#I hope you enjoy our special banner designs!

[choochooboss]

October Magma event approaching!!

Choo chooOOOoo...! "A swift, chilly autumn wind sweeps past you. As soon as it fades, a letter lands by your feet. You look down and notice that the fancy looking envelope bears your name. You get a little nervous not seeing who sent it.

You flip the sealed envelope in your hands a few times while thinking what to do about it. Eventually your curiosity wins and you decide to open it up. It reads...

"Pasio Glamour Fest. Starting on Saturday, October 28th-30th. At Magma mansion. We are expecting you."

It's time for another monthly Magma event! Wooo!! Here is the event guide, make sure to check it out!

Main event theme: design a special costume OR a Sygna suit for any official Pokémon character(s) and draw them strike a pose!

What's a sygna suit you may ask? For those who don't play Pokémon Masters EX: it's a stylish costume themed after the character's partner pokémon! However, the pokémon doesn't have to be originally in the character's team, so you can choose your inspiration freely and make them pose together!

Please don't worry about picking the same character/pokémon as others. I believe each of your design will be unique! You can also pick a pokémon the character is already partnered with, like sygna suit Emmet & Archeops!

Halloween themed costumes are appreciated but not required! Also they don't need to be cool and stylish, you can go totally silly and/or cute with it! If you don't want to make your own design or nothing pops in your mind, you can make the character cosplay as other characters (can be outside games/Pkmn series). Just write down in the piece who they're dressing up as!

You can draw as many designs as you like, but you can reserve up to two slots at the start: if your pieces reach the coloring phase/show good progress, you can reserve more slots!

If you already have a design prepared, you can use that no problem! Working on your ideas in advance is recommended! Not sure if I've mentioned this before, but you can draw your piece in other art program than Magma (or traditionally) if that suits you better! Just make sure to DM me your piece(s) by the end of October 30th!!

For free doodle session we will have a dedicated page for ghost type pokémon! We also have a grandiose ballroom for your OCs & favourite characters to enjoy the spooky atmosphere and show off their moves. I also hear there is a mischievous little witch running around & turning naughty people into joltiks..! Trick or treat?

All aboard!! I hope you'll have a spooktacular time with us!

[fluffenough]

letter to the furby community

honestly, im very disappointed in the furby community's reaction to the recent furby release. I completely understand disappointment, and i even get how this furby in so many ways differs from the things that make '98s (and 05s) so special. however, the hatred ive seen spewed towards the furby and the owners and enjoyers of the furby really shock me. As a fandom who notoriously puts banners or disclaimers on posts on tumblr not to call their furby creepy or insult it because it is special to them...  ithought we as a community were very anti-cringe culture. ive seen all kinds of "cringy" customs, and a lot of us are neurodivergent and have been hurt by this behavior. so why on earth are we going back to 2010 and insulting a design by calling it a "sparkledog" for being too colorful for you? realistically, how many of us collect JUST the first generation of 1998 furbies without any customization? we are a community who celebrates colorful, exciting, and over the top customizations. just because this furby isn't a snowball to start with, why are we sending it and the people who enjoy it hate? how would you feel if someone said the things you are saying about the 2023 furby about your furbies? ive seen people comment hateful things on people's posts about their 2023 furbies, and in general the community treatment of it is rancid.

honestly its especially wild to me given the hate various generations of furby have gotten through the years, and the way its hurt people who have enjoyed those. i thought at this point wed moved past that. i joined the fandom in 2018 and the hate for anything not 98 (boom,connect, 05) was pretty rampant. but nowadays, we seem to love every generation of furby despite their differences and flaws. why are we hating on this poor new furby in the family?

look. we are all entitled to our opinions. im hardly saying this has been a smooth release on hasbros part- and im not saying this massive company needs our sympathy. but the people who love this furby? they deserve just as much respect as any other furby collector.

as a 2023 furby lover, please use empathy and compassion and be a bit kinder to collectors who love this furby. in general, the constant bashing on it as someone who really loves it and is excited to get one is very discouraging. we as a community are better than this.

so stop the hate and spread love. cringe culture is toxic. lets make this a happy place. i know there's only so much my words as a single person can do, but i hope if you read this that perhaps it's made you think.

TL;DR- if you wouldnt want that commented on a post about your furby, why the hell are you commenting it on a post about the 2023 furby?

[maeve-writes]

Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI 

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes. 

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers. 

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm. 

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory. 

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone. 

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.” 

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue. 

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside. 

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed. 

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged. 

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild. 

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves. 

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests. 

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement. 

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously. 

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him. 

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress. 

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights. 

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention. 

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go. 

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold. 

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

[gayaristocrat]

I Got Everything I wanted...

Episode 1: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience...

Pairing: Vision x Male Reader

Taglist: N/A

‼️Authors Note‼️: I'm finally at a point where I can write this story. I know that It is long overdue, so I hope this can make up for it. This story is going to be breaking the 4th wall a lot since they tend to do that in the actual show. Also, please let me know in my Inbox/Askbox if you would like to be tagged every time I upload a story to this series. While reading this, you may realize that it seems rushed, and that's because it was. I wanted to put this out as soon as I possibly could. Also since you guys voted that I just divide it up into parts for you to read. I will be uploading part 2 whenever I am able to.

Summary: (Male Name) and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during dinner with Vision's boss and his wife

Time Period: 1956 (So everything in this chapter is going to be colorless and in black and white)

Word count: 4k+

Word Key:

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Have you ever dreamed of living the life you always wanted? Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where you would do anything to get it. Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where all of your care for others went out the window? Have you ever dreamed of wanting something so bad to the point where you would stop anyone who gets in your way.

"(Male Name), I love you so much. Please don't do this, cant you see that everyone is hurting, that everyone is in so much pain?"

"I'm sorry Vision, but I can't. I can't loose you...not again. I never meant for things to be this way, but now I can't go back. Not without you"

---REWIND MANY EPISODES BACK---

For a second, everything is black. The TV clicks on and a burst of grey static illuminates the screen. Everything is black and white, not a single drop of color is in the area. A happily little tune starts playing as a colorless 1956 Buick Special drives up a tiny hill and back down past a sign which says 'Speed Limit 35'. The camera angle changes to the back of the car, showing a banner above the license plate, 'Just Married'. Next, the camera cuts to us, (Male Name) and Vision, newlywed husbands.

It finally happened, we finally got married! Both of us turn take a quick look and smile at each other with nothing but love and glee, it seemed like nothing could go wrong in this moment.

🎵Oh~

A newlywed couple just moved into town,

A regular husband and husband,🎵

Vision turns his head back to the road and continues driving until we turn down a happy little neighborhood. Each house on the street has a pattern of different color greys with black roofs, their yards decorated with equally bland colorless flowers and grass. Children playing outside, and adults chatting with one another while they tend to their gardens, or while walking their dogs. Everyone is just so cheery and happy, even the mailman waves at us as we pass him. Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, perfect.

🎵Who left the big city,

To find a quiet life,

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

Vision drives into the driveway of our new home. We quickly hop out of the car and approach the house, but before we walk in I take notice of the 'For Sale' sign still in the yard. I quickly flick my hand and use my magic to change the sign to 'Sold'. After that I dust my hands off with a proud smile on my face as Vision scoops me in his arms bridal style, opens the front door, and carries me inside. I flick my wrist again and the front door closes and locks as we both move to the Livingroom of our already decorated 2 story home.

🎵He's a magical boy,

In a small town locale

And a hubby who's part machine,

How will this duo fit in and pull through?🎵

Once Vision puts me back on my feet, we start swaying with the jingle playing in the background while title cards pop up of written words that I don't care to read right now since I'm too busy enjoying this happy moment with my new husband. Vision then gives me a little twirl before wrapping his arms around my waist as we both dip into a loving heartfelt kiss.

🎵Oh, by sharing a love,

Like you've never seen

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

---SCENE CHANGE---

The scene suddenly changes as the lights flick on and cameras start rolling. You start the scene off by walking into the kitchen and start making your way to one of the grey drawers next to the oven and you grab one of your favorite aprons. Humming a little tune, you wrap the white cloth around your waist and start observing the kitchen to see what needs to be picked up or cleaned. Deciding to work on putting up the dishes, you raise your hand and the newly cleaned plates start levitating off of the counters and float off to the display racks, you then raise your other hand and a dark colored dish cloth floats out of the cabinet and it begins drying a glass cup. You then turn your back to the cup to observe if it had been cleaned good enough, suddenly you jump as a loud crash echoes through out the kitchen. Turn to see what the problem is, you only to find Vision looking up from today's news paper and glances at the shattered plate at the ground while a laughing crown erupts out of nowhere.

"My husband and his flying saucers" He says in his thick English accent (or is it British🤔), with a joking tone.

"My husband and his indestructible head" I reply back in the same tone as another laugh erupts from the crowd.

He then folds his newspaper and walked over to your direction, giving you a kiss on the cheek when he arrived, causing you to chuckle while twirling your finger, making the plate form back to it's original round shape before it floats off to it's designated spot.

"Vision, honey, what do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orang juice and black coffee?" You say while walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and bending down, getting ready to grab out everything needed to make the meal for him.

"I'd say 'Oh, I don't eat food' " He says smiling at me, while the crown laughs again.

You look inside the fridge and hum to yourself in surprise while putting all the pieces together in your head before saying "Well, that explains the empty refrigerator then"

"(Male Name), my darling. Is there something special about today?"

"Well, I know the apron is a bit much dear, but I'm doing my best to blend in and have the 'Perfect House Husband' look." You say walking to meet him, assuming he's talking about the apron.

"No no, you don't have to try, you already are the perfect house husband." He says as he lightly grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and lightly giving you a 'boop' on the nose. "But I was referring to the calendar. Someone's drawn a heart right above today's date." You then looked at him as you cluelessly try to figure out what he's talking about, so he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around to face the calendar behind you and he rests his chin on your head as you both look at the heart.

Trying to act like you know what day it is, you say "Well...d..dont tell me you've forgotten Vis?"

"Oh silly (y/n), I'm incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That's not an exaggeration. In fact, I'm even incapable of exaggeration" He rambles boastfully.

"Hmm, well then if that's true, then maybe you can tell me what's so important about today's date"

He pauses for a second and thinks before he blows a slow puff of air out of his mouth, then deciding on saying "Uhhh...what was the question again? Oh well, no matter, perhaps you've forgotten yourself"

"Me? Heavens, no, haha. I've been so looking forward to it."

You both have actually been looking forward to day. Today you are celebrating...The first time you...uhhh...have ever celebrated this occasion before. It's a special day indeed, perhaps an evening?...of great significance?...to you both, naturally.. obviously...exactly! Well done for the both of you.

You two ramble on for a few more minutes trying to drill the other into spilling on what was so special about today, but you two couldn't since you were both obviously unknowing about it, then Vision remembered something.

"Well, sorry darling, that's me off to work, then." Vison says fixing his grey suit jacket and grabbing his suitcase walking to the front door. You quickly grab his hat hanging on the coat rack and place it on his head, fixing it to make it look straight.

"Also don't forget-"

"(Male Name), my dear how many times do I have to tell you I don't forg- oh you mean my face right?"

You nod letting him know that was what you were getting at. The audience laughs again as he quickly shakes his head and his face and hands transform from cold metal to warm flesh. Vision then puts his palm to his face and pretends to blow you a kiss, while you play along and pretend to catch it and put it over your heart.

Once he leaves out the door, you lock it a return to the kitchen, and make your way to the calendar, chewing on your polished nails (if you don't want nail polish then skip that part) as you try to remember the symbolism of the heart. Not even a second later your thoughts get interrupted as a loud knock at the door startles you back to 'reality'.

Going to go see who it is, you push the door that separates the living room and the kitchen, closer to the knocking. You quickly open the door and see a woman with a dark plaid dress and a styled black hairdo holding a grey plant in a white pot.

"Oh hello, dear. I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours" She says in a sing-song tone as she uninvitedly makes her way into the house. The eruption of cackles echo as you look at her in confusion as to why she decided to step inside, but decided to keep a calm attitude and not say anything about it.

"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town...so I wasn't!" she says laughing with the audience once more as her dress sways with her movements. She rushes the potted plant into your arms and you smile and take it as she makes her way into the living room to continue her snooping. "So what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly how's your bridge game, hon?" She says not loosing a single breath, and of course not giving you time to answer in between questions.

"Umm...Well I'm (Male Name)" You say reaching your hand out to shake hers

"(Male Name)? Charmed!" She joyfully says and returns the gesture.

"Golly, you sure do settle fast! Yes sir you did indeed! Did you use a moving company?"

"Why I sure did. Those boxes don't move themselves." The audience laughs as your inside joke, because let's be honest, the boxes did move themselves since you used your magic to decorate everything. (Damn (Male Name), you really are a powerful sum' bitch)

'"So (Male Name), what's a single boy like you doing rattling around this big house?" She says siting on the couch.

You laugh to yourself and dreamily look at the finger your ring should be on that Vision gave you to claim you as his, (He liked it so he put a ring on it.....sorry...anyways) but paused as it wasn't there. That's not right, because you could have sworn that it was there when you created this rea-

"Oh no, I'm not single I-"

"Well I don't see a ring

"Well I can promise you, I am indeed married...To a man. A human one and tall too! A a matter of fact, he'll be home later tonight for a special occasion just the two of us." You say putting emphasis on 'occasion' with a wink.

"Oh is it somebody's birthday? A holiday?" Agnes questions bouncing up and down in the couch with her legs crossed like a 'proper lady'.

"Well, no and no"

"An anniversary then?"

"Ye-uhh...yes, Its our anniversary!" You shout, finally able to remember what that heart meant.

Agnes waves you over to come sit on the couch with her and you obey, sitting down she grabs and rests both sets of you two's clasped hands on your apron.

"Sooo...tell me, how many years" She asks letting out a little squeal.

"Well..uhhh..it...it uh feels like we've always been together"

"You lucky man-" She shakes her head remembering about her own husband "-the only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer names June 2nd." She chuckles as the audience laughs from nowhere again. "So what do you have planned?"

"How do you mean?" You questioned her. I mean you never really did have time to come up with anything since you just realized, or assumed, what today was.

"For your special night, (Male Name)! A young boy like yourself doesn't have to do much, but it's still fun to set the scene. Say-" she says standing up to slowly make her way to the door "-I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called 'How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband', and let me tell you somethin'...what Ralph could really use is, 'How to Goose Your Wife So You Don't Loose Your Your Wife'. She kidd's as her and the audience laugh. You look at her and shake your head trying to hold back your own laughter. "Hang on, I'll go grab it and we can start planning. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!" She shouts running to the door so she can leave and run to her house.

-----Time Skip---

Both Agnes and you are back on the couch, looking through her magazines trying to find ideas for the anniversary dinner you planned for you and Vision to share, when out of nowhere, the phone started ringing interrupting you two. You got up and rushed over to it hoping you don't miss the unknown caller, you pick it up and put it to your ear and then start talking.

"Vision residence how may I help you"

"(Male Name), darling I-"

"Vision, my dearest husband. How are you sweetheart?" You say cutting him off from his obviously panicked and frantic voice. I mean come on, you are just excited to hear your husband's voice after a hours of him being gone.

"Listen about tonight-"

You cut him off again, already knowing that he was going to talk about the anniversary. "Don't worry, dear, I have everything under complete control"

"Oh, well, that is a relief. I must confess, I'm really rather nervous" He says over the phone.

"Nervous? Whatever for?" You question.

"Well, you know, darling, I still get a little tongue-tied."

The audience coo's and aww's at how a dust of grey creeps up on your (dark grey/grey) cheeks. "Vis, after all this time..." you giggle out.

"There's a lot riding on this (Male Name)! If tonight doesn't go just so, I think this could be the end.

'Wait what' you think to yourself

"Well, it's just one night. There's no need to get dramatic." You say in a worried tone as you grasp your now queasy stomach.

Vision's tone begins to get more serious as the conversation continues in his attempt to express how important this is to you. "Look, I think the best course of action is to impress the wife."

"Well, first, I think you mean husband. And secondly I also think the best course of action is to impress the other husband too." You look over and give Agnes a thumbs up and a wink in her direction, and she does the same while sipping her martini.

"Glad to know we're both on the same page, love. Until tonight, then, my sweet little husband" Vision says making two smooching noises through the phone to you.

"Until tonight...my robotic husband" You return, whispering the last part so Agnes doesn't hear you. She couldn't hear you anyways, being too busy sipping her drink and flipping through the pages. You finally gently put the phone on the hook and return to the couch.

---Time Skip, Later Tonight---

Before Vision made it home, you set the big dining table that was next to the living room and tossed colorless silk scarfs on all of the laps in the room to set the mood and made your way to the bedroom to get dressed to surprise him for when he gets home. When you heard the door open and heard his voice, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, dressed a long fluffy white lingerie robe with white fur that wrapped around the arms of it which was trailing behind you, exposing both of your (dark grey/grey) legs. You then went all the way to Vision's black silhouette and gently wrapped your hands around his eyes, causing him to jump form the sudden contact.

The audience laughed again as they know your mistake. 'Where the hell is that laughing coming from, and whey is it happening right now of all times?' you thought to yourself in confusion.

"Guess who~" you seductively whispered to your husbands.

Suddenly the lights turn on and you hear Vision's voice that was filled with a mix of shock, embarrassment, and irritation at your recklessness. "(MALE NAME) WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

You gasp and look in his direction. "Vision? What are you-" then it hit's you, if Vision is right there, then who's-

"Oh! Oh my stars, I'm so sorry!" You say to the man you mistook for your husband. You quickly uncover his eyes and stumble away from him as he stares at you in shock. Then you look down at your attire and try to cover your exposed leg as much as possible.

"What is the meaning of this!" The bald headed mad says appalled, as his wife stands behind him looking around cluelessly.

Vision interrupts with his stammering voice just as confused as everyone else. "Well..uh yeah (Male Name) what is the meaning of-" Suddenly it hits him and he tries to comes up with an excuse off the top of his head. "-Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it...and...the meaning of it is...that this is the tradition of (Random Foreign Country/Continent) greeting of hospitality. Uhh...guess who???" Vision says as he runs behind you and overs your eyes.

"Oh is that my host being me?" You say playing along.

"It certainly is, darling. Lovely to make your acquaintance" Vision says vigorously shaking your hand. "See i forgot to tell you my husband is from (Random Foreign Country/Continent)" he giggles along with the audience.

"Oh, how exotic!" The man's wife cheerfully laughs.

"I never knew such a place as that existed" He says in a dark yet serious tone.

"Oh hush Author, have you no culture. Oh and the robe, I absolutely love it!" His wife replies trying to lighten up the awkward mood.

"Thank you so much ma'am-" you march through the living room and snatch off the silk scarves from all the lamps and tightly grab Vision's hand. "-Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"

You both then slam your way through the kitchen door and it swings closed behind you, leaving Vision's boss and his wife behind as they sit down on the couch and patiently (more like impatiently on Arthur's end) wait for your return. You then turn around and look at each other before throwing questions.

"Who are those people?!"

"What are you wearing!?"

"Why are they here?"

"What are you wearing!?" Vision questions again boldly

"Well, it's out anniversary, that's why I'm wearing this!"

"Our anniversary of what?" Vison says, desperate to know what the hell you were talking about. Eventually you had enough of these shenanigan's and throw the scarves down at his feet stomping your way to the kitchen chairs. "Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" you exaggerate, crossing your arms and pouting like a child

"(Male Name), darling! That...that man through there is my boss Mr. Hart! And his dear lady wife Mrs. Hart! The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!" Vision whispers, roughly tapping his hand on the black heart drawn on the dull colored calendar.

You grab your head and shake it trying to put everything together. "Vision sweetie, you move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who. Needs. To. Abbreviate!?"

Vision grabs both of your shoulders in an attempt to collect his thoughts and calm you down. "Darling, listen, it's all romantic to do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit. I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now-"

"Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal. Correct?" Vision nods his head while muttering 'exactly' while look around the kitchen in order to find somethin to serve to the unwarned visitation of guests. After looking around for a but, your eyes land on the mini round table that held a plate and food on it. "Well, does your boss and his wife have a hunger for a single chocolate-covered strawberry, split three ways?" Vision hisses while clenching his fists and shaking his head no.

"Oh wait, I might have better ideas" Without hesitation you raise both of your sands and snap your fingers, magically changing your outfit to the one you were wearing earlier that day, a pair of dark high waisted cuffed slacks and a white blouse to match (you can change if you don't like), and the audience claps in astonishment at your transformation whilst you tie your apron in a bow behind your back. Vision gives you a quick peck on the cheek and runs back to the living room to keep others company while you figure out what to serve everyone.

---Time Skip---

After minutes of looking, you couldn't find anything in the kitchen, and the refrigerator was empty, so you decided to call your good neighbor Agnes to see if she could pick up some things from the store and bring it over. A couple of minutes pass and you finally hear a familiar knock on the back door in the kitchen. As soon as you open it Agnes rushes through with her hands full of groceries stacked to her chin as she stumbles through the kitchen. Before you could even mutter out a 'thank you' she stops you dead in your tracks and puts all the food down on the table. "Before you can say anything don't think about it. I mean, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place. Not that Ralph wants to eat anything other than baked beans, which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you." The audience laughs one more at her silly humor as you quickly render to her aid to grab some of the groceries before they could fall. Unfortunately, it seems like the Universe was not on your side since the large cooking pot crashed and hit the ground, echoing throughout the kitchen, while Agnes yelled out an overexaggerated 'oh my'.

You had to get rid of Agnes and as quickly as you can, so you decided to just push her out the back door despite her protests to help you cook. "Thank you so much Agnes but I can take it from here-"

"Are you sure dear, many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip too!"

"Oh ahahaha, you are so naughty! But-"

"Oh, shall I preheat the oven then? hmm?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you for your time!"

Somehow she managed to escape your grasp on her waist and make her way back to the counter to crab some kitchen tools to start cooking for you. "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap." She says snapping her fingers before continuing her rambling. you run back over to her and snatch the utensils from her, setting them on the counter, and grabbing her arms to march her back to the door. "Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start. Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jellies for your main. Oh wait! Do you set your own jellies, dear?"

"Yes Agnes I do, now can you please-"

"Ah there you go, good boy! Recipe cards are all on the counter there. Bon Appétit!"

"Haha, yes will do, thank you so much again Agnes! Bye now!" You say slamming the door, making the audience laugh at your exhausted expression. Now that she's gone, you run to the middle of the kitchen and throw your arms around, making all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen fly open, the dishes start floating out, and the food starts cooking. Out of no where the doors to the island bar swoop open to show Mrs. Hart, but before she could see Vision distracts her by breaking out and singing Yackety Yack by The Coasters, causing her to break out into a little dance, making her way back to the couch. Dear gods and goddess', how lucky are you to have a savior like him.

But little did you know, that the night was only just beginning.

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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too! Once again, I'm so sorry it was rushed! Please don't be afraid to let me know if there are any typos or errors. I will go back and edit this

[softlyjiminie]

nine months from now | m.y.g

⇢ pairing(s): boss!min yoongi x reader, mentions of vmin + namjin.

⇢ word count: 16.5K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: smut, angst, fluff, un-expecting parents!au, parents!au.

⇢ summary: his was not supposed to happen. this was never in the plan. a sudden, unexpected turn of events leads you into a world of baby bottles and baby grows, it just so happens that the cause of this mess is your boss...min yoongi.

⇢ warning(s): please read! mentions of infidelity, insecurity, unexpected pregnancy, light!description of birth ( pain, water breaking ), soft smut, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, unprotected sex ( please wear protection ),  mentions of one night stands, mentions of drunk sex,  phone sex, oral sex ( female receiving ), masturbation ( male + female ) , light!praise kink, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, dirty talk and swearing.

⇢ author’s note(s): hey everyone! this is a kinda late birthday fic for our wonderful boy min yoongi! i love parent aus and i just got to thinking about how yoongi would be the most amazing dad and boom dis bad boy popped out. I hope you enjoy reading and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! also thank you to my wonderful gigi ( @fantasybangtan​ ) for this beautiful banner, love you so much :(

one month. two blue lines.

this was not supposed to happen. this was never in the plan. you were supposed to work your ass off, show off your skills, get promoted and live a comfortable life. there was no time in your plan for this.

no time in your plan for a baby.

you feel as if the whole world has been drained away as you sit on the edge of your bath tub, your chest rising and falling with panic —you hadn’t even noticed, not until it was too late. your period had always been irregular, is it was easy for you to miss the signs. it couldn’t be happening. it can’t be happening. “how can this be happening?” you whisper to yourself, the lump in your throat makes your voice sound hoarse and weak.  

“well, when two very special people love each other..” your roommate, yura, begun as she rests her head on your shoulder and grabs your trembling hand. she had always been a joker, much to the chargen of your half brother, seokjin.

“she knows how it works, yura! it’s the sex that got her there!” your sibling yells, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you with a scolding disappointment. you’d never seen him so angry before, face red and the vein in his neck on the verge of bursting. you could tell he was trying to reign in his temper and you knew it was more than just rage he was feeling. seokjin had never known his farther, your mother was too ashamed to ever tell him and so he spent most of his life living with a hole in his heart. “do you even know who the father is?” 

you flinch at his sharp tone, knowing it was only his self inflicted conflict that was so venomous. yura’s head snaps up to glare at seokjin, lips parted in shock at he continues his rant. “how irresponsible could you be, YN? getting pregnant at this time in your career, how could you be so stupid?” 

“seokjin, enough!” yura snaps furiously, standing up with her hands resting comfortingly on your shoulders. she stares him down, rendering him silent and huffs. “YN is a grown woman...twenty-four years of age, meaning, you can’t scold her like a child anymore. it’s her body, her life and she’ll do as she damn well pleases. “

the sounds of their voices fade to nothing but static as they bicker back and forth about you. it’s almost as if you’re not even there, mind a million miles away. the mere thought of a life growing inside you has you spiralling and it’s not until seokjin puts a hand on your shoulder, that you look up.

“do...you know who the father is?” yura asks you quietly and avoids your gaze at his flits between hers and seokjin’s face.

“i do,” you twiddle your thumbs nervously, thinking back to the only occasion you can remember. you rub your eyes as they slowly begin to water, your brother and best friend nuzzling into you to help calm your nerves. “i know exactly who it is.”

seokjin and yura share a look, worried for the name about to pass your lips.

three months.

the walk to the top office is a brisk and daunting one. thousands of scenarios occupy your mind but you remember your brother’s advice and try to keep a steady head. you relax your stance as the elevator doors close in front of you, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. a hand comes to rest on your lower stomach, reaching for the bump that was barely visible. 

you’d been to various different appointments over the last few weeks, blood tests, ultra-sounds and a paternity test. groaning, you remember the face of the assistant, her pointed nose tilted up in disgust when you begged her for any disgarded coffee cups the executive had lying around. all you needed was the tiniest trace of saliva to confirm your suspicions.

reaching your desired floor, you step out of the lift, and the sudden feeling of exposure crawls up your spine. patent heels click and clack against the smooth marble floor as you head to the front office. the light shines through the glass panes but it doesn’t lift your somber mood.

“i have an appointment with the executive?” you smile politely to the receptionist behind the desk and hand over your ID badge. she’s surprised, to say the least, when she checks it over and you can tell she’s unsure of how someone of your position would get an appointment on such short notice.

she lets you through regardless, mentioning to the executive that you’ll be up soon and too expect you. your once calm and collected walk is now weak and wobbly at  your ankles, you shake as you knock on the door and quiver when a deep voice beckons you in.

the room is bright, illuminated by natural light that shines through the glass panes directly onto the office. it’s sleek, black accents run through out the room with shades of whites and yellows and greys for contrast. a long desk, also black in colour, sits in the middle of the room, in front of the largest window that looks out onto the busy streets of seoul. you wonder if people ever look up and try to imagine what would happen in a room like this. the though of what’s about to happen sends chills down your spine. 

your patent heels sink into the carpeted floor, the softness and uneven ground do nothing to help your quaking knees. 

MR. MIN YOONGI 

the letters are engraved into the golden placement with thick, bold letters and reading it makes your heart race. the man himself is oblivious to your entrance, once deep red and burgundy hair having faded into his natural jet black roots. he wears a navy suit, tailored perfectly to fit his shoulders and his tie sits promptly around his neck, not a hair is out of place.

he hadn’t always been this perfect, you of all people would’ve known that. min yoongi was notorious in your company for his simple two step manoeuvre; flirting and fucking. whilst you had yet to fall victim to his charms, you knew to steer clear of him at company parties. yoongi had been a simple project manager at the daegu branch of your company, The Red Label, an up and coming fashion brand in south korea— before being unexpectedly promoted to executive to the seoul branch. you heard the last one had quit from heart break caused by the man himself. 

you, yourself were a new fashion designer, fresh out of college when you joined. you were happy to say that your designs had been worn by many idols since you started your job, including the infamous jeon jungkook.

you remember meeting yoongi at the annual anniversary party, drunk memories of the night suddenly becoming more and more clear. 

“yes?” he asks, looking up from his papers with a thin-lipped smile. he’s trying to be polite, you can tell, but you hate the way his black eyes watch you with discontent. you doubt he recognises you, remembers what went down a few months back. 

“hi...” you breathe, the anxiety from your thoughts rushing in. yoongi simply stares you down, his dark eyes watching as you shuffle under his gaze. he leans back in his desk chair, boredom etched into his features.

“look ms. kim,  i’m a busy man and have plenty of meetings to attend to today... so id prefer it if you didn’t go wasting my time.”

heat flushes through your veins and tingles at your fingertips, the words you had chanted to yourself in the mirror as practice have suddenly gone astray. you look to yoongi, his impatient stare boring holes into your very soul and you can tell he’s growing irritable. 

yoongi opens his mouth again to start a simple attack. “as i have stated already, ms. kim, i am a busy man with many duties to attend to today, so if you don’t mind-“ 

you hate this, you hate him. you hate how he thinks he can talk to you like you’re beneath him. especially after what he did to you. 

“i’m pregnant.” you blurt out, your rigid frame becoming lax as you realise what you’ve done. you watch as yoongi’s face contorts with confusion, what does this have to do with him? he must me thinking.

“why-?”

“it’s your child,” you snap back, suddenly gaining the roaring confidence seokjin had instilled in you many years ago. you march your way over to his desk, slapping down a file of all the tests you’d gotten, this paternity test with his DNA and his name in thick bold letters standing out on the white pages. “the documents are all here, if you don’t believe me.” 

the colour drains from yoongi’s face as he realises the severity behind his once careless actions, he never thought this would happen, he always thought he’d been, “safe? didn’t we use a condom?” he mumbles quietly, embarrassed and ashamed. 

“you insisted that we didn’t need one, you were too intent on getting your congratulations for your recent promotion.” you explain curtly, wrapping an arm protectively around your stomach. 

it was only then that yoongi noticed, the small curve of your stomach that was carrying a life that he had helped to make.  whether he wanted it or not, yoongi was going to be a father and he could tell by the fire in your eyes that you were going to do everything in your power to provide for this child. 

he sits back in his chair and runs a hand over his face, letting it cup his chin as he thinks. “okay....okay, fuck. what do we do now?” 

“well, i...” you hesitate, opening your mouth in a silent gasp. you step back from the desk and start to twiddle with your thumbs as you huff, nervous. “i don’t want this baby, my baby to grow up without a father. i’ve seen first hand how painful that can be. i also understand that, considering our circumstances, it might not be the best idea but i still believe you should take responsibility of a father and help look after them as well.” 

your answer is thoughtful, none of your words are fuelled by malicious intent. you want the best for the baby, your baby, his baby. yoongi’s heart clenches in his chest, his baby. 

“when’s your next appointment?” he asks in a whisper, a million and one thoughts rushing through his head at once. you look surprised, expecting yoongi to try and pay you off and keep quiet.

“next monday.” 

“good, i’ll be there.” 

three months, one week.

“is there any particular reason in which you’re not letting me attend today?” your brother hums, your only thought from then is to only roll your eyes as you pack your bag. phone, keys, purse. seokjin watches as you flutter about, fluffing your hair and straightening the sweater you wear, so it sits over your small bump just fine. 

shaking your head, you attempt to hide the nerves that crawl up your throat in fear of spewing them all out onto the floor. you’d blame it on early morning sickness. your older brother eyes you suspiciously, dark brow arched perfectly as a finger rests on his top lip. he knows you like the back of his hand, everything there is to know about you. he knew you were excitable when it came to things like new music or watching re-runs of americas next top model. he knew you were shy with physical contact and intimacy. he knew that sometimes you got so anxious and scared, especially with deadlines that your words became jumbled up and you’d forget your name. 

he knew why you were being so quiet today. 

you ignored him nonetheless, looking ever so slightly flustered once you’d finished getting yourself ready. you hadn’t felt this way since you’d submitted your first design to the Red Label. 

“are you sure? i know you hate all the machines and the gel the put on your tummy-“ the elder rambled and watched you collapse onto the couch beside him, you clasp your hands over his knee and sigh at him. clearly exhasperated.

“yoongi is coming,” you grumble eventually, curling in on yourself with a large pout. seokjin narrows his eyes, ever since finding out and confirming that yoongi was the father, he had been far from happy. seokjin remembered referring to the man as a pompous piece of poop, except more foul language was used. “i know you don’t like him, but we decided to try this co-parent thing? i’m just nervous that he’ll want to drop out as soon as he sees the baby-“ 

frowning, your brother shuffles over to you and presses a light kiss to your forehead as an attempt to comfort you.  “and if he does, we’ll figure it out together. promise.” 

you nod in affirmation, leaning into seokjin’s touch. he gets up to check the door a while later, calling out for you confusedly. “YN, there’s someone here to see you?” 

following his voice, you find yourself side by side with your brother, facing a man about your age if not younger. he’s dressed formally, in a black suit and white shirt, a bow tie around his neck. he offers you a boxy grin and you frown. 

“who are you?” 

“ah, you must be YN.” 

“yes, she is, but who are you?” seokjin cuts in before you can open your mouth, moving stand protectively in front of yourself and the baby. confused, you’re eyes widen and you shuffle back in the doorway to protect yourself further.

the man’s enthusiastic grin drops slightly as he readjusts his tie, coughing and holding his hand out to your older sibling. “taehyung, kim taehyung...” he introduces himself and falters when seokjin doesn’t take his hand. “i’m mr min’s driver, he sent me to collect ms. kim for her appointment today.” 

“driver? collect my sister? why i oughta-“ 

you set a palm on your brother’s chest and push him back lightly, smiling at taehyung as you do so. “jinnie,” you warm him and ignore his angry stare before addressing the driver. “i’ll be ready in a moment, taehyung.” 

quickly, you run back into the apartment to grab your bag and coat, returning fully dressed and ready to go. taehyung is already waiting with the door open by the car outside. you turn to your brother and hum. “i’m mad at him too, for sending a driver, but at least let me rip him a new one myself.” you say, breathlessly.

“with pleasure.” 

“a driver, really, min yoongi?” 

you storm past the man himself, anger flaring up within you at just the sight of his stupid designer suit and stupid pointed leather shoes that were probably imported from italy. he‘s a stupid man. who even wears a suit to a hospital appointment? 

yoongi stands flabbergasted, hands up in defence whilst taehyung only shrugs his shoulders and mentions he’ll be parked in the private area. the executive quickly follows you, surprised that you can even walk that fast with growing life inside of you and bends over with palms on his knees when you stop at the receptionist desk.

“i didn’t think it was smart of me to delay the appointment by meeting you at your own home, ms. kim.” 

rolling your eyes, you lean up to the receptionist, ignoring the way your name rolls so greasily off of yoongi’s tongue. “appointment for YN kim? 2:30.” you beam down at the man behind the desk, who’s eyes light up when they notice you.

“YN! lovely to see you again, you’re right on time!” he hums and checks you in on the computer as you spare a quick glare to the man behind you. the receptionist follows your gaze and leans in to whisper. “is this the baby father?” 

a light chuckle wafts past your lips and you nod as you tie the appointment slip from him. “why yes hoseok, he is.” 

“how unfortunate that his personality doesn’t match his looks.” 

you giggle and bid hoseok goodbye, walking down the hall to your doctors office for your ultrasound. yoongi mostly follows and stays quiet, sensing the anger and resentment you have for him, building. he sighs in the waiting room, knowing that he has to find some way to get a long with you and change your impression of him for the sake of his child. 

“miss kim for her ultrasound? oh and is that dad?” your doctor asks as she leads you into the room, helping you onto the bed and allowing you to push up your jumper for the jelly. yoongi feels a pang of guilt resonating in his chest, knowing that he should be the one helping you, but stands awkwardly to the side nonetheless. 

shuffling up on the seat, you look to yoongi expectantly to introduce himself and he jumps up, fixing his suit as he leans forward to take the doctor’s hand. “min yoongi...uh... dad.” 

“dr park, or you can call me dr jihyo,” she smiles, getting ready to apply the jelly to your stomach. “you know the drill YN, it might be a little cold,” yoongi watches quietly as you nod in confirmation, flinching when the cool substance comes into contact with your tiny bump. “alright! good job mum! let’s get you all set up.” 

it takes a few minutes for dr park to set up the monitor, using a device that yoongi doesn’t recognise to scan for what he assumes is the baby. yourself and the doctor chat idly, and yoongi realises how scary it must’ve been to do these things on your own for the first time. his train of thought is cut off by the sound of a steady, tiny heartbeat filling the room. 

that’s his baby, your baby. 

“your baby sounds nice and healthy,” dr park hums happily, tilting the device to get more of a view of your little peanut. she points her finger on the screen and turns back to smile at you. “here they are, hiding from us.”

you giggle happily and for a split second, beam over at yoongi as you witness the life you’ve created together. “is that our baby-?” yoongi half whimpers, taking a step forward to take your hand in his. you jump at the feeling, his change in attitude but appreciate the support nonetheless, on the edge of tears yourself.

these last view weeks had been daunting, life changing, but seokjin and yura had been there for you every step of the way. holding your hand and coming with you to check ups. 

“yes sir! i’m going to print out some pictures of the scans for you both, while we’re here, would you like to know the gender of your baby?” she asks politely and taps away on her computer.

“no, thank you.” 

“yes, please.” 

you send a glare yoongi’s way, fired up inside as he matches the look. 

“yes!”

“no!” 

the tension thickens in the room, so much so that a knife wouldn’t be able to cut through. dr. park stands from her chair, arms up to ease you both and coughs for your attention. “how about i print those pictures and you two can decide when i come back?” she suggests as you rip your hand from yoongi’s, who feels the walls build up around you again.

“that’d be great, thank you doctor.” he hums, watching as the doctor leaves the room before turning to you with a deepest scowl. “what was all that about, ms. kim? you were acting like a petulant child.” 

you growl deeply, sitting up and wiping yourself clean of the cold jelly. you pull down your sweater and turn to look at the man with a dark frown. “me? a child?” you tsk, looking him up and down. “i didn’t see you taking any initiative when it came to the baby until wanting to know its sex! as far as i’m concerned, mr. min, you’ve acted as nothing more than a sperm donor i actually have to see,” you spit, ignoring the pang of guilt you feel when yoongi visibly flinches at your words. “and for the love of god, it’s YN.” 

“well, YN,” he starts to argue, brushing off the hurt. “this is a first for me too, and if we’re going to make it work we have to compromise. i get it, i haven’t been much  help or support but i am trying to get better, for you and the baby.” 

you falter, you know that you have been tough on him but he is also making an effort by even showing up at all. sighing, you look to yoongi thoughtfully. “you’re right and I am sorry for lashing out, but this is one thing i won’t change my mind on. we have many decisions to make together, but this one i need for myself.” you say, rubbing your arm sheepishly.

“that’s fine, we can make that work.” yoongi smiles softly, to which you can’t help but return.

five months.

some would be shocked at the progress yourself and yoongi had made, having a baby really changed people. yoongi was much sweeter now, having dropped most of the formalities in favour of your ‘beautiful’ name, or so he called it. the executive brought you lunch almost everyday, left snacks and sweet notes to aid your cravings and ease your hormones. 

yoongi even offered to send you money for groceries, claiming he wanted the baby to have a healthy lifestyle from early on. of course you refused it, whilst you loved the support you were getting from him, it sent chills down your spine at how fast he’d changed.

“but what’s so wrong about that?” yura asks you one night. the pair of you are both cuddled up under heaps of blankets, your feet on her lap as she munches on the kale chips yoongi had given you that day. she inspects the green crisp for a moment, blinking before popping it on her tongue and crunching happily. “free food? comfier clothes? a driver? sounds like the life to me, YN.” 

you snatch the bag of chips away from your roommate, knowing it’ll spoil her appetite before your brother brings over dinner. peeking into the bag yourself, you swipe a few of the healthy snack for yourself, grimacing at the taste. what kind of sane person combines kale and chips? who? and it didn’t help that your cravings had kicked in. 

“there’s nothing wrong with it, i just don’t want money spent on me.” you whine and pout, shoving the chips away from yourself. 

yura only rolls her eyes and flicks your forehead. “but the moneys not for you it’s for miss yura junior over here!” she coos, raising her voice by a few octaves to talk to your bump. you watch with furrowed brows and a slight grimace as your roommate continues to make sounds horrifyingly similar to breeding cats.

“please, stop.” 

“nono, she loves it.” 

just at that moment, seokjin makes his entrance with bustling bags carried by his poor boyfriend- namjoon. you push yura away from your bump in order to make an effort in reaching namjoon but he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“you mean, he,” your brother comments and settles himself in the kitchen to prep you a meal. “i can already tell, that little critter in there is a boy and none of you can convince me otherwise.” he insists loudly, causing namjoon to roll his eyes.

“maybe YN’s results will...” yura turns to you with a mischievous glint, itching her fingers up your side knowing full well how ticklish you were. you’d probably sock her in the face with how much you wriggled. 

“and there’s not a chance that either of you will find out, i’m under strict instructions to keep the results from you. all of you.” namjoon interjects pointedly, sagging into the seats and rubbing his arms from all the shopping your brother made him carry. yura sticks her tongue out at him. “now what’s this about baby daddy money?” 

pulling the blankets up to your chin, you sigh, pouting over at namjoon. namjoon was like a second elder brother to you, quiet and helpful much unlike seokjin. you suppose that’s why the pair made such good partners, they balanced each other out well. “yoongi has been sending things over to help take care of myself and the baby but, it’s too much!” you huff and throw yourself back into the couch, sinking in and away from the world. “he even moved my desk at work, closer to his!” 

joon tilts his head, looking at you with a knowing smirk and taps his nose. “sounds like this yoongi guy has a thing for you.” 

“nuh uh, never, nada...nope!” you counter, shaking your head. there’s no way in hell yoongi could possibly feel that way about you. your hook up was a one time thing and you didn’t quite match up to the other girls he hooked up with at the office. “never in a million years. not possible.”

“you never know, YN,” he hums back, shrugging nonchalantly.  “yoongi could be everything you least expect.”

you lose yourself in namjoon’s the words, thinking deeply as seokjin starts to being out the dinner trays.

“can you believe, min yoongi put a baby in her?” 

“i want to know how his dick even got up just by looking at her.”

your skin crawls with discomfort as you enter the break room, your co-workers instantly silencing. this was common, for them to make you the subject of their idol chit chat. of course with your sudden pregnancy and yoongi’s newfound favouritism for you during meetings and overall, it only made sense for everyone to put two and two together. 

jealous female coworkers didn’t like the idea that min yoongi didn’t want to hook up anymore, he wanted to focus on the one thing more important than his job. 

he wanted to focus on you. 

so now you were YN KIM, the red label’s pregnant whore. katie’s words, not your own. she was a new international relations employee from overseas, working with your departments new collection to debut in the US market. 

you loathed her. 

“good morning, YN,” she beamed, flicking her bleach blonde locks over her shoulder and pursed her lips the tacky barbie pink lipstick on. her insect eyes shift up and down your frame, making you curl in on yourself uncomfortably. “you’re looking a little bloated today.” 

you bite your lip in an effort to stop it from quivering, holding your bump protectively as you wait for the kettle to boil for some tea. “i’m pregnant.” you mumble quietly as a line of defence, wincing as katie and her minions let out high pitched, squeaking laughs. 

“are you sure? it seems like you’ve put on a few.”

gasping, you drop the mug you were using for tea and bite your lip, desperate for the tears not to fall. as quickly as you can, you shuffle out of the dreaded break room and ignore the ugly chuckles of your coworkers, making a break for the bathrooms. 

bursting into the room, you brush past whoever’s about to leave and dash to the taps to splash cold water over your hot, tear stained cheeks. you hope to god that no one is here to see your snotty faced, crying session but your biggest nightmare only comes true when a warm hand settles on your shoulder. 

“hate to break it to you sweetheart, but i don’t think this is the little ladies room,” you pout through your tears as you turn to face the voice, absolutely mortified when you notice them to be jimin. the blonde offers you a small smile that drops when he notes your sniffling, immediately replacing his expression with a look of concern. “ah! YN? are you alright?” 

clearly not, you think but allow jimin to grab you some tissues and dab at your tears. jimin was a sweet boy, a fresh face around the company since he was hired to replace yoongi’s assistant (she had quit for undisclosed reasons.). the boy was smartly dressed, always in a blazer and woven sweater. he wore circular specs that always slid down his nose, but his golden weaved hair was always pushed back in away that had the ladies drooling.

“what happened?” jimin asks quietly, helping you fix your makeup to a presentable state. his touch is gentle as he dabs under your eyes, looking at you earnestly.

“promise you won’t tell yoongi?” 

“pinky!” 

you sigh heavily when the man steps back, offering him tired smile with puffy eyes. “the inernational relations girl has turned every one of my coworkers against me, ever since she found out that yoongi was too committed for hookups...” you mumble sadly, gesturing to your bump as jimin follows your gaze. 

the blonde steps forward, grabbing your hands and holding them tight as he shakes his head. “they’re just jealous!” he exclaims, making you jump slightly. “i would be too if i was one of them, you’re a beautiful girl YN, with a beautiful baby coming along. if they’re going to be mean about it, they can fuck themselves because yoongi sure ain’t.” he finishes with a triumphant smile, looking down at you.

jimin is a sweetheart, and having only seen him around the office you know that you have someone trustworthy on your side for now. “thank you jimin, so much for your kind words.” 

the blond only tilts his head, offering you a crescent moon eyed smile. “anytime, YN! now let’s get you back on that office floor.” he beams and takes your hand, leading you back to your desk, much to the dismay of all the other girls.

“repeat that again.” 

“i fired her.” 

yoongi punctuates every word, teeth grit as he spits them out. it’s almost as if thinking about the incident makes him angry, which of course it does, grown women bullying the mother of his child. 

you sit straight faced in yoongi’s office chair, the doors are locked and the curtains open widely. the pale light of the clouded seoul sky brightens up the dark scowl on his face, as it caresses the curve of his pink lips and slope of his nose. shaking your head, you watch as yoongi fixes his suit and makes his way over to you. his steely, copper eyes are locked on your smaller frame as he flattens his palms out on the desk before you. 

he really is mad and you can’t blame jimin for telling yoongi the truth. 

“why?” you gasp with parted lips, looking up at yoongi with innocent eyes in hopes of ridding him from his scowl. 

the man himself leans down close to you, his face within an inch of yours and his lips deathly close to your own. his breath is warm against your top lip, and you force your gaze upwards into his dark, liquorish eyes. “you know why, YN. there’s no way i’m going to have the women in this office harass you for my actions, for carrying my baby.” he seethes, tone contrasting with the forefinger and thumb he uses to gently tilt your chin up so you face him. 

“if that’s the case, then you should have fired the whole floor.” you say meekly and gulp, this was the most yoongi had ever touched you since that night you spent tangled in each other’s arms, while he passionately ground his hips into- YN! you’re getting sidetracked! of course, aside from the occasional hand at the waist or on your bump to guide you. 

“i would, for you.” 

the line sends shivers down your spine and you bite your lip, lowering your gaze.

yoongi smirks down at you, letting you go gently and you’re left wondering how much power he really has in this company. the executive pulls up a chair beside you, grabbing your hand after a beat of silence. “YN, I’ve been doing some thinking, and i believe it would be best for you and the baby to move in with me in my penthouse down town,” yoongi explains simply, as your brows furrow in confusion.

“of course we’ll get a bigger place when he or she arrives, but i’ll take care of that and in the meantime i think it would also be in our best interest for you to quit your job here.”

“excuse me?” 

yoongi hums absentmindedly. “i asked you to-“ 

“no i heard what you said, it’s absolutely ridiculous yoongi!” you cry and tear your hand from his, the deep set frown on your face growing into an ugly glare. the man simply sits back in his chair, confused. “you think just because i have your child inside of me, i’m going to do everything you say? quit my job? i worked hard to be here, i sacrificed days and hours for this position and i’m not going to leave my hard earned job because you have money and because you can get want you want.” 

he stands, pushing a hand through his dark hair and stepping towards you. you weren’t going to let this man intimidate you. “YN, i’m simply making a few suggestions that will make this pregnancy easier.” yoongi growls lowly, feeling the anger boil up inside of him. why couldn’t you see that he just wanted to help?

“christ, yoongi! why can’t you see that i have a mind of my own as well?” you mutter, the hot rage coursing through your veins becoming a muted frustration. anger isn’t good for the baby and you know yoongi only means well. defeated, you pick up your bag and nod over to the man before you. “i appreciate all the help you’ve given these last few months, but i’m not a doll like your other girls, yoongi, i’m human too.”

you mumble the last part, adding that you’ll take a few days off if it pleases him. as you leave the office, yoongi is left with the lingering feeling that he’s disappointed you yet again,  wanting more than anything to fix this. 

“YN, sweetheart! YN...please wait!” 

your frown deepens and shoulders hunch over the kart at the sound of yoongi’s voice. if only you weren’t pregnant— maybe then could you run a little faster. the executive calls your name again, following after you as you turn the corner into the baby isle. all you wanted to do was shop, for your baby— undisturbed. 

rolling your shoulders, you push the kart at a faster pace and try to focus your attention on the adorable little baby grows with a range of soft pastels. “YN...” you cease at yoongi’s whining tone, biting your lip as you start to count to ten. “YN, please.” one, two, three—

“please-“

“what? what yoongi?” 

yoongi throws his hands up into the air in defence, blinking shortly. you sigh in defeat and stop the kart in front of the teething toys and give the executive a lazy once over— his fit is different to what you would typically see him in, aside from his gucci and dior fabric suits. today he dons a tight fitting black t-shirt and casual black jeans that hug his thighs deliciously. breathing in deeply through your nose, your eyes flicker back up to meet yoongi’s sheepish honey ones, you nod to him to continue. 

“i’m sorry,” he breathes hesitantly, debating whether or not he should reach out and touch you. “i’m sorry for making you feel like i was taking your career away from you. i know how much this job means to you and also how hard you worked for it...” the executive bites his lip and watches earnestly as you quirk you’re brow, cocking your hip as if to say ‘oh really, min yoongi?’. the man himself knows that you mean business and chooses his next words carefully. “what i’m trying to say, is that i was out of line. just because we’re having a baby together, doesn’t mean i have a right to dictate your life.” 

the brunette looks down, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. you hum happily and take a baby grow off of the shelf, smiling at the words embroidered into the soft white fabric. ‘daddy’s number one fan.’

“you can make it up to me by pushing around this kart,” you wink and dump the tiny clothing into the object itself. “it’s heavy.” 

yoongi smiles gratefully, lifting his head and gripping the kart. “anything for you, darling.” 

seven months.

“so what kind of gender reveal are we doing? cake, balloons—ooooh! confetti!” 

eyes rolling, you  set the small box of collectible doohickeys on the smooth glass tables of yoongi’s fancy, four bedroom apartment. it was a place uptown with views of cotton candy sunrises, baby blues and pinks that swirled with light oranges just above vast greenery. yoongi had bought a year or two again with no use but now it was being made into a space for you, himself and the baby— right after you agreed to move in with him. 

yura is perched in the plush leather couch, fur blankets draped over the backs that you eye suspiciously— you’re sure that when the baby comes, they’re something that you’ll have to replace, in fear they’ll be stained with baby fluids. “YN...” she sings with her pen between her teeth, she’d been planning your baby shower since you’d been too wrapped up with OB appointments and settling in with yoongi.

as you blink, you pick up a small snow globe from one of your family vacations with seokjin— tilting your head with a sly smile. “you know there isn’t going to be a gender reveal,” you put the globe down. would go nice with the kitchen? you’d have to put it out of the little one’s reach, though. “not until the baby is born, yura.” 

“what’s happening to yura when the baby’s born?” 

“you guys are so lame.” the girl in question scoffs, kicking her feet in defeat as she gives you an exaggerated sigh. yura pokes an unsuspecting yoongi in the chest as he enters the room with one of the final boxes before; she skips out to help your brother and his boyfriend with the rest. soaring a glance, you notice that ‘kitchenware’ is scrawled across the brown cardboard in the executive’s messy chicken scratch— something about the man that you’ve come to adore over the last few months. yoongi had done many things for you and the baby, so you knew moving in with him would give him some sense of security— and it made you feel much better.

yoongi looks up at you, confused as you start to giggle— moving to help him unpack the pretty marbled dishes you’d picked out with him. “why are we the lame ones?” he says with a pout, whiny tone like music to your ears. 

“she’s still not over our decision to keep the baby’s gender a secret,” you raise your brows in a knowing look, reaching over and grabbing the executive’s hand sweetly. “she wanted to do a gender reveal.” 

“we still could,” yoongi teases you playfully, as he uses your intertwined hands to twirl you into his chest so that he could hug you from behind. you shake your head with a bubble of laughter at the dark haired man’s antics— only quieting down when his hands slip down to your bump. a comfortable silence sweeps over you both, nothing but the sounds of your anticipating breathing filling the little space between you. another beat of silence passes before you feel the light tremor of feet and hands from the bump. “there they are.” 

the pair of you spend the next few moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, waiting for your little treasure to kick and push at your tummy— but to your dismay, yoongi makes a quick departure after receiving a call from the board. for you, work had been slow and difficult as your pregnancy progressed whilst yoongi’s grew busier and busier as the season deadlines approached. you’d decided to take your leave, finding it harder to keep on your feet while your ankles begin to swell and your joints became sore— yoongi of course, was relieved. 

“you two are getting affectionate.” namjoon comments, sliding into the room after your boss has left. you roll your eyes and make a move to sit on the plush couch, your little one becoming too excited. 

the elder male quickly rushes over, taking your hand as he helps you to sit— you smile gratefully as thanks. “we’re just friends.” 

“friends who‘re having a baby together.” 

biting your lip, you pause your actions as an uneasy feeling spikes up within your chest. yoongi couldn’t possibly see you both as more than friends— he was in this for the baby and so were you. it didn’t matter that he sometimes kissed closer to your lips than normal or that he had a habit of making you blush. it didn’t matter that he called you sweet names, held your hand tight and was protective over you because mon yoongi wasn’t falling for you. was he?

or could it be, that you were falling for him?

namjoon’s brow creases with worry when your silence boarders on the edge of uncomfortable— making him take your hand in his, once more. “YN, are you okay? did i say something wrong-?” 

“n-no i’m just...i’m just scared, joon,” you whisper, throat drying at your sudden realisation. the whole world feels as if it’s about the slip away from under your feet, the words you’re about to say— foreign on your tongue. namjoon looks up at you, the fear in his whiskey eyes reflecting your own. “i’m scared.”

“of what, YN?” the latter mumbles, concerned. 

“of falling,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “of falling for min yoongi.” 

min yoongi had come to realise that parties were never really his thing. 

they were easier to enjoy when people were drunk off their minds and didn’t know what was up or what was down. but observing the gathering from the edge of the room— completely sober and nursing a glass of baby champ had shown min yoongi that he’d never really liked parties. 

there were too many loud noises— the squealing from your friend and chatter from excited guests— and too many people, bodies closely packed in a tight space. at least when he was drunk, he was too out of his mind to care, but he was going to be a father now and taking care of his little humans meant taking care of himself. 

after all, drinking is what brought him is little gift in the first place. 

the only thing that makes the night more tolerable is the bright smile that you have plastered on your face. the executive grins when his gaze finds yours, you give him the sweetest of beams before turning back to conversing with one of your childhood friends. yoongi loves the way you look tonight; you’d settled on blush pink dress— one from a collection you’d designed yourself. he remembers how hard you’d worked to finish the designs before taking your leave, so he was adamant that you would wear the dress, the first of its kind.  your hair frames your face perfectly, each curl falling perfectly into place— caressing your soft cheeks that are lightly dusted with a warm blush to compliment the shadows that paint your eyelids. 

“you’re drooling, hyung...” 

the dark haired male jumps at the smooth voice from behind him, a scowl replacing the loving smile that once tickled at his lips. yoongi spins on his heel, adjusting his tailored jacket as his driver, taehyung slips an arm around his shoulders. the two had known each other for longer than it might have seemed, the younger being one of the few people yoongi actually trusted. they’d met back in college, before yoongi had become a big hot shot, before he fell into the world of sex, alcohol and money.

they’d lost touch when yoongi moved from deagu to work in seoul, seeing taehyung working there as a driver had been a pleasant surprise. the royal blue haired boy hasn’t changed a bit, the only thing being that he’d started dating the printer boy, jimin— who the executive ended up promoting because he loved the two so much. they were a trio, a little circle of trust and yoongi’s home away from home. 

but that didn’t stop the executive from cursing out his long time friend. “what the fuck taehyung?” yoongi hisses, pushing the driver lightly. he gives a brilliant laugh in response, as bright and as colourful as his head full of  “do i look like some kind of fucking dog to you?” 

jimin appears on yoongi’s left, wrapping his own arm around the older’s shoulder and linking his hand with his lover. oh god, the terrible two. who knew what mischievous they would get up to when together. “you do look like a puppy in love,” the blonde comments, tapping yoongi’s nose with his small pinky. he’s only a little bit tipsy, probably because of the whisky yoongi had caught them sneaking in. “woof woof.” 

“if hyung was a dog, what breed would he be?” 

“probably a chihuahua, small but...deadly.”

yoongi sighs, gaze switching between the two lovers as they squabbled over dog breeds excitedly. one, two, three, four— “do you need something?” he asks the pair, praying to heavens that they don’t and that they’ll leave him alone. 

jimin giggles, the sound bubbling from between his lush lips. “we’re here to give you a pep talk.” 

“you should tell her how you feel,” taehyung mumbles, clinging onto yoongi. affectionate and drunk. “you love her, everyone can see it.” 

“no they can’t—“ yoongi protests, but it’s far too late. the intoxicated pair of lovers are already pushing him in your direction and he can feel his heart beating violently in his chest as he nears you. since when were you able to make him nervous? perhaps his long time friends were right, the executive had felt himself grow fond of you— almost like his world revolves around you. he was with you not just for his child but for something much greater than himself. yoongi rolls his shoulders, his fingers barely touching at your own as he does his best to grab your attention, but then you turn around— glittering eyes shining even brighter at you look to him, the wisps of a greeting painted on your pink lips. “YN... i—“

his thoughts race a million miles a minute, just staring down at you makes yoongi’s heart stop. you barely have time to greet each other, before a loud nasally voice cuts through the buzzing electricity between you. “ahhh, mr min! the man of the hour, i’ve been dying to meet you.” 

“mum,” you whine with a shy smile, linking your arms with yoongi in an affectionate manner. “play nice.” 

“am i ever anything but?” 

taking the time to look between the two women, he notices the endearing similarities between you and your mother. like the crinkles under your eyes when you grin and the little tilt of your head when you listen intently. he can’t help but wonder what little habits your child will pick up when they’re a little older, will they be more like him? or like you? yoongi hopes to the heavens that your baby turns out like you. 

the man is so lost in thought that he almost forgets to introduce himself. “yoongi is just fine ma’am.” he smiles brightly, holding out a hand for mrs kim to shake— kissing it sweetly when she does so. he can’t help but blush under the intent gaze of your mother, squeezing your arm with nerves as he brushes through the terrains of his dark locks sheepishly. 

truth be told, meeting your mother was the most daunting part of the evening for yoongi. you had painted a picture of regal woman, to yoongi, mrs kim with deepest eyes that were warm and soft— seemingly   yes, he had faced celebrities and big bad CEOs but this was the grandmother of his unborn child. the woman who had raised and brought you into the world— he needed to prove himself worthy, especially since he’d impregnated you outside of marriage. yoongi wanted to show your mother that he could take care of you. 

“what a charming young man, YN, darling,” mrs kim chuckles, batting her lashes up at the executive. yoongi only chuckles shyly, feeling his heart rate increase at the compliment. he was never good at taking those. “you never told me he was this attractive, you’ll make handsome children.” 

“mother!” 

“ah but mrs kim, i’m sure that if our child does turn out as handsome as you say— it’ll all be due to YN and you of course.” yoongi grins cheekily, ducking his head when you swat his shoulder playfully. the rose tint on your cheeks tells yoongi that his words have done their job in making you flustered and of course impressing your mother too. 

the woman in question gives the executive a quick wink. “ever the flatterer too, hm?” 

“yes ma’am.” 

the conversation lasts for a minute or so longer before you’re rushing off to stop a slightly intoxicated jimin from stripping on the snack table as yura and taehyung cheer him on from below. affectionately, you lean up and kiss yoongi on the cheek before hurrying off with the help of your brother— leaving him alone with the intimidating presence of mrs kim herself.

moments pass without a word and yoongi wishes that he had stolen the liquor from tae so it’d at least soothe the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “i believe you’ll make a great father, min yoongi,” your mother announces, eyes trained on the daughter that she raised. “the way this baby has come about may be unconventional...but seokjin tells me you’ve stepped up to the plate, that you’ve come a long way.” she pauses, taking a breath as if she’s evaluating her words. “i know that you’ll take care of them, my daughter and her baby but i fear you’re not being one hundred percent honest.”

“i’m not?” the executive questions, lips forming a pout of confusion. whilst he was glad that seokjin had spoken highly of him and that despite the circumstances, your mother supported you both— he feared that if he’d lost your mother’s approval, you would take his child and not look back. 

mrs. kim shakes her head fondly, a light chuckle filling the air between them. “oh don’t look so afraid child, i mean, you’re not being honest with yourself.” she chides, rubbing yoongi’s forearm as his brows furrow further. still confused, a question forms on his lips but the executive is silenced by another tsk from your mother. “you’re in love with my daughter, it’s clear as day and i‘m afraid that if you don’t tell her now or ever— she’ll grow fearsome herself, fail to commit and...” the woman takes a deep breath, casting a gaze over to you that yoongi can’t help but follow. “she needs someone like you to take care of her when she doesn’t want any help. i trust you to do that for me, min yoongi.” 

the dark haired male takes a deep breath through his nose, watching as the elder woman takes her leave in favour of helping you calm your friends. he knows in his heart that she’s right, he loves you. he loves everything about you. 

and there was no better time to tell you, than now. 

the drive home is comfortable, quiet. yoongi steers with his eyes on the road and his hand intertwined with you over the console. he’s not watching you, but he knows that you’re counting the raindrops that slide down the tinted windows and merge with one another, you’ve told him that it was a habit you picked up as a child. 

the baby shower wrapped up just after eleven p.m, when you’d started to complain of sore feet and the baby begun kicking to their heart’s content. like the loving brother he was, seokjin offered to help clear up whilst joon packed a drunk, snogging jimin and taehyung into his own car to drop them home. you’d thanked them endlessly, only playing nice because yoongi had promised you a foot massage when you’d returned home. 

pulling into the driveway, yoongi turns off the ignition and lets the car fall into rest, the drifting hum of the car helping to steadying his nervous breathing. “we’re home,” he mumbles, more so to himself than you— biting at the skin of his lower lip. you’ve stopped counting the raindrops now, turning to face the man with a brow raised in confusion. 

“yoongi, is everything alright?” you ask, squeezing his hand tighter now, it feels weighty in your own— reassuring to hold like an enveloping warmth that touches your heart. even though the car is dark, you can still make out the lines of worry that crease in his forehead, he’s never usually this quiet, uncomfortably quiet. “please... you’re scaring me...”

“i’m in love with you.” he says after what seems like years of deafening silence, finally meeting your eyes with a steeling gaze. you gasp, jumping back in shock but yoongi doesn’t dare let your hand slip from his. you feared this, the day that he told you such a sweet little lie. because how could he ever love you? you were just a girl from an office party with nothing special about you. min yoongi didn’t care for you, is what your thoughts forced you to believe but your heart knew better. “and i...i know that you’re scared, i am too. but YN, i can promise you now, that i’ve never been so sure of this, of loving you than i have about anyone...”

yoongi takes both of your hands this time, dark, stormy eyes fluttering across your face earnestly. you know in your heart that you love him too, you’ve felt it for a while but he continues, giving you all the more reason to trust in his words. “you’re beautiful and kind, and these last few months i’ve realised that you’re more than i ever deserve,” he pauses, looking away shyly as he opens up to you. “and i love you, so much i-“

“just shut up and kiss me, min yoongi.” you whisper in response, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down for a sweet kiss. your lips meld together perfectly as your hands move into the oblivion sea of his hair, gripping the locks tightly while your tongue finds his— engaging in a battle of passion. memories flash behind your eyes of the night you spent with yoongi, the one that gave you your gift. his hands sneak down to your waist as you kiss him eagerly, pouring a million and one emotions into it. 

you don’t remember making it inside of the apartment, yoongi mumbling something about ‘not here’ in terms of taking you inside of the car. there’s a clash of tongue and teeth as you stumble up to your shared bedroom, pushing off clothes and letting out whimpers of one another’s names but when you reach the bed, rushed kisses become slow and steady, tender touches to your face and hips. “i want you,” yoongi says lowly, fingers tangling in your hair. “i want to take my time with you.” 

you nod slowly as he pecks your lips once before kissing a sweet trail down your body and to your ankles. yoongi silently pulls of each of your shoes, massaging your swollen ankles as he smooths over your skin. you let yoongi take off your jewellery and smooch at your wrists, let down your hair and finally— unzip your dress. instinctively, your arms wrap around yourself like a protective barrier, shielding your body from yoongi’s moonlit gaze. of course, you weren’t ashamed to be carrying life inside of you but your body was in no way what it was before. you had stretch marks from your growing bump and swollen breasts that started to lactate here and there— you weren’t ashamed just shy. 

“yoongi...i-“ you cant seem to find the words, gasping as the executive leans over you and pushes you down onto the bed. his slender fingers capture your wrists, gently pinning them above your head as his lips hover teasingly over your own. 

yoongi tilts his head, allowing the moonlight seeping through the curtains to illuminate his features— the slope of his nose and the dip of his cupid’s bow. the darkness in his whiskey eyes and the black flecks that paint them. he’s beautiful. “you’re beautiful,” he whispers, staring deep into your eyes. “you’re glowing, pregnant or not i still find you stunning. please don’t hide your beauty from me.” 

a small smile tugs at the curve of your lips as you nod silently, the man above you taking it as a sign to continue further. yoongi skilfully unclips your bra as his own lips find your neck, sucking on it diligently while your quiet whimpers fill the air like music to his ears. he litters your blank skin with shades of midnight blue and night sky purple as you arch your back into his chest but it’s not enough— you want to feel his skin against yours, the warmth of his body tangling with your own. 

“off,” you mumble, pushing at his shirt while his calloused hands rub circles into your bare hips. “take it off.” yoongi obliges, pulling away from you for just a brief second to strip off his button up— his suit jacket and tie having been thrown off as you stumbled into the house. his skin is milky and pale, only dotted with light patches of freckles and scars fading with adult hood. “you’re beautiful too.” you add, looking yoongi deep in the eye.

he shakes his head fondly, kissing you again but only briefly. “i love you,” he utters into the quiet night before moving down to peck your bump. “i love you too.” you wait a moment as your baby delivers a small kick, seemingly tired out for now and share a gummy smile with yoongi. from there, your lover makes quick work of your panties, pulling them off in one swift movement as he takes to spreading your legs. 

his touches are feather light, kisses like wise as the drift across your inner thighs and avoid where you need him most.  “please, please yoongi.” you chant his name like a mantra, his warm breath making you even more sensitive than before.

“what is it that you need sweetheart? tell me.” 

you chest heaves as yoongi smooths over your thighs, enjoying your responsiveness to him. “you, need you to touch me! god, please yoongi.” you whine, legs beginning to tremble with need. the executive only chuckles at the mention of his name, using his large hands to spread you open again, a single digit traces the outline of your heat, causing your hips to twitch up and follow the source of your pleasure. 

 “you’re so wet for me sweetheart and i haven’t even touched you yet,” yoongi coos, collecting your nectar with two fingers. he moans at the taste, leaning into your dripping heat with his tongue and swiping at the rest, making you whine and writhe in satisfaction. you had no idea why you were so sensitive and needy for his touch— blame it on the pregnancy hormones— it was almost as if yoongi had set alight a fire under your skin, scorching you with a hot desire as he spread your lower lips and tongue slipping past your wet hole.

fingers grip at his hair while you open up for him like a flower, hips rutting into his mouth as his plush lips sloppily kissed at your pulsing clit. “god, yoongi!” you cried, eyes rolling back as he slipped a digit past your entrance, curling it along side his tongue causing more of your hot slick to gush down your thighs, urging yoongi on while he moaned into your mess. the vibrations sent chills up your spine, making you arch your back and scream into the night, arousal spreading through your body and coursing through your veins. “please.” 

“please, what?” the man in question asked, pressing your hips down as he looked up at you, evidence of your arousal painting his cheeks and chin. “tell daddy so he can help his baby.” yoongi cooed, replacing his tongue with two fingers, the stretch becoming a satisfying burn as he prepared you for his cock. 

you writhed as the title slipped carelessly from between his lips, squeezing your tightness around his fingers as you struggled to keep your thighs apart. you were his baby and he was going to spoil you rotten. “wanna...wanna,” you fumble over your words as yoongi curls his fingers, pressing them into that spot that has you wriggling in the sheets—desperate for release. “wanna cum,” 

“oh baby, you can only cum when daddy’s filling you up, yeah?” he speaks softly, all the love in the world intertwined with his quiet syllables. yoongi lazily draws circles on your clit, pressing his forehead to yours as she whispers sweet praises against your lips— they don’t stop when he pulls his fingers from your swollen heat nor do the kisses that come as he sheds the remainder of his clothes and aligns his hardened cock at your entrance. 

you bite your lip harshly, eyes rolling with pleasure as yoongi’s hands find your own— his length pushing between your folds teasingly. you squeeze at your intertwined fingers, a sign that you’re ready to take him, that you don’t want to wait anymore. yoongi looks to you lovingly, lips hovering over your own, barely touching but saying every word and then some— you feel it, you see it that in this moment he loves you and for those to come, he loves you. 

with a silent nod and another squeeze of your hands, yoongi pushes past your entrance, nestling his cock within the heat of your soaked walls. together, your share a gasp— finally being united as one. this time feels like your first together, no drunken hook ups, just you and yoongi and all the love in the world, between you both. his warm breath fans over your face like an ocean breeze as he sets a rhythm with his hips, slow at first with easy rolls of his body against  yours— only speeding up with every octave that your moans rise in. 

“yoongi...feels so good,” you mumble breathlessly, freeing one hand from his and burying them deep in his oblivion hair. yoongi only smiles down at you in response, bucking his hips a little feverishly as he drags the tip of his cock against your velvet lined walls. you jolt with pleasure, beginning to grind your hips back, in wanton— finding your hand slipping down to cup the man’s cheeks, letting him peck your finger tips that rest near the corners of his mouth. “so...so good...” 

yoongi leans down, being mindful of the bump as he presses his chest to yours, your intertwined hands finding purchase in the silk of your sheets while he bottoms out inside of you. the room becomes filled with a vivid heat, the scent of passion twisting with the air leaving a lingering touch on your skin.  “yeah? you like that sweetheart?” his voice is a light whisper, sending shivers down your spine as you arch your back into him. “love seeing you like this, angel,” he praises too, nosing your cheek as you fall into another pitfall of pleasure— a symphony of your sweet moans playing on repeat. “so swollen and full, carrying my sweet baby. love how big you’ve gotten for me.” 

the silver words that slip from yoongi’s silver tongue have you throwing your head back, light perspiration licking at your skin as he takes the opportunity to ravish your neck once more. “got me so worked up, thinking bout those beautiful tits,“ his words start to slur as his free hand grips your breast squeezing them hard, so hard that you’re fearful they might start to leak. “can’t wait to taste that sweet milk, that you make for my baby. mine.” 

yoongi ends his sentence in a grunt, cock thrusting mercilessly into your weeping hole, as he takes you over and over. words barely form on your lips, drowned out by the sound of skin slapping on skin and the moans that urge each other on.  he drops his head to the junction between your neck and shoulder, hot breath tickling at your skin while you tug at his hair, his thick length pumping in and out of you, dragging you closer to the edge.

“yours, im all yours,” you whimper and clutch him closely as the tip of his cock brushes over that spot. tears spring in your eyes, yoongi’s hips rocking back and forth inside of you— the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter. “i’m so close, please yoongi—daddy.” 

he draws himself from your neck, pressing his forehead to yours once more as he mimics your pants, chest heaving with yours as you both draw to a close. 

“cum with me sweetheart, i’ve got you...d-daddy’s got you—“ his breathing stutters, the feeling of you clenching around him becoming too much for him to bare as his thrusts become sloppy. “let me pump you full of my seed, give you another baby—“ 

“ohgod, yoongi!” 

he pants out the last part, desperate to bring you to release. you know that his words are impossible, but the steer you on nonetheless, a blinding light flashing behind your eyes as a wave of goosebumps rise across the planes of your skin. you stumble into your orgasm, releasing onto his cock and fall into yoongi’s arms, spasming as he whispers cotton candy words into your ears while he chases after his own high.

“fuck baby, you’re so good for me, my beautiful girl.” he stammers out, tripping over his words as he fills you up with the seed of his orgasm. with trembling arms, yoongi collapses to your side, lips bright red and swollen, glass milk skin bruised and bitten. he looks beautiful like this, hair slightly frazzled from your exploring fingers as his chest rises and falls. he’s extraordinary. the executive shuffles, pulling you into his chest and kissing into your hairline with a small smile to his face. “you’re staring.” 

“i love you-“ you blurt, mind cleaning from the post orgasmic haze. you know that the words have been said already, before you tumbled into the sheets with the man beside you— but this time it feels different, feels more real. you love min yoongi with all that you have, from this nose scrunch when he laughs, to the creases between his brows when he concentrates, everything about him is something that you love. 

“i know,” he whispers, bumping your nose with his in an eskimo kiss. 

you blink back, lacing your fingers. “no yoongi, i’m in love with you—“

“i know,” yoongi chuckles, taking your hand in his before brushing his lips against your knuckles sweetly. “and i hope to god that the heavens know how much i’m in love with you.” 

nine months.

“strip.” 

he utters the command, simple— yoongi bends your will to suit him best. he loves having control over you, making you follow his every wish. you’re his little pet, and he’ll do with you as he pleases. shuffling, you pull off the his shirt that you wear— revealing that you’d gone bra less in favour for comfort. the executive let’s put a deep groan that has your nipples hardening just by the sound,  helpless whimper escaping your lips. 

“look at you baby, all swollen and leaking for me... daddy wishes he was there to punish you himself.” 

you pout heavily at his words, like you had when yoongi left two weeks into your third trimester for a three day business trip in the states. it was important, you knew that, he was finally closing the deal to debut The Red Label over there— he has big plans for the label and making you realise then, that your lover cared for the company more than you initially thought.  

“miss you, daddy,” you gasp, writhing under his gaze through the facetime camera— adjusting it so he could see your rising bump. “both of us do.” 

your third trimester was easier than expected, despite the aching feet and the constant desire to pee at the most inappropriate of times— the last few weeks of your pregnancy were on track to going well. your newfound boyfriend, yoongi, made sure to take care of you too, with sweet massages and passionate kisses, possessive touches to the waist and keeping your pregnancy hormones in check. 

ever since that night you couldn’t help but jump yoongi’s bones at any chance you got— not that he minded, he always said that being with you was like being together for the first time again. even if it was late nights before bed or five minutes before yoongi was due for a meeting, he still was tender with you, loving with you. he still loved you. 

your friends and family had instantly detected the shift in your relationship too, seokjin and namjoon giving your boyfriend the ‘you hurt my little sister and i’ll-“ talk. you know that they meant well, after all, who could imagine how far yoongi had come since the start of this all. he had begun your pregnancy as a disinterested asshole, who only cared for money or himself. he had no intent of bringing a child into the word but he really had stepped up since then, proven himself a worthy father to not just the baby, but yourself. 

“you look gorgeous, so round and full...” he whispers, tired eyes watching you through the screen. his milky skin reflects a warm orange hue from the hum of the hotel lights, his hair ruffled from the stresses of the day. you close your eyes, biting your lip as your boyfriend lets out an amused chuckle— shaking his head. “wanna fuck you good, keep you pregnant. love how you look carrying my baby.” 

“yoongi...”

“yes, sweetheart?” 

“please...”

your boyfriend tilts his head, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth before leaning back in his chair as if he’s deciding what to do with you next—you know that you’re at his mercy, even if you’re a thousand miles apart. “touch yourself for me...but don’t you dare cum until i say so.” the man before you tuts, grinning evilly. “start with your nipples, sweetheart, i know they’re sensitive.” 

you follow his words, keeping your eyes on his as you guide your fingers to your hardened buds— swirling them in circles with a quiet whimper, eliciting a similar sound from your lover abroad. “more...want more...” you gasp, feeling on edge from the stimulation. 

“go ahead angel, touch yourself like daddy would.”

following his voice, your finger tips drift across your skin with a feather light touch, nothing like yoongi’s— but it will do for now. slowly, you move your laptop onto the sheets, giving your lover a clear view of the flower you hide between your legs, watching him shiver at the sight of your glistening hole. with shaky breaths, you start to rub shy circles into your clit— drawing patterns and figures of eight just like yoongi would.  pleasure tingles at every tip and joint in your body, trickling through your veins as your wetness drips down your thighs, just from the thoughts of yoongi watching you. 

“eyes open for me sweetheart,” he reminds you, guiding you gently to push two fingers past your entrance. you thrash in the sheets, desperate for more, to touch what only yoongi could reach— your hips buck up involuntarily at the thought of his large hands spreading you apart, fingers curling as the walls of your cervix pulse hotly around him. “that’s a good girl, doing so well for me, hm?” yoongi praises you, leaning into the screen. 

“mhm, your good girl...” you respond breathlessly, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy as you spasm and twitch with arousal. a beautiful mess is what yoongi would call it, your slick paints your thighs with a glossy essence— illuminating your skin as you curl your digits in search for that special spot. “god please please please!” you chant as yyour thighs shake with delight, the feeling only heightened by yoongi’s constant praise, your hips move desperately to catch up with your fingers that run at their own pace.

“slow down angel, don’t you wanna be good for daddy?”

you want to roll your eyes at your boyfriend, but knowing him— he’d only extended your punishment. “no,” you mumble, almost sternly, picking up the speed and curling your fingers, dragging them across your walls as you let out a high pitched squeal. “wanna cum.” 

yoongi pauses and that’s when you know that you have him wrapped around your finger. a few pleases here and there have him nodding in permission for you to cum. your whole body shakes with delectation while yoongi coaxed you through your orgasm— stars twinkling behind your eyes as your released splashed out and coats your fingers. 

“fuck baby, you did such a good job for me— put on such a pretty show for me...” the executive curses, shifting in discomfort. you can tell by the look on his face, parted lips and a crease between his brow, that he’s struggling to hold down his arousal. while left shaking and heavily pregnant, you some how manage to shift into a comfortable position— giving yoongi the puppy dog eyes. 

“did daddy cum too?” 

“no baby,” 

a beat of silence and a grin from you. “please daddy, wanna see you cum too...”

a broken moan escapees from the confines of yoongi’s cherry lips, making you hum in satisfaction from across the globe. within an instant, the position of your boyfriend’s camera has changed— tilted down so you can get a good view of his cock springing free from his tight grey joggers. yoongi fists his length, hissing at the sensitivity, he’s bond turned on at this point. his cock stands at full attention, bright red tip burning in desperation as clear precum oozes heavily from its centre. throwing his head back, he begins to pump his girth, thick and wide, which makes your mouth water at the thought of it filling you up and stretching you open again.

“cum for me, yoonie,” you whisper, he’s barely three or four strokes in— too pent up to wait any longer, you have no idea how long he’s been holding it for. yoongi cums then and there, chest heaving with his dark hair matted to his forehead. thick ropes of his hot seed coats his knuckles, a shade much paler than his own skin. 

you smile brightly when your lover comes to, busying yourself by pulling his shirt back over your head and inhaling its scent— firewood and pine, reminding you of him. yoongi smirks lazily as he uses a tissue to wipe up his mess before tilting the web cam up to his face for a better view, he chuckles deeply and shakes his head like before. “god, YN, the things you do to me,” he muses, rolling his eyes at your antics. 

you mirror his smile, pressing a kiss to the screen as if he was really there. “you love me.”

“i do, so much.” 

“and i love you, even more.”

although yoongi was meant to be returning today, you hadn’t been expecting any guests. 

the jingle of keys in the lock captures you’re attention, the re-run of ‘real house wives’ not doing anything to interest you. you weren’t expecting your lover for another few hours but perhaps this was his way of apologising for leaving so suddenly. yoongi had seemed stressed this morning when you called after your OB appointment, showing more pictures from your scans with dr. jihyo park— he’d shown little excitement towards the life you’d created together, which was highly unusual for him.

nonetheless, you adjust yoongi’s sweater around you and wrap your arms around your baby bump protectively, moving from your comfortable position in the depths of your couch in search of your lover. 

what you don’t expect, is the click of high heels against your marble floor.

what you least expect is the woman paired with them.

anyone with a pair of working eyes, or even less would know how beautiful of a woman she was. her skin was golden, dipped in honey and kissed by the gods of the above— unblemished and untouched. she had sharp features, cat like eyes, the colour of molasses paired with thick lashes and eyeliner that could cut diamonds. obsidian black and curled locks tumbled carelessly down her shoulders, framing her face perfectly whilst her ruby red dress hugged the dips and curves of her body— matching the blood red painted onto her lips. 

she was stunning. 

the stranger, however, seems too comfortable in your home. she knows exactly where to hang her keys and to put her jacket— she opens a letter that you know must be addressed to yoongi and simply tosses it aside as she struts through your home like she owns the place. it’s not until you’re standing out in the open for her to see, that she stops her actions, tilting her head into the air as if it’ll answer the questions in her puzzled mind.  

“i wasn’t aware that minmin had hired new staff, i’m joohee.” she introduces herself, clear voice echoing across the hall. 

you frown, rubbing your arm at her words. “who’s minmin?” 

“your boss? min yoongi.” joohee answers confusedly as she approaches you, handing you her luggage expectantly. a pitiful smile crosses her plump, devil lips as she eyes your bump— making your skin crawl and coddle it protectively. “you’re pregnant? how far along are you? such a shame that minmin didn’t give you any time off. his values can be pretty off-“ 

you drop joohee’s bag as you listen to her blabber, her voice becoming patronising and sickly to your ears. she looks as if she’s about to have her way with you, tear into you like a lost little lamb but you won’t dare be disrespected in your own home. “listen lady,” you seethe, hating that you look like the pregnant angry lady. “i don’t know who you are, or what business you have with my boyfriend but i am not the help. now if you don’t mind, i’d like you to leave my home before i cal” security.” 

the women before you lets her lips part with shock, quickly adjusting herself as if she’d been a doll in repair. her midnight eyes look you up and down while a cruel smirk as she takes her sunglasses from her air and toys with them between her perfectly white teeth. 

“ah, i see, yoongi’s been out to play while i’ve been away. you’d think he’d be loyal to his wife— wouldn’t you?” 

“w-wife?” you stammer, heart plummeting in your chest. you hadn’t noticed the diamond ring nestled comfortably on her ring finger— as if it had been there the whole time. 

joohee smiles again, one that could be on the front cover of vogue. “three years and counting, darling, who could have guessed.” her words are like bullets to the chest, taking you down one by one. your heart burns with an unfamiliar sensation— heartache? betrayal? you can’t tell. everything seems foggy, all lies with smoke and mirrors. you had to have known at some point that it was too good to be true. “some water, darling?” 

you shake your head at joohee, not realising the hand that claws at your throat. panic and pain crawl through your chest and hide in the ridges of your throat as you struggle to find the words to face the devil dressed in red satin. “no... i just, i just need a moment—“ you whisper, fiery tears burning in your eyes and threatening to scorch at the apples of your cheeks.

“take all the time you need, dearest.” 

you move swiftly from there, running to the nursery and grabbing the hospital bag you’ll need for the baby’s delivery before heading to yourself and yoongi’s shared bedroom. you stare at the room with disgust and hatred, you’d shared too many loving moments with this man for it to be true. he lied to you, lied to her most probably. 

you realise now that you were just another pawn in the game of chess called min yoongi.

through broken sobs, you manage to pack enough of your clothes to last you until you have time to come back. and so with trembling hands— you dial the phone and listen to it ring once before it picks up. 

“hello?” 

“seokjin?” 

“yes, YN— what’s wrong? are you... are you crying?” 

“please...come pick me up...” 

there are no more words as the line goes dead, a little piece inside of you— dying as well. 

yoongi had known something was off that night when he came home. a seventy-two hour stay in the states was more than exhausting— dealing with press and foreign interviewers who only wanted to hear about ‘american inspirations’ the debut collection. the executive had wanted to tell them proudly, that it had been you leading the design team, his YN but he stuck with his simple answers of gucci and dior to appease the crowd. all he wanted now, was to curl up with his darling girlfriend and their unborn child. 

except... something was off. 

the house had been dark when he came in, a new set of keys by the door and an unfamiliar suitcase. yoongi knew, if there was anything to go by, that you would have the hum of real house wives on and the smell of those salted kale chips he made you eat— wafting through the air. but instead, the sultry tones of old, familiar jazz oozed from his living room accompanied by the soft sounds of glass on glass and wine pouring. 

wine.

“where is she? you bitch.” yoongi never swore at a woman, his mother raised him better than that but he heated the way joohee leisured on his couch— the couch where he lay with you for countless nights— sipping at a bottle of red wine. “answer me!” 

joohee barely flinched at the raise in the dark haired male’s voice, simply choosing to pour another glass of the fruity liquid for the man himself. “she left minmin, who wouldn’t after finding out their little boy toy is married.” she teased, each word she spat like poison from were sweet lips. 

“divorced, joohee, fucking divorced.” he heaved. “what the fuck did you tell her?” 

“correction, divorcing and only what she needed to hear.” 

yoongi remembers how fast he’d moved across the room, slamming his fist down on the coffee table so hard that it had almost shattered the glasses. that time, joohee had jumped, never had she ever seen yoongi so mad, so angry. “get the fuck out, walk out of the door and out of my life. it’s what you’re fucking good at.” 

joohee left not a minute later, leaving yoongi alone in the dark of his home. your home. the home you were supposed to share with one another, build a life in. he hadn’t wanted that with joohee, not after she ruined him and broke what soul he had. you were the one to have brought min yoongi back to life, but now, he had lost you.

min yoongi hadn’t cried in a long time, but tonight would be the first since then. 

“YN...he’s calling again.” 

you look up briefly from folding freshly washed baby blankets and grows, to stare down at the phone that sits between yourself and yura before going back to the task at hand. 

“ignore it.” 

yura sighs, hitting decline before resuming her own activities— munching on the snacks yoongi had packed in your baby bag. ever since that night, seokjin had made sure you were guarded by at least one of your friends or family members. since you’d moved back in with him, either he or joon would watch you throughout the night, holding you while you cried your heart out. seokjin swore that the stress wasn’t good for the baby and that he’d  kill min yoongi if he ever saw the ‘fucker again’ but you couldn’t help it, the man that you loved so deeply, the one who’s child you carry lied to you and tore your heart in two. 

how could anyone lie about something like that?

moments pass before the phone rings again and you quickly reach over to hang up once more. “you really should talk to him YN. not for your sake but for the baby’s..” yura mumbles after a while, sucking the salt from her fingers as if she’s worried you’ll burst out mad at her. “maybe it’s not what you think—“ 

“how can it not be? he had a wife yura, he’s married! there’s no explanation for that!” you almost yell, clutching one of the grows to your chest tightly as if it’ll protect your heart. 

“but maybe—“ 

“stop trying to defend him!” 

“i’m not!” 

“then shut up, shut up because you don’t know anything.” you add sternly as your bottom lip starts to wobble, you breathe heavily trying to calm yourself down. the slight twinge in your lower belly doesn’t distract you from the pain in your heart. “you don’t know what it’s like to fall for someone like this, to think you have it all and then—“

yura looks at you patiently, one of her greatest traits. she didn’t lose her temper with you or fall into screaming matches when your hormones got the best of you. she may have been slightly ticked at you, but she knew better than to show it. “the what?” she comments, brow raising in interest. 

“nothing... i just, im sorry, i shouldn’t have yelled.” you bite your lip, putting down the small item of clothing and running a hand over your face. your roommate only shakes her head fondly, rubbing your shoulders, she knows this entire thing has been hard for you. you’d never planned to have a baby this early on in your life, you wanted big things and had major plans. 

and you gave it all up for yoongi. 

your friend smiles sadly, letting you go before heading to the doorway. “it’s okay, YN... i’ll give you some alone time.” 

she does just that, giving you room to breathe as a million thoughts and what ifs cross your mind. what if you’d never met yoongi? would you be the same person you are now, back then? would you want this? would you— a burning sensation spikes in your lower back, making you double over in pain, this hadn’t been like any pain you’d experienced before, nothing like the braxton hicks you’d been warned about. and then, there’s a light gush between your thighs— panic soaring in your chest. 

“y-yura-!” you gasp, steadying yourself on the nearest surface as the pain subsided unlike the fear and nerves that cloud your mind. “a-are you still there?” 

the girl scoffs playfully from the hallway, making herself known. “of course i am, i’m your babysitter remember? i wouldn’t actually leave you.” she mumbles, tone quietening as you whine with the next oncoming contraction. “YN...are you alright?” 

you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping the dresser so hard your knuckles turn white with the force. “yura... i think— i think my water just broke...”

“oh shit.” 

this, this was pain. 

yura whispers praise into your hairline while nurses flurry in and out of your room— she’d called your brother not long ago who was on his way from his last shift at work. you didn’t want to be alone. “why, why did i go through with this?” you whine, hair plastered against your forehead with sweat. people are surrounding you, telling you to push and then not to, everything is too overwhelming and all you want is the baby out of you. 

everything that could possibly go wrong, was going wrong. an ambulance had been unable to pick you up from your brother’s home, the delivery plan having been registered to yoongi’s house— meaning that your roomate had to drive you all the way to hospital herself, getting lost on the way. now you were being wheeled through the hell hole, on the way for your delivery.

“because you wanted this baby and you wanted it him?” yura suggests, squeezing your hand tightly— only wincing when you squeeze it back with the start of a contraction. “would now be a bad time tell you that i called yoongi?” 

“you what?” you screech, barely having time to be mad as another wave of pain hits burns at your waist. god, did you even think this part through? you barely register the door opening, another presence instantly by your side. your body responds naturally , calming in response to the man that’s now beside you. 

yoongi grips hand, and if you weren’t in so much pain you would have torn away— your heartbeat ceasing in your but you know that you need him here. the time to talk will be later. “im sorry,” he mumbles quietly as they prepare you for the delivery room. “im sorry i did this to you, that i hurt you and i know that you don’t want me here right now, but im not going anywhere. not when you need me.” 

curling in on yourself at the student wave on pain, you take a chance and stare up into his eyes— searching for the truth, for an answer. “okay,” you breathe, unsure of what you’ve uncovered behind yoongi’s dark eyes. “okay, lets do this.” 

the executive nods at the nurses to make a move for the private delivery rooms he’d booked earlier on in your pregnancy. he squeezes your hand with a promise to yura that he’d take care of you, while you brought new life into the world. 

“she’s waiting for you, y’know.” 

yoongi doesn’t dare to look up, choosing to focus on the scuff on his shoes as a distraction from the conversation that is to come. it’s been hours, three or four, since the delivery— the birth of his child smooth sailing from the moment he took your hand but through all the screaming and cursing at him, yoongi couldn’t help but think of what he had lost. a family, a life with you. 

but now, your room was packed with the family you had built before him, namjoon cradling you’re infant in his arms as yura cooed away— playing with tiny fingers. the executive didn’t feel like he belonged, like he didn’t deserve to be in there with you. 

seokjin clears his throat with a roll of his shoulders before taking a seat next to the latter. as much as your brother despised yoongi, he knew in his heart that you were meant to be together. he’d seen you both grow from cold, isolated human beings into the warmth that a child needed to be in the world. seokjin would do this for you. for you and the baby. 

“look,” the elder starts, elbows on his knees to support himself as he rubs his hands together, ordering over his next choice of words. “i never liked you, i knew that you’d break her somehow—“ yoongi scoffs, cutting the other kim sibling off, as the words nick his heart. “— but i also know that she gave a lot up for you because she loves you. that mother in there, YN, is going to need all the help she can get and christ be damned that i’m going to give it to her but that baby... that baby is going to need a father. so either you step up and prove to her that you’re still in this or you take your leave now.” seokjin warns, this time— sparing a dark glare to a now intimidated min yoongi. “because the last thing they now need, is another let down.” 

the executive blinks, taking a moment to ponder your brother’s words. “i understand, thank you.” 

seokjin nods, moving into your room to round up your family— giving yoongi the space he needs to explain himself to you. when he enters, you have the baby swaddled in your arms with a look that says it all. that your entire world is right here with you. a look that makes yoongi fall in love with you all over again. 

“he’s beautiful,” you whisper, having heard the male come in— sparing him a short glance before looking back down at your baby, afraid that if you look away for too long, he’ll disappear. “don’t you think?”

the dark haired man can’t help but nod, approaching you slowly to admire his son— a small little thing with beautiful eyes to match your own and a head full of curls, just as dark as yoongi’s. “we made a beautiful little thing.” he comments, leaning down to brush his thumb over little min’s cheek. yoongi looks up, not realising how you watch him with tenderness, this was how it was supposed to be. “YN...i-“

“yoongi.” you breathe, turning back to focus on your baby. 

“i’m sorry, i should have told you— about joohee— about my marriage with her, which is over by the way...” yoongi hates how you flinch at the mention of his ex, reaching out to grab your hand. he breathes a sigh of relief when you don’t pull away like he expected you too. “we’re getting a divorce.” 

you gasp, all of your emotions flying at you at once. joohee had failed to mention that fact to you, something you might have heard if you’d heard yoongi out. “but she said—“ 

“i was with her a long time ago, back when i was working in daegu and she changed. the industry changed and she did too. joohee became manipulative and rude and—“ the executive closes his eyes, taking a moment to reflect. he’d never opened up about this before, but he needed you to understand...maybe forgive him. he needed to be in his child’s life. “and we weren’t working anymore, giving each other what we needed. i wanted white pickett fences, a dog, a family but she wanted all the money in the world and i couldn’t give her that.” he breathes, and you squeeze his hand. “but i met you at that party where i felt so free,”

his words come out as jumbled, becoming a ramble causing you to shake your head and grip the man’s wrist tighter. “yoongi.” 

“and then this happened and  i knew that i wanted all of that with you and our son and i’m so sorry that i put you through all of that pain, for not telling you—“

“min yoongi—“

“and i just miss you so much that it hurts, i want to be with you...”

“god min yoongi just shut up and kiss me!” you repeat your words from early on, using the hand that held his to pull him closer, pressing his lips against yours in a forgiving kiss. you pour all of your words and emotions into the movement of your lips against his, your love, your pain, your passion. you love him, you do— with all your heart and soul, the pair of you being mindful of the baby between you as you hold each other near and dear. “i-i love you,” you stammer, pressing your forehead against his. yoongi smiles, lips hovering over your own, he’s about to lean in for another kiss when your little boy gurgles between you. “and i love you too baby.” 

“does he have a name yet?” 

“i was waiting for you...”

yoongi smiles, letting your baby boy wrap his tiny fingers around his own. your body lights up with joy, if someone had told you— nine months ago, that you would end up with the worlds most beautiful baby boy, a man that you loved and a family that supported you... you would have laughed but now you’ve seen, that sometimes life has unexpected twists, good and bad. 

but luckily for you, you’d had a good one. “joonwoo,” your lover hums, kissing the top of your babies head before giving you the very same kiss. “that should be his name.” 

“joonwoo, meaning protection,” you mumble in a wordless agreement, observing your family. joonwoo had been a name you picked out with yoongi one night during the early stages of your pregnancy—you were surprised that he’d even remembered.  “it’s perfect.” yoongi would have your white pickett fences, your dog and your family home but for now, you would enjoy the moment— enjoy the time with your boys and wait for what the future would hold. 

you couldn’t wait to see where you’d be in another nine months from now. 

“ahaha! look, they’re kissing! what did i tell you guys? thats twenty bucks… each!” taehyung exclaims happily, removing his face from the glass as he watches the happy family through it. jimin only rolls his eyes from behind his lover, arms aching slightly from the abundance of gifts he holds in them. 

yura rolls her shoulders, having half a mind to shove the blue haired male over but she knows you’d give her an earful if she did. “fuck you,” she groans as she passes over the cash.

“i do that already!” jimin chirps from behind. 

that’s when seokjin sweeps in, taking the money from taehyung with a happy smile. much to the disdain of the latter. “but i called it! he’s a boy.” the elder smirks, counting the bills. taehyung pouts in response, clinging to his boyfriend who only rolls his eyes at the group’s antics. 

“but y’all are forgetting, the most important thing...” namjoon adds, taking the money from seokjin and smirking smugly at the shocked faces he receives. “i won the bet cus they’re getting married.”  the brunette reveals in a sing song tone, pulling the ring box that yoongi entrusted him with. namjoon only chuckles as the group descends into chaos.

this baby was in for one hell of a family.

⇢ author’s note(s): thank you all so much for reading!! please let me know what you think and have a wonderful day or night <3

[alkhale]

change the channel (Ko-Fi Request) Kenma Kozume/Camgirl!Omega!Reader

hello! Id love a kenma x reader fic (maybe a/b/o) ?? Also, thank you so so much for writing so many amazing fanfics :) every time I read a new chapter from any of your stories, it makes my day <3 

OFC COURSE YOU CAN!!!! And thank you so much for your support and for your donation! AND THANK YOU!! I know this one is long overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

I’m also killing two birds with this one, it’s substituting for Typetober Day 16: back and forth (using change the channel instead)

title: change the channel

pairing: Kenma Kozume/Omega!Reader

rating: T/very slight M

summary:

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

link to AO3 for easier reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446191

Omegachion has signed on!

The monitor screen flickers to life. 

An empty room appears. A plush, pink cushioned desk chair is in view. Along the cream, soft colored walls are a series of posters that usual garner less attention. A bookshelf is tucked to the side, complete with a set of potted plants hanging in clean pots—clearly loved. Within the stack of books sits shelves stuffed full with what looks to be discs and an assortment of other items.

The website's main frame appears—SecondGlanceStreaming.com. The design is sleek and black—clean and unassuming. A password is prompted, followed by a series of typed keys and then a click.

On the side of the screen a chatroom appears, coupled with a monitored security system in place established by the website. A cherry icon pops to life. Once the chatroom opens, the entire website flickers with light.

Omegalovers has signed on.

Rockyroadncream has signed on.

Omegasarekings has signed on.

Cumqueen324 has signed on.

Mrknottt has signed on.

Msbyjackalboi23 has signed on.

Openwideandsmile has signed on.

Sunnydayandnight has signed on.

Marshmellowtime has signed on.

Thecoolestalpha has signed on.

Bettagetbeta has signed on.

KingKodzuken has signed on.

Kodzu00 has signed on.

The chatrooms explodes with messages. A series of greetings are quickly issued by long-time fans and watchers of the streams, asking how your day was and how you’re feeling. A few more perverse, slimy messages are mixed in-between, demanding for the crude and obscene. A few others snipe back, telling the users to get their hands out of their pants while a series of other users greet each other instead, talking about the excitement over tonight's stream.

You hang back a bit, one arm crossed under your chest, puffed up with the fleecy soft fabric of your jacket while the other hand holds a jelly drink, sipping it in silence. You watch the chatroom explode, quickly gaining more and more users as others signed on to your stream. You check the time on your phone, sighing before you finish off your drink and toss it into the trash can.

You place the fuzzy bunny mask over your eyes, checking how you look in the mirror. You swipe your mouth with your thumb, applying your lip gloss and then smiling cutely at your reflection.

“Alright,” you say. “The goal tonight is 7,000 cherries… you got this!”

You clap your hands over your face and beam. Showtime.

You slide into the monitor’s view, the webcam flickering to life. The chat comes back with more force, messages spamming into the box and a series of cherries already floating into the screen. You beam, laughing as you wave to your viewers and blow them all kisses. “Hello! Hello everyone! I love to see so many of you are so punctual… Needy omegas like me… we love reliable people, you know?”

You hold back a snicker as the chat increases with your words. People shooting messages back at you as you let out a cute giggle. Tonight’s outfit is nothing but a cotton candy pink fleece zip-up that falls to the top of your thighs, also exposing your bare, smooth collarbones. It’s a special occasion, so you’re going the extra mile.

“How are we all doing tonight?” you ask sweetly, holding your chin up with your hands as you watch the chatroom, skimming over the responses. “Aw, Bettagetbeta, I’m sorry to hear that! I hope things get better for you… do you need a hug?”

Cherry icons pop up over your screen. 50. 30. 10. You smile, opening your arms to the camera. “There! I’ll make all your problems go away, okay?”

You bat your eyes under the mask, showing them your bare wrists and giving them a little rub with your thumbs. “You can scent me if you’d like… would that make you feel better?”

Bettagetbeta has gifted you 30 cherries!

Bigboialpha has gifted you 350 cherries!

“Bigboialpha!” you squeak, covering your mouth with your hands. “That’s too sweet of you! Did you want to scent me that badly?”

Your chatroom shakes from the force of scrambled messages. You smile, shyly running a finger up and down the slightly swollen scent glands of your wrist. You’ve timed this just right—and just as you thought, your viewers notice too, instantly spamming the boxes with more fervent messages, begging to scent you, begging to be with you, wrap you up in their smells—

(God, you make me want to vomit.)

“If you’re extra good,” you say sweetly, “you could… maybe even…”

You tease show off more of your bare shoulder, showing a pink bra strap. You slightly expose the side of your neck, bringing your fingers up dangerously close to your most sensitive scent glands. Cherry icons flash across the screen and you hold back an excited grin, feet tapping anxiously underneath your desk.

There’s a new flurry of disgusting messages, of big, handsome alphas promising to do all kinds of things to you if you’d let them. You roll your eyes under your mask, holding back curling your lip in disgust as they prattle on about how they’d take care of you, make you feel so, so good and—

“All right, all right, that’s enough teasing, right?” you say. “Everyone, thank you so much for signing on again tonight! If you’re new to my streams, welcome! We’re so happy to have you. I’m lucky to have you. It’s a special night tonight, you know why?”

Gonna come for us on screen?

Face reveal! Face reveal!

Omegachion i would do anything for u

Pls let me touch u

Take off ur jacket

Stfu and let her talk u horn dogs

Fking disgusting dont ruin the stream

Open ur legs, baby girl

“Because!” you say, throwing your arms into the air. You spin once in your chair, showing off the room and stopping right in front of the screen again. “I just got it in the mail today…”

You bring up the sleek red box that’d been waiting to the side of your desk. You beam, showing it off to your viewers. “Tadah! Do you know what this is? It’s a gift from our generous website hosts—a gift for reaching the Gold Status on streaming! Everyone, thank you so much! I couldn’t have done this without you!”

The chatroom pops with congratulations. There’s some demanding comments, ordering for a consolation prize. You skim through them all, smiling a bit at the paragraphs of kind words and thanks. They’re the viewers you wish you could treat with a little more care, give them something a little more for all they do.

“Want to see what the gift was?” you ask. You pop open the lid and show off the gift—a dark red, leather collar coupled with a golden dog tag. It’s a stylish thing, slim fitted and clearly of great quality, there’s a thickened edge to the leather, coupled with a lock and key.

It’s an omega collar.

You smile through your teeth. The stench of the perfume from the box makes you want to wretch, but you hold it for the camera as your viewers beg you to put it on. “Oh, I don’t know… should I?”

You play with it, showing it off to them against the column of your neck. They’re feverish and desperate. 

“I don’t deserve something this nice,” you say, shaking your head.

Tease

Don’t cover up that beautiful neck

Dont blueball us

I only want to see u in my collar

“That’s right,” you say innocently. “I don’t want to cover up what belongs to you guys…” you show off your neck to them again, touching with your fingertips your own bonding gland, unmarked and bare. The chatroom is almost unrecognizable, going off into a feeding frenzy.

You turn back to the screen, smiling.

(You’re like babies.)

You drop the box out of view of the camera into your trashcan, kicking it under the table with more force than necessary. You ought to burn the fucking thing but leather probably doesn’t burn well. 

I can’t believe I’m already at 4,000 cherries. You feel excitement replace the disgust, toes curling against your hardwood floor. You got this, amp it up a little bit.

“Since I couldn’t have made it this far without all of you,” you say, touching a hand to your chest and playing with your zipper. “I wanted to do something special—not just this stream! But a nice little event, how does that sound?”

You click your mouse, opening up a new box and icon for your viewers. “Can everyone see the royalty program alright? Yeah? Perfect! If you look, you’ll see the cute little banner we had set up and everything.”

You hold up your phone, smiling beside it. “For these set prices, I’ll be doing a series of special events, just for all of you guys for all the support you’ve given me!”

You point.

“50 cherries and you get a sweet text with a picture from me,” you say. “Each picture will be different, and none of them alike! Keep it between us though, okay? Hehe, I mean it! For 100 cherries, I’ll do a one minute call and for 300 cherries, a three minute call, just with you! For 500, we’ll do a private web-chat session and finally, the big one…”

You smile, “For 1,500 cherries, I’ll be doing a special, in-person meet and greet! How does that sound?”

The reactions are instantaneous.

Cherries already start popping up all over your screen, users filling out the roles and eagerly thanking you for everything while others spit at the prices. You ignore those comments, secretly marking certain users to be blocked. You know the last one is outrageous, how could it not be? Did they think you’d want to meet with any of them? You’d discussed this with several other streamers and they’d all done similar things—this deterred creeps and kept you safe. Usually no one ended up doing the meet and greet. It was too expensive. 

It was foolproof.

I can’t wait to hear your voice

Will it be nudes

I want nudes

Thank you so much for doing this!

“I should be the one thanking you guys!” you squeal. Your eyes dart to the corner of your screen, watching the cherries roll in. Your heartbeat accelerates and you do the quick math in your head. “Oh my goodness! Sitwhereveryoulike, thank you so much for the Cherries! And you too, theprettiestalpha! Thank you!”

As it should be. You grin at the screen, prattling on with sweet words and thanks. You teasingly unzip a little more of your jacket, greedily watching the cherries pop-up all over the screen, trying to make conversation where you can and—

A single chat bubble pops up in the corner. You almost miss the question, but you’re almost certain your eyes don’t betray you. If you hadn’t seen the title so many times, you would’ve blown right past it.

(But you’re a true fan, down to your core, you could never miss a mention of—)

Is your username based on Water Emblem?

“Hello, Kodzu00!” you say quickly, trying to stifle your surprise. “Yes, it is! You must be new to the streams.”

You gesture behind you, smiling shyly at the poster of Varth on the back of your wall. “I’m actually a bit of a fan! I know the series is old and everyone’s excited for the new reboots, but I grew up with the old one.”

Ah, stop right there, don’t keep talking about it. You’re going to lose viewers! Your fingers fly back to your zipper, teasingly dragging it down another inch. You could talk about Water Emblem for hours, but you can’t—this is a stream after all. “Bigboialpha! I guess we’ll be having that private webchat after all… mhm! I’m looking forward to it—huh? What I’ll be wearing? Well…”

You cutely run your fingers up and down the column of your neck, bringing their attention back to your scent glands. “Would you… pick for me?”

You almost gag at the comment suggestions. You watch more cherries roll in—shit, another 500? I might make my goal after all! No, you would make your goal. You have to. The sooner you rake in the dough from these streams, the sooner you could—

For the meet and greet, would it be in person?

You blink, startled by the question. You quickly glance back to the username. Kudzu00 again? “Uh, yes! Yes, it would be~ I’d pick a nice location for us and we’d meet. Wouldn’t that be nice everyone?”

For how long?

Who even is this lol

Damn big bucks

Show us the tits already

Pls sit on my face

Your outfit is so cute today!

You swallow nervously. Calm down. What are you even freaking out for? No one in their right mind was ever going to drop that much money to meet with some stranger from the internet—no one.

“Fifteen minutes,” you say cheerfully, keeping one eye on the chat. Have I seen this user before? “There’s a lot we could do—ah, I mean talk about in fifteen minutes, right?”

Kodzu00 is typing…

The chat bubble disappears. You eye it for a few more seconds before shrugging your shoulders. Shake it off. You needed to keep this celebration stream going. You slyly bring your bare knees up and watch the chat go a little more wild, quick questions being shot about whether or not you’re wearing anything under that jacket. You keep the conversations going, sweetly asking the users about what they’d like to do, what kind of pictures and if—

A bright icon flashes on your screen. You glance over.

Kodzu00 has gifted you 3,000 cherries!

You freeze.

On your monitor the chat continues to fire off. A few people notice the notification. You blink, once, twice, before taking a second glance at the numbers.

3,000.

3,000 cherries?

3,000….

The calculation is quick in your head. You’re terribly good with money, sadly. The final statement minus the small deduction for processing appears in your mind’s eye and you balk.

HOLY FUCK.

Lol i think u broke her

God damn

Congratulations, Omegachion!

“K-K-Kodzu00!” you say, head spinning. “Thank you so much! Oh—oh my goodness! Thank you so much for your donation!” What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— “I can’t believe you’d be so generous! Thank you so much! I’m so excited to meet you! Our first meet and greet!”

WHAT THE FUCK?

You quickly try to hold your composure, continuing with the stream. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Finish the show! You laugh, trying not to look at the history of the notification and focusing on your show instead. You thank every piece of good sense inside you for using a mask, hiding the sweat rolling down your face as you teasingly stand up for your audience, bending down a bit.

“Now, how about we end the night with a little… cuddle, hmm?” you say shakily, unzipping your jacket the rest of the way to show off the lacy, soft pink color of your bra. The chat bubbles pop up by the dozens, but you never see even a lick of Kodzu00 again. What the hell? “C’mon, you know how badly I wish you were here to scent me… wrap me up in that smell of yours…”

(Give them what they all want.)

What feels like hours finally passes in a span of minutes and you quickly say goodbye to your watchers, blowing them a kiss and zipping your jacket backup as you finally sign off. You sit there, staring at the screen of your loading page, dumbfounded.

Limply, your finger finds its way to your mouse. You give it a click.

The final total for your earnings tonight appears in a tacky, almost shady colored box. You stare at it in silence.

9,750 Cherries.

Nine…. Nine thousand…

Almost 1,000,000 yen? 

“Yes!” you screech, grabbing your head with your hands as you fly up from your chair. You kick the stupid, plush pink thing aside. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

This is insane! You almost want to cry in disbelief. This is—this is it! This is what I needed! I’m so close! I’m so close! You know the other streams won’t rake in nearly as much, but this is the final push you needed—if you kept up this kind of participation for another few months, your fees would be nothing! You’d be able to even afford a little extra and get something nice, replace your bathtub and treat yourself to an expensive dinner and all thanks to this stupid job and—

The grand, generous donation of Kodzu00—

You freeze. Your pure, unrestrained elation plummets. Reality clocks you sideways in the face and you slap yourself for being so dumb—how could I even forget? Your eyes dart back to the screen and you pull up the donation history, staring in dark silence at the simple, blaring donation of cherries, already transferred to your account and not even pending and—

Your joy is quickly replaced with something much more dire. You gape at the amount. The award title beside it appears. You stare.

And stare.

A thirty minute meet and greet.

You’d be meeting in person with this person for at least half and hour and—

What the hell?

You power off your screens, flying to your room and kicking the streaming room door shut behind you. You lunge for your bed, scrambling for your laptop, covered in Water Emblem stickers. You pop it open, quickly pulling up your admin account for the streaming sight and accessing your private passwords. You pull up the user history for all your past streams, typing in the username Kodzu00—

Nothing?

You stare at the blank history. The only entry is tonight’s stream. The very first time this user has ever showed up.

Alarm bells start ringing in your head. You pull up your emergency tab, a self-made list of all your red-flag boxes to check in cases like this for your safety. You click on Kodzu00’s account, searching through their profile.

MADE THIS MORNING? You gape in disbelief, staring at the entirely blank profile. It’s even void of an icon for a profile pic. The account was literally made today, just for this stream, and this god damn stranger just gifted you basically 300,000 yen—

This is insane! All your alarm bells nearly fall off their stands. You search for any kind of information, scrambling and double-checking your banned users lists for any potential matches. Was it some creep trying to meet you from before? A stalker? Were they under a different name and made the separate account just to do this to you so they wouldn’t get caught? What’s their deal?

(What’s your selling point for this whole thing?)

You pause, fingers halting over your keyboard.

You’ve had rich donations before. Users with too much time and money on their hands—users you’re gladly willing to take from in the pursuit of a better life for yourself. Your crowd ranges anyway; from nervous, shy little dorks to kind, quiet people looking for company to disgusting, wretched lechers and stupid alphas who like nothing more than little, docile omegas to rub their garbage scent over—

You stare at Kodzu00’s user profile, feeling something bitter and dark and ugly bubble up in the pits of your stomach.

Any person, male or female, who’d be willing to drop that much money to meet with a streamer like you, notorious for what you do, for what you market—can’t be a good person by any means.

They only want one thing.

You grind your teeth, knowing you’ve got no choice but to reap what you sowed. This was the path to quick cash you chose, so you can’t back down now. You’ll just have to do everything in your power to make sure you remain successful.

You close your laptop screen, ripping your stupid mask off your face and tossing it to the side.

You weren’t backing down.

--- (change the channel) ----

You started streaming in high school.

The middle of your last year, to be exact.

It started off simple enough, to be honest. Nothing eventful, nothing worth writing biographies or harrowing documentaries off of. It was another story amidst the thousands in Tokyo’s Metropolitan streets.

By all legal health records and means, you are an omega.

(What does that mean?)

Within Tokyo’s urban and suburban streets, it means a collection of different ideals and social norms. It means nothing to plenty, it means everything to others—to your youthful eyes growing up, it’d just meant you were a little different from some of your other peers, but not isolated, no, never isolated—there were other omegas, after all, despite the smaller population.

You get along with people fine. You make friends fine, have a few crushes, get average enough grades and have a particular fondness for social media—you just live your life on top of having to deal with certain physiological functions others around you may not experience the same.

You think by all means until your last year of high school, that it really does mean nothing. Society is so modern now, people don’t even blink, right? There’s none of those second gender stereotypes or outrageous cult worships—you’re just another person trying to live their life to the fullest.

“A doctor? Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

You smiled at your teacher in the faculty office. See? Normal—

You stopped.

“See, that’s a great dream,” the teacher said, pointing to your paper. He tapped it, scratching his rough stubble. “But it’s not very realistic with your current standing, you know?”

“You mean my grades? I can work extra hard. They’ve been more than above passing, and what really matters is the entrance exams and testing—”

“Not just that,” he said. He pulled up your student file. He gave you a second look, up and down, and he seemed to find pity in your hopefully confused expression. “Listen, (L/n), here’s the thing—a doctor… is a pretty important position, you know? Very important.”

You nodded like you didn’t already know that. Like you hadn’t been spending the last years of your educational life aspiring toward that goal, that dream.

“They need to be physically… available,” your teacher said. “They have to work outrageous shift hours, they have to work hard on top of that, and then they have to take special medication to regulate their pheromones if they need to, and then the schooling on top of all that is hard work.”

You waited for your teacher to explain why any of those things was supposed to get in the way of your one and only dream of saving lives.

“I’ll make this easy for you to understand, kid,” you teacher said. He taps his nametag, pointing to his little alpha symbol.

“Omegas just don’t become doctors.”

Your dainty, prettily crafted world of normalcy and mundane content shattered around you in one violent, screeching halt.

You smiled at your teacher, nails digging painfully into your thighs.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s just not a typical job preference,” your teacher said. “Look, you’re not the only one, I promise. There are a few omega doctors, sure, we need them anyway to make things easier or make sense of stuff alpha based doctors or betas might not understand, but the demand isn’t high and the placement is extremely competitive. Trust me, kid. I know.”

You kind of wanted to spit at your teacher that no, this pot-bellied, alpha gym teacher couldn’t possibly know more than you do about trying to break into the medical industry as an omega. But the thing is—what are the statistics? You hardly see any. Every website you’d researched thus far has always been welcoming, nowhere on their platforms or pamphlets saying anything about omegas being doctors or not and—

You froze.

“Everyone is welcome!” the videos all said. “Everyone is encouraged to try!”

“This is the real truth,” your teacher said. “They’ll all tell you you can do it because they’re not allowed to discriminate or turn anyone away. They’ll let you do whatever you want, but when it really comes down to the acceptances or not? You’ll just get turned away and you’ll have wasted all that time for nothing.

“Omegas aren’t considered suitable candidates for doctors,” your teacher said. “That market tends to go to betas, believe it or not. A nice little mediator.”

Your teacher tossed your career planning forms onto a stack of dozens. You stared at it, smiling continuously with your fingers digging harder into your thighs. He sighed, waving a hand.

“You should shoot for a hospital receptionist,” your teacher said. “It’s the next best thing, right? Or you could teach biology at a school instead. You might even be able to get by as a school nurse—”

“I’m going to apply to medical school.”

Your teacher stopped, looking at you.

You smiled back at him.

(Being an omega was supposed to stop you?)

What a load of shit.

“I don’t really care about anything else,” you said. “I’ve wanted to become a doctor my whole life. If people say I can’t do it because of something they can’t even see, then I’m still going to do it. They can’t stop me.”

Your teacher stared at you for a few minutes. He leaned back in his chair, considering his next words before he finally said—

“You got the money?”

You stopped.

Your family is pitifully lower middle class. Your parents make enough to pay the bills, afford a vacation every now and then, and just get by fair enough without being too stressed—but small issues, like your own medical costs for heat suppressants or a flat tire can easily set your family back several paychecks.

No, you don’t have money for medical school. You’d already known that looking at all the pamphlets. But there were scholarships and stipends and loans—

“If you want to waste your time with this pipe dream, it’s not my job to stop you,” he said, pointing to your career form. “It’s not really ethical either, so don’t come back and file any lawsuits against me. But your medical schools don’t offer many scholarships, and the ones they do aren’t going to go to that one, average ranking omega they’d rather not even have to worry about.”

Your teacher shrugged.

“Go ahead and be a doctor, kid, but you’re going to need money to do it.”

(This is the reality. People are not equal. Being an omega means—)

Means what?

-- ---- (change the channel) ----

You remember laying in your bed that night, scrolling mindlessly through random social media outlets. You’d spent the last several hours searching extensively for any and all scholarships you might even remotely be able to apply for, but none of them seemed willing to help an omega into their waiting hospital wings—your best bet was going to be taking out a loan. Several. That’s on top of cram school costs, textbooks, entrance fees and whether or not I can pass the exam—

No, you would. You had too. You weren’t about to let some stupid, invisible consensus a group of people somewhere or another had decided on stop you.

“Thank you again for the generous donations! You guys are too good to me!”

You’d paused, staring at your bright screen. One of the streamers you followed from time to time—he was an omega, cute and docile and in all honesty, probably the picture perfect cookie cutter definition of one. He always posted great tips on fashion or about cute cafes he enjoyed, and always seemed to be proud of the fact that he was an omega despite how cringingly he played into the stereotypes—

You glanced at his caption, freezing in disbelief.

Designer bags littered his floor. He showed off his pretty watch, batting his lashes at the camera, talking about how the donations from last night’s stream helped him live a good, cushiony life, making him feel like he was being taken care of even without an alpha by his side.

You’d stalked his account almost religiously for the next few weeks, watching his streams, watching the way he… flaunted his nature as an omega. Your parents had always told you you were fine the way you were, but being an omega had never been something to be proud of—you’d just preferred to act like a beta more than anything else. What was the point? To some extent, your teacher was right, there were no benefits to being an omega except—

“Thank you again for all your donations!”

You pulled up your laptop, searching extensively for every little obscure article you could find on the nature of streaming services. You’d never taken social media outlets that seriously, always looked at influencers and vloggers with a grain of salt—you were aspiring to be a full-time heart surgeon after all, but if there was actually something...reasonable behind the way all these people would act, proudly showing off the fact that they were omegas in exchange for something monetary…

(Did people enjoy this?)

Yeah you can make money from it, lol.

You stared at the internet thread, blinking in disbelief.

One user amongst thousands in the thread had responded to your question.

Ppl always keep saying that omegas are this and that. Society likes to paint a pretty picture of what we call equality. Ads and those videos u watch in school and stuff, they all tell u you can be whatever u want to be if u try, but that’s not rlly the truth. The only thing they were honest about was that you’d have to work hard for what you want in life.

You scrolled down.

You have to do the research on ur own and find respectable sites. I can give u recommendations, but u have to kind of get yourself prepared for what you’re signing up for too. Everyone likes to go on television and talk about how all three genders are the same, but we’re not. It’s not even just whether ur female or male anymore, everyone always finds something to pick at, don’t they?

U might get hate for it but whatever, those people who sit on a nicer chair than you and don’t pay your bills don’t get to criticize you for what you want to do and how u do it.

They always tell us we can’t do things because we’re omegas. That we have to be a certain way because we’re omegas and we’re only good for one thing.

So just give them what they want.

And suck them dry.

You remember clearly, that night, pulling up the user’s account and shooting them the message that would change your life.

What sites do you recommend for beginners?

Youcanruletheworld is typing…

----- (change the channel) -----

You triple check all your items, rearranging them on your bed in front of you.

Your outfit is cute, matching your streamer personality but remaining modest enough to keep you protected from unwanted attention. You’ll be wearing a face mask on top of it, just for the extra mile too. You’d already reached out to this Kodzu00 and sent them the notification for where to meet and when, and what you’d look like so they’d be able to find you. Wisely, as always, you picked a neutral location—an extremely popular cafe two hours away from your house just to be safe.

Safety alarm—check. Pepper spray, check. Pheromone repellent, check. Emergency contact button, check. Location synced devices and emergency heat suppressant pills on top of—

You stare at the last item. It comes special with the standard emergency omega safety kit—you almost spit at the name—it’s a quick, easy attachable lock-on collar to protect your bonding glands in the case of an unruly and disgusting attack.

You want to call it ridiculous.

(Behind your eyes you see the comments scrolling over the glowing screen. You see the leering words and the lecherous promises and the disgusting sentences that rattle your brain and make you stand a minute longer in the shower, fingernails digging into your skin—)

You don’t say anything, zipping the bag closed and taking all your items with you.

---- (change the channel) -----

Thirty minutes, it’s just thirty minutes, you can do this. You aggressively slurp on your straw, furiously dogging the cafe patrons with your eyes, keeping them narrowed and peeled for anyone who ought to fit the bill over what you were expecting to meet today. Thirty minutes.

The black iced coffee with an added two shots isn’t doing anything to calm your nerves, but it’s doing everything you need to keep yourself pumped and ready to go at a moment’s notice. The cafe is busy, just as always, with people swarming left and right, in and out—this creep won’t be able to do any of their normal creep tendencies in a place like this.

You bite your straw, tapping your feet under the table.

Alright, Kodzu00, do your worst. I’m leaving here after the thirty and I’m taking the cash with me—

“Excuse me,” you stop, mouth hovering and open over your near chewed through straw, “are you… uh… Omegachion?”

Hearing your streamer username in real life makes you both want to gag and sigh in happiness. The username was arguably the only way for you to feel remotely sane logging into the streaming service every time for your scheduled program because Water Emblem got you through anything, including all the cram sessions to get into medical school.

Your eyes swing rapidly to your right, moving your head so fast you take your straw with you. 

Ice coffee drips onto the table.

The young man standing in front of you is… is, truthfully, not what you expected. Okay, sure, weirdos on the internet come in all shapes and sizes, but to your own bias, you’ve crafted a bit of a face for the specific types of users who flood your streams. He narrowly passes even an inch of those ideas, with the slightly messy hair, the baggy clothes that look like all he does is stay in front of his computer all day and the dark lines under his eyes, but other than that—

He’s a lean young man, from what you can barely tell, underneath the baggy black sweatshirts and the sleek black joggers, lined in white with a logo you don’t recognize. There’s a dark cap on top of his head as well, and he’s sporting a simple black face mask, just like you—the most color the damn guy has is the bleached blonde tips still growing out past his roots, spilling a bit past his shoulders while the rest is gathered back into a bun.

In an instant you quickly size him up—the guy’s probably only a few inches taller than you and he can’t be that much older or younger, somewhere probably around your age.

You pluck out your straw. He squints faintly at you, holding his phone, glancing back at his screen and then back to you and shifting, albeit uncertainly. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now.

“You’re,” you start, “uh, you’re Kodzu00?”

“Yes,” he says. “That’s… me.”

You stare.

He stares right back.

(His golden eyes are almost like slits, you realize, a bit stunned, they drip gold and heather.)

He has pretty eyes.

“It’s,” he says, awkward, not sounding friendly at all, “...nice to meet you…”

And then reality comes back, this time with a spinning roundhouse right to your face.

This is the guy who just dropped money to come and meet you here today.

This guy.

You stare at him in disbelief.

Kodzu00 stands there in front of you, looking as though he wished he could melt right through the floor and disappear. He slowly starts to make his way into the chair opposite of you, pulling it out and taking a seat, setting his phone down beside him like it’s a lifeline and—

Your eyes bulge at the sight of his watch. You know how much that watch costs.

Your alarm bells start firing off again. For a brief moment, unease colors your scent, lightly flooding the area until you instantly reel it back in. Kodzu00 glances up at you for a second but you keep your face calm and friendly, quickly slipping back into your streamer personality, your best mask and first line of defense against whatever the hell this weirdo wants with you and time is ticking—

Before you can even utter a single word, Kodzu00 pulls down his mask.

(He’s… well, he’s not bad looking either, in a… weird kind of way.)

“Look, I need to clear the air first and get this on the table,” he says it a bit quickly, despite the low, almost uncaring inclination to his tone. You blink at him. The tips of his ears are staining pink beneath the fading streaks of blonde and he continues, “I’m not here for your streams.”

You blink.

You stare at him, dumbfounded and hopelessly confused.

“I’ve never even seen them before until last night,” he says just as quickly, looking embarrassed to even utter those words. “Let’s get that straight, okay? So I’m not… here for… that.”

That.

“That?” you say like a robot.

He looks more and more uncomfortable, but he presses on, whispering quickly over the table, “Yeah. I’m not here for… that. So… you can… uh… just be normal, I guess.”

You stare at Kodzu00, the man who’s just payed off nearly the last of your student loans in debt, who’s only here in front of you today because he got in touch with you through one of those very streams which very much markets that, which is meant to appeal to all the what-nots who just want to see an omega bat her eyelashes and act like an omega, to feel comforted or have their egos stroked and—

“I don’t watch any streams like that,” he adds for good measure. “I don’t. One of my viewers reached out to me because… well… because they watched your streams and noticed something and mentioned it to me, so I wanted to check it out myself.”

Oh my god. You sit there in the middle of the bustling cafe. Am I about to die? This is it, isn’t it. Kodzu00 is actually some kind of crazy internet stalker or person and you’re about to get stabbed right across the cafe table and this will be the end, you’ll never even get to save anyone’s life or help anyone and their bad hearts or do anything beyond your stupid streams and that’s all you’ll be remembered for.

“Kodzu00 is just a name I made for that night,” he says quickly. “Online I run a gaming channel under the user Kodzuken—you can just call me Kenma though. Kenma Kozume.”

“Uh,” you say. “Kucina. You can call me Kucina.” You are not giving your real name out to this stranger who can potentially threaten your entire standing in your medical career and out you for the unethical nature of how you’ve been procuring money to pay your school fees—

Kenma briefly pauses, eyes flickering up to you. He looks a bit pleased with your choice of alias but quickly glances back to his phone. You feel, strangely, a little… a little happy too.

Wait, wait, wait. No, this guy is a weirdo and don’t forget that he’s a complete stranger online claiming to be a game streamer and—

“The only reason I’m here today is for this,” he says, pulling out his phone. You instantly grow wary, inching back a bit from the table. There’s a bit of excitement finally creeping into his otherwise mundane voice, and it’s giving you the spooks. Kenma taps, quickly navigating his screen before he pulls up one blurred, pixelated image and turns his screen to show it to you.

“Why is this a screenshot of my room?” you say roughly, narrowing your eyes at him. You point to the screen shot of your streaming room and your face caught mid-speech, making you look dumb. “What are you trying to—”

“It’s not that,” he says, sounding a bit stressed out by this whole ordeal. He looks visibly uncomfortable with the image of you, only in your bright pink bra and you raise an eyebrow at him, suspicious as he zooms in and quickly moves the screen to—

“This,” he says, fervent, almost reverent actually, “is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Carefully, still suspicious, you lean over the table and look closer at his phone screen. You follow his finger, quickly recognizing your bookshelf, your posters, and then right beside Kenma’s fingertip is—

You blink.

You know exactly what he’s pointing to.

You also know exactly what it looks like in perfect detail despite the blurry picture. It’s a large box, big enough to hold against your chest, sleek white and blue, with silver lettering line in a kind of glowing, aqua teal—the cover art for the product had been top of the line, complete with an engraved metal clasp that opened up to reveal an entire, glossy artbook, coupled with a cd of the game’s soundtrack and also—

“Water Emblem’s Special Anniversary Edition?”

“Yes!” he almost shouts. You jump. Kenma quickly gestures to his screen, to your room and your game and points at it with fervor. His eyes are actually shiny, you stare at him, a little in awe. “Do you know what this is?”

“Of course I do!” you say, offended. “I own the game. It’s Water Emblem: Light Dragon! Personally my favorite game in the entire franchise and the game that really got the series into the world market—it’s part of what started its entire cult following. This is the special edition that came out years ago, wow, I can’t believe it’s been so long! I remember waiting in line for it and—”

“That’s exactly it!” Kenma says, throwing his hands up into hair, grabbing it beneath his cap. You blink at him, getting a little excited. “This game—this particular edition re-launched for one night of sales only in the creator’s hometown and here in Tokyo! It came with a companion edition and most people were only able to get one or the other because it was sold on opposite ends of Japan!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I know! I stayed with relatives in the summer and timed it out so I could grab it! They only sold so little copies… that was the best night of my life, I couldn’t believe it, even though the game didn’t seem to do that well at first until later…”

“Because no one respected the greatness of the game back then,” Kenma says bitterly. You nod. “Now everyone knows but the rest of the editions have all either been trashed or are kept by collectors somewhere else, I’ve been searching for years for a copy that was at least still playable, even without the extra goods—”

“But the goods are the best part!” you shout in disbelief. Kenma looks at you like your crazy. “The art book, the soundtrack, the interview with the creator—they all play their part in bringing the game to life!”

“This is what I wanted to discuss with you,” Kenma says seriously, lacing his fingers nervously together and staring you down across the table. You suddenly feel uneasy, unnerved by the piercing, golden gaze.

“You own what might very well be one of the last, in-tact, best kept qualities of this edition in Japan,” Kenma says. “When this edition and its counterpart launched, the second issue, the black one—it came with a playable DLC code that can only be activated when you have its partner code and it unlocks an entirely new, almost never played secret storyline that’s supposed to reveal another part of the story—”

“I heard about that,” you say in disbelief. “But I thought it was just an online rumour because no one ever proved it or could figure out the code…”

“Because no one could figure it out,” Kenma says, getting the loudest you’ve heard him since. You stare at him with wide, round eyes. “But recently because of the work I’ve been doing, I was able to meet with the creator—”

“YOU MET WITH THE CREATOR OF—”

Kenma furiously motions for you to shush. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching him with round, adoring eyes, sparkling in disbelief. This guy right here in front of you got to meet your hero—the envy and awe collide altogether, rumbling up and—

(Your heart starts to do something a little funny in your chest.)

Who even is this guy?

“He gave me a hint and I was able to find the code in the other edition,” Kenma says, quickly pushing his phone to you to show a picture and you blink, eyes shiny. “Which I currently own because I was able to secure one when it came out in Tokyo. But your edition is the last part I need to unlock the unplayable path.”

This guy… you lean back in your chair, unable to stop the excited tap of your feet. This guy—he loves Water Emblem. He’s crazy for it! I don’t know anyone except people online who like it this much and he’s…

“That’s why,” Kenma coughs suddenly, becoming smaller in his seat. You stare at him with a raised brow. “I needed… to get in touch… with you.”

You blink, remembering the whole reason the two of you were even meeting in the first place.

Your cheeks grow hot, bright red in a flash of rare embarrassment. Kenma’s ears are just as red, but he pretends it’s not even happening, continuing on.

“Why didn’t you just… message me,” you squeak out, feeling more and more mortified that this man has literally paid you thousands just to be here and… it’s not even… a scam. It’s about your favorite thing ever. Water Emblem! “Instead of… my streams…”

“That was the only way I knew how to contact you,” Kenma says, looking a bit defensive. “I told you, I’ve never seen your streams before. One of my viewers told me and you keep everything private, so this felt like my only chance.”

You open your mouth, feeling more and more uncomfortable but Kenma sweeps in, “Keep the money. It… works out better this way anyway.”

You stare at him in confusion.

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

“This might be my only chance ever to play the game,” Kenma continues, pulling up another tab and clicking away at his phone. He tucks a strand of blonde behind his ear and the action is almost endearing to you until the reality of his words slowly starts to creep into the forefront. “I’ve never found another edition like yours, and it seems like it’s in perfect condition too. I’d be willing to buy it at complete full, current market price—”

“Market price?” you say in disbelief. “How much is my game going for?”

Kenma looks at you in blatant disbelief. You raise a critical brow at him.

Wordlessly he turns his phone back over to you and you glance down—

You almost fall out of your chair. Kenma doesn’t look impressed, hunkering back down and taking his phone as you spin, head swirling at the numbers and figures, math flying around in your head at the sudden realization that all that money could literally be yours, that the game you love so much is worth that much, that all that money, all that money you’ve been trying so desperately to scrape for could just—just fall into your lap—

You could pay off all your loans with that kind of money. You could… you could stop streaming with that kind of money, finally wash your hands of it and get back on track and hardly have to worry as you work toward the job of your dreams and… 

“I want to buy your game.”

Your heart quiets. The fancy dreams stop. You sit there in the chair, head buzzing with the reality of what he’s asking of you.

He wants to buy your game.

Your game.

And you think then, about a moment far away from this one. About a time when the books and papers crowding around you made you feel like drowning, about lonely summers and arguments bouncing off the rooms around you, and a time where there was nothing else but that loading screen and that game to take you away from all of it…

(The game that you’ve kept all these years, loved all these years, because it…)

“I’d be willing to pay whatever works best for you,” Kenma continues, the excitement is low in his quiet voice and his eyes sparkle as he shows you his phone. “I can even pay upfront in cash, have a fund drawn up or—”

“I’m really sorry.”

It’s the first time in a long time you’ve ever felt the need to apologize to anyone. Not when the whole world has been treating you like the sorry sack for so long.

Kenma glances up. His expression is calm, unreadable, but you get the feeling he can see right through you so you stare at the tabletop instead.

“I don’t know…” you start. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sell that game to you.”

(He doesn’t seem like a bad guy.)

Anyone that talks about Water Emblem with as much love in his voice as he does can’t be, not at all by your books. His methods of getting to you here today might’ve been outrageous and roundabout, but you’re not really doing things the normal way either, so who are you to judge?

But that game…

You risk a glance up. You stop, staring in surprise when Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit outraged or tense or anything. He looks just a bit disappointed, but the only thing you really see is understanding and something like a bit of grudging envy, a warmth in his gaze you don’t think is particularly meant for you but still comes through regardless.

“I was,” Kenma admits, a bit quiet. “Worried that would be the case.”

“Do you want,” you start quickly. Kenma looks at you. “Do you want to, uh, see it, at least? Take a look… see if it’s even in the condition you want?”

(You just… you can’t sell it, but you don’t want this conversation to end. It’s been so long since you’ve talked with anyone about this game, it’s felt so long since you talked to anyone in general and…)

Maybe, just maybe.

(You feel a little desperate.)

“Uh,” Kenma says, awkward. “Is that… fine?”

“Well, sure!” you say, hoping you don’t sound too eager. “Of course it isn’t a problem! I mean, I know we just met, but you seem pretty legit and I can just check you out later—plus, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, even against an—”

You stop, sniffing the air. Kenma doesn’t look bothered, but he rubs the back of his neck.

And you realize, suddenly, you haven’t smelled a single damn thing because Kenma Kozume is—

A beta.

(Oh.)

---- (change the channel) ----

The entire way back to your apartment, Kodzu00, or as you now know him, Kenma Kozume, complains.

He does it quietly, but he still complains.

“We could just take a taxi,” Kenma says, quiet and unhappy when you start making your way toward the train station. “I can pay for it…”

“It’s easy to remember an address but tough to remember a bunch of stations and stops,” you say, ignoring his offer. Kenma follows, unhappy but he still follows. It’s kind of cute.

He walks with a bit of a hunch, you notice. Like he’s doing everything he can to remain out of everyone’s vision, but he watches, careful and observant because he avoids people before they have the chance to bump into him, glancing this way and that and picking things out with particular ease.

Kenma doesn’t look very confident, but he’s comfortable. You stand there beside him on the train, calmly holding onto the railing while he taps away at his phone beside you, sighing every now and then. He’s different, you realize, very different, from what you’ve become accustomed to when it comes to the kinds of people you let surround you for the sake of money.

You almost want to say it’s because he’s a beta, but you feel that’s a disservice in all its entirety. Maybe Kenma will turn out to be a snob of some kind. The guy’s strangely loaded.

You sneak searches on your phone, paling at the articles about him that come up, about stocks and investments and companies and you realize in seconds, this guy is completely and utterly the real deal.

But despite everything, Kenma still does as you ask. He lets you lead as you navigate the string of trains to get back home, doesn’t ask any questions, only comments on the occasional thing, and the entire affair is two hours, but he doesn’t even blink.

Either he really, really wants this game, you think, or he’s just weird.

Quiet, weird, but fairly quaint, and you’re a little alarmed by how much you… like that.

(You’re a weird guy.)

A rude, burly man makes a pass at you on the last train home, breathing down your neck and letting his greasy fingers try to slide against yours on the same railing handle. Kenma makes a face, eyes narrowed into slits in disgust and he quickly looks at you, blinking at your unbothered, nonchalant expression.

His scent wafts over you, thick and uninviting. Alpha. You rub your nose, inhaling your own familiar scent. Kenma looks more and more uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, starting to lean your way and scanning for open seats when you calmly turn to the man directly behind you, meeting him dead in the eye.

“Get,” you say calmly, digging your fingernails into his skin, threatening to draw blood—the man stiffens, he pales, surprised, startled by your confrontation— “The fuck away from me before I scream.”

He scurries back, shouldering past people in seconds. A few people shoot him disgusted looks, glancing your way in pity—but you ignore all of them too. They didn’t care seconds ago when they knew what he was doing, if you hadn’t done anything, they wouldn’t have either.

That’s just how it goes.

“Sorry,” you say, even though you probably shouldn’t. You look at Kenma, lips curling a bit. “I was expecting to meet a guy like that today instead of you. I think all that pent up anger and anxiety needed to go somewhere.”

Kenma opens his mouth, closes it, stays quiet for what feels like minutes and then he starts up again.

“You don’t really act the same way you do on your streams, do you?”

“Of course not,” you say. “If I acted like that in real life—no offense to anyone who does though—I’d probably lose my shit.”

Kenma sniffs. He doesn’t say anything after that, and you quaintly let your shoulder brush against his ever other jostle of the train.

(It’s been awhile since you’ve been around anyone. It feels nice.)

---- (change the channel) -----

Kenma balks for a bit at the front door of your apartment, but you quickly usher him inside, kicking your shoes off into the entryway and flying inside. He toes off his own shoes, eyes scanning briefly around the entryway, around your home—it’s neat, he realizes, even if he wasn’t sure what to expect. You keep it clean enough, but there’s bits and pieces where your life slips through, making it feel lived in. You keep plants in the corner, healthy and well but you’ve got a few dishes still sitting in the sink.

He guesses he wasn’t really sure what he was expecting to begin with. 

Kenma pauses for a second, rubbing his nose. He looks uncomfortable, eyes flickering around your apartment and back to you, but you’re already steps ahead of him, too excited to pass a chance like this up.

“It’s in my streaming room,” you say, “come on.”

Kenma follows warily behind you.

You almost kick the door to your room open in your haste, unable to stop the ecstatic beating of your heart as you scramble toward the back. Kenma pauses a minute, sniffing the air again. He glances behind him, back toward where your bedroom is left ajar and then to your streaming room. He looks a bit thoughtful for a moment, but quietly keeps it to himself, slipping inside and lightly closing the door politely after him.

(He’s not one to snoop, but he’s here, it’s not like he can’t look.)

Kenma tries very, very carefully not to consider the fact that he had seen you on that screen only a few nights before, and tries even harder not to remember what you’d been doing and how you’d look. He hyper focuses instead on the stand-out merch that becomes very, very clear to him.

He’s almost amazed your users haven’t said anything more about this—maybe it’s because of your camera angle.

Poster after poster of Water Emblem decorates the entire side of your wall. Kenma finds himself instantly drifting up to it, spotting your shelf in record time. He scans the collection of game titles, eyes growing brighter and brighter as he ghosts a finger over the well-kept discs and the old games…

“You play a lot,” Kenma says, quiet, glancing your way.

“I used to be a bit of a shut-in because I had to study,” you say, squatting down beside your other shelf and moving a few books aside. He finds himself watching the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and smile. “They were great breaks for me and helped keep me company. I’m not as social as people think, so it’s nice.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at you, trying to reconcile the image he’d had of you from your stream with what he’d been witnessing all day today—how different it all was.

(If he’s honest, he’d been expecting to deal with someone different.)

“Do you do PC games too?” he asks. What are you doing?

“I’m not as familiar with them compared to console games,” you admit. “After exams I might try though. Got any to recommend?”

Kenma does. Plenty. He could go on but he doesn’t even know where to start, turning from your games to try to look at you again and think about how strange this entire meeting is, how different from what he’d been expecting. It reminds him of his meeting with Hinata, sudden and vibrant and impossible to categorize, left—

Pleasantly surprised.

“What happened to your chair?”

“What, the pink one?” you glance over your shoulder, noticing where Kenma’s looking toward your streaming station. “I shove it into the closet when I’m not using it. Sometimes the color hurts my eyes.”

Kenma looks at you like you’re crazy.

“...You keep two chairs?”

“Well, the chair’s mostly for looks anyway,” you say. “Some people like that kind of simple stuff. It’s a nice contrast, you know? Sweet and spicy, I guess? My boss said something like that. My ratings are good so I don’t complain.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at your station, almost engulfed with stacks and stacks of what he can easily recognize as textbooks. Biology, medical tech, chemistry—all of it nearly crushing the fuzzy bunny mask you’d been wearing on the stream.

Kenma takes it all into his head and he looks again at your small back.

“...Do you even like your job?”

“It’s not my job,” you say. “My job is studying and working at the athletics complex to try to help figure out ways to help people stay in shape, take care of themselves and be better. This is just… part-time.”

You pause, staring at your shelves. It feels weird to be saying this outloud, but it’s nice too. It’s refreshing. You think you can take advantage of it anyway, what if you never even meet this guy again? You hardly know him, he probably doesn’t care.

“And I guess,” you say, a bit quieter. “Sometimes it’s kind of rewarding… sometimes people are nice, you know?”

Kenma says nothing, watching your back. You rub your neck and then finally beam, pulling free the reason for all of this.

You cradle the box in your hands. It’s weighty. You run your fingers over it and stand up, turning proudly to Kenma, beaming from ear to ear and—

You almost jump back in surprise, near squeaking. Your ears almost flash red in embarrassment at how close Kenma is all of a sudden, sneaking up right behind you with shiny, adoring eyes as he stares at the box in your hands, looking at it in awe and disbelief.

“Can I see it?” he asks reverently.

Your heart swells in happiness and you eagerly nod, handing it over to him.

Kenma receives the gift with care. He runs his fingers over it, carefully, as though afraid to even leave a single print behind before he pops the metal engraved latch and opens it up.

You and Kenma sigh together in unison, swooning at the sight.

“It’s amazing,” Kenma says.

“I know.”

“I can’t believe I’m seeing it in person.”

“I know!”

“You took great care of it.”

“I—” you flush at the praise, wilting a bit. “I-uh, thanks…”

“Can I see you play it?” Kenma says suddenly, looking almost desperate. You freeze. He looks up at you, expression completely different from his near lifeless one. His face is vibrant and full of excitement, thrumming just under the surface of his nonchalance. “The loading screen even? I—I have to see what it looks like logged in and—”

“I...actually can’t,” you say quietly, embarrassed. Kenma looks confused.

“I… I sold the console for it,” you say, feeling more and more guilty to finally have to admit one of your biggest regrets. Kenma pauses, expression quieting as he looks at you. You stare at the floor, trying not to look at the computer and web camera sitting in the corner. “I needed to buy some stuff… so I had to sell it in. I still kept a lot of the games, thinking I’d buy another one when I got the chance…”

You ruffle the back of your head, trying to quell the stifling scent of embarrassment that tries to escape you. You rub your wrists. Kenma’s eyes are briefly drawn to the action before he looks at you, still holding your game. You bow your head a little. “Um, if you want though, you can take it to your place and see—it absolutely will still work. I can just, take something to make sure you don’t run off or I can just—”

“Do you want to come over and use mine?”

You pause, looking at Kenma, dumbfounded.

Kenma stares right back at you. You can’t read a single inch of his face.

“We can use my place,” Kenma says, calm, unbothered. Your eyes grow round. “I really… really want to see the game in action… it’ll probably be more fun to see you play it anyway first.”

“Is that,” you start, uncharacteristically shy. “...okay?”

Kenma wordlessly nods.

(Your heart does something a little funny. You just write it off as an exaggeration. You’re such a sad sack.)

“Um!” Kenma looks up. You flush, hating how embarrassed you feel, hating how much of your bravado is missing, but you almost stutter out, “I-It’s (L/n) by the way… (L/n) (Y/n)...”

“... okay,” Kenma says. “It’s nice to meet you, (L/n).”

--- (change the chanel) ---

“You know, Kenma,” Kuroo said once, leaning back on the train ride home as Kenma tapped away at the buttons on his console. “For all you say and stuff, you’re pretty good at putting all the pieces together, aren’t you?”

--- (change the chanel) ---

One month.

Non-stop, several days a week, for hours on end—that’s how long the two of you play the game together.

You nearly miss streams, spend hours at Kenma’s house, laughing when you come to find him half-asleep in his sheets, barely rolling out to come greet you and instead just buzzing you in. You think it’s insane—how quickly this… this thing builds. You think you ought to be dreaming, but you don’t really want it to end.

(You’ve gone too long without anyone to laugh like this with.)

 You pull late-nighters that are terrible for your complexion, eat take-out like you’re cramming for exams all over again, laughing while Kenma quietly watches and scrolling through Water Emblem merchandise and fan bases and—

You spend time with him. With Kenma. You spend hours and days and what feels like endless forever and fun. It’s so sickeningly amazing you almost don’t believe it’s real. Sometimes you two argue, getting into heated spats over calls on how to move your characters, critiquing each other’s moves and then laughing when the other fails, sometimes it’s outright cheers from you while Kenma nods in satisfaction when you clear another mission and proceed forward and—

You haven’t even been alive that long, but compared to everything else, it almost feels like the best moment of your life.

“I did an entire episode on why moving this character is better than the rest,” Kenma mutters one day beside you. “I’m telling you, we need to deploy them. They’re wasted as an adjutant.”

You pause beside Kenma, blinking at his massive screen. You stare at your hands, and then you look at Kenma, blinking again in realization.

And in all this sudden time you’ve spent with him, you realize you’ve never seen one of his streams.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Uh, hey everyone, thanks for stopping by again.”

You snort. Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit at ease, his small face-view camera appearing in the corner of your screen as the old stream starts. It’s only of his earliest ones, the one where he replayed Water Emblem for his channel.

“I like this game a lot… it’s the one I always wanted to do a stream for… so I hope you enjoy it too.”

Is that it, dude? You laugh, shaking your head and kicking your legs out as Kenma gets the loading screen started and adjusts his chair. His camera shakes a bit and everything about the video attests to its age and its novelty. It makes you smile. He must’ve come a long way from these videos to the freaking multi-millionaire he was now.

(He worked hard.)

At first the show starts off rather quiet, maybe a bit awkward. Kenma hardly talks, quietly playing through the beginning sequences of the game and only commenting once or twice on the music or graphics. It’s kind of nice, peaceful, just watching someone go through the familiar motions until the real first part of the game starts and then—

“I never get tired of this part.”

You pause at his voice, glancing to the corner of the screen. Kenma’s eyes glow. He smiles, low, small and quiet, and he leans so far forward, almost out of his seat as he starts to play, quietly talking, describing the things he’s doing, the parts of the game he’s in love with and—

You roll over onto your side, watching the stream. Everytime Kenma mutters something under his breath you laugh, when he flubs you grimace, when he succeeds—you cheer, kicking your heels into the air. It’s really like playing the game all over again—even if the comments say he hardly shows any emotion, you can see it.

Kenma Kozume loves this game.

He loves what he does.

The thought makes you pause, staring quietly at the screen.

The dark corner of your room looks a little bigger. The quietness is a little louder. You lay there in your bed, watching Kenma thank everyone for watching with a sigh, giving the game a second glance, like he’s thinking of playing more even though he said he’d stop and—

Your alarm nearly startles you out of bed. You quickly glance over, shooting up in realization.

“My stream,” you murmur, dropping your phone and hurrying to your video room. “Gotta do… my stream…”

Your eyes glance back to your phone. You stare at the dark screen.

“Do you even like what you do?”

You shake your head, closing the door behind you.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Thanks again everyone for coming! Your favorite omega is going to be lonely without you~”

The screen clicks, turning off.

You sit there in your plush, bright pink chair. Your open jacket hangs on either side of you, revealing your bikini for the beach theme you were going with today. The video room is near silent, save for the soft, quiet hum of your computer running while your monitor blinks, turning to a save screen.

Your game sits in your lap, carefully cradled by your hands. Off to the side is a thorough stack of medical textbooks you still owe money on. You were planning on studying for your test tomorrow after the stream tonight.

You run your fingers over the amazing edges of the collector’s box. You thumb every part of it, retracing the familiar memories, even the small little dent in the corner when you dropped it the first night you got it and almost cried.

You hold it there in your hands. It feels so, so warm, even though you think that shouldn’t really be possible.

There, in the darkness of your video room you sit. Quiet in the near-silence, head lowered, gently running your fingers over it, again and again.

Kenma’s lulling voice is the only thing you hear, playing over his stream, and you shut your eyes, bringing your knees and the box up to your chest. It jabs your ribs, sits uncomfortable, but you don’t really care.

“Do you even like what you do?”

(What I’m doing now, at least… yeah, I do. I really do.)

--- (change the chanel) ---

(L/n) is typing...

Hey, can we talk? 

It’s nothing important, let’s just meet up for dinner if you’re free!

Is that fine?

Kenma is typing...

Yes.

Location sent.

Let’s go here. I’ll make reservations.

Okay! :)

(Y/n) is typing…

(Y/n) stopped typing.

--- (change the chanel) ---

The place Kenma picks is some ridiculously nice looking Japanese Restaurant. It’s dimly lit and elegant and fancier than anything you’re used to, and you’re not really sure why he picks it until he orders for both of you and then the wagyu comes out and you know.

Seeing the steak, knowing you’ll get a good meal—it kind of makes this whole thing a lot easier.

Kenma sits comfortably on the floor right across from you. It’s a small, private room he’s rented out for the both of you. He’s dressed in the usual—baggy sweatshirts and athletic but comfortable joggers, and his hair is pulled back a little more neatly tonight as he pours tea for you and then for himself.

“This smells so good,” you say, mouth watering as you pick up the smooth, fancy wooden chopsticks. “Mind if I start?”

“Go ahead,” Kenma says. He leans back, picking up his spoon to dig into his own soup first. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The game,” you say around a mouthful of wagyu. It melts like butter on your tongue. “I’m going to give it to you.”

Kenma freezes, looking up at you in shock. His spoon clutters back into his bowl.

“What?” Kenma says.

“I’ve thought about it,” you say. “You were right. I don’t even have the console to play it anymore. It kinda just sits, collecting dust. It’s not fair when that game is literally everything.”

Your hands still a bit. You stare at the sizzling hot plate.

“I think you have a lot of fun with your streams,” you say, softer. “I think… I think Water Emblem would be well off in your hands. I think… I think it’s what it deserves, you know?”

Kenma is silent, frozen like a statue in front of you. You continue, lightly tracing a thumb over your other wrist, as though in comfort. Moments like this, you do wish for the chance to scent or be scented by someone again—just something familiar, something warm and nice. Your family is miles away and you just...

“I’ve had too much fun playing it again thanks to you,” you say, warm, full of happiness. Yeah, this is what feels right. “And you never once asked for the money from that night back, even though it should’ve just gone into paying for the game… that’s why I want to just give it to you. You’ve already done too much for me, and it’s more than paid for the game.”

“Hold on,” Kenma says. “I—hold on, one second.” He rushes for his phone, fumbling. You shake your head. “No, hold on—”

“I’ve still got my streams to do,” you say with an awkward laugh. “I can’t spend all my time playing video games again. Once exams come up and then—”

“No,” Kenma tries, looking a bit frustrated. He curses at his phone, “Give me a second to explain before you—”

“I’m doing this,” you say resolutely, standing up from your seat. Kenma balks. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Besides, I guess I got to meet you. That’s not so bad. Now stop making this weird and let me just do something cool for once in my life—”

“I want you to do a streaming series with me!”

You stop, staring at Kenma. He holds out his phone, showing the screen to you—but your eyes are on him, round and disbelieving and then—

Your entire face flushes bright red, cherry like a tomato.

“Y-Y-You w-w-w-want to d-d-do a s-stream with me—”

“Not one of yours!” Kenma blurts. You blink. He curses, ruffling his hair roughly before he gestures again with more vigor to his phone, “This—just look at this.”

You glance to Kenma’s phone.

“...you’re doing a new stream series,” you say, eyes widening in awe. “It’s going to be on the secret, never played route for Water Emblem—see! That’s perfect! If you’re going to do that, you need my half of the game and—”

“I want to do it with you.”

You freeze, mouth falling open.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you came over to play,” Kenma says, quietly setting his phone down on the table—he takes on the tone that means business, the calm, lulling one he your hear him use on the phone sometimes to make sure deals are delivered and he gets what he wants. “It’d be a great idea, and it’d be… fun. I’ve been letting you play because I wanted to see if the style would be compatible and I think it’ll be more than fine.”

Kenma taps his phone again.

“Of course, you’d be compensated,” he turns it to you, “we’d split the profits 50/50 from each streaming episode. Considering my normal projected view count and ad revenue, you can expect at least this much.”

You look at the numbers.

Your mouth stays open, knees sinking to the floor.

“If you’re willing,” Kenma says quietly, “to take a break from your streams to do this series with me… I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

Can things really, really work out, just like that?

“Besides,” Kenma says, even quieter. You close your mouth, looking at him in disbelief, in awe, in reverence, and he meets your gaze with his golden one.

“The secret route is meant for dual players,” Kenma says. “Water Emblem is known for being a single player, but what makes it special is it needs two for this route… it… it would be a disservice to the story to do it any other way.”

You can’t help it.

Your scent and pheromones you struggle and try so, so hard to always keep under lock and key explode forth, nearly flooding the entire room. Kenma stiffens, going ramrod straight and grabbing onto the top of his pants as your happiness engulfs the two of you. You’re sure it probably alarms everyone in the hall or anywhere near. Your happiness crashes and lulls and your entire face crumples in disbelief—

“Is it really…” you start, like a whisper, “really okay?”

Kenma shifts in his seat. He pulls at the hood of his sweater, opening his mouth before he quickly closes it. He mutely nods, resolute, and you stand up, lunging across the table to grab his hands. Kenma’s face flushes a bright red, his body stiffening in alarm.

“Kenma!” you say. “Kenma! Kenma, you’re a godsend! A guardian angel! My guardian angel! You don’t understand what this means for me—you don’t know what you’re doing for me—”

“(L/n),” Kenma says, he sounds strained. You pause, looking at him with round eyes. “I’m… excited… but I need you…”

Kenma lets out a slow, ragged breath. “Please… tone it down… just a little…”

You tilt your head in confusion. Your eyes drop down, noticing the sweat beading at the corner of Kenma’s temple, at the hard, rigid look in his hazy, warmly golden eyes and…

A soft scent teases your nose. You pause, blinking in disbelief. No way. You’re crazy, right?

“Um, Kenma,” you say, a little nervous. There’s no way, right? “You’re… you’re a… beta, right?”

Even betas could be sensitive to pheromones. You were being too careless right now, you must’ve just been too much and—

Kenma rigidly shakes his head.

You blink, feeling very, very, very small.

“Alpha,” Kenma exhales, holding his hand to his nose, scrunching in on himself while he peers up blearily at you, eyes swimming with something you’ve never seen once in his gaze before. He sticks his wrist out to you. 

“Uh,” you say, hating how nervous you sound. “C-Can… I?”

Kenma wordlessly holds his hand out to you, keeping it in the air. You tentatively step closer for a moment, sniffing lightly. His smell. 

Kenma’s scent is so quiet, it’s no wonder you… you never noticed. It’s become so familiar, always felt so calming and subtle and soothing, but if you look for it the way an omega would, pheromones in tune and acute—you do catch it, just the faint hint of something sharp, the familiar, light tang of alpha and—

You quickly pull back. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and then close it.

“I’m so sorry—”

“You’re fine,” Kenma says, quick and quiet. You mutely nod, mortified. Kenma motions for you to relax as he stands, grabbing his wallet. “I’m going to take care of the bill. Get… fresh air. I’ll be back—”

“You should let me—”

“You can get the next one,” Kenma says. Something in his words makes you strangely complied to listen, ridiculously docile, and you blink in surprise when you sink back to your knees and Kenma’s eyes seem a little warm, a little—

(Pleased?)

“I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you say jovially. Kenma nods, leaving you. You can’t believe it. This is it—this is—

The start of something great.

You hold your head in your hands, unable to contain your happiness.

Oh my god.

You stop, blinking again in realization.

BUT I’VE BEEN SUCH AN IDIOT, HE’S BEEN A—THIS WHOLE TIME—HOW RUDE MUST I HAVE—

You fall back into the cushion, kicking your feet up in disbelief.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid—I better apologize over and over—”

--- (change the chanel) ---

Kenma quietly steps out of the private room, sliding the door shut behind him.

He stands there, silent, basking in the faint afterglow, of the leaking, intoxicating feel of your happiness wrapping thickly around him, clinging to his skin.

Kenma lifts his hand up to his nose. He sniffs, once.

Your scent floods him.

Kenma’s tongue lightly drags up the inside of his wrist. He closes his eyes, briefly catching it—the soft, sweet taste of you against his lips, on his tongue. Kenma waits there, inhaling softly before his eyes slide open, thin, golden slits.

This would be the start of a fairly interesting partnership.

Omegachion has signed off!

Thanks for watching!

[summonerofaskreliza]

Hello! Writing Mun here!

I’m so sorry for the lack of updates to this blog, I ended up having an extremely rough time during this pandemic and I had absolutely no time to update it in any way. However, I do promise that a story detailing Eliza’s adventures in Askr is in the works along with more journal entries!

However we do have exciting news! Unfortunately, we were planning on making a Valentine outfit for Eliza for the Day of Devotion Banner but fell off the mark! However, we did manage to make one for her and a very special character whom we came to adore! Thanks to our lovely artist @delomaniaofficial, we are proud to introduce!

  While we’re still working out how it fits in the story, their story revolves around them begrudgingly taking part of the bridal festival as a favor for a up and coming designer who wanted to put his products on display during the festival but, the two eventually talk about their lack of belief that they will make it to the end of the constant wars to adulthood and what comes with it so, the two have decided to enjoy the festivities along with the others chosen to don the gown/cape for the bridal banner! Please be kind to them, they’re 5 seconds away from leaving!

*We would like to make it clear that neither of these characters are bride and groom and we do not condone children marrying. We want to show how little Elizaveta expects to survive to see her adulthood and what years of fighting can warp minds. With that being said, we apologize in advance as their lines won’t be as...bright as should be expected of the Wedding Banner!

 We hope you will look forward to the story that we plan on making along with this! Any questions, comments, and concerns are welcome!

Ótr: This outfit is so constricting...! How does one fight in this...?

Eliza: Do people not expect to be attacked during nuptial events?

[the-second-tonks]

Hi there! Can I please be a part of your marvel game?

Physical description - I'm a straight female, I'm 5'9 and I have long wavy black hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone and I'm slim with broad shoulders.

Hobbies - I love reading, my favorite genres are fantasy and poetry. I also love learning about new things and collecting knowledge. I'm very interested in psychology, mythology and folklore, history, and fashion. I also have a quite a few creative hobbies! I love embroidery and knitting and I sew a little, I also adore painting and interior design! I love cooking, baking and cleaning up since they take my mind off of things and help me relax.

Likes- I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having discussions on different topics.

Dislikes - I don't like being boxed in or a daily monotonous routine.

Personality - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do I get really talkative and outgoing. I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic and I daydream quite a lot. I'm the therapist friend and people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm also quite smart and ambitious, I love being the best at everything I do. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive.

I'm aware that your game is temporarily closed but it said that you're accepting requests, feel free to ignore this if you aren't! Also your game sounds so fun and the Harry Potter one looks super intriguing too! Thank you and have a great day - 😲

Hello 😲 anon ! Long time no see ! Yes you can definitely be the part of my game ! Yes I was accepting requests back then , you made it on time ! Yep , I'm super excited for the Harry Potter game too , it's already planned !! Have a great day too !

Coming back to your ship , thank you for participating !

Your power is

High IQ !

As you said , you like being best in everything , well now you are . You'd be the best in your school , college and even your further studies . But not did you know you had high IQ , until you stopped working hard and still remembered the simplest things as the time , minute and second of the hour when teacher had thought you all this . You wrote it in the exams without learning it and aced in them . You and your IQ is really a superb addition to the team . While mostly the Avengers team works physically , they might give you some technology related work too ! I feel you would be a great addition in the lab team too

Your life with the Avengers

Your back story. You will be a very simple girl from normal background but you will have a very very very high IQ . As said about you not being known to this before you see yourself writing the correct answers and passing the test (high grades) without even learning for them . You be very confused until you take the IQ test and get to know that you are one of those special people who have a very high IQ. Looking around confused because you didn't want to end up in a job you decided to take some help from net or your friends . The only person you came in your mind when you thought about having a higher IQ was Peter Parker because maybe he was quite similar to you . You wanted to use it for something good . You were ambitious , you wanted the world to know about you and not just work in a job where everyone in the office knew you .. No . That wasn't enough . You decided to apply for internship with Peter. He was all excited when he came to know that you were going to apply for the internship with him and soon win Tony Stark 10 give you and you both were very excited. While you came to know that Peter was Spider-Man you also came to know that your work and peters work was quite different Peter was supposed to save the world while you were supposed to sit in the lab with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner and work on some projects . Nevertheless , you were excited about it . From helping Bruce in the lab and developing a crush on him to fighting against thanos' army beside Bruce-in that suit , constantly kept checking if Bruce was alright you didn't notice when he disappeared from your eyesight until you decided to follow the big footsteps (following them wrong) and came across Wanda destroying vision and simultaneously stopping thanos . Calling on for help from each and everyone you decided to launch at thanos but in vain . Thanos easily disarmed you and threw you at one of the rocks . Still you fought , until you saw Captain and others trying to fight with their determination . You knew this was the end but you wanted to prevent it until it was under your control . But before you could react u saw Thor doing the mishap and felt yourself disappearing in thin air . Before you could completely disappear you told Natasha about your love for Bruce and how much you appreciated loyalty , love and the friendship of the spider Boy. With a new hope , you returned back to the world , fought against thanos again and saved Tony Stark (who spoke how it took them 5 years to think about the time machine idea without you) returning back happily . With your friend and your lover alive you continue to live happily .

Your Bestfriend would be

Peter Parker !

"Peter give it to me back right now!" you yelled as you saw Peter running around with your painting while you were researching on his computer. He had been wanting to work on a project for long but you wanted to research something you are curious about. "I won't give it back , first you need to get up from my computer" he spoke back. You huffed in annoyance . "Ok you can have it back" you spoke knowing that it was not your defeat. Peter came back running , a smile pasted on his face . "you are giving it back to me?" he questioned. Yes P I'm giving it back to you . I can see , your project is more important than my research .." you replied , very well knowing that his project was simply searching on YouTube for Spider-Man videos . "Would you like some cookies Peter?" you asked trying to be polite . "Yes sure !" He chirped , taking a seat on the computer and beginning to work on it.

After 5 minutes he returned back with the worst cookies you would've ever ever made . Smiling wiley, you placed it on Peter's table who hungrily picked up the cookie and took a bite of it only to spit it back into the plate "Ew.. is this-?" Peter slowly looked up and quickly covered up seeing your fake sad face "I mean wow , did you make this?" He spoke , almost controlling the urge to vomit . "Yes peter , isn't it good? I think I've improved a lot" you smiled , knowing that the sweet boy Peter would never say bad about your cooking and baking. "Indeed , you've improved" he spoke , trying to hide his disheveled face. Smirking at it , you spoke "But pete , I'm really hungry. Could you please get something else for me from outside?" You asked . "Yes! Ofcourse I can! We'll eat it together !" He quickly got up and walked out of the room . You smirked at the empty seat in front of the computer , and enjoyed your research while waiting for Peter to return with some tasty food .

Your s/o would be

Bruce Banner !

"He-hey (clears throat)hey ,nwhat are you doing?" Bruce spoke in his nervous voice , clearly trying to be confident and failing at it. You snapped out of your daydream and simply smiled and spoke "just revising and going through our project to see if there are any mistakes". He nodded and and joined you . The whole time his eyes were flickering between your face and your hands not even going to the page that you were pointing at. Even though , you saw what he was doing you didn't point it out because he had been doing that for a few days now . You felt bad for him , but you enjoyed his attention . After all you had a crush on him . "So this is how I am doing and I think there is some mistake in it .what do you think?" you questioned him purposely because you knew he was hardly paying attention. His dreamy eyes were at you while you were staring into his and he spoke " I think it's perfect. and beautiful and pretty and-" you smirked a bit but asked as if you had no clue " what are you talking about?" . He answered without waiting for a split second "You-" . You smiled with a shine in your brown eyes . Twirling your hair in your fingers , you speak dramatically " Me ?" . "Ye-" he snapped out of his daydream and spoke "No! I mean , I was talking about the question you asked .." he blushed , almost becoming a tomato . "He's lying Y/N ." You heard Tony's voice , who had just entered the lab while you both were too busy into each other and continued "I know both of you . He daydreams about you and you about him Y/N . Why don't you both just confess ?" . Now , I'll leave it to you if you want to take Tony's advice or not :)

I hope you liked it !

Thank you for participating !

[miraculousholder]

We Belong Together ~ Chapter 2

We Belong Together ~ AO3

Summary of Chapter 2: A small glimpse of the past from both Marinette and Adrien, shows how they feel about one another...

(Five Years Ago)

Sixteen year old Marinette tightly held onto the small gift box she had made for Adrien’s sweet sixteen birthday. Although the young model didn’t have anything special planned, she still wanted to show her appreciation for their friendship through this small gift. And if she finally gains the guts, then maybe she can ask him out to the movies or to lunch.

“Baby steps, Marinette.” She reminded herself.

Alya comes into campus and spots Marinette pacing back and forth, talking to herself. She chuckles and walks over to her best friend.

“Still not sure how to approach Adrien?” She asked the young teen.

Marinette sighs. “No I know today is the day! I just don’t know when but it’s definitely today!”

“Well you have until break or even after school,” Alya checks their schedule. “If you want I can have Nino bring him over so you can do it in private.”

Marinette shakes her head even though she knew that would be easier. “No I can do this. I promise!”

“Okay, girl come on. Let’s get to homeroom.”

Throughout the whole day, Marinette found it harder and harder to give Adrien’s gift. When she would have the chance, he would be meeting with another classmate. Or when he was alone and she was walking over, somebody else would sit with him. At this point, the universe was really showing Marinette that they were not meant to be.

Until the final bell for the school day rang.

Marinette stayed behind to talk to a teacher about making a banner for the science club and she happily accepted. By the time she left the class and went to the locker room, it was nearly empty.

Adrien sat on the bench and was listening to Natalie’s, his father’s assistant, voicemail. He sighs and ends the voicemail, looking down.

Marinette cautiously walks over. “Adrien?”

Adrien looks up. “Oh hey, Marinette! What are you still doing here?” He asks, hiding the sad tone in his voice.

“Mr. Philips wanted to talk about me making a banner for the science class.” She says and sits down next to him when he made some space for her on the bench. “And you?”

“Oh just waiting for my bodyguard to get here. I guess there was traffic,” he shrugs.

They sat in silence for a moment. Marinette studied his facial expressions and while he remained calm and collective, his eyes told a different story.

“I...I overheard the voicemail your father’s assistant left you,” she spoke up first. “I’m sorry.”

Adrien looks at her and gave her sad smile. “Don’t apologize. I’m kind of used to my father being busy. Even on my birthday.”

“Yeah but still. I feel bad. No one should be alone on their birthday.”

Adrien was about to say something but his phone rang. It was a text message from his bodyguard, saying he was outside.

“My bodyguard is here,” he says and stands up. “Want me to walk you out? A lady should never walk alone.”

Marinette couldn’t help but blush and accepts the offer. On their way out, they spoke about class assignments and maybe getting together with Alya and Nino for a homework session.

Marinette spotted the silver grey car in front of the school.

“So I’ll see you later then?” Adrien says to Marinette.

Marinette nods happily. “Yeah, of course!” Then she remembered the gift she had. “Wait before you...” She started digging in her backpack.

Adrien was surprised to see a small blue box in her hands and she hand it over to him.

“Happy Birthday Adrien,” said Marinette, smiling at the young man. “I-I wanted to give this to you earlier but I got shy. So sorry if it’s a little late.”

Adrien accepted the gift and was stunned. The fact he got a gift from someone and that someone being Marinette.

“Wow...thank you.” He looks at Marinette and hugs her. “I really appreciate this. You’re a good friend to me.”

Marinette blushes really hard and hugs him back. “I’m glad I can be there for you.”

They pull away from each other, Adrien thanking her one last time for the gift before leaving to get in the car.

Marinette was a little sad to be seen as a friend but in all honesty, she knew that’s what Adrien needed.

And being known as his friend was a title she will cherish forever.

But even forever, was a dangerous word to say.

XX

(Present Time)

Marinette snapped out of the trance the lead singer of Cataclysm had on her. She sits back down and sips on her drink, her friends joining her after dancing around to the bands second song.

“They’re insanely talented!” Alya shouts over the loud music.

“They’ve improved a lot since high school!” Mylene shouts. “You guys can see Ivan right?”

Marinette looks and sure enough, each of the band members were some of her classmates from her old school.

Ivan was playing the drums and wearing a unique grey mask with horns that Marinette can only describe as the horns of a goat.

Then another guitarist who she didn’t recognize wore a teal mask and didn’t have a huge extravagant design compared to Ivan.

She can see Kim though on keyboards, wearing a brown mask with a golden head piece sitting on his head. Actually his design was her favorite and she was surprised by how he decided to go with this look. But then again, he was more expressive and loved to show off.

But that Chat Noir...his mask wasn’t impressive and she was thinking up ways to improve it already. A simple black mask couldn’t be enough for someone whose name is literally black cat. No he deserved something more special.

‘Snap out of it!’ She yells at herself. ‘You don’t even know the guy and you already plan to design a mask for him? Get a grip girl!’

Alya nudges at Marinette’s elbow. She leans close to her ear. “Want to stand by the railing again?”

Marinette nodded and joined her friends by the railing of the balcony to continue watching the band.

“Whose the singer?” Marinette asks Alya.

Alya looks at the lead singer and squinting her eyes. “Bad lighting! Can’t really tell.”

No way was Alya going to be the one to tell Marinette that the lead singer was the boy who broke her heart. While Marinette has matured a lot over the years, she can act out irrationally. And knowing how clumsy her friend can be, she’s very capable of freaking out and falling off the balcony somehow.

Luckily Marinette accepted this answer and they continued to have a great time.

The more Chat Noir sang, the more she realized she was falling deeper into the pits of her heart. Was it actually possible to fall in love with someone’s voice? Probably not but yet here she was. She touches her heart and felt it beating faster, almost along side with the drums. It felt like it would burst out of her chest any minute now.

The crowd below her cheered as the band finished their fourth song. She watches as girls go wild as Chat Noir drinks some water. He throws a dashing smile and winks again at the group of girls. They get even more crazier and Marinette couldn’t help but giggle.

“Show off,” she mumbles under her breath. Yet, she still wanted to get to know him.

Nino did say he was bringing them backstage and maybe this was her chance to get to know him. And maybe if she liked how he was as a person, she’ll ask him out to lunch. She wasn’t as shy as before. She’s had a boyfriend before and can talk to guys now without stuttering. She was a goddess! She can do it!

Then she heard him talk.

“Wanted to take a quick moment to thank you all for being here and supporting us tonight. It really means a lot to me and my band.” Chat Noir spoke through the mic. He waited until the crowd’s cheering died down to continue. “We’ve played a few of our old songs, but I’ve written a new one and tonight I’ll be sharing it with you all. I hope you enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it about a special someone who I once knew.”

Chat Noir looked behind his band and his guitarist, nodding in approval so his bandmate can begin to play the song.

The girls looked at Marinette with concerned as her mouth hung open, completely horrified. She knew that voice. She wasn’t stupid. It was the same voice who would crack the dumbest puns ever, but yet they made her laugh every time. The voice that comforted her when she needed to cry over the hardships she had gone through in high school when it came to her friendships and classes, as it sometimes became to much for her to keep up. And the biggest clue of all, it was the same voice she fell in love with over and over again until that horrible day.

She should’ve known those green eyes looked familiar. And she hated just how much of a toll he still had on her.

She held her breath as he sang the first few words of his song.

“You're the light, you're the night. You're the color of my blood. You're the cure, you're the pain. You're the only thing I wanna touch. Never knew that it could mean so much, so much.”

Marinette wanted to run. She felt like the air was getting hotter and her chest getting tighter.

She stood up. “I have to go.” She says and starts grabbing her jacket and purse from the chair.

“Wait Marinette,” Alya grabbed her wrist. “Don’t go please?” She begs her best friend.

“Alya you know-“

“Yes I know and I know you’re still hurt but Marinette...it happened a long time ago. Things have changed. You have to just trust me on this one.”

Marinette looks at her and at her friends.

“If he says or does anything, you have us to kick his ass.” Mylene assured Marinette. Rose and Juleka nodding in approval, backing up Mylene’s claim.

Marinette debated one last time with herself before she sat down. Alya hugged her, rubbing her back. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Marinette nods and dabs her eyes before any tears threatened to fall. As Chat Noir- no Adrien, continued to sing, she took a vow for herself.

To not fall in love with Adrien ever again.

It took forever for her heart to heal and while she found comfort in other men’s arms, it still took her a long time to know what real love truly is. And now that she knew what it is, she wouldn’t be falling for some rich kid.

No.

She deserved better then that. Who that better man is she had no idea, but she knew it would be anyone but Adrien Agreste.

XX

“You're the fear, I don't care. ‘Cause I've never been so high. Follow me through the dark. Let me take you past our satellites. You can see the world you brought to life, to life.”

When Adrien first wrote this song, he immediately thought of Marinette. She was the only girl who struck such a strong nerve on him that she was hard to forget.

She was beautiful, strong, smart, kind, did he already say she was beautiful?

Marinette was the girl every parent wanted their kids to bring home to be introduced as a friend or girlfriend. However, Marinette’s first official meeting with his father wasn’t exactly what he had pictured.

(5 Years Ago)

Their class were getting ready to leave for the New York trip in honor of French American Friendship week. They had sent in their video that briefly told the story of the relationship between George Washington and Marquis de Lafayette.

Almost everyone was going. Except for Chloe, Lila, and Adrien.

While the class can careless about Chloe and Lila, they were upset for Adrien since he wanted to go to the trip.

“Haven’t you tried talking to your dad?” Nino asked him.

“Yeah, but he’s so busy I’m lucky if I see him for dinner.”

Lila chimes into their conversation. “Well don’t worry Adrien. I’ll still be here since I have charity work to get done so you won’t be alone.”

Marinette frowned upon hearing Lila. No way would she allow for Adrien to be alone with her.

“No!” She yells and everyone looks at her. “I mean...we can’t just leave a fellow classmate behind! If Lafayette abandoned George during the war, then there would’ve been no French American Friendship week.” She points at Adrien. “Adrien, you are our Sock Washington! And I will talk to your father and convince him to let you come with us.”

Adrien was stunned. Would she really stand up to his own father just to allow him to go on this trip?

“Wow...thank you Marinette.” He smiles and the classes cheers.

After school, Marinette and their class went to the Agreste manor. Upon seeing the doors to the house, Marinette began to develop cold feet.

“So! Whose coming with me?” She asked her classmates.

Alya chuckles. “Oh no class rep this was your idea and you’re going through with it. You’ll be okay.”

“Yeah! It’s not like he’ll shame you for questioning his parenting skills, remember your name, and ban you from the fashion world.” Spoke Nino and Alya elbowed his stomach.

Nino held his stomach. “Ugh! I mean...you’ll be okay!”

Marinette nodded and turned around. She took a deep breath and walked up the stairs, where Natalie had the doors open for her already.

Gabriel was standing on top of the staircase. “I was told you wanted to briefly speak with me, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?”

“Yes! It’s about your son.” She cleared her throat. “He told us that he wasn’t allowed to go on the trip to New York and I don’t really think that’s fair.”

Gabriel raises a brow. “Oh? And why do you feel that way?”

“Well...all the students who are allowed to go have to have outstanding grades all throughout the school year. Adrien was on top of the class when it came to grades so he was the first to get the invitation. He’s responsible to and always goes to his lessons after school. And on top of that he always has his modeling appointments. I think it would be cool to let Adrien have this opportunity plus there will be chaperones with us to keep us all safe.”

Gabriel frowned and stayed quiet. Marinette began to feel the tension in the air and she started to get nervous. But then Gabriel smiled.

“Very well, Miss Dupain-Cheng. You’ve convinced me. Adrien will go to the trip.”

“Really!?” Marinette cleared her throat. “I mean, thank you. I know Adrien will appreciate this very much.”

“You must really care for my son if you went this far to make sure he was allowed on the trip.” Gabriel comments.

Marinette tried her hardest not to blush. “Yes, sir. He’s a g-good friend of mine!”

“Very well Miss Dupain-Cheng. If this is all then I shall best return back to my office. I will tell Adrien the news when he returns from his fencing lessons.”

“Thank you, Mr. Agreste!” She smiles widely and happily leaves to tell her classmates the good news.

Once she had left with his classmates, Adrien had been given the news by his father that he was allowed to go on the trip as long as his personal bodyguard went along.

Gorilla, terrified of flying, only agreed cause he knew it would make Adrien happy.

Adrien was shocked but extremely happy that his father came around.

“You should also thank your classmate, Marinette. She’s the one who came here to convince me.” He says and left it at that.

Adrien knew Marinette planned to talk to his father. He just didn’t think she would go through with it. But the fact that she did, shows just how much she cared for him.

And during that plane ride to New York, they both stared out at the window. Looking at the sunset.

He glanced over and didn’t realize just how pretty she looked as the sun brightened up her face. Nor did ever think why his heart beat so fast when he hugged her and then shared another dance with her on the rooftop party.

And when he finally realized it all, it would be to late.

(Present Time)

Adrien continued to sing, nearing the end of the song. He looked up to where Marinette was and sang, “Oh, I'll let you set the pace. Oh, 'cause I'm not thinking straight. Though my head's spinning around, I can't see clear no more. What are you waiting for?”

What exactly was he waiting for? To find the opportunity to talk to Marinette and clear a lot of things up. It’s the least he can do after what happened between them.

Yet Marinette can sometimes be stubborn so to even get her alone for five minutes will be challenging. But it definitely isn’t impossible.

XX

After his song, they continued on with the show and finished by midnight. The club would be open for a bit longer, now just listening to a DJ play the music.

Marinette and her friends head downstairs to go backstage. Alya whispered to the security the code and they were allowed to pass by. As they got closer, Marinette started to feel dizzy and sick.

She did have a few drinks but she didn’t think it was the alcohol affecting her.

They get to the dressing room and they’re let in by the staff. The girls walk in and sit wherever felt more comfortable and waited for the guys.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen Kim and Adrien!” Says Rose.

“It has been awhile hasn’t it?” Juleka spoke softly.

“I wish Alix was here.” Says Mylene.

“She’ll be back next week. Then we can all go out to lunch.” Alya suggested and everyone else agreed.

Marinette started to feel pale as soon as the guys came in. She drank some water but her stomach started to feel weird.

And then she saw him.

Adrien Agreste.

His hair was messy and his shirt was slightly damped because of the constant sweating from the heavy lighting. And once he took off his mask, she can finally see just how much Adrien has grown since she last saw him.

He lost his baby fat so his jawline was more firm, yet on the stage she knew he kept his boyish grin. His shirt was loose but his arms were exposed, which allowed for Marinette to see how his muscles have also grown and were defined. Was that a tattoo she also saw on his upper shoulder?

Adrien was handed a towel to dab the sweat off his face. He looks at Marinette and he felt his world freeze. He can hear their friends talking in the background, but they were only mumbled noises to him.

Marinette was getting dizzy and heard her stomach making a weird noise as Adrien took a few steps closer to her.

“Hey, Marinette.” He says softly. His voice still sounding like the sweetest song to the young women. “Long time no see huh?”

Then, she threw up on his shoes.

[amrita-gsk]

And here's the second part of my playthrough of the Desert Society quests...

With his three wishes already spent, Ichigo keeps looking for the oasis and comes across Yoruichi, a dancer, and after noticing Kon's lamp is now missing, he runs into Rukia believing she stole it from them but she just wants to return the lamp to its rightful place. She then tells them she is being followed...

Kon says it's not him because he's bound to the lamp...

...and Ichigo states that he doesn't know her and has no reason to do so. So this is their first meeting in this world...!

A few moments later Yoruichi appears as a cat, Ichigo breaks her transformation and she tells them she's after the lamp and Rukia but right as she's explaining this, Wakame-san appears and states he's there to retrieve the lamp and the girl...

And before Kon can say anything about it...

...Ichigo is already on it! But they just met her a few moments ago and Yoruichi was just telling them how Rukia is a thief!! Shouldn't he just hand her over then? Why would he protect a thief?

Anyway, they beat Wakame-san and he explains that his master has a personal interest on Rukia, to which Yoruichi interjects saying that it's because she resembles someone he once loved. So Wakame-san kindly asks Rukia to accompany him to which she agrees to, but there's someone who has something to say about it...

But Rukia is Rukia in each and every world, so...

... that's what she says. I just gotta love Rukia no matter what she says or does, she's cute, silly, gorgeous and elegant all at the same time, it's just impossible to not love her. Follow your dreams my girl! Go!

But Ichigo is not convinced...

Just let her go my boy, why are you so worried about a thief you just met? Hmmmmmm...

But once again, Rukia is Rukia... and insists that she's curious and that she'll be fine. Ichigo finally agrees to let her go (she's gonna be accompanied by Yoruichi anyway) and so they part ways.

It was a very short story but it was a lot of fun, I absolutely loved their designs and I'm still crying about not pulling Rukia but I'll just wait for her solo banner, Cacao Society Urahara also made an appearance so you're telling me there's a multiverse?! and Ichigo was just too cute when interacting with Rukia. At first he did doubt her and accused her of being a thief but as soon as she told them she was being stalked followed he instantly turned into full protective mode, no questions asked and then he just didn't want to let her go to this rich man that finds her similar to "someone he loved before". The cherry on top of this all is that Ichigo's summoning phrase is...

...and he used it when he was about to fight for Rukia...!!! I truly live for the simplest things.

Maaan, Klab does really like to play with our feelings but it does give us gold whenever they use Rukia and Ichigo for their special stories. And with all the fanarts around I feel so blessed~ =w=

I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I did, flaws and all!

[werewolfdays]

Touch prompt 1 and 24 ???🥺🥺👉👈

here, have some Christmas time fluff!!! 

1. With love:

I was in the middle of brushing my teeth when I felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around my torso. Nadya leaned heavily into me, resting her head on the back of my shoulder, and I knew without asking that she was still mostly asleep. I was kind of surprised she was awake at all right now. Even planned to let her sleep in for as long as she liked today. 

I chuckled and spit out some toothpaste into the bathroom sink, “Didn’t think I would see you up and around for at least another few hours.” 

“It’s Christmas.” She mumbled drowsily, “I always get up early for Christmas.” 

“That’s good to know.” I mused and continued to brush my teeth while Nadya used my body to keep herself upright. 

Her hands worked their way under my sweater and the heat of my skin made her melt into me further. If she wasn’t careful, Nadya would become a puddle against me, but she kept herself busy with tracing some of the scars across my abdomen. Each gentle touch laced with her silent love. She hummed calmly, pressing her forehead to the back of my neck. I had to admit that her presence was drawing me in even more after each passing heartbeat. It was getting increasingly harder to remember what I was doing. 

“You’re so warm.” She murmured, swaying gently with me.

“So are you.” I said after I finished up and put my toothbrush aside. 

I carefully twisted myself around in her arms so I could face her. Nadya’s perfect brown eyes met mine and I wanted nothing more than to drown in them. She continued to lean against me, her hands wandering up and down my back and sides in lazy caresses. Unable to hold back from touching her too, I reached up to brush some of her messy hair behind her ear and rest my palm against her cheek. I saw, as well as felt, her face flush and she tilted her head into my touch while she looked at me adoringly.   

“Not as warm as you.” 

“There’s more than one way to be warm, my love.” 

We both leaned in at the same time, our lips meeting each other halfway. There wasn’t anything particularly deep about the way we were kissing right now, in fact, our cadence was more reserved than anything else, but the depth of passion I could always feel from her took me off guard every time. Our strokes were as soft as she was, as warm as our skin on skin contact underneath my sweater. Even if I was able to kiss her like this forever, it wouldn’t be enough. Nadya’s arms wrapping around me tighter made me think she felt the same way. 

When we inevitably broke away from each other, I rested my lips on the spot between her eyebrows, holding her to me for just a few moments longer. I felt her breathless sigh against my neck and wondered how I ever went without loving her as much as I do. 

No part of me wanted to, but I pulled away, “You want to go have some coffee by the fire in the Den?”

She nodded, her arms slowly disentangling from me, but not fully breaking contact yet. “Can I have this?” She asked while tugging at the bottom of my sweater. 

I gave her an amused eye roll and nodded with a crooked grin, “Go on, take it.” 

Nadya happily pulled the cozy sweater over my head and put it on with a grin that I never would have been able to refuse. After a grateful peck, she switched places with me at the sink and I went to retrieve something new to wear from the closet. 

The Lodge itself was at its most barren during the holidays as the least desperate wolves tried to be with their own packs, but there were still some permanent residents lingering around the cozy corners of the Den with what little companionship they had. Fresh blankets of snow outside, with frost clinging to the edges of the tall windows, and a big Christmas tree standing next to the fireplace gave the common space that special festive feeling. Nadya lit up when she saw it, which made me smile. 

Skye perked up from her spot on one of the couches when we approached, “Ugh, finally!” 

I watched her jump to her feet and practically skip over to the Christmas tree while Nadya and I got comfortable on our usual couch. Toby brought us fresh cups of coffee and Skye handed out gifts like an excited kid. A huge part of me was glad to see that she still had the same amount of excitement for the holiday as she did when we were little. 

Skye was immediately drawn to the fancy origami paper Nadya got for her and it didn’t take her long to start going wild with it on the coffee table. Soon it was like a mini paper zoo had taken over the table. All sorts of intricately folded animals surrounding her busy hands.

Nadya, on the other hand, was already several pages deep into a novel Toby had gifted her, one that they had talked about a couple weeks earlier. She was lying comfortably against me on the couch, her back resting on my chest, sitting in between my legs. I tried to track the words over her shoulder, but she read too fast for me. Still, I enjoyed her closeness more than anything, though I did eye the campfire cookbook she got for me. Ideas were already brewing in my brain for our next camping trip. 

Toby went straight for the bar when he saw he had some new fancy equipment to work with when making drinks. It was kind of funny to see him handing out cocktails to anyone that would take them this early in the morning. He only took a break to serve us some tamales his family made and delivered to him as a Christmas gift. Another year had gone by and I still couldn’t get the family recipe from his mother, though I refused to give up trying my own spin on the dish with Toby’s help. 

This was starting to be one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had. Definitely the best one I’ve had since before my parents died. I honestly didn’t think I would ever be able to achieve the kind of peace the holiday used to give me again, but having the love of my life happily in my arms, and my pack content, was more than I could have dreamed of. 

My eyes did keep traveling to the last little gift hidden under the tree, wondering if Nadya would eventually notice it. It was small and thin enough to be missed by Skye and her enthusiasm for presents, so I knew that Nadya, being as engrossed in her book as she was, probably wouldn’t realize it was there any time soon. 

I pressed a kiss to the side of her head to get her attention, “What’s that?” I asked into her hair while pointing to where the tiny present was waiting. 

Nadya followed the line of my finger until she finally saw it. Then she glanced back at me over her shoulder, “Is that for me?” 

“Mhm.” I confirmed. 

She hesitated, chewing on her lip as she eyed the gift. I was wondering what she was contemplating when she spoke to my sister, who was the closest to the tree, “Skye?”

“What?” Skye asked, slowly looking up from her work. She turned to where Nadya was pointing and we both realized that Nadya was just too comfortable to get up for her present. I smirked when Skye’s shoulders slumped as she returned her exasperated gaze to my girlfriend, “Seriously?”

“Please?” 

I fixed my little sister with a swift glare when her eyes met mine, urging her to do as Nadya requested. She sighed and stood up to retrieve what Nadya wanted before happily returning to her origami. 

Nadya thanked her and examined the skinny box in her hands that was wrapped in festive paper with a neatly tied bow. I must have wrapped the damn thing half a dozen times to get it to look right. After she took a moment to admire the work I put into it, she carefully unwrapped the gift. Once the sleek box was free of the paper, she flipped it open to reveal the necklace inside.

A small gasp left her lips as she held the chain up to get a better look at the pendant. The casted seal stamp glimmered in the firelight as it lightly swung in the air back and forth. The design had a small wolf standing atop a mountain and howling at the moon, and a small banner curved at the top, showcasing a Latin phrase in letters barely big enough to read. 

The pendant came to rest in her palm and I cradled her hand in mine, brushing my thumb over the words, “‘I Struggle and Emerge.’” I translated quietly, letting my thumb explore the rest of her palm, “This is a symbol of strength.” 

“It’s beautiful.” Nadya marveled. 

“I told you I would get you a necklace that wouldn’t burn me.” 

“You did.” She said with amusement while thumbing the pendant like I had. Then she placed it in my hand, “Will you put it on me?”

I smiled and accepted the pendant, using my other hand to brush her hair out of the way. My arms came around her and then I brought the separated clasps together at the back of her neck, hooking them and letting my hands come to rest on her shoulders. Nadya looked down at the necklace resting on her chest and took a moment to hold it like it was her most prized possession. My heart sang even more when she looked back at me again in gratitude. 

“Thank you, Jay.” She told me softly. 

I let the back of my finger brush her cheek, knowing that there’s no way a single touch or a single gift could ever convey how much I loved her, but I hoped she could sense it anyway, “Merry Christmas, Nadya.” 

“Merry Christmas.” She replied, resting back against me once more when I pressed a kiss to her temple.

24. To say hello:

My boots crunched into the fresh snow as it flurried all around me before coming to rest on the ground, culminating in mounds of pure white powder. All of the pines in sight looked like they had been dusted with sugar and my breath came out in visible puffs before me. There was something so magical about a forest during the winter time, something that even the biting cold couldn’t make me hate. 

I paused too many times to count to take dozens of photographs with all of the new film I received yesterday for Christmas. This was such a peaceful and perfect day. All I missed was Jayde, but she had to go back to her patrol duties today, no matter how hard I tried to convince her to take another day off with me. I would see her later though and that was enough for me. Plus, I wouldn’t bore her by dragging her around to take all of these pictures. 

A particularly cold breeze made me shiver. I adjusted the beanie on my head and wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck in an effort to conserve some body heat. While I was doing that, I heard a snap of a twig somewhere off to my right. My steps faltered as I listened for more, but the forest fell quiet, so my eyes searched for any movement that I couldn’t hear. There didn’t seem to be anything, even with me staring off into the misted woods for several long moments. 

Unsure whether or not I should be nervous, I continued onwards. It was probably only a deer or some small critter. Other werewolves usually stayed far away from me when they were in their wolf forms, not wanting to make me feel unsafe or face Jayde’s over protectiveness. Of course, that didn’t mean I would never accidentally come across someone’s path eventually. I kept my eyes and ears peeled just in case. 

My peaceful surroundings consumed me again, so many beautiful sights ranging from minute details on the side of the trail to grand landscape scenes that broke through some of the trees, showing miles and miles of snow-covered mountains. It made me think of the present Jayde gave me yesterday. I reached for the necklace, smiling when my fingers found it peeking through my scarf. The freezing air made the metal pendant cold to the touch, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to be reminded of the best gift I’ve ever received. 

Another rustle in the woods behind me made my head snap around. This time, I was positive that whatever or whoever it was had to know I was here, and they weren’t trying to avoid me. I backed away from the sound, trying not to be alarmed by the presence. 

“I can hear you.” I called out, “Do you need something?” 

There wasn’t an answer. And there wasn’t any movement out there. 

I continued to back up while I searched my surroundings for any sign of someone. Just as I was starting to get uneasy, the back of my legs connected with something large and soft. I hopped forward with a startled yelp and flipped myself around to see Jayde in her wolf form standing there with her tail wagging and her tongue lolling out in a wolfish grin. She had been messing with me the whole time. 

“Are you serious?” I yelled at her through a laugh. 

Jayde sat on her haunches, looking proud of herself. The color of her fur blended so perfectly with the snow around her that she probably didn’t even have to try all that hard to be stealthy. There’s no way I would have been able to spot her from a distance. 

“You scared me, you know.” 

She gave me a teasing bark and leapt towards me. Her massive wolf body playfully tackled mine into the built up powder on the ground. I started laughing while her snout poked me in all of my ticklish spots, trying to wrestle her head away. A growl rumbled in her chest when I grabbed her muzzle and clamped it shut with my hands. 

“What are you gonna do now?” I challenged. 

I held on tighter when she tried to shake me off, forcing her to use one of her giant paws to pry my hands off of her. I took advantage of the fact that she had to be gentle with me, shrugging her claws away from my arms. Knowing that she was at a disadvantage, Jayde growled even more menacingly in my face, but I wasn’t deterred in the slightest. I simply raised one of my eyebrows and placed a quick kiss to her forehead. That shut her up fast. 

Once she shook it off, she snorted indignantly and plopped herself down right on top of me, effectively pinning me to the ground and further into the pile of freezing snow. It reminded me of the way large dogs sometimes don’t understand that they aren’t lap dogs. I lied there groaning for a few seconds before her weight was too much. 

“Alright, alright. Truce?” I suggested in a strained voice.

Jayde gave a single nod and stood up at the same time I released her muzzle. I sat up and shook my head at her with an exasperated grin. She stared right back at me with glowing amber eyes, her tail still wagging, and waited. 

“Well, hello.” I giggled and held my arms out. 

The white wolf immediately fell into my embrace, nuzzling against my head and knocking my beanie askew. I ran my hands through her fur, enjoying the softness and the insulated warmth of her wolf form. She was definitely built for this kind of weather. It made me want to find a spot and curl up with her because I could feel the melting snow begin to soak into my clothes. I shivered again, my teeth chattering, and pulled her closer, which resulted in a concerned grumble from her. 

“Maybe we should head home soon. I think I’m in the mood for a hot bath.” I said. 

Jayde leaned back to cock her head curiously at me. Then she stood up and gently bit my sleeve to pull me to my feet. I laughed at her sudden enthusiasm and gladly started to follow her back to the Lodge where we could get nice and cozy together for the rest of the day.

[purrfectstrangers]

The Crimson Emperor

Loud.

That was the only way to describe the throne room. It was loud.

Gold pillars upheld a gold celling that gold chandeliers hung from. It glittered and glowed to a blinding degree, only cut off by banners of a pink Peixes symbol that miscellaneously decorated the walls. Red carpets covered the white tiled floors, providing the only real color variation in the room.

Karkat had to squint as he was dragged in. The room seemed to be made out of pure pride and ego, like a neon sign loudly declaring "I am here, look at me, I am the center of your world". Karkat's eyes didn't have time to adjust before he was forced to his knees by the meaty hands on his shoulders. His head was forced up so he could stare at the center of it all. A big, garish, bedazzled throne, decked out in all matter of gems and designs, that currently seated Her Imperious Condescension.

If the room was loud, The Condesce was big.

The chair, more than big enough to hold three people, barely managed to fit her titanic ass. The Empress' royal attire wasn't fairing much better, stretched thinly across her breasts as it was. It resisted tearing in a way only latex could, highlighting every detail. Though it honestly seemed as if one movement too quick could rip it open. Not that Condy seemed to mind, the suit seemed tailor built to allow any troll to admire her at any time. It's not like she was hard to spot, she looked at least twelve feet tall, minus the hair and horns.

Condy hadn't even bothered to look up from her shell phone, she was reclined back into her seat like it was a couch. She seemed used to seeing prisoners brought before her, and Karkat could guess why. You didn't get a figure like that without a lot of meat in your diet. "Whale, buoys, what did you bring me? A small shrimp snack, a quick fuck, or a nice, big..." Condy stopped and did a double take as her eyes trailed down to Karkat. She did an honest double take, recognition and suprise crossing her features. Karkat really hoped it was the defiance in his eyes, like some kind of internal fire that intrigued her, but her reemerging smirk killed any chance of that. 

"...Buffet." Her shell phone snapped shut, a smug grin crossed her features as she stood up. Her hips bounced and swayed with every step, her strut was designed for that. It was hypnotizing, intoxicating even, to look at. "Whale, whale, what do we have here?" Even as Karkat was forced to stand, he barely came up to her thighs. The Condesce still had to bend over to speak to him. "Never thought I'd see a mutie like you again."

Karkat glared up at her. "ARE YOU DONE BEING NAUSEATINGLY SMUG? BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT GOOD AT IT. I HAD TO PUT UP WITH SERKET FOR MOST OF MY LIFE, I CAN HANDLE A LITTLE ATTITUDE FROM YOU." Condy gasped in mock admonishment. "Why, Mutie. You've got some mouth on you. Judging from the last crabby shrimp I had to deal with, I was expecting some manners." Karkat's scowl tightened. "JUDGING FROM YOUR DECENDANT, I WAS EXPECTING YOU TO HAVE A PERSONALITY. YET, HERE YOU ARE, STUFFING YOURSELF ON PRISONERS TO SATIATE YOUR EGO, ALL WHILE WEARING THE TIGHTEST CLOTHES YOU CAN FIND IN THE HOPES THAT SOME SAD SAP WILL JACK OFF TO YOU. I'M UNIMPRESSED."

Condy cackled. "Oh, you poor little guppy. You have no idea what you're getting into do you?" Condy snapped her fingers. Quickly, the guards unlocked Karkat's cuffs, shoving him forward into Condy's arms before hustling off. The Empress simply hummed merrily as she lifted the troll up like a feather, the lift killing any rant he could start. "You've got such a creative mouth on you," she remarked, toying with his cheek, "I'll enjoy hearing you use it... after a break you."

Karkat sputtered. "WHA- BREAK ME! YOU COULDN'T BREAK A FUCKING PAPER BAG WITHOUT IT BEING SOFTENED UP FOR YOU FIRST. YOU'D BE LUCKY TO- AAaaaa-" Karkat's rant was cut off as Condy groped his ass, bedazzled claws scrapping against tight denim. "And you've got such a dumptruck on you too. Almost don't know which hole to break first. You a pred too, shrimp?" Karkat just scowled. "SOME OF US HAVE TO HUNT FOR OUR FOOD, BELIEVE IT OR NOT. IT'S ACTUALLY QUITE EXHILARATING, YOU SHOULD TRY IT SOMETIME." 

Condy lazily fell back into her throne, squishing her ass and jiggling her hips in one swoop. Karkat was preached on her lap, cradled like a baby. His exasperated expression told her exactly what he thought of that and she was loving it. "Between you and me, crabby, I'd love too. You should tell me more aboat it when you're... broken in." Condy snapped her fingers again, and a floating camera emerged from the floor, hovering around the duo. "For now, just be a good guppy and help me put on a show."

Televisions all across the Empire flickered, billions of shows and broadcasts were cut off. The Alternian Empire leaned forward eagerly. It was time for one of those very special broadcasts. "Buoys and gills, lend me your eyes." Condy said smugly, wrapping her claws around Karkat's cheeks. "We've got a very special toy joining us tonight." Karkat scowled and shoved her hand away, much to her amusement. "He's still got an attitude. Place your bets. How long will it last?" If the Condesce was amused, Karkat was equally unamused. "ARE YOU GOING TO START OR WHAT? CONTRARY TO WHAT YOU THINK, THE AUDIENCE ISN'T HERE TO WATCH YOU TALK." 

Condy smirked. "I'm gonna enjoy making you scream." Something writhed beneath Karkat's ass, something that stretched the latex to its breaking point. For a moment, Karkat almost looked nervous. "Yeah, there it is. You're a shrimp under that scowl, aren't ya Mutie?" Karkat tried to look eyes with her again, but she clearly wasn't buying it. "Don't worry, it'll only hurt a lot." 

The tip of a pink bulge creeped onto his lap, staining his jeans as it began to slink around his waist. Condy let out a low chuckle, sadistically showing her prey what she'll be ruining them with for the next few hours. "How big do your prey get, guppy?" Condy asked smugly. "Cause this? This is a solid ten feet." Condy stopped admiring her own bulge to drink in Karkat's expression. But... he wasn't scared. He didn't look unnerved, intimidated, or even suprised. Hell, he didn't even look mad.

He looked... unimpressed.

"...TEN FEET?" 

"That's what I said. Suprised?" 

Karkat blinked and shifted awkwardly.

"I MEAN, I GUESS. IT'S JUST... SHOULDN'T IT BE A LITTLE.... BIGGER?" Condy looked confused for a second, before nearly doubling over in laughter. "Bigger? Beach, any bigger and I'd pop you with it." She leaned in, talking down to him like a child. "What's the word on the street? 11? 13? What were you expectin?" Karkat just raised an eyebrow. "PRETTY SURE YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME BUT... ALRIGHT." Karkat casually unwrapped himself, shaking some pink slime off himself as he got up. He took a few steps back away from the throne.

"AT LEAST BIGGER THAN THIS."

Karkat unzipped his jeans and his bulge fell out with a thunk. The rest unsheathed slowly to reveal at least 15 feet of twisting, writhing, dripping meat. With a base that nearly encompassed his thighs, it was a miracle Karkat could even stand. 

The Condesce's silence could be heard around the world.

Her shocked awe was shared by the world. All anyone could was stare with mouths agape at the sheer girth of it. Karkat grinned. "YOU WERE SAYING?" Condy stammered. "I-Whale... uh..." The tip of Karkat's bulge jutted into her face, instantly flooding her nostrils with a musky, sweaty scent. "NO NO, GO ON. LET'S HERE IT. WHAT WERE YOU SAYING?" The Condescension took a deep, steadying breath. "I was sayin, uh..." A facsimile of her earlier smug demeanor returned, back it rang a lot more hollow. "I was saying, get that little thing over here." 

Karkat snorted, bemused. "GLADLY." The dripping red tentacle wrapped around her leg, pulling her off the throne with ease. Karkat loomed over her, camera hoovering over his shoulder. Even on the ground, Condy still tried to look smug. "Where you gonna put it, guppy?" Her eyes flickered between Karkat and the bulge. "Doesn't matter. I can handle it either way." Karkat just kneeled down, pulling her pants down to her ankles. It took some harsh tugging given how tightly her ass was wrapped in it. "I HOPE SO. I PLAN ON FITTING IT ALL IN." 

Condy's fins flared, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Why... Mutie..." 

"KARKAT. MY NAME IS KARKAT."

Karkat positioned himself over her, his hands wrapped around her arms as best as he could.

"HOW ABOUT YOU PRACTICE IT A LITTLE? BECAUSE I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU SCREAM IT."

Condy gasped wordlessly as Karkat's tip penetrated her nook. "I think, aha..." Condy bit her lip as Karkat burrowed into her, every little thrust shaking her body. "I think I hit the jackpot." Karkat grunted as he thrust in again, her abdomin already bulging. "I THINK I'M HITTING YOUR SWEET SPOT."  More accurately, he was hitting every spot. Condy moaned again. "Cod, feels like I'm sucking in a whole troll. Just a lot more... squirmy."

Karkat smirked. "LIKE YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO DO TO ME?" Karkat pulled his sweater over his head, letting his glistening, sweaty chest free as he tossed the black cloth aside. The Empress licked her lips as she admired the view. "Like I might still do to you, Crab Kat." Karkat thrust in deeper, cutting Condy off as she stifled a grunt. "TRY IT, APPETIZER. WHEN I'M DONE, YOU'LL BE BEGGING FOR ME TO EAT YOU." Condy's claws wrapped around Karkat's shoulders. "Promise?" Karkat gave her a slow once over. 

"PROMISE."

That's when the niceties stopped.

The challenge was voiced, the gauntlet was thrown, and Karkat was done playing nice. "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU JUST ASKED FOR." Karkat pulled back slowly. Dragging himself out inch by inch. Once he posed, he trust in.

One. Condy grunted, her abdomen bulged, her breasts jiggled like cheap balloons to a degree they shouldn't have been able too. 

Two. Condy gasped. Her legs spread. Her shirt creaked in protest.

Three. Condy screamed. Her legs wrapped around Karkat instinctively. Her latex top ripped and her womb bulged.

Karkat was only halfway in.

Past that point he sped up. Moving less like a sledgehammer and more like a jackhammer. Wet slapping sounds filled the air as Condy's mind raced. His sweaty scent was filling her nostrils, invading her mind. "SO FAR, YOU'RE REALLY NOT IMPRESSING ME." He barely sounded winded. "COMPARED TO OTHER PEOPLE I'VE MANAGED TO BREAK, I MEAN." Condy's ego roared at that, but was quickly shut up as another thrust forced a moan out of her. 

"I MEAN, FIRST THERE WAS NEPETA. SHE HAD WANTED ME FOR SWEEPS, SO I FINALLY ROLLED OVER AND GAVE HER WHAT SHE WANTED."

Karkat slid deeper still, and Condy's arms briefly spasmed.

"SHE LASTED THREE HOURS."

Karkat's grip tightened. Her mind fogged.

"THEN THERE WAS TEREZI. THAT WAS MORE OF A ONE NIGHT STAND. SHE WAS AT MY HIVE AND WE FIGURED, WHY NOT?"

Karkat growled. Condy's legs spasmed. She didn't notice either.

"SHE LASTED AN ENTIRE DAY."

She could smell him, his breath, his sweat. His voice drowned out her own.

"LAST ONE I HAD WAS VRISKA. SHE DARED ME THAT I COULDN'T BREAK HER. SHE WAS REAL SMUG ABOUT IT."

Her heartbeat pounded, roared in her chest. Despite that, she couldn't even hear it over his. She soundlessly screamed his name.

"SHE ONLY LASTED TEN MINUTES."

Karkat slid in with a pop, soon followed by his bulge blasting forth gallons of genetic material. Condy's gut ballooned, bloating out like a used condom. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth gapped open, her mind filled with static. As Her Imperious Condescension lay limp on the ground, all she could think about was Karkat Vantas.

"...STILL A LOT LONGER THAN YOU LASTED." Karkat got up, sheathing his bulge and pulling his jeans back up. He turned to the camera and halfheartedly gestured at the broken Empress. "IF ANY OF YOU ARE STILL WONDERING, THIS ISN'T HER SHOW ANYMORE. IT'S HARD FOR A STUFFED FISH TO RUN AN EMPIRE."

Condy laughed deliriously as she twitched on the ground. "Crab... kat. Crabby crabby kat. Karkat...." Karkat walked over to her, crouching down by her head. "Kat... oh, Karkat, yes.... oh...." He waved his hand in front of her face. It took a few seconds for her to follow it. "Yes... Karkat... darling... ?" 

"YOU'RE ON THE MENU. GET UP." Karkat stepped over her, taking his seat on the throne. Condy slowly got to her feet, swaying back and forth with each step. "A... meal... I've always wanted to be your... meal...." She ripped off what little was left of her shirt and quickly kicked away her pants to join them. She stood bare before him, covered only in her own sweat and material. Karkat put out his hand. "CROWN." 

The Imperial Crown. A symbol of unwavering power. Handed off to an off spectrum mutant without a single thought. Karkat rested the crown on top of his head, only pausing to shake some of her sweat off first. Condy bent over before him, showing off her gloriously thick ass. "If you want to take me... one more time..." Karkat raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I HAVE THREE BETTER ONES THAN YOU ALREADY. BESIDES, I'M HUNGRY." Condy fell forward onto her bloated belly, sticking her feet up into the air.

Karkat grabbed her ankles and gave one of her feet a tentative lick. He smacked his lips, his default, unimpressed scowl still crossing his face. "...GOOD ENOUGH." Karkat stuck the feet in his mouth, savoring the rich, salty taste of the former Empress. She tasted like a well cooked beef and was likely about as juicy. Still, this was hardly the epicenter of her flavor. Her ass on the other hand.

Karkat tilted his head back and swallowed, sucking in her legs like noodles to get the the juicy core of his meal. His stomachs growling was soon satiated, as it only took three gulps for her feet to bulge out his gut. Karkat tilted his head back forward, letting her ass rest on his his face and her bulgle hang loose on his chin. The Condesce, in the meantime, was just muttering his name with a far off expression, enjoying every moment of her devourment. Karkat's jaw clicked as it unhinged, forcing her ass in between his jaws one labored gulp at a time. 

Condy gasped as her master's tongue slathered all over her ruined nook and writhing bulge, her bulge wrapping itself around his tongue. Karkat just moaned in appreciation. Her rich, juicy flavor flooded his tastebuds and her succulent scent only enhanced the experience. He could've sat their for hours, exploring every inch of her ass with his tongue, but his stomach growled demandingly.

Her ass stretched his ribcage to their limits as his lips crept around her cum fillied belly. It sloshed and swayed with every gulp. With how badly he ruined her entrance, Karkat was worried one grip too tight would squeeze all the material out of her. "Oh, cod... you're so warm... so tight..." Condy twitched and moaned as his guts pulsated around her. "Eat me up.... come on, Karkat.... I'm yours..." Her breasts jiggled was one more swallow pressed her guts into his throat. Her hair fell into his eyes before brushed it away. Two big, juicy melons stood between him and his meal.

Glk!

Condy moan breathlessly in time with each gulp. Each nibble kneaded her flesh, each lick memorized her taste, each swallow sealed her fate. It wasn't long until her breasts were just two lumps in Karkat's throat. "I love you... so much... Thank you... for having me, Karkat." One more gulp sent her head down his throat and Karkat quickly slurped down her hair and horns like noodles.

A loud, crass belch rang out around the throne room. Karkat's gut gurgled and groaned as he rubbed it absent mindedly. "OH GOD..." He belched again, spraying put excess spit. "YOU'RE SO FUCKING FILLING." His stomach churned happily in agreement. Karkat looked at the camera. "THERE'RE GOING TO BE A FEW CHANGES AROUND HERE. BUT FIRST, I'M GOING TO SLEEP HER OFF." Karkat snapped his fingers and the camera disappeared.

~

Four days later. Four days later and she was still alive. His gut gurgled and churned around her softened for form and all she did was moan. She worshipped him, muttured his praises with her final shaky breaths. She didn't have much longer.

As she melted, Karkat sat back in his throne. His ever loyal servants -- Terezi, Nepeta, and Vriska -- messaged his grumbling gut and worshipped his body as he rested his head on his fist. His new crown showed off his symbol proudly and the drapes flaunted his royal crimson color.

Alternia would reach a new age of prosperity under The Crimson Emperor.

------------

AAAAAAAH I THOUGHT I POSTED THIS AMAZING STORY

God I will always swoon for Karkat. Call me the most loyal subject, holy shit. xwx

I wish I could properly credit you, but I really reeeeally appreciate this ;u;

[arohasfiction]

HAPPY ASTRO Day~💐

Its ASTRO'S 4th Anniversary since their Debut, and ofc I didn't miss the chance to right a short Scenario to celebrate it today~!!! 💕

----------------------------------

Pairing : ASTRO X AROHA Reader

Word Count: 758

Note: phrases are coloured , ( MJ & Sanha= Orange ), (Jinwoo= Green), ( Eunwoo= Purple)

(Moonbin= Red) ( Rocky= Blue) (You= Pink)

•I recommend you to read this while playing Astro's Gift to us " ONE n ONLY" •

----------------------------------

~23.2.2020~

Its Astro's 4th anniversary and as their manger you wanted to award them for all of their hard work for the past 4 years until today, they didn't have anything to do in particular today so you told them to do whatever they want because they have a schedule from 7-9 pm (depending on what you said) , they listened to you and went, you gathered all of the staffs to help you design the small celebration Hall, you filled the place with ballons and shinning decoration with a huge banner hanged up in the main wall that says " HAPPY ASTRO DAY For Our Bright stars on their 4th Anniversary" , you thanked all of your staff friends and went to dress up in a lovely violet colored dress, your hair is shinning brownly with an Astro logo pin on it. Its was 6:55pm , you're all set and waiting for the boys, but suddenly you remembered that you told them about the schedule thing, it was at least 10 seconds when you saw your phone ringing and it was Jinjin on the phone," Hello leader-nim" ," Hey (Y/N)-yah, aren't we going to the radio station, I'm afraid that we might be late" , " Oh Don't worry about it, are the boys with you~? If they are, i need you all to come to the Celebration hall" , " Okay, we'll be there in few minutes". You asked one of the staffs to turn off the lights and you lighted the candles and all of you waited, soon you heard their voices talking behind the doors about if they are in the right place. The doors were opened and boom!! "SURPRISE!!! HAPPY 4th ANNIVERSARY ASTRO!!!!" You screamed along with everyone, to be honest they looked so shocked as they've didn't expect it, you were happy that they were surprised , and of course you didn't forget to bring each one a present (its just from you ) and one present for all of them ( from you and your fellow staffs).

Everyone was just enjoying this party and ASTRO were chaotic as usual , after laughing and playing games, you called the boys for a small talk aside from the people. " Boys I know this is nothing comparing to your hard work all this time, put i hope you like these" as you showed them the presents , you gave each one their presents ( you knew what each one of them wanted) their eyes were shinning Brightly, all of them jumped on hugging you and thanking you, you got emotional and began crying, they got starled at your sudden action, "I'm sorry, i knew these are not even considered as presents, I can't do one proper thing for you and you don't-" , " shhh clam down (Y/N)-yah, whip your tears and look here" Said Eunwoo, you whipped them and looked at them, Eunwoo and Rocky placed ther hands on your shoulders " You've done alot for us, if it weren't for you, we wouldn't be this comfortable and happy until now" said Eunwoo, " you organize everything for us help us even in our dorm though, as our manger you're not asked to do that" continued Sanha , " you know that we barely eat at home and sometimes we miss our homemade food, despite that you're busy but you still come and make us a delicious meals" said Moonbin, " if we're sick you just don't care about anyone and cancel everything and take care of us until we get better" said MJ, " you're so considerate and sweet, you're like our sister before being our manger and the most important of all your our cute little Aroha" Ended Rocky. You're eyes were filled with tears again and they were just giggling and patting your back and head asking you to stop crying. They looked at each other and nodded and asked you to wait here and they went up on stage, " Everyone~! We would like to thank all of you and especially our Manger (Y/N) for preparing this amazing anniversary celebration" Said Jinjin, " And now we will sing this special Song for all of Our AROHA Staffs" said MJ, " we know you already litened to it but this is special stage for our Staff rohas who helped us in our journey" said Rocky..

"Aroha, you're my One & Only Love, and this song is for you, as you Always make me shine" said all of them as they started singing [ One N Only ]

The End

[edorazzi]

Well, here we are again! Twitter said yes to a review post for a Miraculous magazine that suddenly showed up in my local area. ‘Tis the season after all, and by that I mean someone bought it for me as a joke birthday gift and I was way too happy about that.

I’ve done previous reviews of the Miraculous Christmas calendar, Easter egg set, superhero fashion dolls and action figures, so let’s dive into the unknown world of merchandising yet again!

(As always, if you enjoy my posts, please consider checking out my Twitter page or supporting me on Patreon for lots of bonus content!)

4 FREE GIFTS! PACKED WITH ACTIVITIES! MEET THE KWAMIS! PRANKS & LOLS! CUT-OUT MEMES! FANGIRL ALERT! NAIL ART! 100% OFFICIAL! I’m overwhelmed! It feels like I’m having a seizure just from the packaging!!! 

I should preface this by saying I haven’t bought a magazine like this in years. Possibly ever. I read things like the Beano, Animals & You and the odd Disney Princess zine when I was a kid but I have no idea what to expect from a free-gift-packed kiddie magazine in 2019. If the outside is anything to go by we’re in for a wild ride.

I’m noticing that it says “Miraculous #20″ on the back. Does this mean I’ve missed 19 previous issues? I’m genuinely a little upset by that. My local area is a complete dry zone for Miraculous so I haven’t had the chance to pick these up.

First step: let’s separate everything out and get a look at these freeeee giftssss. Except they aren’t free, because this magazine was like £3.99. This does seem to be the current trend - it’s kinda rare to see any kids’ zines without the excess packaging crammed with ‘free’ stuff. Is it really too expensive to just produce the magazine? Probably, in this economy.

Chat Noir is revealed on the cover! He was on the back of the plastic jacket, but it’s still nice to see the kids as a front-cover duo. Apparently we’re going to learn to draw Pollen, too, which sounds fun. I’m actually liking the look of the gifts as well, but we’ll get into those in a minute.

This hairbrush............. is adorable. Oh my god. It’s pretty cheap and flimsy but it functions the way it’s supposed to, and the Ladybug design has been taken into account in a better way than “it’s red/black, that counts” (lest we forget the UTTER BULLSHIT of the Christmas calendar, and YES I’m still mad about that). I don’t know how well I expect the outer sticker to last, but if it can take a bit of wear and tear this would be an adorable little travel brush. Nicely done, lads!

These nail stickers? Also adorable. They remind me of the kiddie makeup sets I had when I was little, back in the early 00s when plastic stick-on nails and decals were all the rage. Are they still a thing? That’s nice to know.

There are 13 designs (that I can count) - a Queen Bee mask, Chat Noir pawprint cake, macaron, cupcake, heart-print cookie, Ladybug stud, flower, lightning bolt, love heart, Marinette heart, bee, fox tail and star. The majority are directly related to the show and that makes them feel special. No Carapace though? :(

I’ve put a little Marinette heart on my furthest finger. At the time of typing this up (about a day later) it’s still firmly in place. I haven’t really knocked it around, granted, but it’s not flimsy enough to fall off after five minutes either. It’s also really cute to look at. Guess I’m still a decal-loving 2004 girl at heart......

These stickers though!!! Wow! They’re those holographic and slightly-puffy kind and they feel like pretty good quality, and the designs are so cute! I can’t fault these, they’re absolutely adorable. I immediately want to stick them everywhere.

So I’ve stuck them everywhere. I’m especially proud of the light switch pun. My room looks GREAT.

I saved these “mystery stickers” for last because I’m weak for the thrill of mystery bags, and there wasn’t anything on the packaging to indicate what kind of designs to expect. And OH!!!! OH, IT’S MY BOY!!!! Look at him!!!! 

I made jokes with the Christmas calendar about all the Chat Noir items being stolen ahead of time, but that’s definitely NOT the case with this magazine. I have been SPOILED with the presence of my cat son.

These stickers are similar to the sticker sheet (and the Chillin’ Out design is reprinted), but they’re puffier and non-holographic. I’m deeply allured by the “decorate your phone or tablet” suggestion on the packet, but I’m going to see how the previous stickers withstand the wear-and-tear of my laptop lid before adding any more. If I damage these beautiful Adrien stickers I’ll be devastated.

Those are our free gifts! They’re actually very fun and cute, I’m really happy with them! I guess now it’s time to get into the magazine itself...........

I genuinely almost forgot the magazine was the main part of this package. I figured I was done, but we’ve barely even started! Here’s a splash page of the kwami. Kwami with a capital K? Kwamis? I still feel like it should be singular-lower-case-k-kwami. I’ve never been happy about this “miraculouses” business either.

But is that--

It IS!!!! It’s Nino!!! 

I guess this is the new flavour of Miraculous tie-ins. Now they’ve broadened out to a full team we’re seeing a lot more of Adrien alongside the girls, and Nino is the elusive hero who shows up once in a blue moon. At least this time his name isn’t in the title of the gotdam show.......

Anyway, I can see I’m supposed to draw my “fave Kwami”. Better get to it.

Felix just wants a break. Just one break. But not in this magazine.

Speaking of seeing more of Adrien (and, tragically, less of Nino), this is the kind of splash page I want to see! Both kids are here! The banner themed with Marinette’s signature flowers is a nice touch too; that’s associated with her arts ‘n’ crafts in the show already and it makes sense to apply it to the creative portion of this magazine too.

I LOVE the promotion of Chat Noir nails as something the little girls buying this magazine will definitely want to try. I’d expect them to do Marinette vs Ladybug nails, but instead we get a boyish option! Hell yeah!

I’m a little confused by the Queen Bee masks apparently going on the Chat Noir nails though. I guess they’re friends? Is this secret AdriChlo confirmation? Watch out, Marinette, Kagami’s not the one to be worried about.

SURE WOULD BE NICE TO HAVE SOME TURTLE STICKERS FOR AN ALL-BOYS THEME BUT I GUESS NOT HUH

Next up is a short merch catalogue (why would you put the big bold arrow pointing right to the underoos.....). Would those Chat Noir socks come in my size? Asking for me.

Then there’s......... this page. FANGIRL ALERT. God. It’s like the Ladyblog, if only the Ladyblog ever gave a heck about reporting what Chat Noir’s up to.

THE SPELL WAS BROKEN AND THE FANDOM IMPLODED WITH JOY.

I really have to wonder what age range this is meant for. Do kids know what a “fandom” is? Do little girls consider themselves “fangirls”? I guess most kids have enough internet access to figure it out these days (all the hashtags and LOLs and memes speak volumes), but I can’t imagine being young enough to fit the target range of this magazine while also knowing these terms. I dunno.

(Also, the definition of ‘implosion’ is ‘an instance of something collapsing violently inwards’, so I’m not sure that’s the word they’re looking for. Unless the return to the status quo in Dark Cupid and the continuing stagnation of the love square was enough to make people quit in frustration? Probably.)

I’m filling it in, of course. Because I must.

I gave up on the pre-approved ratings system pretty much right away, but I think this is an accurate rating of my LadyNoir opinions. 

I might be kinda cynical about it here, but I am actually pretty fond of how this magazine sells Ladybug and Chat Noir as a couple. The show’s portraying it as very onesided lately, with Chat pining over Ladybug who has absolutely no interest in him (Glaciator was a TERRIBLE episode and I’m still hurting from it), but reading this zine I’d guess they were already dating. It’s cheesy, but in a nice way.

I have to laugh at “the most amazing thing about this super duo is that they always look out for and protect each other” though. Chat’s usually pretty focused on LB, sure, but there are endless instances of LB using Chat as cannon fodder and just generally abandoning him to get mauled by akuma while she carries out her personal private plan to save the day. Maybe we’re just focusing on the better-written episodes, huh?

Moving ahead. I’ve been dreading this page since reading “Plaggs Pranks & LOLs” on the back of the packaging. I feel hatred in my very bones just looking at it.

I like that there’s ONE instance of the term “ladybird” in the joke column. This is a UK-based magazine and that IS the word we tend to use over here - “ladybug” is an Americanism - but it’s like they’re worried kids could have got to the middle of this magazine about a superhero named Ladybug and then not understand the bug jokes. Maybe whoever was writing this page slipped up?

OH NOOOOO. MARINETTE, NOOOOOOOOOO.

THIS IS WHY FELIX GOT RID OF YOU, PLAGG. THESE ARE ADRIEN’S PROBLEMS NOW.

(mmm whatcha saaaaay)

I mean........... YEAH, I guess, but we absolutely did see Plagg destroy Felix with an entire shelf of heavy books. I guess he’s nicer with Adrien. It’s all fun and games until someone has a nervous breakdown in the library.

I do love the concept of Tikki getting glitter-bombed by Plagg through the mail. She just curiously opens up the little letter which got slipped into Marinette’s purse, and-- WOOSH. One entire wall of Mari’s room is glittery except for a little Tikki-shaped silhouette. 

Next up is a two-page comic which is absolutely adorable! Look at those little chibis! The warm and soft colour palette! This is nicer than most of the official Miraculous comic book art I’ve seen, I hope they keep giving this artist work.

Nino’s here too (and he looks great!), and I like the touch of Marinette and Adrien playing as each other’s superhero characters. Adrien even wins the match, though I guess there’s something to be said about Ladybug beating Chat Noir (again)...... 

It does raise the question yet again of where this tie-in merchandise is coming from! They’ve had action figures, a movie, music video features, now an arcade game... Who’s getting the royalties here? Who’s profiting? Is this how Fu can afford to buy all those rare ingredients for the magic potions?

Over the page we have an activity to Design your Secret Lair! Right away I love the Marinette theme of the page, the soft pink and flowers, and the drawing space looking like a page in a binder with marker tabs and everything.

I have to design my secret lair, of course: 

What do you think? I’m very creative. I’ll need an adult to send in the drawing of my hideout but I think I’ve really got a shot at those unicorn headphones.

Now we’re on to puzzles and character pages. I don’t know what ol’ Gabe is doing trying to meet a 13 year old girl in the dead of night without telling anyone, you’d think if he’s got that much free time on his hands he could be spending it with his son.

I don’t know how those points in Ladybug’s power profile are awarded or what they mean, but you can tell this is a fan magazine. Official sources would have put her at a 10.

Standard House of Villains page! Most of these were good episodes but I’m deeply offended Riposte isn’t on here. Maybe her motives weren’t dramatic and cartoonish enough to be up in the ranks with Glaciator and Gorizilla?

“Cat Noir’s dad is also the evil Hawk Moth”, huh? I mean that’s not WRONG, but is it really something to put in his power profile when Adrien doesn’t even know yet??? Feels like we’re kinda jumping the gun on the poor boy. What if he picks up this magazine?

Apparently he’s one point weaker than Ladybug (seriously???), two points faster, equally as agile, one point less skilled and two points less cool. Despite all those lesses he still comes out at an equal 9, which is a relief! These kids are a team, putting either of them below the other would have been a big no.

I did the colouring page too, naturally. Je suis un artiste.

Now we’ve got a page fresh from the Ladyblog, a Miraculous quiz! Not a lot of excitement, but it’s nice to see Alya getting her own section.

I like that the qualifications of “you could be Ladybug herself!” are knowing what city Marinette lives in and what school she goes to. Well done, Mari! You’re doing your best!!!

TEACHER I AM SO HUNGRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I gotta say, I’m not so sure about decorating donuts with fondant. I’ve never tried it so I could be wrong, but it feels like rolled icing instead of frosting(?) would be too heavy for an entire donut. The texture is totally different.

I mean I guess if you’re going to load your kids up on sugar you might as well go all the way. They’re going to look like they’ve eaten something horrible with all that black fondant, but they’ll have fun. Adrien would love these.

WHERE’S NINO. THIS IS JUST UNFAIR. You’ll have four out of five heroes, then a double of Marinette and Tikki? Maybe this just goes to show how little memorable dialogue Carapace has.

Though if “Spots On!” is Marinette’s dialogue and not Ladybug’s, why are the other transformation phrases attributed to Rena Rouge and Queen Bee instead of Alya and Chloé? Surely they could have picked something better for Marinette to justify having her on this list twice instead of Nino.

The next page brings us one of those flowchart quizzes! And ouch, yet again the absence of the other heroes is obvious. I can understand not including Chloé here since she’s technically not a “friendly” character yet, but no Nino? Alya and Marinette are close friends, but Adrien doesn’t really hang out with them without Nino around. Having the three of them together just seems strange.

I do like the little fashion page! They’re all cute and affordable and easy to find on the high street here. I’d love to see how other issues of this magazine are structured; is there a different fashion spot every time? Styles to channel each individual hero would be adorable.

Moving on to a tutorial for a Ladybug notebook! I would have made this, but I didn’t have the time nor a notebook to stick it to.

Between this and the donuts, it seems weird that these designs are based on, like... an actual beetle, eyes and antennae and all. Shouldn’t it be Ladybug’s symbol? These come across more like “fun animals” arts ‘n’ crafts instead of themed after Miraculous specifically. I think if I made this (or decorated the donuts) I’d miss out the head and match the spot pattern to Ladybug’s symbol. 

The hidden message design is adorable though. I can see this being a craft kids are super proud of.

Another activity page! I didn’t have a go at these but they’re pretty standard. It’s cute that the coded message designs are the same as the stickers and nail decals!

Also, apparently Ladybug’s ‘secret’ is “LB mask + heart + CN mask”, which was (somehow) stolen by Volpina. Is that the secret Hawk Moth was talking about earlier in the magazine? Is he blackmailing Ladybug with revealing she has a crush on Chat Noir? How did Volpina ‘steal’ this secret? Is LadyNoir finally reciprocated???? THIS IS A WHOLE EPISODE IN ITSELF, I NEED ANSWERS--

Next page we have an ad for another girly magazine (Quizzes! LOLs! Celebs! Cringes! Puzzles!). I think I’ll pass, no matter how appealing that giant microphone pen is. 

And a “Miraculous Identity” quiz! Tikki’s apparently super fickle with her wielders, three seasons of relentlessly praising Marinette and now she’s telling us we’re the Chosen Ones. You can’t fool me with those big ol’ eyes.

My inner superhero is Marvellous Fox, by the way. Though yet again I’m noticing we don’t have turtle options...................

And on the back cover... the memes. Oh, sweet lord, the memes. They’re hashtag-SoRelatable! And I can cut them out to keep! Oh boy!!!

Is this what kids do when they have limited internet access? Cut fresh memes out of magazines and carry them around? I need to know.

That’s a very sinister Ladybug at the bottom of the page though. What’s-- What’s she going to do to me if I don’t cut out and keep these memes. Ladybug what are you going to do if I d--

Well that brings us to the end of the magazine! And yet again I’m surprised by how much time it takes to just put a bunch of photos together and write about them.

This is a neat little magazine all in all! The ‘free gifts’ are pretty nice, there’s a fair amount of content and the whole thing is pretty cute for young fans of the show. I could see myself buying this again - if it ever shows up on shelves, Miraculous is so scarce around here that I fully expect it to disappear again after this one issue - just for the free junk, but it would be interesting to see how they’d structure different issues too!

I notice we never did get that promised tutorial on how to draw Pollen; the one advertised on the cover. Was the “draw your favourite Kwami” activity supposed to cover that? I’m not sure that really counts.

If you got this far, thanks for joining me on this Miraculous journey! We’ll meet again whenever I get another piece of weird ML merch to cover. Bien joué!

[flibbertigiblet]

Episode 1: FORESHADOWING GALORE

Was it a perfect episode? No. The pacing is still a bit iffy, the dialogue bland, and important scenes felt rushed/undeveloped. But did it give me hope and/or satisfaction? Yes. Light on action, but heavy on foreshadowing, this episode lays the groundwork for three of our favorite theories – Dark!Dany, Political!Jon, and Jonsa.

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I never thought that we would get all our theories openly confirmed in the first episode. The showrunners are giving us the last moments of calm before the storm, and it makes sense that they allow the viewers to enjoy Jon’s homecoming and the various reunions between several beloved characters before they hit us with the major twists those theories entail. What they do instead is pepper the episode with strong hints of these outcomes. In this post, I’ll be highlighting the plot points and dialogue that support these theories, rather than going through the premiere scene by scene.

Let’s jump right into it. This is a long one.

Arrival at Winterfell

After a heartfelt hug with Bran (and thank the gods that we finally get a semblance of humanity from the Three-Eyed Raven in this), Jon turns to Sansa, who had been watching their reunion with a small but fond smile on her face. As Jon rears up to embrace his “sister”, the camera makes sure to cut away from them to focus on Daenerys and Jorah, watching them from a distance. Bran is kept in frame, observing their reactions. Sansa too, turns her gaze on the newcomers, even as she wraps her arms around Jon.

I will admit to being disappointed that the reunion hug between Jon and Sansa was much briefer and less intense than what we got in the HBO trailer, but in retrospect, that fact makes me go “hmm”. After all, they chose that particular sequence to be the first and only snippet from S8 to show in that trailer, despite the episode’s truncated version of the hug (or any other scene from the season, really) being a possible option. A photo of this scene shot from yet another angle from a Spanish(?) publication was circulating the internet only days ago. D&D want us to pay special attention to the relationship between Jon and Sansa.

Podrick Dany certainly is.

Dany and Sansa eye each other from across the courtyard, before the former approaches the Starks. As Lyanna Mormont and Lord Royce stare at her with suspicion, Jon makes introductions.

“My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell.”

“Thank you for inviting us into your home, Lady Stark,” Daenerys says with a fixed smile. “The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you.” (You know, one way of interpreting this line was that it was Jon who told Dany that Sansa is beautiful. Because, well. She is.)

Sansa is not impressed by the transparent attempt at flattery. She looks Dany up and down and leans back slightly in thinly-veiled disdain, but her words and voice are perfectly civil. “Winterfell is yours, your Grace.” Take note: neither she nor anyone else in the courtyard bends the knee to their would-be queen.

Daenerys doesn’t buy Sansa’s act for a second, but Bran doesn’t have time for this catfight and tells everyone what’s what. The Wall has fallen, and the Army of the Dead (+ dragon) are marching to Winterfell. That sobers them up quickly.

Meeting the Lords

Everyone is gathered in the Great Hall. Pay attention to the framing. At the head table, Sansa has been relegated to Jon’s right, where Davos, as the Hand of the King, used to sit. Daenerys has taken up Sansa’s former seat to his left, where the Lady of Winterfell typically sits. In this first shot, however, Dany is standing by the fireplace, leaving a visual and metaphorical gap between the Northern pair and Team Dany, represented by Tyrion, who is seated at the far end of the table.

As acting leader of Winterfell, Sansa is the one running the meeting. She establishes the fact that she has called on all the banners to retreat to Winterfell, and asks for an update from Lord Umber, last of that once-mighty House. A young boy no older than Bran was in season 1 pops his head out from behind one of the nameless Lords. He is small, and cute, and has been singled out by the script, so clearly he is doomed.

He addresses first Sansa - “We need more horses and wagons, my Lady,” – then Jon – “and my Lord,” – who flashes him a quick smile – “and my Queen.” – and only then Daenerys, who does not love being third on this list. “Sorry,” apologizes awkwardly. His business is sorted out, and he is sent off.

Jon instructs Maester Wolkan to send ravens to the Night’s Watch to summon them to Winterfell. “At once, Your Grace,” says the man, out of habit, probably, but it’s all the excuse Lyanna Mormont needs to stand up to sass Jon for renouncing his crown (mostly because D&D have designated her the improbable mouthpiece of the North and have not bothered to introduce us to any of the other lords).

Jon tries to make his case, but nobody is convinced, not even when Tyrion tags himself in. As he tries to sway the Northern lords, the camera cuts to the other three – Jon in between the two women, Stark and Targaryen, black and white. They really couldn’t be more obvious about the symbolism here, but in case you missed it, the showrunners give us more evidence that we’re not about to get The Hair Braiding That Was Promised.

Sansa is facing the lords, addressing Tyrion, but is clearly speaking to Daenerys when she asks just how Winterfell is supposed to feed Team Dany’s massive armies and the dragons. Like the responsible leader that she is – take notes, kiddos – Sansa had spent the past few months stockpiling supplies to help her people through winter. Was the North expected to support these newcomers too? “What do dragons eat, anyway?”

“Whatever they want,” says Dany.

The two women look at each other with no further pretense at friendliness. Battle lines have been drawn.

(Jon sits there, pretending not to notice.)

A Proposed Proposal

Davos, Varys and Tyrion are discussing how to salvage the alliance between their respective sides. Davos tells the others that Northerners do not trust easily, that this trust needs to be earned. But he is hopeful that it can happen. “On the off chance that we survive the Night King, what if the Seven Kingdoms, for once in their whole shit history, were ruled by a just woman and an honorable man?”

He is talking about a possible marriage between Jon and Dany, but at this point the audience knows the truth of their relationship, and by the end of the episode – spoiler – Jon does too. Whether or not the GA realizes it yet, this makes the conversation equally applicable to the Jonsa side of the triangle.

Plus, le gasp! A Stark-Targaryen marriage? How dreadfully romantic.*

*Okay, I am actually strongly anti-Rhaegar, but the show plays them as some kind of grand romantic pairing so I will try to contain my antipathy for the purposes of this review.

A Darker Turn

Down at the courtyard, Daenerys is feeling somewhat put upon.

“Your sister doesn’t like me.”

Jon tries to mollify her. “She doesn’t know you. If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t like me either when we were growing up.”

“She doesn’t need to be my friend. But I am her queen. If she can’t respect me…”

WHAT, DANY? IF SANSA CAN’T RESPECT YOU, WHAT WILL YOU DO?

We’ve been saying it for a long while now, but guys. Dark!Dany is coming. While certain elements of the fandom persist in denying the obvious trajectory of her character arc, the foreboding undertone of this line is hard to ignore. What made this even more chilling was that she said this to Jon, a member of her family, who doesn’t yet know at this point in the episode what Dany’s extreme reaction tends to be for insubordination.

(Oh, but we know.)

When Sam learns of what Daenerys did to his father and brother, he could barely hold it together long enough to excuse himself from her presence before falling apart. Despite what Dany stans would have you think, this is a perfectly human and normal reaction to hearing such dreadful news. Also human and understandable? Mistrusting the kind of ruler who would execute a man for not bending the knee. Especially since Sam has personally seen a more humane sort of leadership before in Jon, who he later urges to take up his birthright as the true heir to the Iron Throne.

Other metas have discussed Dany’s approach to leadership and her increasingly draconian (an apt word, no?) attitude towards what she feels is her rightful position as Queen of the 7K. That she can and will take what is hers. A sense of entitlement not dissimilar to that which she attributed to her dragons earlier in that public display which did not endear her to her Northern subjects…

Side note: We’ve seen the indiscriminate destruction that an unchecked dragon can reap before when one of them – then only half-grown – killed the young daughter of a goatherd in Meereen. We even received a handy reminder of this straight from the mouth of Dany’s staunchest supporter and ally only in the episode before this one: “Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children…letting them roam free around the city was a problem.” – Jorah Mormont, S07E07.

And because it hasn’t been hammered into our heads enough, we are reminded of this again later on, when her Dothraki riders list exactly how much her dragons had consumed just that same day (“only eighteen goats and eleven sheep”, which apparently means “the dragons are barely eating”). This is followed by a powerful shot of said dragons surrounded by the charred bones of the livestock that could have fed dozens of people.

The same people who cowered as the dragons flew over Mole’s Town, and whose fear she appeared to relish.

Foreshadowing much?

That Dragon Flying Scene

Oh boy. I’ll be honest. I wasn’t excited to see this one at all. In the end it was both more and less awful than I imagined it would be. The dragon riding scene is bound to be controversial. Thrilling to some, pandering of the worst kind to others. To me, it smacks of fanservice, but let’s give the show the benefit of the doubt and try to parse its storytelling purpose in the greater scheme of things.

Despite Daenerys’ unsubtle threat towards Sansa in the previous scene – which Jon was conveniently prevented from addressing due to the interruption of the Dothraki – and the sight of Drogon and Rhaegal apparently sulking whilst surrounded by the remains of the food they are “barely eating”, the showrunners made the odd decision to play this scene with a note of levity.

Out of nowhere, Dany oh-so-casually encourages her lover to try riding her dragon, a foolhardy decision based on what, exactly? The one time Jon had a moment with one of her “gorgeous beast(s)”? Dany teases him about his initial reluctance, and laughs at his ungraceful attempts to hang on as the two dragons freewheel over the snow-covered lands of the North before landing in front of a beautiful waterfall for a “romantic” moment.

In dialogue calling back to Jon and Ygritte’s famous cave scene (listen, are D&D just going to troll us by recycling  all of Jon’s best hits?):

“We could stay a thousand years, says Daenerys, looking back at Jon. “No one would find us.”

“We’d be pretty old,” says Jon with uncharacteristic humor.

I believe Jon’s lightheartedness stems as much from his being home with his family at long last as the thrill of dragonriding with a pretty girl by his side. The two flirt using cheesy lines straight out of bad fanfiction before sharing a kiss which I suppose will please the stans.

Not me, though. Romantic music playing in the background or not, like in boatbang, the supposed passion of the moment is interrupted by a third party which makes the whole thing awkward. The final shot of Jon’s eyes widening as he sees Rhaegal staring directly at him as he kisses the Dragon Queen made me snort, but it is unclear whether it was played for a laugh, is meant to underline the awkwardness of this romance, or be an ominous portent of the revelations to come.

And Now For the Good Stuff

That terrible unnecessary Disneyfied brightly lit, panoramic, even mildly comedic sequence contrasted sharply with the scene between Jon and Sansa only minutes later. We are treated to a Jonsa staple: a warm, candlelit scene full of tension, fluttering eyelashes, and heaving bosoms. This time, the air is shimmering with a new emotion – jealousy.

The two start off by discussing a message from Lord Glover, who “wishes (them) good fortune but he’s staying in Deepwood Motte with his men.” This immediately sparks an argument between them about Jon having bent the knee. They’ve had variations of this fight before, and to be honest, it’s a little tired. While I fully understand Sansa’s reservations about the presence of Dany and her armies in the North in terms of logistics, I tend to be more sympathetic to Jon’s insistence that the discussion on Northern independence needs to take a back seat for the moment given the gravity of the threats they are facing. But Sansa clings stubbornly to this old argument, and she (rather unfairly) lays the blame for Lord Glover’s desertion at Jon’s feet (let’s blame who is really at fault here, Sansa – the disloyal lord himself).

But of course, that’s not really what they’re fighting about.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to abandon your crown,” she says, voice shaking with anger as she turns her back on Jon.

Jon, frustrated, moves several steps closer. “I never wanted a crown. All I wanted was to protect the North. I brought two armies home with me, two dragons.”

Sansa spins around. “And a Targaryen queen?” she spits out.

Ah, and here we come to what appears to be the true cause of her wrath. Jon reminds Sansa that without Daenerys (and her martial strength), they don’t stand a chance against the Army of the Dead. Sansa is silent. She cannot argue the need for the armies and the dragons, but she takes particular exception to the woman who leads them. Why, Sansa? TELL US WHY.

It’s in their eyes as much as their words.

Jon heaves a deep sigh, closes his eyes. “Do you have any faith in me at all?” (Y’all, this line just about broke my heart cause he just wants her to love trust him.)

Sansa’s eyes are soft and slightly glassy. “You know I do.”

Jon takes another step or two towards Sansa, never breaking their gaze. “She’ll be a good queen. For all of us.” His eyes move away briefly. “She’s not her father.”

Sansa looks down, gathering herself with a deep breath. “No, she’s much prettier.”

Jon gives a pained smile of acknowledgment. It is his turn to avoid her stare.

“Did you bend the knee to save the North?” Sansa asks him, her eyes unfocused. “Or because you love her?”

Jon glances up at Sansa, but doesn’t respond.

END SCENE.

(Let’s give a standing ovation to Sophie and Kit for acting the hell out of this scene. I want a hundred gifs of this, people. Please get on it.)

The subtext is rich, rich, rich, my Jonsas. The dream is still alive.

One Last Thought - The Importance of Sansa Stark

Nothing made me happier than seeing our Queen in the North Lady of Winterfell given all the credit and respect that is her due after seasons of anti bullshit. See:

The people’s deference to her position and the role that she plays in the North

Tyrion’s acknowledgment of her survival skills - “Many underestimated you. Most of them are dead now.”

Arya’s steadfast defense of her - “She’s the smartest person I ever met.” - when Jon (Jon???) himself was expressing frustration towards her (check out @athimbleful 's recent ask for an explanation for Jon’s behavior in this scene)

Even Dany’s behaviour towards Sansa (first with that cringey introduction), and later when she singles her out for not “respecting” her, despite the fact that none of the Northern lords were showing her any warmth is an indication of her awareness of Sansa’s alpha status, which is right and just and exactly as it should be.

As recent promo materials, cast interviews, etc. seem be strongly pro-Sansa, I am reasonably optimistic that this all bodes well for our girl. For that alone, I will breathe a little easier...

...at least for one more week.

[thesevenseraphs]

Bungie Weekly Update - 10/31/19

This week at Bungie, we’re hosting a celebration.

Festival of the Lost has been unleashed on the Tower. Cobwebs are everywhere, black cats are on the prowl, and every vendor has some candy for you to enjoy. Eva Levante went all-out this year on decorations and brought some new masks for you to earn. While candies and treats are readily available, you also have the BrayTech Werewolf to earn, packing the multikill clip punch. The Tower isn’t the only place that’s a bit spookier. There’s been an uprising on the Moon, and Eris is calling on you to challenge the Hive in the Altars of Sorrow and the Pit of Heresy.

Xenophage made its grand entrance, bug and all. We’ve seen Guardians cracking the puzzle and claiming their Exotic in real time, but it isn’t the only new weapon for you to add to your arsenal. We’ve got some Hive-infused weapons that not only look mean, but back it up with some serious firepower.

If you’re wanting to take on opposing Guardians with a bit more lethality, Momentum Control has arrived. Fast respawns, quicker kills, and ability regeneration tied to the defeat of your opponents. Get out there and make Shaxx proud.

So, now that we’ve covered everything that went live on Tuesday, let’s see what else is on the calendar: A charity, a costume contest, a hotfix, a bounty, and more are inbound.

TRICK OR TREAT!

Even with everything going on, we can take a moment to appreciate the little things in life. A bit of humor in the face of fear. Eva Levante is hosting the Festival of the Lost this year, and we have another opportunity for players to earn the Levante Prize. Throw on a mask, embrace your inner darkness, and join us in celebrating Festival of the Lost 2019.

Want to participate? Here’s how:

Create a costume for your Guardian and strike a pose in the perfect setting.

Snap a screenshot in any Destiny 2 destination or activity.

Play with shaders and armor combinations for the spookiest outcomes.

Group participation is encouraged!

Submit your image to the Community Creations page on Bungie.net.

We’ll retweet our favorites from @Bungie and grant winners the Levante Prize.

If you do win, make sure you give us Bungie.net profile links so we can deliver the emblems!

While we’re all for fun and games, we’d love for you to try and scare us while you’re at it. Bonus points to those who do.

PINNACLE HOTFIX INBOUND

Destiny 2 Hotfix 2.6.1.1 is tentatively planned for Thursday, November 7. It contains some quality-of-life fixes for the sandbox and Season Pass weapon acquisition. One of the more major changes deals with your pursuit of pinnacle Power. While we’ll be providing a patch note preview below, we have some words from the team on our initial goals for pinnacle Power and why we’re making some adjustments.

Dev Team: When we designed the pinnacle band of Power for Season 8, our intent was to provide an aspirational progression that reflects participation in some of the more difficult and time-limited content of Destiny 2. This was meant to be a slower progression than the powerful reward band, but one that wasn’t a gateway to accessing content.

We’re not hitting our goals for the availability of rewards in all slots for the pinnacle-level rewards. You may have experienced getting duplicate Energy weapon drops from these sources, which is compounded by the need to get a drop in all slots in order to gain enough Power to raise your character’s overall Power by 1. To mitigate this, we have increased the Power granted by pinnacle rewards to +2 instead of +1.

Once this change goes live, only four slots will be needed to increase your character’s average Power, at which point your powerful rewards will allow those slots that you might have missed to catch up. Our goal is that the pinnacle band remains a reward for tackling the more prestigious challenges, but takes some of the sting away from receiving multiple drops in the same slot. We appreciate all the feedback that we’ve received on this, we and hope to hear more from you on how this band of progression feels with the new change.

PLEASE NOTE: As this change is currently planned for next Thursday, players should wait to earn their pinnacle rewards until this hotfix is available so they can take advantage of the +2 change.

Alongside the changes to pinnacle rewards, we’re also adding the Season Pass weapons (Pluperfect and Temporal Clause) as possible rewards from the Vex Offensive activity. While players may currently unlock the chance for these weapons to drop with random rolls from the Crucible, Gambit, and strikes, we wanted to add them to another activity to give players more agency in earning random rolls.

Additionally, we’ve developed a fix for ashes to assets to prevent Telesto from being the absolute best-o, where players could earn their Supers far more quickly than intended.

Stay tuned to @BungieHelp for updates on the exact time and date of this hotfix.

IRON FRIGHT

Amid all this excitement, Lord Saladin wanted to get in on the action. The Iron Banner returns next week, bringing Power-enabled combat back to the Crucible. With a handful of bounties in tow, you’ll have opportunities to earn the Iron Will armor set, along with some pinnacle-tier rewards.

Iron Banner Control

Starts: 9 AM Pacific on November 5

Ends: 9 AM Pacific on November 12

Note: You may be thinking “Wait, 9 AM? What’s going on here?” – Day Light Savings ends this weekend for us in the states. I know, it’s confusing. I don’t really know why it happens either. You can find more information in the Player Support Report later in this very article.

Earlier this week, Destiny 2 Update 2.6.1 introduced changes to Heavy ammo spawning in the Crucible. The following change will also be present within the Iron Banner:

Heavy ammo initial spawn changed to 60 seconds (was 45 seconds)

Heavy ammo additional spawning changed to every 120 seconds (was every 60 seconds)

Now, to make sure we say it again, we are currently planning a hotfix that will increase pinnacle reward Power gains next Thursday. We highly recommend that players wait to redeem any Iron Banner bounties which reward pinnacle gear until the hotfix has been applied.

We also fixed an issue in 2.6.1 that was causing the Iron Banner bounties to reset daily. Players will have four bounties to complete throughout the week.

REGICIDE

If you follow your community news, you know that Gothalion is on the move to a new streaming platform. To ensure a nice, warm welcome in his new home on Mixer, we’re inviting the internet to hunt him down in the Crucible. We’ve placed a Bungie Bounty on his head! It seemed like the neighborly thing to do…

Bungie Bounty—King Gothalion

Saturday, November 2, 10 AM–Noon Pacific

Momentum Control on PC

www.mixer.com/kinggothalion

Festival of the Lost has introduced a new competitive mode in the Crucible. If you play on PC, that’s your hunting ground. The rules are simple: Match with Gothalion, as either a teammate or an opponent, and win. The game must be played on his stream during the two hours allotted. To the victors go the new Bungie Bounty emblem.

This is a housewarming party and you’re all invited to attend. Bring snacks and ammunition. This is one of those rare occasions in which stream sniping is encouraged!

CHARITABLE ENDEAVORS

This week was also host to the inaugural Game2Give charity event, supporting the Bungie Foundation’s iPads for Kids program and Children’s Miracle Network Hospitals. We’ve been blown away by the community involvement, as we’ve raised nearly 1 million in donations from Guardians around the world. The charity is still going, and this weekend continues the event with DCPLive, joined by special guest Pete Parsons!

As a reminder, we have a few incentives for each donation, 100% of which goes to the charity!

A $10 donation will earn you the NEW Mist Blossoms emblem.

A $50 donation will earn you both the Mist Blossoms emblem and our first-ever Charity Ghost, the Gilded Shell Exotic Ghost.

A $100 donation will earn you both items above and enter you to win an item from the Bungie Prize Pool.

We’re having many more players join in on this event through the weekend, so stay tuned to http://bung.ie/game2givestream for more information.

FORGE WARDENS

Two-Six-One was our most recent update. We’ve got a slew of changes that have gone live, but it seems that the Izanagi’s Burden quest line continues to evade some players. Destiny Player Support is on the case, bringing the most up-to-date information on what we’re tracking.

This is their report:

Izanagi’s Burden

Earlier this week, we deployed Destiny 2 Update 2.6.1 to players. With this update, we resolved an issue that was preventing a subset of players from completing the Mysterious Box quest to receive Izanagi’s Burden. Following this update, however, new issues have emerged which block progression further down the line for this quest. Specifically, Destiny Player Support is tracking the following two issues:

Players are not receiving progress when redeeming forge keys.

Players are not receiving progress for the Obsidian Crystal received from rare Black Armory bounties.

These issues are currently under investigation, to be addressed in a future update. Players who are encountering other issues with Black Armory forges or the Mysterious Box quest should report to the #Help forum.

Festival of the Lost

This week, Festival of the Lost returned in Destiny 2. Eva Levante has made sure that this Festival is open to all.

For anyone joining us in progress, let’s review the entry requirements outlined last week:

Brand-new players who go through the New Light experience must achieve at least 770 Power before Eva Levante will beckon them with her Festival of the Lost introductory quest. If these players are lower than 770 Power, they will not be able to interact with Eva Levante at all.

All veteran players, including those who were boosted to 750 Power at the launches of New Light and Shadowkeep, may head directly to Eva Levante to begin her quest.

Don’t forget to wear your favorite mask when completing activities around the solar system. Wearing a mask is required in order to earn candy and Chocolate Strange Coins.

Lastly, this year’s Festival of the Lost will conclude at the weekly reset on November 19. Players looking for more information on Festival of the Lost should see our official guide.

Destiny 2 Known Issues

In addition to issues with the Mysterious Box quest tracked above, Destiny Player Support is investigating the following issues to emerge in Destiny 2:

Players may intermittently experience delayed loot drops and/or pursuit progression. If a player is at activity completion and has not yet received their loot, they should make sure they do not return to Orbit early.

If a Cabal Scorpius Turret Daemon falls off the map in the Haunted Forest, it will not be killed and won’t respawn, halting progress. Players will have to wait out the remaining time to collect rewards, or return to Orbit and restart the activity.

Following the launch of Destiny 2 Update 2.6.1, we monitored elevated ANTEATER, MONKEY, and WEASEL errors. At this time, issues causing these elevated errors are expected to be resolved. For the latest information on the state of Destiny services, players should follow @BungieHelp on Twitter or monitor our support feed at help.bungie.net.

For the latest known issues to be confirmed by Destiny Player Support, players should visit our Known Issues thread in the #Help forum.

Daily and Weekly Reset Time Change

Beginning this Sunday, November 3, Daylight Savings Time in the United States will end. This means that Destiny 2’s reset time will change to 9 AM PST (1700 UTC) through March 2020.

For more information, please view our Destiny 2 Ritual Reset Guide.