assets to date.”

And there’s that hope again, fleeting. “But how do you plan to bring him over?”

Smith wanders on his heels, turning toward the front of the chamber, where the sun has finally risen all the way into the sky. “Your job is to bring opposing assets to our side, is it not, Mr. Morgan? It’s your job to build up their trust and convince them to pledge their loyalty to the United States?” He begins walking away and, this time, he won’t be coming back. “I want Joseph Solomon on my side. It’s your job to make sure that happens.”

“Sir?”

“This is your chance at greatness, Mr. Morgan.” He calls it out over his shoulder, their meeting no longer covert. With the smooth slip of his sunglasses, Smith starts down the stairs, growing smaller and smaller against the massive chamber. “Should you decide that you want it.”

The offer seems to shimmer against the marble, carving into the stone that builds Lincoln's throne from the bottom up. The possibility hangs heavy in the air of the Memorial, with the promise to live as a legend. Greatness, within reach.

But Matt doesn’t want greatness. Right now, for better or for worse, Matt just wants Joe.

[baglove]

(via cat lovers Pet Bandana by mohammed elhachimi)

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