#Internship and Live Project Opportunity

[skilliqcourse]

Supercharge your learning with SkillIQ Lite Program's Live Project Opportunities. Gain practical experience on real-world projects, enhancing your skills and boosting your resume. 

For more information:- https://www.skilliq.co.in/blog/skilliq-lite-program-through-internship-and-live-project/

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Sideline Chemistry

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Sports Media!Reader

Fandom: UConn’s women’s basketball

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: As a sports media intern, having to interview Paige for a class project and games should be fun right, but she takes it as an opportunity to shamelessly flirt each time.

As far as internships went, I had a pretty good one. Covering UConn sports for SNY as a student journalist meant I got to attend games, interview players, and build a solid portfolio. But it also came with one huge downside—my current assignment.

Interview Paige Bueckers.

For most people, that wouldn’t be a problem. Paige was an easy-going interview subject, known for her charm and humor. But I wasn’t most people. I was also in her friend group, which meant I had to deal with that version of Paige—the one who lived to tease me, held eye contact for way too long, and always found a way to make me flustered.

I’d prepared a professional approach. Keep it short, ask good questions, and don’t let Paige’s antics get to me.

Too bad she had other plans.

By the time I arrived at the UConn practice gym, most of the team had already left. A few players were still getting shots up, but Paige was leaning against the scorer’s table, scrolling through her phone.

She looked up when she heard my footsteps, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite journalist,” she said, slipping her phone into her hoodie pocket.

I sighed, setting up my camera. “Don’t start, Paige.”

“What? I’m just stating facts.” She stepped closer, resting a hand on her hip. “I feel honored. You could’ve interviewed anyone, but you chose me.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on adjusting my tripod. “I had to choose you. It’s an assignment.”

“Mm-hmm.” Paige rocked back on her heels, watching me work. “Admit it, though—you’re kinda excited.”

I huffed a laugh. “Yeah, totally. This is the highlight of my week.”

She smirked. “See? Told you.”

I shook my head, refusing to let her get under my skin. “Can you just stand over there so I can frame the shot?”

Paige moved to the designated spot, but instead of standing normally, she put her hands in her hoodie pockets and tilted her head, eyes locked on me.

“You’re staring,” I muttered, adjusting the camera settings.

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

My fingers fumbled over the buttons, nearly knocking the camera off its mount. Paige’s quiet laugh filled the space between us.

“Paige,” I warned.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just being supportive.”

I took a deep breath, trying to reset my brain. Focus. I hit record and lifted my notepad.

“Alright, let’s start. Name, year, position.”

Paige grinned. “You already know all that.”

“It’s for the recording, genius.”

She huffed dramatically but answered. “Paige Bueckers, red shirt senior, guard.”

I nodded. “So, this season’s been a big one for you. Coming back after injury, new team members, leading the team—what’s been the most rewarding part?”

Paige leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on her knees. “Honestly? Just being back on the court with my teammates. The rehab process was tough, but it made me appreciate the game even more. And, you know…” She flashed me a smirk. “It’s nice having my favorite reporter covering it all.”

I kept my expression neutral. “I’m sure you say that to every reporter.”

“Nah. Just you.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a smile. “Next question.”

Paige chuckled, clearly enjoying herself.

I went through a few more, mostly straightforward ones about team chemistry, goals for the season, and her personal growth as a player. And, to her credit, Paige answered them seriously—at least, until the end.

“Last question,” I said, scanning my notes. “What’s something people don’t know about you?”

Paige pretended to think. “Hmm. That I’m a great flirt.”

I blinked at her. “Paige.”

“What? It’s true.” She leaned back, giving me a slow once-over. “Want me to prove it?”

I pointed at the camera. “I will put this in the final cut.”

“Oh, please do,” she said, grinning. “Maybe it’ll finally get you to admit you like me.”

My breath caught in my throat. She wasn’t just playing around anymore—there was something different in the way she said it. Confident. Sure.

The air between us shifted.

I looked at her, really looked, and she met my gaze without hesitation. Her blue eyes held mine, steady and unyielding, a challenge wrapped in warmth.

I swallowed hard. “Paige—”

“Say the word,” she murmured, stepping closer. “And I’ll stop messing with you.”

The way she said it—low, teasing, but undeniably sincere—made my brain short-circuit.

A sharp whistle from the other end of the gym shattered the moment. I jolted back, turning off the camera.

“We’re done,” I said quickly.

Paige chuckled. “For now.”

I spent the next couple of days editing the interview, but no amount of technical work could erase the way Paige had looked at me. It didn’t help that our friend group noticed something was off when we met up for a post-practice dinner.

“You’re quiet,” Azzi noted, sipping her drink.

“Just tired,” I lied, stabbing at my fries.

Paige, sitting way too close beside me, leaned in. “Or you’re thinking about something. Or someone.”

I elbowed her. “Stop.”

Kk, sitting across from me, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Paige smirked. “She interviewed me. Got all flustered.”

I groaned. “I was not flustered.”

“Yeah?” Paige tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “So you didn’t almost drop your camera when I complimented you?”

Azzi grinned. “Oh, this is good.”

I shot Paige a glare. “You’re the worst.”

Paige just laughed, draping an arm over the back of my chair. “Nah. I’m your favorite.”

Kk snorted. “Yeah, this is definitely a thing.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Can we change the subject?”

“Fine,” Paige said, nudging my knee under the table. “For now.”

But as the night went on, she stayed close—casual touches, lingering looks, little comments only I could hear.

By the time I left, my heart was pounding.

A week later, my professor praised my interview, and my editor asked if I wanted to do a follow-up feature on Paige.

I hesitated.

Another interview meant more flirting. More of those looks. More of whatever was happening between us.

But before I could think too hard, Paige texted me.

Pb5🙄: So when’s our next interview? Gotta keep my favorite reporter happy.

I stared at my phone, exhaling.

Then, against my better judgment, I replied.

Me: Next home game. Try to behave this time.

Pb5🙄: No promises.

And somehow, I knew she meant it.

The next home game came so quickly, I wasn’t even mentally prepared.

So, when the first half of the game had been intense, UConn leading by only a few points against a tough opponent. Paige had been playing lights-out, and I knew she’d be the one pulled for the halftime interview.

I ran over my questions in my head, reminding myself to stay professional. But when Paige jogged over after the buzzer, sweat on her brow and a grin on her face, I knew I was in trouble.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, eyes glinting as she took her spot next to me.

I swallowed hard, forcing a neutral expression. Professional. Focus.

“Paige, great first half from you,” I started, keeping my voice steady. “What’s been working so well for you and the team so far?”

She wiped her forehead with her jersey before answering. “Honestly, just playing together, trusting each other. The energy is great out there.”

A solid, textbook answer. Good. Maybe she’d keep it normal.

I nodded, moving to my next question. “You’ve been on fire, leading the team with 15 points already. What’s your mindset going into the second half?”

Paige tilted her head slightly, her smile just a little too amused. “Stay aggressive. Keep making plays. And, you know—keep impressing my favorite reporter.”

My breath hitched.

I knew she was doing it just enough to be subtle—flirty, but professional enough to avoid getting in trouble. Still, my ears burned.

I cleared my throat. “Right. Well—uh—” I cursed myself for stumbling, but Paige’s smirk only grew.

She lifted an eyebrow, waiting. Daring me.

I quickly recovered. “What adjustments do you think the team needs to make in the second half?”

Paige took pity on me, answering normally. “Just tightening up on defense, getting stops, and taking smart shots. If we do that, we’ll close this game out strong.”

I nodded, feeling my pulse return to normal. “Thanks, Paige. Good luck in the second half.”

She leaned in slightly, voice lower but still audible on the mic. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

I barely held back a reaction as she jogged off, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

And then I heard the announcers laughing.

I turned my head slightly, realizing the game commentators had been watching the whole thing.

One of them chuckled, “I don’t know about you, but I think Paige might have a favorite reporter for real.”

The other commentator joined in. “She’s got the confidence on the court and off it. That was smooth.”

I wanted to die.

The interview wrapped, and the second half started, but my phone was already blowing up.

Fuzzy Fudd: No way you just let that happen on LIVE TV.

Hey Arnold: Paige Bueckers is NOT real.

Icey B: Not sweetheart on a broadcast—BE FR.

Kayla Wayla: girl. GIRL.

Me: you three shouldn’t even be on your phone rn, like listening to coach fudd about the two man pick n roll p and sar been doing all night.

I groaned, clicking send before stuffing my phone in my pocket. I am never living this down.

UConn won. Of course they did. Paige went on a scoring tear in the second half, finishing with 27 points, and the team dominated the fourth quarter.

By the time I finished post-game coverage, I was exhausted—and dreading seeing our friend group.

But Paige had other plans.

As I packed up my things, she walked over, still in her warmups, a towel draped over her shoulders. “Hey.”

I glanced up, wary. “Hey.”

She grinned. “So, since I was on my best behavior tonight—”

I shot her a look. “Best behavior?”

“Okay, decent behavior,” she corrected. “I think I deserve a reward.”

I sighed. “What do you want, Bueckers?”

Paige shifted closer, lowering her voice just enough that it sent a chill down my spine. “Go on a date with me.”

My brain short-circuited. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” she said smoothly, blue eyes locked onto mine. “A real date. No interviews, no sideline reports—just us.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

She smirked. “You thinking about saying no?”

I exhaled sharply, glaring at her. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” she shot back. “So? What do you say?”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched. “Fine. One date.”

Paige grinned like she’d just won the national championship.

“Oh, and don’t think you’re off the hook for movie night tomorrow,” she added, nudging my arm. “Kayla said we’re doing a marathon, and you’re not skipping.”

I groaned. “Paige—”

“See you there, sweetheart.” She winked before jogging off, leaving me stunned for the second time that night.

I should have known I wouldn’t make it through the night without getting clowned for the halftime interview.

Kayla’s apartment was packed when I walked in. UConn’s entire women’s basketball team, plus a few extras like me, Sam and Kariny had claimed every available couch, bean bag, and blanket-covered floor space. The lights were dimmed, popcorn bowls were already half-empty, and The Lion King was paused on the screen.

But the second Paige walked in after me, all hell broke loose.

“Ohhh, look who finally decided to show up,” Ice called out, her smirk way too satisfied.

Caroline flexed dramatically from her seat on the floor. “UConn’s power couple has arrived!”

Azzi, the only one who usually kept it low-key, still shot me a knowing look. “I hope you’re ready for tonight.”

Paige just grinned, completely unbothered. I, however, was already regretting this.

We barely made it to an open spot on the floor before Ice turned to the TV. “Hold up, before we start, let’s go over tonight’s highlights.”

She grabbed her phone, tapped something, and suddenly, my own voice echoed through the dorm.

“Paige, great first half from you…”

I froze.

No. No, no, NO.

“ICE, I SWEAR TO GOD—”

“Oh no, let it play,” Paige interrupted, smirking.

The entire room erupted when we got to the part where Paige smoothly said, “Keep impressing my favorite reporter.”

Aubrey wheezed. Kayla facepalmed. Ice was on the floor.

KK pointed dramatically. “AIN’T NO WAY.”

I wanted to die.

“Okay, fun’s over,” I rushed, reaching for Ice’s phone, but Paige just casually leaned back, enjoying the chaos she created.

Azzi chuckled. “Nah, because the announcers even backed her up—‘I think Paige might have a favorite reporter for real.’”

Allie snorted. “THEY WERE ROOTING FOR HER.”

I groaned, sinking further into my spot on the floor. “This is actual harassment.”

Kayla nudged me. “It’s what you get for flirting on live TV and expecting us to ignore it.”

“I WASN’T FLIRTING.”

The entire room answered in unison: “YOU WERE FLIRTING.”

Paige, the devil herself, finally took pity on me. “Alright, alright, let’s focus on something important—like how I carried us to victory tonight.”

That successfully derailed the conversation, as the team started debating plays from the game.

But Paige?

She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. “You were flirting, by the way.”

I turned my head sharply, ready to argue, only to be met with those damn blue eyes already on me.

Paige smirked. Held the eye contact.

I swallowed hard.

This girl was going to be the death of me.

Kayla clapped her hands. “Alright, we’re starting the movie! No more flirting in the corner.”

“We’re not—” I started, but KK cut me off.

“Shhh, let them have their little thing.”

I gave up. Completely.

Paige just threw an arm around my shoulders as the movie started, completely unbothered by the attention.

“Hope you like long movie nights,” she murmured.

I huffed, but I didn’t move away.

I was doomed. So, so doomed.

And, somehow, I didn’t mind one bit.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[pyeongstarr]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Nothing's Free — 박성화

˙⋆✮ pairing/s: dilf!seonghwa x fem!intern

˙⋆✮ in which: you are eternally grateful to your best friend's dad for giving you an internship, but just how grateful are you really?

˙⋆✮ genre/s: smut

˙⋆✮ warnings: unprotected sex, drunk sex, cnc, coercion, dubcon. choking, dacryphilia, creampie, spanking, hair pulling, bondage. power imbalance, reader got roofied (sorry). seonghwa is really persuasive and isn't taking 'no' for an answer. reader has always had a crush on hwa but you know...

˙⋆✮ word count: 4.5k

˙⋆✮ author's note: i know stuff like cnc isn't everyone's cup of tea and that's fine. read at your own discretion. xoxo. (this turned out a lot darker than i intended, sorry)

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| | beyoncé // all up in your mind

“Again, thanks a ton for hooking me up with this internship,” Murphy remarked while packing her laptop into her bag.

“No problem. You’re basically family, anything for you,” Sujin reassured her best friend.

As she walked towards the door, she turned to say, “Also, is the car necessary? I’m perfectly fine with taking the train.”

“You’re just gonna have to talk to my dad about it, sorry,” Sujin joked, waving ‘goodbye’ as the door closed and Murphy went on her merry way.

She was already behind on time as it was, after her alarm had failed to go off and wake her. Heels clinking against the marble floors as she speedwalked to the elevator, catching it just before the doors shut. As soon as the doors opened, she walked swiftly through the lobby and exited the building. Parked on the roadside right in front of the entrance, there was a black Mercedes sedan waiting, just for her. The chauffeur stood at attention with their hands behind their back. The main advantage of living in the inner city was the short commute between work and home. Although the chauffeur tried their best to weave through the traffic congestion, she still arrived 30 minutes later than usual.

As grateful as she was for the employment opportunity, what she abhored most was the environment. Or rather, how the environment reacted to her. Everybody knew everybody, but she knew almost nobody. Sentenced to exhile by those who fawned over the head honcho, simply because she was the favourite. While others had worked there for years on end, Murphy just came strutting in one day and given a seat at the boss’ desk. Accompanied him to every meeting, assisted with every project. She was basically his righthand woman, and the other ladies were not pleased, to say the least. It was the same routine all-around; she’d exit the elevator, walk chin-up into the office while the echo of her heels subdued the ambience, the others would gawk and scoff, and she’d beeline straight to her superior’s quarters.

The office was empty, no sign of the boss in sight. None of his belongings were there but the telephone rang incessantly, cutting through the austere silence. She jogged over to the desk, laid her bag and coat down on her side of the desk, and circled around to answer the phone. She sat down in the leather chair and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Park Real Estate, Murphy Isles speaking, how may I help you?” Her voice softly heralded.

“Good morning. This is Ingrid Maxwell of Kim Resorts, I was looking to get a meeting with Mr. Park today on behalf of Kim Hongjoong. Do you have any available openings?”

“Let me check how his schedule is looking,” She turned on the computer and located the planner. Her eyes browsed through the schedule, just one meeting after another.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Park has back-to-back meetings all day. I could pencil you in for after hours if it’s urgent?” She offered apologetically.

“That’s also fine, thank you. Mr. Kim would like to host the meeting on resort premises, if it’s not any trouble.”

“Noted, Mr. Park will be there at 17:30. Send my regards.”

As the phone call neared its end, Seonghwa came strutting in. A rush of heat washed over in waves on Murphy’s face and she suddenly felt her body warm up. She stood up and stepped aside, allowing Seonghwa to take his rightful place. With his hair slicked back, slivers of grey creeping in, and suit hugging his body just right, he was a silver fox in the making. A sight for the ages. The man had a perpetual grave look to him. Despite being old enough to father her, he admittedly had an allure that she couldn’t find in boys her age.

When Murphy and Sujin graduated from university a few months prior, Sujin swayed her father into hiring Murphy. Seonghwa was a successful entrepreneur, who headed a real estate empire, and having known Murphy since she was in high school, he was more than willing to give her the headstart that she was in dire need of. Even going as far as, not only hiring her a private car to take her everywhere she wanted to go, but also purchasing a condo in which she and his daughter could cohabitate. He wanted to make life simple for her.

“Kim Hongjoong’s assistant asked for a meeting today, said it was urgent. The meeting’s at 17:30.”

“Is that so?” He coaxed, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped together, holding Murphy’s gaze. “Must be important if he wants to meet after hours.”

Murphy settled down in the chair opposite Seonghwa. “Also, Mr. Park, is the private car really necessary? The train stations are within walking distance of the office and the condo.”

“Nonsense. If you’re going to work for me, it should reflect. Don’t worry about it,” A lazy grin tugged at his lips.

“I don’t know about that. The whole office already hates me for even sharing a desk with you,” She mindlessly grumbled as she set up her laptop, but her words didn’t miss him.

He leaned forward in his chair, eyebrows furrowed, “Who’s giving you trouble, Murphy?” He pried.

“No one, it’s nothing,” She feigned a smile and kept her eyes focussed on the screen.

[ . . . ]

Towards the end of business hours, while Murphy sat in her place, another intern, Wooyoung, leaned liberally against Seonghwa’s desk, facing her. In the past few minutes they had been talking, he’d managed to make her laugh and blush. The pair hit it off from the day Murphy set foot in the office months ago, but it was only a week back when Wooyoung had conjured up the courage to ask her out, to which Murphy enthusiastically agreed to entertain his suggestion.

“So, we’re still on for tonight, right?” Wooyoung hinted, and Murphy nodded. “Awesome, you’re gonna love this place, Murph. I’m telling you,” He held her chin between his fingers.

The door opened so soundlessly, that neither were aware until they heard Seonghwa’s weighted footsteps headed towards them. He caught sight of what had transpired, slightly annoyed that it was happening in the sanctity of his own space. Wooyoung scrambled to get on his feet, while Murphy remained resolute. Seonghwa loomed over the intern, eyes cold and stygian, and face void of expression.

“No fraternising during work hours, unless you want to serve a 1-hour notice,” He chastised. “You do that out there, not in my office, and certainly not on my desk.”

Wooyoung bowed his head in shame, “I’m sorry, Mr. Park. It won’t happen again,” he conceded before scurrying away, and out of the office.

“Wooyoung dropped off the market reports. Looks like your shares have gone up 2% in valuation,” She handed over the sheet of paper.

Seonghwa leaned against the desk, in the same spot formerly occupied by Wooyoung, as he surveyed the findings. “Slow but steady growth. Looks promising, what do you think?”

“I’d say this is your best investment thus far. Look,” She turned the laptop to him, “month-end projections, 35% in returns. Your shares will be worth millions by the end of the quarter.”

“I’m so glad that I listened to you on this one.”

“You’re welcome,” She chimed.

A cheek-to-cheek smile appeared on Seonghwa’s face. “Let’s go, don’t want to be late for that meeting.”

The two cleared the desk and packed away their belongings. Walking towards the door, she trailed right behind while he led the way. He opened the door and made way for her to step out. After locking, they fell into pace with one another as they walked side by side towards the exit. From wall to wall, eyes in the office followed them all the way to the elevator. With each set, she grew more anxious than usual. How she hoped the earth would just open up and swallow her. The chauffeur opened the doors for both of them, then drove to their intended destination. While Seonghwa spoke on the phone, Murphy sat with one leg crossed over the other, watching the buildings pass by in motion. Luckily, the Friday afternoon traffic had not begun yet. They arrived just in time, with only a few minutes to spare.

When they entered the premises, they were greeted by a concierge who led them through the building. They walked past a grand dining hall with grand chandeliers that hung from above, glass windows from floor to ceiling, and rustic décor, all of which caught Murphy’s eye. The look in her eyes did not pass him. Inside of the office, Seonghwa and Murphy were greeted by Kim Hongjoong, the head of the resort, and his secretary, Ingrid. They exchanged greetings, but right before the meeting began, Hongjoong whispered something into Ingrid’s ear, and she nodded.

Ingrid walked over to Murphy, “Let’s go get something to drink, shall we? Leave the gentlemen be,” she suggested.

She was hesitant to move from her spot but Seonghwa reassured her, giving her the green light. Ingrid and Murphy left the office, and took their places at an unoccupied table on the balcony. A waiter approached them, jotted down their orders in his notebook, and disappeared. He returned with a tray holding two beverages, and placed each one in front of the girls.

“So, what’s it like working for Mr. Park? Never seen him come to these meetings with anyone, other than himself,” Ingrid sipped on her drink.

“I like it. For the most part, the job’s easy and the pay is even better. Can’t say I’ve made friends though.”

“I’ve heard,” Murphy’s eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “I have a friend who works at Park Real Estate, they talked about you once.”

“Oh God…”

“Nothing bad, don’t worry about it,” Ingrid chuckled lightly. “I get it, happened to me when I first started working for Hongjoong.”

“The stares… did they ever stop? The gossip?” A hint of desperation was laced in her question.

“No,” Ingrid refuted. “I just stopped caring. Realised that Hongjoong’s opinion was the only one that mattered. Can’t help that the boss loves me.”

The sky was soon void of any light by the time the meeting concluded. Ingrid and Murphy talked the time away, bonding over their shared experiences of being the boss’ favourite. One laughed, while the other would relay a story. They didn’t realise how fast the time had past them. On the other end of the passageway, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were just wrapping up their meeting. They stood by the door and talked a bit. Hongjoong reached into his pocket and brought out a key, which he handed over to Seonghwa. He looked at it, confused by the gesture.

“On the house,” Hongjoong urged, hinting at the intern at the other end of the passageway. “Ask Ingrid to throw in some party favours, in case you need them. And check the drawers.”

Seonghwa smirked, “Pleasure doing business with you, Kim.”

Hongjoong disappeared back into his office, as Seonghwa sauntered over to the balcony. Unbeknownst to her, Murphy was so engrossed in the conversation, she didn’t hear when Seonghwa called to her.

“Mr. Park…” Ingrid acknowledged the man who stood right beside Murphy.

“Ingrid, Hongjoong mentioned something about party favours?” Seonghwa briefly glanced at Murphy, Ingrid nodded with a slight grin on her face.

“It was nice meeting you, Murphy. I really hope we can do this again,” Ingrid said as she stood from her place.

Murphy stood up and circled around to hug Ingrid, “I’ll call you,” she affirmed.

The three exchanged goodbyes before Ingrid headed elsewhere, and Seonghwa accompanied Murphy towards the exit. They headed in the same direction they came in earlier, except now, He led them into the dining hall that she was doting over earlier on. She felt uneasy as she had to get home and prepare for her date with Wooyoung.

“Mr. Park, I need to get home. There’s somewhere that I really need to be.”

“Relax, Murphy. We won’t be long, 30 minutes, I promise.”

And 30 minutes it was. Only 30 minutes into their shared dinner, Murphy had already had a lot to drink, but not enough to get her drunk. Just buzzed. Buzzed enough to get her to loosen up. Enough to see Seonghwa as just a man, and not her best friend’s father. While they drank and talked the time away, he would briefly touch her intimately in passing. Their conversations were less rigid and formal, and more open and inviting.

“Earlier you mentioned being mistreated in the office, what’s wrong?”

At first she was hesitant, but eventually allowed herself to be honest. “Everyone basically... h-hates me because they think you’re playing favourites,” Her voice quaked and her breath shuddered, her head hung.

“You don’t really believe that, do you now?”

She sniffled and her back shuddered, the faint sound of her weeping landed on his ears. He held her chin between his fingers and cocked her head up, meeting her glossy, distressed eyes. His thumb brushed away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked. “I- I thought I could get past it and pretend it’s not happening. But I’m just having a hard time adjusting. I feel like a castaway and I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“I believe you, but you know, it’s only natural that I favour you. I’ve known you the longest.”

When she noticed how inappropriate the entire interaction had become, she wiped her tears. “Oh God...” She whispered, gulping down the rest of her wine. “I- I need to go, I’m meeting somebody.”

As she stood up from her place, her head suddenly felt light. She held onto the table, and as she was about to stand again, her muscles became languid, causing her to lose balance. Seonghwa was quick to catch her around the waist. She tried speaking, but her words were jumbled. Her breathing was laboured, and the whole room suddenly felt like it was lacking in ventilation. He took her belongings and led her to a room, using the key acquired earlier on and unlocked the door.

He laid her down gently on the bed. His eyes watched with a raging hunger as he undressed his upper body, removing the tie, jacket, and shirt. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her semi-conscious body. His lips found her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses, nibbling at her skin. His hand fiddled with the front zipper of her dress, slowly dragging it down to reveal her matching set of underwear.

“Mr. Park... w-what are you doing? I...” She gulped as her words lazily hung in the air. “I don’t feel so good...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you,” He promised between kisses. “You’ll feel better in no time...”

He continued to kiss her neck and bare chest, whilst his hands caressed her thighs with desperation. Roaming everywhere from her breasts, to her ass. He loved the feeling of her skin in his hands. The contact was everything. The scent of her perfume created a bubble of sophism, fooling him into believing that they were fated to be.

“You asked for this, Murphy. Those skimpy little dresses you wear and always putting your boobs in my face. You were just begging for me to give it to you,” He growled into her ears, sending a wave of fear coursing through her body.

He posited himself between her thighs and pressed kisses on her stomach. Each kiss moved higher than the last. Wetter and sloppier than before. Murphy squirmed beneath him while he had her hands pinned over her head. With the little energy she had, her feet tried kicking him off, but did so to no avail.

“Please, no...” She wept, tears running down the sides of her face as the white pillowcases stained with mascara. “Mr. Park, don’t... Please...”

He halted all actions and immediately stood up from the bed. A sense of relief enveloped her, but the tears just wouldn’t cease. The fear of how far it all would have gone had he ignored her. A part of her also felt guilty because how was she supposed to face her best friend, knowing what her father had just done? She sat up on the edge of the bed, wiping her tears while Seonghwa put on his dress shirt.

“Make sure your side of my desk is cleaned out by Monday, don’t bother coming back to work,” Seonghwa’s words were harsh and heavy with consequence.

“W-what?”

“You’re fired.”

“N-no, Mr. Park, you can’t do that!” She blurted, panic setting in with every passing moment.

“Frankly, I can,” He boasted as he buttoned up his shirt. “Clearly, you don’t appreciate this opportunity that I’ve given you. God, do you know how many graduates would die to work for me?”

She stood up and slowly approached him, but nearly lost her balance, so she held on to the nearby glass table for support. “I do appreciate it, I really do. I just– I– ” She sputtered as the fear of unemployment became more potent.

“You what?”

“I– don’t fire me, please,” She begged. “Just– I’ll do whatever you want,” Her hands began undoing the buttons of his shirt and hesitantly tugged on the hem of his trousers. “It’s... Sujin... She’d never forgive me.”

“It’ll be our little secret, then. Nobody has to know, now do they?”

He wiped away her tears and dipped down to catch her lips. While his pressed firmly against hers, and his tongue moved meticulously inside her mouth, she was still apprehensive. Each time their tongues met, a tear would roll down her cheek. The guilt was just overwhelming, but the need to keep her job was stronger. She removed his dress shirt. Her fingertips were delicate, touching every inch of his carved torso, until she unzipped his trousers. He stopped her from reaching in. Instead, he removed her dress and undergarments.

Nearby was a small table, in which he bent her over, her ass brushing against his throbbing, clothed cock. Tremors meandered up her spine when her nipples met the cold feel of the table’s glass surface. She hissed. When he dropped his trousers to the floor, his cock sprung out, slapping against his stomach then grazing her skin. He was massive with a bright pink tip, very generous in both length and girth. While he stroked himself, he palmed a handful of her cheek, kneading it. A crackling sound bounced off the walls when his hand met her cheek at full force, illiciting a whimper. He spread her cheeks open, his tongue lapping up her juices. He lined himself up at her entrance. The tip alone stretched her out, and without so much as a warning, he slammed into her tight, sopping hole. Filling her right up. She lurched forward as she whined, and tears ran down her temples and onto the table.

His hands gripped her waist with efficacy, nails digging into her skin. Each thrust was slow and hard, affording him the opportunity to slap her ass as much as he wished. His pace slowly started picking up, with Murphy trying to reach back and slow him down. Instead, grabbed both her hands and pinned them to her back.

“Naughty bunny. Your body, my rules, understood?” He dictated.

“Y-yes, Mr. Park,” She moaned breathlessly.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, and began thrusting into her relentlessly. The sound of his hips snapping against her ass echoed louder than the rumbling air conditioner Her legs trembled as a trail of cum glid down her thighs. Her moans and his grunts sung together like a ballad. He moved sporadically as she grew tighter around him, her first orgasm of the night slowly crept in. His pace remained steady while she came undone all over his cock. A white ring formed around him. But he was not looking to cum just yet, no. He wanted to look her dead in the eyes as he laid claim over her entire livelihood.

As Murphy slowly descended from her high, Seonghwa hoisted her up and sat her on the table. She leaned back as he spread her legs open, holding them up with his arms. He slammed back into her drenched hole, grinding up against her. Her face glistened with sweat, as did his. They held each other’s eyes, refusing to look away. The way her breasts danced with every thrust, the smudged mascara, the rosy cheeks and nose, the disheveled hair; he appreciated the sight of this miscellany. He did that. His hand snaked around her neck, squeezing at the sides, and brought her face closer.

“I ever catch you with that punk again, I’ll fire you both. You work for me, so you do as I say, am I clear?” He growled under his breath.

“He’s out of my life,” She nodded profusely, “I promise.”

His own orgasm finally washed over him, yet he continued grinding into her. As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he held her eyes in his, her arms swung over his shoulders. They shared a deep, passionate kiss as ribbons of warm cum painted her walls. He had successfully marked his territory like he had dreamt of doing for months. They both watched as he slowly thrusted cum back into her abused core.

“So... beautiful,” She whispered as she watched him thrust in and out.

He smirked to himself, “See, that’s why you’re my favourite worker bee,” he coaxed. “I’m not done with you just yet.”

Carrying her astride, he walked over to the bed and laid her down on her back. He leaned over to reach into the bedside drawer. He opened it, only to find 2 pairs of handcuffs staring him in the eye. The glimmer of the ceiling lights danced on the silver surface, enticing and provoking him. He took them out and started prepping them for usage. In a state of delirium, Murphy still managed to make out what was in Seonghwa’s hands. She attempted to lift her head off the pillow, but he pushed her back down.

The sound of the metal locking around her wrist put her in a sudden state of panic. “Mr. Park, I don’t like this...”

He ignored her as he locked the other end around her ankle. “Mr. Park, please,” Fear was palpable in her voice, “I– I don’t like being restrained, please, don’t...”

“Shhh,” He uttered, “I’d never hurt you, bunny,” She weakly clawed at his chest, only for her freed wrist to be cuffed down. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over before you know it. Let me show you how my favourite employee really deserves to be treated.”

“Please, I’ve been so good. Not this...” She sobbed, body squirming under his weight as she felt his tip graze her aching core.

He balanced himself on his elbows as he slotted himself between her thighs, silencing her heartfelt pleas with a soft kiss, which she cried into. A desperate attempt to connect in a way he could not with sex. A low moan arose from her diaphragm when he steadily fitted himself back inside of her. He pecked her once more before burying his face into the crook of her neck, finding his rhythm as grinded into her with practiced precision. Her once distressed cries, now replaced by pleasured whimpers, landed on his ears and encouraged him to continue using her however he wished.

“Why’re you always teasing me with the way that you dress? Why’re you testing my limits?”

“Because I can...” Her voice so sultry, she proclaimed into his ear.

With a lot more speed, he thrusted faster. One hand on the headboard, the other had a firm grip on her neck while he gently pressed her into the mattress. Her cries became louder, needier. The sound of her core squelching, arousal leaked from her sopping hole, down her to ass and onto the sheets. Seonghwa’s face hovered a few inches above hers. He instructed her to open her mouth, and she gladly obliged. A sliver of spit hung from his lips, and she reached for it with her tongue, quenching a longstanding thirst.

“Mr. Park, please, faster! Faster!”

“That’s it, bunny. Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good...”

His hips bucked when he felt her clamp around him. Both his hands on the headboard, her back arched and head buried in the pillows, they were both approaching the finish line. As she was about to crest, she called out his first name, an anomaly to both. The squelching became deafly loud as she came all over him. Her body convulsed, a slow-growing pain in her hips become more evident, longer she was restrained. Meanwhile, Seonghwa welcomed his own orgasm. His cock twitched erratically inside of her, spraying his seed in every crevice of her warmth.

He collapsed on her chest, leaving trails of wet kisses on her collarbone. The taste of sweat lingered on his tongue. He decorated her neck with numerous hickeys before removing her restraints. Without a second to waste, she was out like a light, and her soft snores filled the room. He switched off all the lights in the room before laying beside her and fell into a slumber of his own.

[ . . . ]

At around 23:00, her eyes fluttered open, the room was coated in darkness with not even a sliver of moonlight to illuminate. When she turned to her side, there laid Seonghwa, hair spread all over his face, and chest rising and falling. Her throat was so dry, it felt as though somebody stuffed it with cotton. Body ached at every joint and limb. But she was particularly sore down there. Careful not wake him, she slipped out of bed. Drowsy and head throbbing, she stumbled but held onto the bedside drawer for balance. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she tiptoed around the bed and put on her clothes. She took her heels in one hand and her purse in the other, then her phone vibrated. A thread of text messages and missed phone calls.

Sujin: held up at work? [18:01]

Sujin: HEEELLLOOOOO??? [18:27]

Sujin: GIRL WHERE TF ARE YOU? ARE YOU MAD AT ME? :( [18:45]

Wooyoung: You running late? [19:15]

Wooyoung: If you didn’t wanna go out, you should’ve told me so. [19:49]

Wooyoung: You could at least explain yourself… [20:37]

Sujin: i’m getting worried. where are you? [23:48]

She continued to tiptoe to the door, sneaking glances of a sleeping Seonghwa. The door would not budge when she pulled down the handle. A cold wave blanketed her when she realised it was locked. She searched the glass table for the keys but found nothing. Seonghwa’s trousers splayed across the floor, and so she checked the pockets. Something jingled, and a sense of relief blanketed her. Her hand reached into the pocket and–

“What do you think you’re doing?” Seonghwa’s voice cut through the silence, groggy and still heavy with sleep.

Quietly removing the keys from the pocket, he dropped his trousers to the floor. “I- I, uh, need to get home. S-Sujin’s been texting…”

He got up from the bed, and stood before her, uncovered. “My daughter can take care of herself. Keys on the table, now.” She reluctantly obliged. “Good, now take off your clothes.”

As the tears loomed and ran free on her cheeks, she wished her heart would quiet down, afraid Seonghwa could hear it. She tried sorting through her emotions as she removed all of her clothes, but it was a mélange of fear, anticipation and guilt, and an unconfirmed tinge of excitement. At last, nude, he dipped down to press a kiss on her lips while his hands travelled down to grab the back of her thighs. The kiss held a salty taste from her tears. He hoisted her up and carried her to the bed. No more resistance. Instead, she succumbed to her fate. Her mind retreated in a subspace devoid of guilt, only open to pleasure brought on by obedience. Her soft moans filled the room as she relentlessly begged for him to never stop.

.

.

.

taglist babies:

@nopension

[masamasan]

[Brand New Hero | Mark x You]

Summary: As the newest PR intern at the GDA, you’re at the absolute bottom of the food chain. Until you meet him: a clumsy, god-awfully dressed rookie hero with no name, no fame, and no idea what he’s doing.

Your master plan: make him the greatest superhero this world has ever seen.

You’re a teenager. He’s a teenager. Throw in a wild cocktail of hormones, a couple of near-death experiences, and some crippling anxiety. What could possibly go wrong?

Contains: Alternate Universe | Female Reader | Slow Burn | Friends to Lovers

"Describe yourself."

Ah, yes — the most dreaded of questions, probably the most awkward ice breaker there is. Worst thing is that it tells you absolutely nothing about anyone.

It usually goes one of two ways:

You either tell them the most generic, Jane or John Doe kind of response as humanly possible (‘I like music, hanging out with friends, and going to the gym’) or go the special snowflake route and tell them a meaningless, obscure fact about yourself (‘I like this really niche, indie boy band from Iceland that nobody knows except for me’).

Either way, it’s fake, mildly disturbing, and something you’d rather like to skip.

But how would you describe yourself?

You freshly turned eighteen, were an early high school graduate, and had a full-ride scholarship to the University of Virgina. So you weren't completely stupid, no. But you weren't one of those brain-melting Einsteins nor one of those hard-working underdog model students either.

The most special thing about you was not you, but your family: Your parents were both prodigies in their respective fields and got recruited to work for the government right after college graduation.

When you were younger, you thought they were spies, like the ones in that movie with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. They'd zoom around in their bullet-proof Jeeps, only strut out of the house in their perfectly-ironed black suits, and would feed your classmates the lamest lies about working boring office jobs. When you discovered in fourth grade that they were, in fact, not secret agents, you were mildly devastated, to put it lightly.

In short: You were a nepo baby and had rich parents that sent you to an excessively expensive, really snobby private school that made it ridiculously easy to get into any college you wanted.

What else? You were kind of a (massive, enormous, colossal) people pleaser, and thought the only thing defining your self-worth was if others liked you. Everything you did was done perfectly, and you would rather swallow a thousand needles than let others think you were incompetent in any way. That left you stuck being everyone's go-to person whenever they needed a group project partner — only to end up doing the entire thing by yourself while they could lean back and watch.

You blamed your parents for that cursed trait, because they had such ridiculously high expectations for their only child that you couldn't allow yourself to disappoint them even microscopically. They wanted you to be their perfect mini-clone, destined to follow in their footsteps and become another successful government drone. And then when you found yourself a guy who would fulfill their impossible standards (probably an astronaut, doctor, and lawyer all in one), you'd create a perfect copy of them in the future again, so their legacy could live on forever and ever. Hooray.

That's how you ended up here, as an intern for the Global Defensive Agency inside the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia. Your parents had convinced the director to let you prove yourself, helping you to take your first step into your government career.

“It's going to be hard in the beginning," your dad had said. "If you don't do your tasks well, they will sort you out and you will never get that opportunity again."

Those words stuck with you throughout the first weeks of your internship, when you would run around to get everyone their correct order of coffee, copy and staple their paperwork or reply to angry emails from citizens whose houses got destroyed in the recent Omni-Man vs Lizard Group fight.

Work was hard, especially when you had to juggle that on top of your Political Economy online classes, but somehow you managed. The nightmarish image of your parents' disappointed faces combined with a truly concerning amount of your self-brewed espresso and Red Bull concoction (patent pending) kept you going, alright.

And you did well. You were an amazing errand runner, if you said so yourself. You never spilled a drop of coffee, never stapled the wrong documents, and never lost your cool when citizens called you insults in their angry emails. The best intern ever. That's what you were. Gold star for you.

So when your mother, a scientist, who worked closely with the director of the GDA, had helped you get a promotion, you weren't so sure if you were happy with it. You were great as a coffee girl, so why risk it and start from the bottom again? Hell, maybe you could be a coffee girl manager one day if you kept it up!

"You will never be the best, if you don't even try," your mother had said. “And what’s the point if you’re not the best?”

There wasn’t much you could say to argue — especially when she hit you with one of those ‘if looks could kill’ glares that made you rethink your entire life choice of opening your mouth. So you agreed, like the perfect grateful daughter you were.

Your new role in the PR department was to help raise Teen Team's public image. It sounded a lot more exciting than it actually was. Most days, it meant crafting excuses when they accidentally leveled a neighborhood during a fight, or scrambling to spin damage control after another politically incorrect comment in an interview.

And now you stood in front of young superheroes you were supposed to work with, a group of mismatched teens that had been under GDA's care for some time now. Five pairs of eyes were glued to your awkwardly stiff black suit-clad body, a clipboard with nothing written on it pressed against your chest as they expectantly waited for an introduction.

So… with your mediocre background story in mind, how did you describe yourself?

The most accurate would be: A privileged doormat with an unhealthy caffeine addiction.

But of course you would never say that.

"I like listening to music," you stammered, after giving them your name. "And meeting friends in my spare time," you quickly added.

You went the Jane Doe route, to play it safe. Not cool, but there was nothing cool about you anyway. You also forgot the gym part, but it was too late now.

Instead of introducing themselves back to you, they shrugged your uncomfortable attempt at socializing off. The redhead sent you a crooked smile out of pity. That was nice. Kinda.

"Well, you guys can go back to training," Donald said, clearing his throat, when the silence got too thick. “I think you did a great job."

The older man patted you awkwardly on your shoulder, and you grimaced at yourself as soon as the heroes turned their backs on you. You couldn't think of a better way to completely wreck your reputation on the first day with the people you were supposed to work for... at least it went better than that time when you met Cecil for the first time. That memory had been safely locked away in the 'never ever think about again, not even under torture' part of your brain.

"Don't worry," Donald quickly added, when he saw your panicked face. "It was hard for me, too, in the beginning. But you'll get the hang of it."

You nodded and suppressed the urge to cry tears of pure, undiluted mortification. Donald was probably the only person here who actually treated you like a human being, and not like a coffee-bringing, document-stapling, hate-mail-responding cyborg with a government-approved stamp on its forehead. You were pretty sure it was because you reminded him of himself — another professional doormat for the higher-ups to wipe their feet on.

He was the director's right-hand man... and left-hand man too. If there was anything Cecil didn't want to do, Donald would be stuck doing it. That's how he became your mentor of sorts — Cecil had waved you off like an annoying mosquito and declared he didn't have time for insignificant interns like you, so Donald got forcibly drafted into babysitting duty.

You involuntarily saw yourself in Donald, too, a haunting glimpse of what your future might hold. Your gaze wandered from his aggressively receding hairline to his strangely bland face. Is that how you would end up? Senior assistant manager or whatever Donald's actual title was? You just hoped you would end up with more stylish glasses than his tragic grey frames.

When you were asked to return to your desk and help with other tasks, your mind wandered off again. A life solely dedicated to chasing the approval of others, to being at the bottom of the food chain, to accepting even microscopic scraps of attention as long as you would get noticed... was that really how your life was going to be? Become the human equivalent of a participation certificate?

*

When you were younger, your parents moved around a lot. Government duties and all that. You’d been to San Fransisco, St. Louis, Milwaukee, and a bunch of other big cities you barely remembered. The last time you were in Chicago was when you were five. You think it was when your mom was send there for two months to work on a “super secret mission”. Now you were back in the Windy City as an official GDA intern, which sounded way more impressive than it actually was.

Donald had asked you to deliver "extremely important documents" the director needed urgently. They were supposedly so top secret that they couldn't be sent electronically or by mail and had to be hand-delivered. You were convinced Donald just really pitied seeing you sitting at your desk all day and invented a task to give you something vaguely resembling purpose.

When you arrived at the glass-and-steel monstrosity in downtown Chicago, you endured a security process worse than the TSA: two body scans, multiple ID checks, and an interview that felt more like an interrogation — all so they could dramatically hand you... wait for it... two pages in a manila envelope.

"Close the door when you leave," the secretary droned without looking up from her phone, gnawing on her pen like it was a salami stick.

You nodded and smiled reflexively (your default response), then slipped out and eased the door shut with the careful precision of someone defusing a bomb. Looking down at the thin envelope in your hands, reality sank in. Did you really just take a flight in the middle of the night, went through all this alien like probing, just to be send away after five minutes? You sighed.

The hallway stretched out, empty — pretty sure you just saw a tumbleweed roll by. Security had been tight as a vice at the entrance, but once inside, the guards were seemingly on permanent coffee break. That's when you spotted it: a sign pointing to roof access. If anyone had been around, they might’ve seen the light bulb pop up over your head. If the government was going to waste your time, you might as well make it worthwhile with a nice view of Chicago before heading back.

You glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then slipped through the stairwell door and headed up.

The rooftop greeted you with a gust of wind that nearly snatched the precious two pages from your grasp. Clutching the envelope to your chest, you settled at a respectable distance from the edge. Safety first, exciting views second — you didn’t want to end up in the headlines as the first GDA intern that fell to her death while on duty, after all.

Chicago sprawled before you: all concrete, glass, and ant-sized humans going about their business. It was... fine, you thought. Nice, even. But not exactly the life-altering moment movies had promised. No epiphany, no sudden clarity about your life's purpose, just... buildings. Taller than the ones in Virginia, maybe, but still just… buildings.

Then, just as you were about to shrug and accept your boring fate, a flash of neon caught your eye. You froze mid-turn, eyes squinting.

About three blocks away, someone in a blinding mix of yellow, orange, and turquoise was flailing wildly at what looked like a living chunk of concrete. It was a fight — probably. At least, that’s what it was trying to be.

The hero, assuming that’s what you thought he was (villains usually had better fashion sense), launched himself at Concrete Man. Judging by how he pinballed off the alley walls just trying to reach his target, he was definitely new. Probably not even a properly trained hero.

Vigilantes and hobby heroes weren’t exactly rare these days. More and more people were waking up with powers, and plenty didn’t hesitate to use them, for better or worse. Technically, you were supposed to report your powers to the GDA and get registered before doing anything flashy. But good luck enforcing that on everyone.

Concrete Man responded by seizing the hero by his costume and hurling him sideways into the brick wall of an apartment building. The hero peeled himself off the wall, wobbling visibly even from your distant perch. But instead of retreating, he managed to launch himself forward again and crash directly into his opponent.

The impact sent both combatants tumbling violently against the walls of the alleyway, breaking off a fire escape in the process, and then finally into the street, where they managed to flip over a parked car.

The final crash sent both fighters sprawling. Concrete Man hit the ground hard, chunks of his rocky armor crumbling away to reveal dark skin and the surprisingly ordinary face of a man beneath the rubble. The hero was the first to get up. He didn’t look shaken, just winded, as he stared down at his fallen opponent.

He’d won. Somehow, against all odds and coordination, the rookie had actually taken down the villain.

You stood frozen, documents forgotten in your hand. You’d seen plenty of hero footage during your GDA internship: clean, polished takedowns by legends like Omni-Man or the Immortal. This wasn’t that. This was raw. Messy. Kind of pathetic.

And yet… You were leaning forward now, hands gripping the edge of the parapet, heart ticking faster than you cared to admit. This was probably the closest you'd ever come to being starstruck — and all because you’d just watched a clumsy rookie take down a giant pebble.

Blue and red flickered at the edge of your vision — sirens, no doubt — and the moment the hero noticed them, he bolted. He shot into the air, but clipped the side of a building, and spun wildly mid-air.

You watched, amused… until something about the trajectory felt off.

He was getting bigger.

No, closer.

Wait.

Your mind was still playing catch-up, trying to connect the dots, when your body finally decided to panic. You stumbled back, clutching your very important GDA documents like your life depended on them.

A blur of orange filled your vision, followed by a heavy thud, and the next thing you knew, you were flat on your back, staring at the sky, with the wind knocked clean out of you.

You blinked, disoriented. The thin GDA envelope was still clutched against your chest, safe and sound, so you sat up, heart thudding. No concussion, no major injuries. You were fine.

Your gaze shifted to the sprawled figure in orange, yellow, and turquoise lying a few feet away.

For a split second, your body locked up. The guy who just punched a literal walking, talking concrete wall was lying just an arm's length away from you — a mere (below average fit) human. The last time you physically hurt someone was when you accidentally slapped Donald on the forehead, trying to swat a fly. You were, without question, the last person on Earth who stood a chance against someone with superhuman strength.

Your fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and you scrambled to bolt for the door. But just as your foot lifted, he groaned and sat up, hand cradling his head.

Your heart was slamming violently against your ribs. Every instinct screamed run, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Up close, the outfit was even worse: faded orange rain boots, baggy turquoise joggers with at least two visible holes, and a tight orange top that definitely had seen better days. A yellow cloth masked the lower half of his face. Through his cracked pair of goggles, a sharp brown eye peered out.

You hadn’t realized you were full-on staring until he met your gaze. Instantly, your breath caught.

Your muscles froze. Not out of awe, but out of pure, feral fear.

Sure, he seemed like a hero. But these days, who knew? Powers didn’t come with moral compasses. What if he was one of those loose-cannon vigilantes who didn’t like witnesses?

Was this how it ended? Smacked off a rooftop just because you were nosy?

For a moment that felt like eternity, you both stared at each other, silence stretching until it got too uncomfortable.

“Are you—” your voice came out lower than you expected, so you tried again, louder. “Are you gonna kill me?”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your eyes dropped immediately, refusing to meet his.

A dozen grim scenarios flashed through your mind, one worse than the next, until they all blurred into static. Silence stretched.

“Huh?” the guy said, blinking. His voice was higher than you’d expected. “Wait — what? No! I — God, no. I was just… trying to help.”

You risked a glance up. He was standing now — and, wow, he was taller than you expected. Yeah, you definitely stood no chance at all against him.

He took a cautious step forward.

You mirrored it backward, stiff as a board.

He froze, then quickly raised both hands like he was trying to show you he meant no harm. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

His gaze flickered sideways, seeming nervous all of a sudden.

“I was just chasing this bad guy and then… uh—“ He scratched the back of his neck, shifting his weight. “I kinda lost control.”

A beat passed.

“Also, sorry about… you know.” He gestured vaguely at the rooftop. “Crashing into you.”

You gave him another cautious once-over. His posture was stiff, his eyes wide and unsure — it almost reminded you of a puppy meeting someone new for the first time. He definitely didn’t look dangerous. If anything, he seemed more scared of you than the other way around. Your shoulders dropped a little. It wasn’t safe, not exactly, but not an immediate threat either.

You offered him a tight-lipped smile.

“It was amazing!” you blurted before your brain could stop your mouth. Your face flushed. “I mean the fight against the stone guy. Not the part where you knocked me out.”

“Oh. Uh… thanks?” he said, blinking like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “I’m still figuring things out. Kind of winging it, honestly.”

Then, the two of you were both staring — holding the awkward prolonged eye contact like neither of you had any idea how social interactions were supposed to work. Still, there was something about him. He didn’t just survive a fight with a living concrete slab — he won. And he was a complete nobody.

And yet…

Was this what talent scouts felt at high school basketball games? That strange gut-deep certainty? The kid had no training, no coordination, almost non existent flying skills… and yet you could see it. Potential. Raw, stupid, unpolished potential.

Your breath caught.

And suddenly, like lightning hitting the ground, you got an idea. A brilliant idea. This was it. This was your ticket out. He was going to change your fate!

“What’s your name?” you asked, taking a step closer.

“Ma—” He stopped, caught himself, and scratched the back of his head. “Uh. I mean. Haven’t really settled on one yet.”

“We’ll figure that out,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, and closed the distance between you. “Have you ever thought about becoming a professional hero?”

He squinted at you. “A… what?”

“A professional hero,” you repeated, eyes bright. “Y’know. Like, full-time. Uniform, sponsors, TV deals, the whole package.”

He gave a vague shrug. “I guess? I mean, not really. I just do stuff.”

Your grin widened, your mind already drifting into the ideal version of your future. This was happening. This was your moment. Goodbye coffee runs, goodbye being Donald’s stand-in, and good-fucking-bye to being your parents’ puppet. They couldn’t say a damn thing if you were the one who discovered the next great superhero.

You were going to make history.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly, breaking you out of your mental victory parade.

You blinked, quickly told him, and then, with way too much energy, asked, “Are you interested in working with the GDA?”

He flinched slightly at your volume. “The… GDA?”

With dramatic flair, you yanked the retractable cord on your badge and shoved it right in his face. “Boom. See? I work for them.” (You purposely skipped over the ‘intern’ part.)

“I could help you become a real hero,” you said, voice dropping into a lower, persuasive tone. “We’ve got the training. The funding. The connections.”

You were already picturing your new business cards. Agent. Advisor. Executive Talent Scout. No, screw it — director.

The rookie blinked again, slowly. Then smiled politely.

“Thanks,” he said. “But no.”

Pop. There went your dream. Your smile dropped.

“I’m not really looking to join a government squad,” he added, scratching at the back of his neck. “Kinda trying to do my own thing.”

You stared at him like he’d just refused a winning lottery ticket. Thirty days paid vacation. Free dental. 401k. You were pretty sure Donald even said something about a masseuse coming in every Monday. Was he insane not to accept a deal like that?

“Well, uh, sorry again for crashing into you,” he said, waving vaguely in your direction. “Nice meeting you, though.”

You watched in horror as he turned away.

No. No no no! You can’t let this opportunity slip through your fingers like that!

You scrambled after him. “Wait! I — I work with really big names! Like, I’ve met the Immortal!”

He didn’t even glance back. “Miss, I’ve got places to be.”

You followed anyway, practically tripping over your own feet. “Okay, okay, I get it! You don’t want anyone telling you what to do. Totally fair. Authority sucks. The government’s kind of the worst!”

He stopped at the rooftop edge, one foot already on the parapet. You panicked.

“But resources!” you yelled. “You want to help people, right? We have actual resources. Real support. Equipment. You could do so much more.”

That made him hesitate.

He turned just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His expression had softened. This was it. Now or never — you pressed your advantage.

“We could train you. Help you get better. You’d be teamed with other pros — people with experience. People who could teach you. You could save thousands of lives, maybe millions.”

You paused for effect. “You could even be like… Omni-Man.”

That seemed to hit a nerve. His eyes widened, then dropped to the cracked concrete below him. He didn’t move. He was thinking.

You stood there, fists clenched, hardly breathing.

And then, when he lifted his gaze to meet yours, there was something in his expression you couldn’t quite place — curiosity? Hesitation?

“Like Omni-Man?” he asked.

You had him.

“Yes! Like Omni-Man! No — even better,” you said, nodding enthusiastically. “I saw what you did back there. You’ve got potential. You just need the right push!”

He turned fully to face you now. His shoulders lowered, the tension from just minutes in his stance slowly melting away. He let out a small sigh.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” you echoed, blinking.

“Yeah… maybe I could come by. You could show me around or whatev—”

Before he could finish, you squealed and threw your fists in the air, letting your precious envelope fall to the ground. He flinched slightly at the volume, but you barely noticed. You grabbed his shoulders, surprisingly solid under your fingers, and gave him a small shake.

“I’m gonna make you a star!”

He nodded a little, eyes wide with second thoughts. But it didn’t matter. He said yes.

You spun around, already rambling through the list of things you’d need: training schedule, PR angle, a costume designer, maybe even a catchphrase. Behind your whirlwind of words, your thoughts were soaring.

He agreed. He really agreed.

Not just to being trained or becoming a part of the GDA.

He agreed to help you escape. To pull you out of the endless, thankless spiral you’d been trapped in.

You had just taken your first step toward freedom. And you were never going back.

Read more on AO3.

[mixtapedoh]

and it was all yellow | y.j.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !

word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆

— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.

now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.

not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.

especially those things that could be used to his advantage.

— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).

— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."

to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.

(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)

to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.

— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.

ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.

— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”

“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”

and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”

and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”

"[REDACTED]."

"...shit."

— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.

— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.

and goddamn, if things didn't follow.

— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.

another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.

— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).

— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.

— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.

— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.

— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.

the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.

you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.

— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.

but then it didn't.

at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).

at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.

and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.

— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.

— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?

and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).

— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.

after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.

and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.

(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)

— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.

— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.

"what?"

and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.

jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"

it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"

you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.

"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.

"you think your ex would have bought that?"

of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."

"and that jacket is more my style than his."

"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."

"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."

and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?

"race you to the elevator."

— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.

— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).

"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."

"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."

and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).

— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.

— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.

the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.

— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of coton de tulear puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.

he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead

"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."

(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)

— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.

if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.

and he never did...

until you started to wear the things he left, of course.

'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)

'sure, but why 2?'

'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'

'???!?'

'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'

'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'

'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'

'😑'

'so what's your ring size?'

'stfu'

— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.

and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...

— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.

and besides. it looked good on you.

— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.

— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.

being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.

— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.

— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.

the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.

though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"

randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.

— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.

— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.

either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.

"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"

"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."

and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.

"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."

"but! it's all been submitted now."

"then i'll meet you."

— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'

you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.

— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.

despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.

if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.

— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,

it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.

— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.

it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.

— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.

— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.

you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.

he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.

— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.

not that it bothered you, of course.

it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— so.

if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.

deceit? of course.

scheming? obviously.

lying? naturally.

blackmailing? most assuredly.

gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.

changing criteria? yes.

moving goalposts? clearly.

hiding the apparent? well...

— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.

and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?

— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.

— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.

and it was only getting worse.

— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).

— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.

please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.

after all, what else are older brothers for?

— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.

— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.

it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.

"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"

cue jun choking once more.

"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."

"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.

"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."

"but then y/n could get his blessing!"

— at some point, jun was at his wits end.

in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.

if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.

one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.

— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.

one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.

— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.

jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”

“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”

you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"

— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 

— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.

— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN

“angel.”

you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…

— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.

— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.

“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”

your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.

“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”

“i think i have time for both.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

[malixxxmizer]

I forgot to put it's Vampire!Mana x FEMreader hehehehehe my bad🗿 and advance thx

♱ Yoru No Kage (夜の影)

“shadow of the night”- Vampire!Mana x afab!Reader

You were offered an exclusive opportunity to study abroad your final year of university with one of the most elite universities in Japan and intern with a prestigious media company in the heart of Osaka. You found that this was the perfect time to branch off from your family and lay down your roots somewhere besides your small town where everyone knows everyone.  You had saved up money every summer planning for an opportunity like this, finally you could live the life you had always wanted, pursuing your dreams and living life to the fullest.

Without a second glance, you packed your bags and headed to Japan ready to begin the adventure of a lifetime, or so you thought. Your move was very smooth to say the least; you were settling in nicely into your new studio apartment and had managed to make friends with several other students who attended the university and we’re pursuing your same major.

Since everyone in the friend group was alternative to some extent, including yourself, you all took it upon yourselves to explore the local alternative scene by going to goth clubs, attending local metal and rock shows, and meeting other people in the scene. This of course was when you all weren’t studying for exams, or meeting deadlines for your internships. 

Every dimly lit club your friend group managed to find themselves in on the weekends had one thing in common, the gorgeous stranger with the offputting aura who’s eyes never seemed to loose yours. There was something there, something dangerous, and you didn’t know if you had the courage to explore it, no matter how much alcohol your friends forced down your throat. One second you both were having the most intense trance-like staring contest, then the next they were gone with the blink of an eye. Strange. Intriguing. Dangerous. 

If curiosity hadn’t killed the cat, the cat would’ve never satiated its need to know. Know whether they were alive or dead. God, when the gorgeous strangers' eyes met yours one fateful night at your favorite goth club Yoru No Kage you knew that their gaze was simply one worth dying for. After your trance was broken, they were once again gone. Without any trace. You knew you had to find this ethereal being, even if it meant losing yourself to this growing infatuation with a stranger.

After hours of extensive research and digging, gathering any bit of information you could on them, you came to know several things. One, their name was Mana although they preferred the seniority title Sama being added when addressed in any context. Two, no one knew how old they were, no one asked and no one knew; simple as that. Three, they played guitar in several bands in the local Visual-Kei scene hence the Gothic Lolita appearance, but the one that stuck out the most was their founding project Malice Mizer.

Your friends had played some of their stuff for you before and the name was familiar, you remembered that every time you listened you were enamored by their catchy riffs and powerful vocals. Fourth, no one really knew Mana Sama on a personal level, nor did they know how he arrived there. One day he randomly showed up and had been there ever since. What an intriguing individual indeed.

You did manage to talk to one person at a bar who had quite a lot to say about Mana Sama, though their credibility was tarnished in the scene due to a falling out with Malice Mizer. Tetsu his name was. He was an ex-vocalist for them and some say he was driven crazy by the heartbreak of his band kicking him out even though they had every reason to when it was exposed that he was stealing lyrics from bands smaller than them.

He claimed that they were all wolves in sheep's clothing, especially Mana Sama. One thing Tetsu said about Mana happened to stick with you though was his ability to lure anyone to their demise with just a look. “Beware the leeching creature of the night who lives in darkness plotting for the next glimpse of sunlight to steal selfishly for themselves, draining life from the very source.” Yikes, maybe you should stay away from people you’ve been warned about.  Friday night rolls around like clock-work, and you and your friends are yet again enjoying a weekend of fun and relaxation after another week of stressful midterms and grueling internships.

It seems that recently Mana Sama has been popping up everywhere. The media company you’re currently interning at is set to shoot the latest Malice Mizer promotion for their latest album, and somehow you’ve been appointed Creative Director of the entire thing. This means you’ll be working closely alongside the band to bring their vision of the album alive. On top of that, there was a huge V-Kei showcase happening at Yoru No Kage where one of the bands performing was Malice Mizer themselves.

This exclusive showcase was invite only and how convenient was it that one day when you got home from school there was a perfectly and elegantly wrapped black invitation to the event with your name on it. You weren't one to turn down a party, especially when someone deliberately went out of their way to invite you. When the night came to attend, you put on your sexiest attire, did your makeup better than you ever had done in your life, and you made your way to the club to have the night of your life.

The bands performing throughout the night would be Dir En Grey, Buck-Tick, Plastic Tree, X Japan, Luna Sea, L’Arc-en-Ciel, Sito Magus, and then finally Malice Mizer as a guest appearance. You watched the entirety of the show yet malice hadn't gone on yet. You were even approached by several of the different bands’ members asking for your number and to take you out on dates, you declined of course. A certain pair of golden siren eyes lingered making sure that you knew who you belonged to. You looked good, you felt even better with all the attention you were getting, but you only wanted one persons. Mana Sama's.

You prayed and hoped that tonight would be the night Mana would make themselves known to you. You wanted so badly to properly meet them and hear their voice, feel their touch, your head was spinning with thoughts of Mana. Were your feelings reciprocated? Did they feel the same thing you felt when your eyes met? Did they think of you at night too when the loneliness got to be too much for a person to handle?

Every thought had been consumed by Mana and you really hope they experienced the same as well. The lights dim, the room going dark until a single blue light shone on a beautiful lolita guitarist with golden eyes. Malice Mizer had just began their set with their latest song “Aegen” and a beautifully haunting melody flooded the room around you. Mana’s eyes were on you and they watched you through the entirety of their performance.

After their set you decided to sit at the bar and have a couple of drinks before turning in for the night. The best part was that after this you could go home and sleep all day tomorrow if you wanted. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted as a certain guitarist slid into the seat next to yours.

“heard you’ve been asking about me” they leaned over and whispered quietly into your ear sending goosebumps racing down your spine. Being aware of the fact that they’ve noticed your growing interest in them you’re quick to spew a nonchalant rebuttal.

“took you longer than expected to notice honestly” you shrug playing it off cool even thought you were a mess of nerves on the inside.

“is that so? what did you expect from me then darling?” they muttered with their blue lips curling into a mischievous smile, almost as if hyperaware of the facade you were trying to hard toupee around them.

“I expected you to make the first move” you trail off, seductively leaning closer and finding your way to their neck to whisper in their ear “word around town is that you make yourself known when you find something you want”

“You’ve done quite a bit of extensive research darling” they look at you with a glint of playfulness in their dolly eyes, almost like they were taunting you to partake in a danse macabre, a dance of death. You pull away from them to compose yourself before continuing.

“Indeed I have, so tell me Mana Sama” turning to look them directly in their eyes challenging them “Am I something you want?” Mana’s mask slips for just a second before continuing.

“If I told you I not only wanted you, but I wanted to devour your entire existence in the most romantic form of cannibalism imaginable, how likely are you to think that I don’t?” Mana takes a strand of your stray locks to push them behind your ear as you flush blood red under your makeup. How does someone even recover from something like that?

“Your gaze lingers longer than necessary and you look like you want to eat my heart out every time I walk into a room” you allow a slight giggle to slip past your delicate lips and try to find a glimpse of ulterior motives in the gorgeous guitar players eyes, unsuccessfully finding none. “I just needed to hear you say it to confirm to myself that it wasn’t a sick delusion I’ve created in my head out of loneliness. If we both feel the same way where do we go from here?”

“where do you want to go from here? I have no intention of letting you go yet, for I have just managed to grasp your heart. what happens next is up to you” Mana brings their hand to their lips to lands a kiss on your knuckles before leaving butterfly kisses on the rest of your hands. “i’m content with just keeping you for and hiding you from the rest of the world but only if you ask me to do so. the future is in your hands darling” kissing up your hands to your arm.

“I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Simple as that, we figure out the rest as we go. Is that okay with you? I want to know what it feels like to be loved by you” you search for a hint of uncomfortable energy in Mana’s current demeanor and Mana lifts their hand to cup your cheek.

“It shall be done. I wouldn’t have it any other way darling. That sounds like a plan and a perfect one at that.” leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. Mana’s golden eyes although softened still screamed danger. Who knew what the future had in store for you both together, only time would tell. Mana leans into you before placing a kiss on your lips, which you quickly reciprocate.

As the kiss intensifies and your bruising kiss turns into teeth clashing session of passion and yearning, mana begins to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, not caring who’s looking at you two. Mana hovers over your jugular before leaving an aggressive kiss, followed by an oddly painful love bite, WERE THOSE FANGS?!??

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Authors Note: Hello lovely! I hope you enjoyed this fic, I decided to take a more modern approach than nosferatu since I’m still new to writing and would rather give you quality since I knew I’d mess up anything with a historical element! I know I turned it into a whole work instead of a simple imagine but I was very excited for this request and wanted to give it a shot of turning it into a full work with room for a sequel. Hope you like it love!!! 🖤

[mysteria157]

Chapter 1

Word Count: ~ 2.3k

CW: Mentions of pregnancy, profanity

Summary: Your life comes to a startling halt when you realize the abrasive and dismissive man you shared a passionate but drunken night with is now the father of your child.

Notes: Hello! First chapter for you all. Let me know in the comments, chat or messages on what you think. A like or reblog is great too if that’s what you want. <3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Ao3 | Next Chapter

It Had To Be You Masterlist

How?

You had taken every precaution and painstakingly logged your cycle every single day. An IUD, sex during a low fertile week, and a condom to seal the deal.

And yet.

After five tests with the same result, you held onto the denial for as long as you could. The phone call from the gynecologist to confirm that yes you are pregnant, was enough to seal the earth shattering deal.

Pregnant.

This had to be a mistake. Even with your occasional trysts and short lived relationships, you didn’t have one slip up or scare. But a drunken night five weeks ago so blurry that you could barely remember seemed to have been the final straw in your streak of good luck.

The steering wheel suddenly felt incredibly hot as you gripped the leather tighter. You pressed your forehead to wheel, squeezing your eyes tight and forcing a slow breath from your lungs. The morning sun beaming into the car window was too bright, the air conditioning blowing through the vents too cold against your skin, your thoughts too incessant, too anxious, too loud.

 It wasn’t that you were against having children. At twenty-nine years old, you were coasting steady in life. Magna Cum Laude in marketing from one of the best universities in Sendai, an internship that blossomed into a full-time job, and after years of overtime and grasping every opportunity you could, you’re now a Marketing Specialist of one of the best firms in the city. You had a sizeable income from years of working hard and saving, a small but cozy house that you fixed yourself, and the freedom to actually do the things you wanted.

But this was a big step. A step that you wanted to follow a certain way if you could help it. A serious relationship, marriage, and maybe a kid or two.

Now? When you were this close to a promotion, when your mother was finally showing a modicum of pride in you, and you had your vacation planned?

It was too much, everything was too much, too intense, too fucking loud.

The sharp vibration of your cellphone the cup holder jolted you from your thoughts and back into cold, hard reality. Work. You can deal with this later.

Omelia: I got the latte you wanted and its sitting neglected on your desk. Where are you.

You're being dramatic.

Omelia: I wont be dramatic when I say no the next time you ask me for coffee.

I just parked. I’ll be right up. Keep calm until I get there.

Omelia: 🙄 

You shook out another breath, pushing away from the steering wheel and smoothing a hand down your white button up blouse.

“You can do this. It’s going to be just fine.”

By the time the elevator dinged on the thirtieth floor of the skyrise building in the middle of downtown Sendai, your nerves weren’t as frayed. The anxiety still buzzed against your skin as you walked past various cubicles, smiling kindly to your coworkers before hitting the stretch of office doors that led to your own. There were days when you wished you were in a cubicle again. It was easier to meet others and socialize, forming a small family of the same people year after year. But the more you volunteered to stay after hours to assist for projects and the more your boss recommended you for opportunities you had only dreamed of, the less you saw your coworkers. But you tried to stay engage as much as you could, eating lunch with them, going out for dinner and drinks.

But you guess that would have to change soon.

“I used my rage to reheat it for you.”

Omelia’s low and raspy voice was a welcome distraction to the current thoughts in your head as you closed the office door behind you. Perched in an office chair across from your desk, the usual silver-eyed glower from your best friend stared holes into your skin. Even petite in nature, she was the most intimidating but also the most beautiful person you had ever met. You couldn’t be envious of her. Since meeting her in second grade, she was often chased by boys. When they pulled her thick kinky hair as a means of flirting, she responded with a punch to the gut that always ended her in the office and her mother’s usual response was to take her out for ice cream instead because she shouldn’t be punished for stopping boys using violence as a means to show affection. But as you both got older, her violence morphed into carefully calculated sarcasm capable of cutting anyone down before they could do the same to her. But you were never afraid of her mean words, because when you’re the only two black females in your second grade class, you naturally gravitated to each other. And being able to gauge her emotions behind her words always helped you understand her more.

You reached for the cup and hesitated, the anxious thoughts of the effects of caffeine and fetal development flashing through your mind before you ultimately gave up.

Her eyes narrowed, silver orbs laser focused and analyzing body language as you sipped the latte, the usual caramel flavor hitting your tongue.

“Ah yes, I can still feel the rage. Thank you.”

“It’s rare when you’re late and you usually text me if you’re gonna be.”

You shrug, setting your Michael Khors purse on your desk before sagging into the ergonomic chair.

“Forgive me for my transgressions.” She rolled her eyes at your attempt of a joke, crossing elegant skirt clad legs before sighing slowly. “I know you hate mornings Ome, but this level of disappointment is rarely directed at me. What’s wrong?”

She didn’t speak for a moment, opening her mouth and closing repeatedly, full lipgloss covered lips puckering to form words before she shook out another disappointed sigh.

“I’m sorry. Just boyfriend troubles and I’m taking it out on everyone I see. I’m so close to just dumping the fucker.”

“Then do it?”

It was no lie that Ome had more than had it with her three year on again-off again relationship. Years of short lived jobs, lack of interest in her or her family, and the latest cheating stint, she was ready to call it quits. But why she hasn’t, you’ll never know.

Maybe she doesn’t want to be alone. Having stone walls around you for most of your life will do that you imagine.

You hesitated again before taking another sip.

How much caffeine is too much? 50 mg? 200?? Your stomach lurched painfully, the sharp pang of nausea making your mouth water. You’ve been drinking three cups of coffee every day for the past five weeks.

Oh God.

“Y/n.” Ome’s voice rang in you ear, cutting through the loud echo of thoughts. Her gaze was less harsh this time, concern softening her ethereal features. “You good?”

You smiled at her, pushing the coffee away.

“I’m good.”

***

It turns out that you in fact were not good. Because every little thing seemed to send your mind into a frenzy. You spaced out at every meeting as you thought about just all you needed to prepare for.

College fund. Daycare. Medical care. Baby clothes. Furniture (baby furniture?). Telling your fucking mother.

You couldn’t eat your salad because you were curled over your phone instead, googling every ingredient to make sure nothing was toxic.

You couldn’t look your coworkers in the eye because you could feel the waves of irrationality in your mind as you imagined their disgusted filled stares as they looked at your stomach.

No matter where you went or what you did, everything seemed to set your mind off.

How much do babies even cost?

The thought made you groan softly, your stomach taking what felt like the millionth backflip of the day.

“Are you alright?”

You blinked, face heating instantly in embarrassment as you looked up at your boss. Jin Itadori’s glasses sat perched on his nose as he looked at you curiously, dark brown eyes soft but filled with concern.

“I-I’m. Yes, I’m alright. Sorry it’s been a weird day. I meant no disrespect, Itadori-san.”

He chuckled in reply, hands folding on his desk as he smiled softly at you. Jin was probably the nicest boss ever. He was always soft smiles, an even softer voice, and a demeanor that made others relax instead of stiffening in his presence. But despite his demeanor, he had revamped the entire marketing department fresh out of college, brought in triple the revenue the company had ever seen, and usurped the previous boss’ position in less than three years to become Director of Marketing Operations for the Sendai branch. He was serious about his work and refused to let anyone walk over him or his colleagues. And he was one of the few people who didn’t judge you by how you looked and instead admired your work ethic, your personality, and your goals.

So to zone out in the middle of a one on one with him was completely out of character.

“You’re not disrespecting me. You’re always so formal, please relax. I can tell you have a lot on your mind. Do you need to take a few days off?”

You shook your head. “No sir. Or at least I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know.”

He pursed his lips before looking down at his planner. “Well, what I was saying is that our latest project will be our heaviest yet. It’s going to take a lot of work, a lot of attention to detail and therefore collaboration with others outside of our company. The branch in Tokyo that held the annual summit a few weeks ago has reached out and would like to be included.”

Ice cold water felt like it had been doused down your back, your nerves jolting in shock. Of all the branches, why Tokyo? Niigata’s branch was good. Albeit, not as big and popular and well known as Tokyo, but still good.

“We’ve projected about a year from start to finish. I wanted to visit Tokyo next week to begin initial talks, create a plan, statements of work, you know the whole spiel. I want you there.”

The anxiety washed away for just a second, your heart pumping at yet another opportunity to get your foot in the door.

“Of course. I would be honored to be apart of this sir.”

“Yaga was especially impressed with your work ethic last month and insists on your presence.” He smiled again at you, his kindness radiating off his skin and made your shoulders relax slightly. “You’re a great person on this team and I wouldn’t have anyone else. I’ll have details to you by end of day.”

***                                              

Your happiness had slowly melted away by the time you made if back to your office and sagged into your chair.

It was a great opportunity. The assistant to the leader of a large multiple branch project? The best thing to come into your lap in a while.

You’ve worked so hard for this. Another step closer.

But the fear of your future, the anxiety of something you had no contingency plan for, the frustration and sadness of having to do this alone was just too palpable to ignore.

Meetings that you would have to reschedule because of OB appointments. Money that you would have to rearrange to plan for a life you didn’t intend to nourish this soon. Disappointment that you would have to swallow from Jin when you told him that you would have to take maternity leave and someone else would have to fill your place.

It was too much. You’re not ready. You’re not fucking ready.

The door to your office opened before you could have another thought.

“Oh my god, if he texts me again I’m going to fucking scream y/n—” Ome paused, her hand on the doorknob as she looked at you softly. “Why are you crying?”

You reached for your face quickly, fingers touching the wetness on your cheeks before you pulled them away to look at the tears on your fingertips. Ome closed the door softly and walked to you, her hand resting on the side of your neck.

“Tell me.”

You should have said something as soon as you walked in the office this morning. You could never go long without telling her your thoughts. But from the moment you hung up the phone with the gynecologist in your car until right now, you’ve been on auto pilot. So much turbulence, but on auto-pilot all the same.

Your vision blurred as you looked up at her, her face distorted through your tears.

“I’m pregnant.”

Finally saying it out loud seemed to be the final nail in the coffin as you hiccupped harshly and broke down in front of her. She knelt down immediately, pulling you into her embrace and pressing your face into her blouse as you sobbed loudly into the soft fabric.

Accidents happen and you can never truly be prepared for a pregnancy. You wouldn’t get rid of it. While you weren’t against that choice, the thought of doing so only made you feel worse. But you thought you would at least be with someone when the surprise came.

But that one drunken night five weeks ago changed everything. His glares during a night out with coworkers were dulled by the many shots of sake you took and started the course of a path you didn’t even want to imagine him being the catalyst of.

Because the first day you met him, he was quick to judge and cut you down with words that made you swear you would never foster a stupid work crush again.

Of all the men it could have been.

It had to be Nanami fucking Kento.

[italljustkindahappened2]

I’ve lost hope on my other account (rip @italljustkindahappened🫡) but it’s okay I’ll just take the opportunity to reintroduce myself and repost my info here!

Hi, I’m Jay, I’m 20 (she/her) and I just recently got into Henry Danger after it blew up again. My favorite character is Henry bc I relate to him A LOT, and my fav ship is Chenry. I’m open to other ships (esp Hensper) unless they’re just straight up weird *cough cough henray*. I’ve also watched Danger Force, and my fav character is Bose (haha can you see a similarity in why I relate to those characters) and fav ship is Bomika, although again I’m open to other ships (just not Bapa tbh😅).

Here’s a list of my HD headcanons (updated when I think of something new):

1. Charlotte is the only one who bothered to learn Dystopian- the boys just guess and use translating apps

2. Henry and Charlotte go on little “dates” but they insist it’s as friends.. everyone knows that’s not true

2a. Jasper always insists on coming with them on these dates (oblivious to the fact that they are dates since they tell him it’s not a date) and sometimes they’re nice and let him come with them but they also sneak away when he’s not looking

3. Jasper and Henry share an apartment, Charlotte’s internship/scholarship paid for an apartment for her so she lives alone- piper stays with her when she’s visiting

3a. Both the boys are SHIT at cooking, so they invite Charlotte over every night to “hang out.” She knows that it’s because they want her to cook for them but she just does it so often it becomes routine.. until she moves away and their meals become.. interesting.. since they don’t get paid enough for their crime fighting to get take out often.

4. Sometimes Henry gets nightmares of when he was “dying”/ when his missions went wrong so he has a hard time sleeping

4a. When Jasper hears Henry screaming or waking up from his nightmares, he always rushes over to his room and comforts him until they both fall back asleep.. sometimes he gets in Henry’s bed and he just hugs/ cuddles him

4b. Henry has a harder time when Charlotte leaves for school bc she was MUCH better at calming him down from his anxiety and panic attacks than Jasper (although Jasper tries his best). They become more frequent and uncontrollable and he sometimes isolates himself, making Jasper worry.

4c. Ray also has nightmares, but it’s a recurring one of Henry dying on a mission when he was young. He wants to be seen as this “manly independent” man, so he doesn’t really entrust this information to anyone (unless you count credenza later but that’s technically DF). Schwoz sometimes comes in early to work on a project and hears it happening, sometimes comforting him back into a restful sleep without Ray waking up or figuring out it is Schwoz helping him.

5. Schwoz comes and visits in Dystopia when he’s not busy with DF but Ray doesn’t as much.. Schwoz goes on about DF and how cool they are- but you can tell he misses the ogs

6. For Halloween once, Ray dressed as Batman, Henry as Robin, Charlotte as Starfire, Jasper as beast boy, and Piper as Raven

7. When Jasper brought home his first boyfriend, Henry starting acting very jealous, trying to one up his actions and compliment himself- that was when he realized he was bi

8. Sometimes when Charlotte and Henry are alone on the couch, she runs her hand on his chest and back, pointing to each of the scars and asking him to tell the story of how he got it. She never gets tired of hearing the stories.

9. Their main types of love language:

Henry: acts of service and quality time

Charlotte: words of affirmation and acts of service

Jasper: gift giving and quality time

Ray: words of affirmation and acts of service

10. Henry and Charlotte def kissed each other after the “I dream of danger” events… they wanted to see what they really felt about each other but never really figured it out until after the last episode’s blimp incident/ them moving to Dystopia

11. When they were younger, Henry and Charlotte definitely did the “when we’re older I’m gonna marry you” fake proposal with a fake little ring (prob a ring pop)- they both pretend they forgot about it but they remember it very clearly

12. Henry is a Virgo. He is hardworking, sassy, committed to his job and his friends (he’s basically me)

—————————

Piper: Lesbian

Charlotte: Pan and/or Demi

Henry: Bi (don’t argue with me on this one)

Jasper: Gay

Schwoz: Trans and gay

Ray: Token straight BUT you can argue bi to me and I’ll listen

—————————

My Chenry playlist:

My Reddit:

[delusional-through-and-through]

WINDOW 💥

1. 2. 3.

PROJECT → LIBRARY → WINDOW

Kanata and Bakugou grew more closer to each other, even if neither of them openly acknowledged it.

During the weekdays, they balanced their busy schedules with regular classes and internships, they often come back to the dorms too exhausted to do much more than jot down a few notes for their project.

As a result, their weekends became the prime time for focusing on completing their research.

It was a routine they had been following for the past one and a half month, and it had become surprisingly comfortable for both of them.

Mitsuki, of course, adored Kanata’s presence and often took the opportunity to have tea with her. They still always poked fun at old pictures of Bakugou, much to his irritation.

“Hey, Katsuki,” Kanata said, holding up a photo of a younger Bakugou wearing a frilly apron. “What were you doing here, baking cookies?”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Bakugou snapped, snatching the photo away.

Mitsuki laughed, sipping her tea. “That was for his kindergarten’s cultural day. He cried when I made him wear that!”

“I DIDN’T CRY!” Bakugou growled, his ears turning red.

Kanata smirked. “Aw, I can almost see the tears from here.”

Bakugou shot her a glare. “Keep running your mouth, Braids, and I’ll throw you out the window.”

“Try me then.” Kanata shot back with a cheeky grin.

................

Later that day, Kanata is working in Bakugou’s room, typing out notes. Before she realized it, her eyelids grew heavy, and she dozed off, her head resting on the table.

When Bakugou returned with a tray of water, Mitsuki was behind him, carrying a tray of snacks. Both of them paused when they saw Kanata sleeping soundly.

Mitsuki grinned mischievously. “You know, Katsuki, I’ve decided, I want her as my daughter-in-law. No one else will do. She's the only one I'll accept."

Bakugou groaned in annoyance, setting the tray on another table. “Shut it, old hag. You’re annoying.”

Mitsuki leaned closer, her grin widening. “You’re my son. Where’s your usual bravado? Grow some guts and ask her out.”

To her surprise, Bakugou whispered under his breath, “I know that already....”

Mitsuki’s eyes gleamed. “What was that? Did my stubborn son just admitted something?”

“Get out!” Bakugou barked, pushing her out of the room as she cackled her way down the hall.

Once she was gone, Bakugou sighed, grabbed a blanket, and draped it over Kanata’s shoulders.

“Tch. Dumbass fell asleep in the middle of work." He sits on his bed pulling out a manga to read while she slept.

..............

The sun was setting when Bakugou glanced at the clock and noticed Kanata was still asleep. He set down his manga and walked over to her.

“Oi, wake up,” he said, poking her shoulder lightly.

Kanata mumbled, “Five more minutes…” and buried her face in her arms.

Bakugo’s brow twitched in irritation. Without a second thought, he grabbed her cheeks and tugged it. “Wake up already, idiot!”

Kanata groaned, blinking her eyes open.

When her gaze landed on Bakugo’s face hovering close to hers, she blinked a few more times before muttering, “I just saw one hell of a nightmare.”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What was it?”

Kanata smirked sleepily. “Your face.”

Bakugou scowled. “What the hell did you just say?!”

She stretched lazily, ignoring his reaction. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, you don't."

..............

Bakugou packed Kanata’s belongings, carefully placing her notebook and pens into her bag before slinging it over his shoulder. With a sigh, he turned to Kanata, who was still rubbing her eyes and yawning.

He then grabbed her hand to guide her as she sluggishly made her way down the stairs, grumbling under her breath about still being half-asleep. When they reached the living room, she bid farewell to his parents.

“Thank you for having me again.” Kanata said politely, giving Mitsuki and Masaru a slight bow.

Mitsuki’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the fact that Bakugou is holding Kanata’s hand.

She smirked, giving her son a knowing glance that made his scowl deepen.

“Come on, let’s go,” Bakugou grumbled, dragging Kanata toward the door, before his mother could say anything else embarrassing.

...............

As they walked toward the station, Bakugou is still holding her hand, Kanata raised an eyebrow. “You know, this is becoming a habit of yours.” she teased, gesturing toward their joined hands.

“Tch, what are you talking about?” Bakugou grumbled, not letting go.

“I mean, you keep holding my hand.” Kanata pointed out with a sly grin.

Bakugou's face turned into a scowled. “It’s not a habit, dumbass. I’m just making sure you don’t trip or something.”

Kanata laughed softly. “Oh? So you’re saying I’m clumsy now?”

“Yeah, you are,” he shot back, glaring at her. “You nearly faceplanted this morning when you walked into my desk.”

Kanata laughed, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. “Fine, fine. Keep making excuses, gentleman.”

He didn’t reply, but his grip on her hand remained firm as they walked.

A few minutes later, Bakugou stopped abruptly, shrugged off his jacket, and threw it at her. “Here, take this. It’s cold.”

Kanata caught the jacket, blinking in surprise. “You’re giving me your jacket? What’s the catch?”

“Just wear it, idiot. I don’t need you whining about freezing to death.” he snapped, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You’re really full of surprises today, huh?” She slipped it on, savoring the warmth. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

He rolled his eyes but grabbed her hand again once she finished adjusting the jacket.

Kanata raised an eyebrow again, unable to resist teasing him. “There you go again. Are you sure it’s not a habit?”

Bakugou clicked his tongue and looked straight ahead. “Shut up and keep walking.”

Kanata chuckled softly, feeling a strange sense of comfort as they walked hand in hand toward the station, the silence between them oddly companionable.

................

Kanata arrived at Bakugou's house the next weekend, a little late because she had overslept. As soon as she stepped inside, Bakugou gave her a pointed glare. “Why the hell are you late?” he demanded.

Kanata shrugged, dropping her bag onto the floor. “I overslept,” she admitted. “Our schedule’s been so hectic lately, I barely get enough.”

................

As Kanata skim through the stack of notes, jotting down key points for their research, she couldn’t help but notice Bakugou’s frequent glances in her direction.

“I know I'm a sight to behold, Bakugou, but if you’re not going to say something, I’m going to start getting creeped out.” Bakugou’s pencil stilled.

Kanata asked. “So? Do you have something to say, or are you just practicing your glaring technique?”

After a moment of silence, Bakugou took a deep breath, his voice come out unusually quiet. “Will you go out with me?”

Kanata blinked, looking up from the paper to meet his gaze. She tilted her head innocently and answered. “Sure... but where to?”

Bakugou stared at her, clearly unimpressed by her response. The room fell silent.

Without saying another word, he stood up, towering over her. “Stand up.”

“Why?”

Confused, Kanata complied. But before she could ask further questions, Bakugou, without a warning grabbed her and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?!” Kanata shrieked, struggling against his grip.

He stomped over to the window, yanked it open, and leaned out.

“You’re going out." Bakugou said nonchalantly, trying to shake her loose.

“Are you insane?! You're seriously throwing me out? I’ll die!” she yelled grabbing onto the window frame to resist.

“With your quirk, you’ll be fine,” Bakugou muttered, still trying to toss her out.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Kanata said, still clinging to the frame for her dear life.

Suddenly, she paused as a realization hit her. “Wait… when you said go out, did you mean like.... be in a relationship?”

Bakugou paused, then sighed. He pulled her back inside and set her down. “Yeah.” His voice was low, almost embarrassed.

Kanata stared at him for a moment before a sly grin spread across her face. "Well, well. It can’t be helped. I mean, look at me. I'm adorable, charming, and downright irresistible!"

She clasped her hands dramatically. "You’ve got excellent taste, Bakugou!"

Her smug monologue was cut short as Bakugou picked her up again and slung her over his shoulder.

“That’s it. I’m throwing you out for real this time.” he grumbled, heading back to the window.

“PUT ME DOWN!” Kanata yelled, kicking her legs.

As the commotion continued, Mitsuki entered the room, raising an eyebrow at the sight of her son trying to toss Kanata out the window.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, amused.

“Auntie! Help me! Your son’s trying to throw me out the window!” Kanata plead dramatically.

Mitsuki chuckled. “Ahh~ young love. You two have so much energy. Carry on!” With that, she walked away, leaving Kanata looking utterly betrayed.

“You’re just going to leave?!” Kanata yelled after her. "Your mom just abandoned me!” she wailed at Bakugou.

Bakugou smirked. “Guess no one’s coming to save you, Braids.”

Kanata glared at him. “Seriously? You literally just confessed a minute ago and now you're trying to toss me out. Is this how you treat the girl you’re asking out?”

“Only because she started spouting nonsense" Bakugou replied, glaring right back.

Kanata, refusing to go down without a fight, grabbed a handful of Bakugou’s hair and yanked it. “Fine! But if I’m going down, I’m taking you with me!”

Bakugou winced, trying to pry her hands away. “Let go, you psycho!”

“Not until you put me down!” she retorted.

Their chaotic tug-of-war continued until Mitsuki returned with a camera.

“This is going in the family album.” she declared, snapping pictures while laughing hysterically.

Kanata paused mid-tug as she noticed Mitsuki standing there, camera in hand, grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

Kanata, still slung over Bakugou’s shoulder, hands still on his hair, sighed dramatically. “Well, great. Now this is immortalized."

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Mitsuki said, snapping another picture. "Keep going. Pretend I’m not here.”

Kanata gave up, waving a hand toward Mitsuki. “Fine, take all the pictures you want. But please make sure you capture my good side—I don’t want to look bad in my inevitable humiliation.”

"Don't you worry." She said. “This’ll be perfect for your wedding slideshow.”

Bakugou groaned, his ears turning red. “Old hag, get out of here!”

Mitsuki ignored him and looked directly at Kanata. “So, kid, are you saying yes to this idiot or not? I need to know whether to prepare a wedding album next.”

Kanata chuckled, propping her chin on Bakugou’s shoulder casually. “I don’t know, Auntie. Should I? It’s a big responsibility dating someone with anger management issues.”

Bakugou turned his head, glaring at her. “Oi, I’m right here.”

Kanata looked at him. "But seriously, if this is your idea of a romantic confession, it sucks.”

She then pat his back like she was consoling him. “But, you know what? Sure. Why not?"

Bakugou froze for a moment, his grip on her tightening slightly before he muttered something under his breath, clearly embarrassed.

She turned to Mitsuki. "Auntie! Congratulations on securing me as your daughter-in-law!”

Mitsuki burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “She’s perfect, Katsuki! You finally found someone who can handle your crap!”

Kanata casually shrugged. “What can I say? I’m built different."

Mitsuki smiled. “Oh, I like you more and more, Kanata. Welcome to the family, kid.”

Bakugou, flustered and annoyed, finally put Kanata down. “Shut up, both of you!”

As Mitsuki finally left them alone, muttering something about wedding preparations, Kanata turned back to Bakugou, her tone suddenly softer but still playful. “So, how’s it feel to be stuck with me?”

Bakugou look away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I already regret it.”

Kanata grinned at him. “Liar, now can we get back to work? We still got a project to finish, boyfriend.”

previously¿

[skilliqcourse]

Internships and Live Projects: A Practical Approach to Skill Development

In the fast-paced landscape of today's professional world, theoretical knowledge alone is often insufficient. Employers seek candidates with practical skills and real-world experience. This is where internships and live projects come into play, serving as invaluable platforms for skill development and career readiness.

Hands-On Learning 

Internships and Live Projects provide a hands-on learning experience that textbooks simply cannot replicate. Whether you're a student looking to apply classroom theories or a recent graduate entering the workforce, these opportunities immerse you in the practical aspects of your field. This exposure is a catalyst for skill development.

Application of Theoretical Knowledge 

Classroom education lays the foundation, but it is in the real-world scenarios of internships and live projects where this knowledge is tested and refined. The practical application of theories not only deepens understanding but also fosters critical thinking and problem-solving skills.

Adaptability and Resilience 

The unpredictable nature of live projects mimics the challenges of the professional world. Navigating uncertainties, adapting to changing circumstances, and overcoming obstacles are crucial skills that can only be honed through real-life experiences. Internships provide a controlled environment to develop resilience and adaptability.

Networking Opportunities 

Internships and live projects offer unique opportunities to build a professional network. Working alongside experienced professionals, you not only gain insights into industry practices but also create connections that may prove instrumental in future career endeavors. Networking is an essential aspect of career growth, and internships lay the foundation for it.

Conclusion:

Internships and Live Projects are not merely checkboxes in a career checklist; they are transformative experiences that shape individuals into competent and adaptable professionals. SkillIQ Lite opens the door to practical skill development through curated Internships and Live Projects. Tailored for those seeking a streamlined yet impactful experience, this program is your gateway to hands-on learning.

[simsaddictreasure]

Phaerah’s Fresh Start

Phaerah stepped off the bus and onto the bustling streets of Sims City, her heart racing with excitement. At 23, she had finally taken the leap, moving away from her quiet hometown to chase her dreams of becoming an interior designer.

With a sleek portfolio tucked under her arm and a mind bursting with creative ideas, she knew this city held endless opportunities. She had already secured a tiny but charming apartment in the Arts District—nothing fancy, but with her designer’s touch, it would soon be a masterpiece.

Her first stop? Luxe & Co. Interiors, a high-end firm known for crafting breathtaking spaces. She had emailed them weeks ago, hoping to land an internship, but never heard back. So, she decided to take a bold step—walking in and introducing herself in person.

The glass doors slid open, revealing a modern showroom filled with luxurious furniture and mood boards pinned to the walls. Phaerah took a deep breath, adjusted her blazer, and approached the receptionist.

"Hi, my name is Phaerah, and I’d love the opportunity to show my work to Mr. Calloway."

The receptionist raised an eyebrow. "Do you have an appointment?"

Phaerah smiled. "Not exactly. But I believe great design speaks for itself." She pulled out her tablet and swiped through images of her past projects—cozy café remodels, stylish living spaces, and an eco-friendly office design that won her college’s design challenge.

A deep voice interrupted. "Interesting work."

She turned to see a well-dressed man—James Calloway, the firm’s head designer.

"Come to my office," he said. "Let’s talk."

Phaerah’s heart soared. This was her moment. Sims City was just the beginning, and she was ready to make her mark.

[theduchessofboredom]

🛫 Distance - Chapter 4 🛬

Well, that has only taken ages 🙃 This chapter has been released in German for months actually, but I made such good progress with my other projects that translating kinda fell off the plate a bit 😅 But here we go now!

Chap. 4: April II (Back on course)

As usual with a little snippet ⬇️

The sound of the front door opening snapped him out of his brief trance and shortly afterwards, as expected, his little brother trudged into the kitchen. “Hey Seto, sorry, we were still at the Black Clown.” The name of the store felt like a stab in his chest, but he didn't get a chance to dwell on it. “Someone new was there,” Mokuba simply kept going, “from another school, really cool and really good at DDM and Capsule Monsters, so we lost track of time a bit. Besides, I wasn't expecting you, wasn't the conference call about the new factory supposed to be today?” Another heavy hit, right in the pit of the stomach.  Since Seto didn't answer immediately, Mokuba simply continued to think aloud, “Come to think of it, this is already the …,” the boy turned his eyes to the ceiling while apparently counting down the weeks in his head, “... the third time in a row that the call has been canceled.” Like the raging waves of a storm surge, memories of Duke and what they used to do on these evenings broke into Seto's mind – something that unfortunately still happened far too often, even three weeks after their last … meeting. “Seto?” He winced slightly and banished the images and feelings back behind their invisible dams with a barely noticeable shake of his head. “We ... didn't get permission to build it. Besides, the costs would have probably exploded anyway. That's why I ... put an end to the whole thing.” That tug in his chest again.

Chapter word count: 6465

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) Rating: General Audiences  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Relationships: Kaiba Seto/Otogi Ryuuji | Duke Devlin  Characters: Kaiba Seto, Otogi Ryuuji | Duke Devlin, Kaiba Mokuba, Pegasus J. Crawford | Maximillion Pegasus, Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler, Isono | Roland, Original Characters  Additional Tags: Mastershipping - Freeform, Long Shot, POV Third Person, POV Kaiba Seto, POV Duke Devlin, Interns & Internships, Long-Distance Relationship, Los Angeles, Romance, Drama, Sequel  Series: Part 2 of Common Ground Summary: 

Five months after the fateful school trip, Seto and Duke are still seeing each other regularly without the most important people in their lives knowing about it. The thing-with-us is good the way it is – who cares what it actually means? But their time at school is drawing to a close and ultimately, what Seto has secretly feared for a long time happens: Duke is offered a six-month internship at Industrial Illusions, opening him all the doors to a successful career as a game designer – an offer he can't possibly refuse. However, the journey back to the other side of the Pacific is not just an opportunity for Duke. While he has to confront the demons of the past, Seto has to ask himself whether his own future is really as clearly mapped out as he always assumed.

[bon2bonn]

To be yours D.R #3

Daniel Ricciardo X female!reader

Bebe wake up!! The office coworkers au is here!

Warnings : no proof reading , grammar,*Title might change🤷🏻‍♀️.

This lives rent-free in my head!!!! I need to get it out .

First and foremost let's get some background info! .

So our girl is in Management .

Graduated top of her class with honour and all .

Got internship in one of the top international business companies since sophomore year.

"Work hard , don't take shit from nobody" kind of girl .

So after graduating that secured her an opportunity right away .

So started off working , expanding both her relations and knowledge in the business world beside working on a couple of masters and a PhD on the making.

So for a couple of years it was a steady progress up the ranks .

Up until she scored Project Manager.

Which is A lot of work and commitment but she got it covered .

And as a PM she interact with and overseas members from other departments for every project and so she's well known and respected as a leader and a colleague .

Her team members likes to call her the Boss lady , when the work is due you better do your job well or boy you're in for a ride .

But that don't mean she's an uptight controlling bit#@ ordering people around .

She could be seen chatting with other employees and even the internship students , giving advice when asked , boosting energy when needed , and giving praise to who deserves .

That doesn't mean the b+_£#'s won't be around trying to be a pain .

But we know how to deal with that .

Anyway .

As It's said PM works with and supervise other departments depending on the project in progress.

So !!!!!

In came our Danny boy .

With that sharp suit and curly curles and THAT smile .

I mean look at him ! .

Sir !!! that's illegal to look this good and be that good ! .

Everyone knows Danny .

And everyone adores him .

Or/and have a crush on him .

He applied for the job just for kicks but now he got a full-time position so that is that .

But that don't mean he's going to slack in getting the work done efficiently .

He shift through several departments so almost everyone is familiar with him .

Went from working in Finances to Marketing to HR before settling back to Marketing .

He worked on many projects with our girl's department in general and within her team on several occasions when needed .

Both know eachother well as colleagues and their work dynamic is unmatched .

That didn't happen overnight but they got there eventually .

He got a calm and relaxed layed back approach , while she got the organized thoroughly planed approach so they often clash on small details , but you can always see that geddy smile on Danny's face whenever he got on her nerves .

Meetings with him are a nightmare .

And let's not forget about him terrorising the innocent interns on the daily .

If you see him skipping down the hall humming happily know that he accomplished his daily routine of provoking her , and somewhere else she's plotting to throw him in a ditch .

Just kidding .

Or not .

But he always gets her her favourite drink with small packets of cookies and sweets so he's safe for now .

So that's it for now .

[rdiasrohini]

Unlock Your Future with Top BBA and MBA Colleges in GGSIPU

One of the best MBA, BBA, and B.Com (H) programs in management education, colleges affiliated with Guru Gobind Singh Indraprastha University (GGSIPU) are excellent choices for future business professionals due to their high calibre and reasonable cost. These top colleges provide a strong academic foundation emphasizing fundamental business concepts taught by knowledgeable instructors with years of experience in the field.

These best colleges are unique in that they emphasise practical learning. College students gain valuable insight into real-world corporate contexts through internships, industry visits, and live projects. Pre-placement offers (PPOs), which improve career prospects even before graduation, are often a result of this practical experience.

Due to their reputation for reasonable tuition costs, colleges affiliated with GGSIPU are preferred over many private universities. With specialisations in finance, marketing, human resources, international business, and other areas, the curriculum is in line with contemporary business demands and enables students to customise their education to meet certain professional objectives.

Additionally, these percentage-based college programs hone important soft skills that employers strongly respect, such as critical thinking, leadership, and communication. Networking opportunities with professionals and alumni further enhance career growth.

Checking admissions to MBA, BBA, and BCom (H) programs at the best colleges of GGSIPU can be a game-changer for students looking for a career-focused and values-driven education. Graduates are well-equipped to thrive in the tough corporate world thanks to their strong academic background and real-world business knowledge.

[12surajkumar]

Top MBA Schools in India Your Career Starts with the Right College

When it comes to shaping a successful career in business and management, selecting the right MBA school is the most critical first step. In India, where the competition is intense and the corporate world is evolving rapidly, an MBA from a top-tier business school offers the knowledge, network, and placement opportunities to help you excel.

In this guide, we explore the top MBA schools in India and show how each institution serves as a launchpad for a high-impact career.

Why Choosing the Right MBA College Matters

A reputed MBA college doesn't just give you a degree—it offers:

🎓 World-class education from experienced faculty

🌐 Industry exposure through internships, guest lectures, and live projects

🤝 Powerful alumni networks that open doors globally

💼 High placement potential with leading companies

🌍 International opportunities through exchange programs and global immersions

Top MBA Schools in India (2025 Edition)

Here’s a curated list of the best MBA schools in India known for academic excellence, top-notch placements, and cutting-edge curriculums.

1. Indian Institute of Management Ahmedabad (IIMA)

Ranking: #1 consistently across major rankings

Average CTC: ₹35.5 LPA

Top Recruiters: McKinsey, BCG, Goldman Sachs

Why Choose IIMA:

Premier case-study-based learning model

Global recognition (EQUIS & AACSB accreditations)

100% placement with high international offers

2. Indian Institute of Management Bangalore (IIMB)

Location: Bangalore – India’s Silicon Valley

Average CTC: ₹33 LPA

Best For: Tech, consulting, and entrepreneurship

Standout Features:

Strong linkages with the corporate and startup ecosystem

Global immersion programs

Active alumni mentorship and leadership development

3. Indian Institute of Management Calcutta (IIMC)

Specialty: Finance and analytics

Average CTC: ₹34 LPA

Top Recruiters: JP Morgan, Barclays, BCG

Highlights:

Internationally renowned faculty

Finance-focused curriculum

Ivy-league level placement results

4. Indian School of Business (ISB), Hyderabad & Mohali

Program: One-year PGP

Average CTC: ₹30 LPA

Unique Strengths:

Globally diverse peer group

Industry-focused curriculum

Excellent for experienced professionals

5. XLRI – Xavier School of Management, Jamshedpur

Popular Programs: PGDM in HRM and Business Management

Average Package: ₹29 LPA

Why XLRI?

Pioneer in Human Resource Management

Excellent leadership development

Ethical business focus and social impact initiatives

6. International Institute of Business Studies (IIBS)

Program: MBA, PGDM, Finance ,Business Analytics

Average Package: ₹8.7 LPA

Why IIBS?

Located near International Airport , Bangalore’s

Well-rounded curriculum

Active placement cell with strong corporate connections

International student exchange options

7. Faculty of Management Studies (FMS), Delhi University

USP: Affordable MBA with top-tier ROI

Average Package: ₹27 LPA

Fee: Less than ₹2 lakhs

Recruiters: Google, Bain & Co., Microsoft

What Sets It Apart:

Best ROI in the country

Government-aided institution with stellar placements

8. SP Jain Institute of Management and Research (SPJIMR), Mumbai

Strengths: Supply chain, operations, family business

Average Salary: ₹25 LPA

Program Innovation:

Global fast-track programs

Value-based learning and social internships

9. Management Development Institute (MDI), Gurgaon

Known For: Marketing, Strategy, and HR

Avg. Package: ₹24 LPA

Placement Highlights:

Regular recruiters include Reckitt, Coca-Cola, Accenture

Proximity to NCR makes it ideal for consulting and FMCG roles

10. Indian Institute of Foreign Trade (IIFT), Delhi & Kolkata

Focus: International Business

Average CTC: ₹23 LPA

Top Recruiters: EXIM Bank, Olam International, Deloitte

International Edge:

Trade specialization curriculum

Strong foreign placement track record

11. NMIMS School of Business Management, Mumbai

Specializations: Finance, Analytics, Pharma Management

Average CTC: ₹20 LPA

Placement Strengths:

Extensive recruiter base from Mumbai's corporate sector

Good choice for freshers and working professionals alike

Honorable Mentions – Emerging B-Schools with Excellent Potential

1. TAPMI, Manipal

Strong emphasis on business analytics and finance

Accredited by AACSB

2. Great Lakes Institute of Management, Chennai

One-year and two-year PGPM/MBA programs

Focus on analytics and AI-driven management

3. IMI Delhi

Centrally located, globally connected

Strong ROI and growing placement stats

4. IBS Hyderabad

Among the largest MBA programs in India

Extensive alumni and recruiter network

How to Choose the Right MBA School in India

Before applying, consider these key selection factors:

Accreditations & Rankings

Check for global accreditations like AACSB, AMBA, EQUIS, and top-tier NIRF/FT rankings.

Specialization Fit

Choose a B-school aligned with your career goals—be it in Finance, Marketing, HR, Analytics, or Entrepreneurship.

Placements & Internships

Look at average CTC, highest package, and top recruiters

Check if summer internships are guaranteed

Location & Industry Interface

Metro cities like Mumbai, Bangalore, Delhi, and Hyderabad provide better exposure

Proximity to corporates enhances live project opportunities

Alumni Network

Strong alumni connections = better mentorship & career growth

Alumni often open doors to referrals and global opportunities

Final Thoughts: Begin Your MBA Journey with the Right Choice

In India, an MBA is more than a qualification—it's a career-transforming experience. The top MBA schools listed here are not only institutions of academic excellence but also gateways to leadership, innovation, and global success.

Your career starts with the right college. Choose wisely, aim high, and let your MBA journey elevate your future.

[kale-of-the-forbidden-cities]

KotLC OC tournament info post - 18/24

Ariadne Varil

Name: Ariadne Varil

Species: Elf

Gender/Pronouns: she/her

Creator: Swan @an-ungraceful-swan

Short desc: Ariadne is a former/partially retired Council informant who grew up as part of the nobility. After going to exillium on an assignment as a coach she fell for an actual coach. Ensue a messy breakup as her intentions are revealed which she’s still not over

Backstory: Ariadne Varil was born into a lower noble family, as the middle of her siblings, never quite old enough to run with her older sister’s friends, most of whom were in the elite levels by the time she started tutoring, and too reserved to ever really fall in with her brother’s friends, all of whom were menaces in their own right, despite being only a year younger than her. She manifested quite young as a flasher, though never had much talent in her ability and excelled more in her other classes and areas of study. Her father was a low ranking regent, but his meager connections were enough to get her an internship type job going into the elite levels, working under the then Emissary Clarette.

As her education became more focused, she took more classes focused on politics and history, and had quite an affinity for seeing through the glitz and glamor in the upper echelons of the elven world and being able to analyze what it was and understand people’s positions. When she graduated she officially became an assistant to an older Emissary, one who’d long since established himself at the crux of Elven politics, though continued discrete communication and under the table work for Clarrette. She was never especially close with her family, and moved to an apartment in Atlantis nearly immediately after graduating. Her matching was handled as a quiet affair, she simply got her list, sat down for dinner with the eligible suitors, and talked it through with them. She never saw it as anything other than a necessary part of maintaining her status among the nobility and blending into the masses, and made that fact quite clear to her potential spouses. She eventually married her husband, though they continued living separately, leading their own lives and really only presenting as a couple when strictly necessary, especially for the first hundred years or so of their marriage. They each had their own aspirations and affiliations, and that was quite enough for them.

She was just over 200 years old when Clarette became a councillor, and she had been serving as a regent for some time. Her role got elevated to that of an Emissary and she was trusted with her first more important project than simply passing along the little whispers she could scrounge up. Without any official ways to keep track of elves that had either left or been banished from larger society, she went simply to gather information in one of the larger communities, posing as someone who had become disillusioned with the Lost Cities and couldn’t “stay in their crystal palaces” anymore. The plan had been to stay for a century, long enough to engrain herself and pass along valuable information, but it got cut short when her cover was blown less than halfway through her assignment. She managed to get out and return home, but not before picking up some rather obvious scarring. Ariadne moved in with her husband for the first extended period of time, and took quite a bit of time to herself, recuperating on her new estate that she’d been absent from up until that point. She was a bit conflicted, after all despite her unfortunate parting spending time away from the Lost Cities had been eye opening to her and it was odd being back without anyone to really talk about what she’d seen. It’s why when she was presented with the opportunity to work on another longer term mission, this time based in Exilium, she agreed, becoming one of the coaches of the program. There she met fellow Coach Nikola, and took an immediate liking to her for how genuine she seemed. It was refreshing after her time spent back in elven upper society, and rarely did Niko ever mince her words or hide what she was feeling. Ariadne’s job at Exillium was simple, be eyes to report back anything that might be happening among the students and fit in as a coach, but growing closer to Niko she saw just how much the other coach cared about the kids, even if the culture of the program dissuaded her from showing it. Seeing someone with such passion for carving their own path against the grain, trying against all odds to do good, when Ari had simply been skating along and following orders her whole life, dealing with information she was rather detached from, it was a change, and a bit of a wake up call. She wasn’t really all that surprised as she developed feelings, she’d had feelings for colleagues and acquaintances before, but her marriage for the match and duty to her job had always prevented her from doing much more than acknowledging them. Here, under a name that wasn’t quite hers, with someone quite interested in holding her accountable, she had no such obligations, and fell into a relationship of sorts, even partially moving into Niko’s apartment after some time had passed.

Of course all things come to an end, and some of the students at Exilium had been not so discreetly planning some illegal activities as a way to get back to the council. It’d come to the coaches attention, and consensus lead by Niko was to let it diffuse naturally. Of course the kids were bound to be angry, but they were all talk and needed a place to vent their righteous frustration. Privately, Ariadne disagreed and after a bit of internal debate reported it up through her pipeline. It was dealt with by the proper authorities, resulting in punishments being meted out and the kids written off from most chances to rejoin the lost cities, but in the process Ariadne’s role in it was revealed and Nikola realized she had just been there as an informant and thus felt rightfully betrayed and angry. They had a singular blow up fight before Nikola resolved to icing Ariadne out, something that worked as Ariadne was back in the lost cities within the year. She now has whatever the elven spy equivalent of a desk job is, attending functions and keeping an ear to the ground, but otherwise has very little to do. Despite time having passed since, she’s quite conflicted about the whole thing, feeling just bad enough to have the seeds of discontent slowly sowed. Angsts about her estate, is rather dramatic with the whole situation and feels isolated at this point. She’s currently working as simply someone with her ear to the ground at galas and whatnot, the elven spy equivalent of a desk job, but is a bit resentful of the whole thing not quite sure how she feels about it all.

If you would like me to edit anything on this post, let me know!

...i was plagued by this the entire time while making this so i had to add a few breaks in the paragraphs