#auntie Kay has spoken

[dawnbreakersgaze]

So I know most people understand otome is fantasy and these situations are fake but I've seen an uptick in folks being sad that they'll never find their 'perfect Dr. Zayne' or whatever because "men aren't like that"

I'm here to tell you that there are actual men out there who will see that you had a shit day, fuck you until you can't remember your name, carry you to the shower, lovingly wash you, help you get dressed, go buy you boba tea, make you dinner, and let you sit in the comfy chair all night while you cackle like a gremlin about silly internet things.

That shit IS real. Don't be discouraged. You too can have these things and I promise they're out there for you ♡

[koqabear]

Whatever She Wants

☆Song suggestion: Everything She Wants, Wham!

Summary:

Throughout your life, you were able to get by with the mindset that if you don’t give up, you’ll achieve whatever you want. Your current goal wouldn’t know what flirting was if it hit him in the face. Minor setback. 

Hueningkai x fem! reader

Genre: idiots to lovers, Hueningkai is BIG and STUPID but god does mc want him!! fluff, smut

Word count: 12.1K (a third is just straight up smut.) 

Warnings: Hueningkai is both built and tall af, extrovert mc, introvert/shy hk, mentions of food and alcohol, mc is bold!! Yeojin from loona is our wingwoman this time, our boy is explicitly called Huening or Kai, unofficial dom/sub dynamics(?), mentions of a single parent/ unideal life situations (doesn’t go into detail), petnames (baby)

Smut Warnings: soft dom!mc, sub!servicetop!hk, grinding, hk is inexperienced, and whiny, dry humping, face riding/sitting, oral (f&m receiving) multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hair pulling, deep throating, orgasm control, (edging, forced orgasm) raw sex (mc is on birth control!) riding, creampie, hk is pussydrunk!!

Notes: I don’t care how tall you are, Huening will be taller. He is meant to be an absolute colossal unit in this story, use your imagination!!

Hueningkai has been told he’s handsome all his life. 

Through his mother, constantly doting and praising him— “Look at my handsome boy, so charming!”— his aunties, endlessly shocked at the growth spurts he receives and the deepening of his voice— “You’ve grown well,” they would say, squinting up at him in exaggeration; they would always turn to his mother, nodding in approval as they spoke, “He’s grown into quite a handsome man.”— and through many more faceless people he’s encountered in his life. 

Maybe that’s why he turned out so stupid.

You’ve always been a high achiever— good grades, top of your class, excelling greatly in all sports and extracurriculars; only applying for high-quality jobs, even when still in high school, climbing your way to the top as you quickly became favored by everyone— it was a strategy you used well into your career.  

In short, you only wanted the best.

The best that, much to your dismay, currently manifested itself into the absolute unit that was Kai Kamal Huening. 

Your brain was quick to rationalize things; he was tall, handsome, and kind— the quick bare minimum checked off your list— but he was also much, much more than that. He was quick-witted and funny, one of the best lawyers in the firm you currently worked at as he always arrived early— a cup of coffee in his hands and his blazer already thrown across his forearm as he softly complained about how hot it always was inside. 

From your astute observations, he was fit. He had a good style and was well off, judging by the expensive suits that he always wore, always tailored to perfection— allowing you to catch the way his muscles rippled under his shirt whenever he would reach for the cabinets that were too high for anyone’s benefit— though you didn’t mind them that much now. 

He was well-spoken and charming, the compelling aura he always held to him enough to show why he was one of the top lawyers in your firm. 

Ergo, not entirely stupid. 

However, book smart and street smart are two entirely different things. 

“Huening,” You say, smiling softly as he turns around to face you, “a surprise seeing you here.”

That was a complete and utter lie. Anyone that worked at your firm knew that if they stopped at the coffee shop three blocks away before work, they were bound to bump into the man himself; the cup he carried into work every morning was enough of a hint. It was that same cup, however, that you spent days squinting at, attempting to decipher the name that his delicate fingers covered before you gave up and asked a mutual friend about; Yeojin only laughed at you, mocking you for an obscene amount of time before letting you in on the big clue. 

“He’s there every morning to order the same thing,” she lightheartedly scoffs, shaking her head before she continues, “Wonder how the hell he hasn’t gotten sick of it yet.”

So here you stand, taking a leap of faith as Huening’s eyes widen in recognition— you’re quite offended that it took him a moment to remember you at all. 

“Oh, hello,” it’s painful to hear how formal and reserved he is, the gorgeous lull of his deep voice enough for you to push past it as you continue to smile, “I didn’t know you came here.” 

“Well, thought I’d give it a try,” you say, tilting your head slightly, pausing as if in thought, “after all, I always see you with a cup from here. Figured it’s good enough if you stop by every day.” 

Your voice has shifted into that soft purr you always use on the people you like— victims of your trap as you lure them in, the perfect prey for you to pounce on and enjoy. His smile wavers for a second, and you try to fight back the way your lips want to quirk up as you notice his adam's apple bob nervously. 

Arms crossing, you take a step closer to him, looking up at him as you smile sweetly. Your scent fills his senses, floral and addicting as he looks down at you in confusion. The height difference sends your mind reeling.

“Maybe I could buy you your drink?” You say, sending him a coy smile as you continue, “As a thank you for showing me this place?”

He blinks rapidly, lashes delicately brushing against his skin as your words process in his mind. You feel elated, waiting to catch him in a flustered position, wanting to see what he looks like beyond that cool and collected character he always has. 

He takes a step back; you think you feel nauseous.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says, not a wavering ounce of nerves interlaced with his words as he sends you an apologetic smile. It’s his turn to order, and he takes another step away from you as he gives you a small bow, as though he were rejecting you— no, he was rejecting you. 

“Thank you for the offer though.” 

You can feel the heat rush up your face, a raging fire as it licks the back of your neck and leaves your fingers tingling. But you keep your cool, seemingly unfazed as you nod casually at his words; the pleasant smile on your face is stuck like glue for the rest of your time there, painfully aware of the fact that he didn’t bother even looking your way as you both waited for your drinks— even when they got announced at the same time and the two of you grabbed the wrong cups, all he did was swiftly switch with you and practically speed out of the building. 

In conclusion— you’ve had better coffee. 

❅ ❅ ❅

The concept of mutual friends is truly a blessed thing.

“So, what’d he say?”

After all, it was your one-way ticket to hearing the other side of the story.

“I didn’t want her to waste money on me, so I said no. Plus, my drink is pretty expensive.”   

You’ve never been happier to hear such a sentence— he wasn’t rejecting you, he was just dense!

“So he didn’t understand that I was flirting with him,” you say for the umpteenth time, leaning over the small break table as you ignore the lunch that you and Yeojin were supposed to eat together; your food was getting cold, but that wasn’t really on your mind as you stared Yeojin down, impatient for her response.

“No,” Yeojin said, mid-swallow as she pauses to take a drink— unlike you, Yeojin was currently entranced by the spread before her, eating as though her life were on the line. 

“I’m telling you, he’s just a little uh… dumb, with this kind of stuff.” 

Raising a brow at that, you finally decide to take a bite out of your food— you thought you were being quite obvious. It’s a little hard to believe that he wouldn’t know, considering the fact that he was a good-looking man; surely he’s had many people flirt with him, right?  your mind raced for answers to this strange dilemma, coming to a dumbfounding conclusion as you hummed in wonder. 

“Has he never had a partner before?” You ask, knowing that Yeojin and Huening have been friends since they were kids, “crushes… asked anyone out… anything?”

It shocks you to watch Yeojin go deep in thought. 

“Well…” she starts— another dumbfounding pause ensues. Your eyes widen by the second, watching as she scrunches her face in an attempt to remember, staring off into the sky as she purses her lips together. 

“I think…” You perk up at her words, only to deflate immediately as she shakes her head, a soft “no…” escaping her before she’s trying to remember again. You’re on the edge of your seat by the time she comes to her conclusion, sighing in dismay as she looks up at you in pity.

“His first kiss was in middle school from spin the bottle. And he had a girlfriend senior year, but they didn’t last long,” she says, “but that’s about it.”

The news feels earth-shattering to you— well, maybe you were just being dramatic. But as you lean back in your seat, crossing your arms as you process her information, you realize with wonder that it meant he was inexperienced. The idea is quite strange to you; there’s no way a man of his status and ambition hasn’t indulged in love or lust before, right? New possibilities came to the forefront of your mind— was this a result of him putting his work first, or was he simply not interested?

And as you let the shock linger in your system, you’re surprised to find a much more sinister feeling begin to rear its head, bringing a wave of joy to your system, your lips quirking up as you realize that you found this revelation to be quite… exciting. 

Yeojin seems to have come to the same conclusion as you, her brows furrowing as she frowns in dismay; she’s seen firsthand the lengths you’ll go to get the things you want. 

“Oh girl…” she says, meeting your gaze that only continues to fill with mischief; she’s unsure of what might be running through your head at the moment, but she does know that she doesn’t like it— not one bit. 

The nerves in her stomach only become worse as you refuse to let her in on your plans, choosing instead to take a slow drink from your cup, your gaze switching to something much more interesting; Huening stands by the break room, chatting idly with someone you could care less about— it’s him you can’t take your eyes off, entranced by the way he seems to be in a league of his own, his face blank as he keeps the walls around him up and fortified— oh, the things you’d do to watch them break, crumbling from your actions; you know it won’t be easy. 

But also, you love a good challenge. 

❅ ❅ ❅

Love makes a person do crazy things. 

Luckily for you, it’s not love; more of a curiosity, really. 

“Wow,” Yeojin says, leaning against the doorframe of your apartment, raising a brow in amusement as she watches you touch up your makeup for the umpteenth time, “never seen you so excited to go to a birthday dinner.” 

“It’s a big day for you, how can I not be?” A single glance at her through the bathroom mirror tells you she’s not convinced. Smiling sheepishly, you tuck your lipstick back into your purse, mingling uselessly with your hair as you try to sell this lie. 

“You uh…” adjusting with your hair one last time, you turn to her, giving her an innocent smile as you walk past her and to the door, “you picked a good place.”

“It’s the same restaurant we went to last year,” she deadpans, a teasing smile on her face as she sighs, “Just with new people this time.”

You try not to react too much to her words, knowing that she’s waiting for you to take the bait and ask about him— but you’re better than that, choosing to surprise her with the gift you’ve been dying to give her for a good month; a luxury coat that she’s been pouting about for a while, never brave enough to look past the price as she chose to wish from afar instead. And judging by the way she’s quick to discard the jacket she had on to wear your gift, it’s safe to say she loves it.

You’re safe from her teasing— for now. 

❅ ❅ ❅

The restaurant Yeojin was currently dragging you into was one of the few that served high-class western food you didn’t entirely despise— French, Yeojin would correct you about later on— but your tastes usually pertain more to the Korean food you grew up with. This time, however, you found yourself much more eager to make your way to your table, attempting to not seem too antsy as you waited for your other guest to arrive; not even five minutes passed before you spotted Yeojin’s friend, inhaling slowly as a satisfied smile graced your lips. 

“Don’t go too crazy on him,” Yeojin quickly warns you, her warm hand on your thigh snapping you out of your reverie. Turning to her, you’re met with her serious gaze, sitting up straight as you let her continue.

“He’s shy and takes a while to adjust,” you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help but want to point out that she’s talking about him like he’s a puppy; you bite back a smile from the thought.

“And, he’s still my friend,” her searing gaze softens as she pats your leg one last time, her expression lightening as he begins to approach. From the corner of her eye, she glances back at you. “Don’t make things weird.”

You try to fight back the urge to gawk at her, taken aback by her words. 

“When have I ever—?” You swiftly cut yourself off as Huening finally stands before your table, standing up with Yeojin as you watch them greet; you’re left painfully unacknowledged as you watch Huening hand Yeojin a present, observing the way he seems carefree and happy with her— you’ve never seen him joke around this much before. 

Just when you think things can’t get worse, you watch the way Huening stiffens at the sight of you, unsure of what to do as he realizes that you’ve never quite seen this side of him. Clearing his throat, he smiles politely, bowing slightly in greeting; you’re awkward as you greet back, forced to watch him retreat into that reserved and mysterious person you always saw at work— shit, maybe he really was like a puppy. 

No amount of inclusive conversation and lighthearted jokes seem to get him out of his shell; it’s a fact you and Yeojin seem to be astutely aware of, a pitied side glance from your friend enough to let you know that she at least acknowledges your attempts to be friendly.

You try to pretend that none of you have noticed the number of wine glasses you’ve decided to down, a result of your mind trying to fill in moments where you’re watching Yeojin and Huening talk, left with nothing else to do as you instinctively reached for the thin glass; it’s left you slightly tipsy at most, but it’s enough to calm down the racing thoughts that try to leave you an overthinking mess— at least you’d be confident enough if left on your own with him.

Which, after you’ve finished all your courses, is exactly what Yeojin does. 

You see Yeojin’s mouthed apology over Huening’s shoulder as she makes her way to the bathroom, clearly in the need to go as she doesn’t bother turning back around to meet your wide eyes— not that you were dreading being alone with him, it’s just that you weren’t sure what would be coming out of your mouth now that you didn’t have Yeojin there to signal you to shut up.

The silence that’s left between you two is horrendous; he doesn’t attempt to strike up a conversation with you, back to his unreachable self as you can practically see his barriers come back up. Your mind is racing to find a topic— you won’t allow yourself to flirt just yet, at least not after what happened at the cafe. 

“How long have you and Yeojin known each other?” It’s a safe topic, to say the least— something you know he’ll be likely to elaborate on; it was about the birthday girl, after all!

“Practically all my life.” 

Okay, maybe not. 

It’s not like you didn’t know this, but it would have been nice to at least be humored— he seems unphased as you sigh, leaning forward to rest your chin in the palm of your hand; you pout, your other hand absentmindedly reaching up to trace along the rim of your wine glass. 

“Huening,” you call out softly, tired of tip-toeing and being forced to strike up filler conversations; that truly wasn’t your style— it was too boring. It’s amusing to watch his gaze snap up to meet yours, caught off guard by your casual regard of his surname; under the soft lighting, he truly does look like a puppy, his round eyes sparkly as he waits for you to continue.

“Do I not interest you?” Your question is enough to have him sitting up straight, wondering what you could possibly mean by that as he tries to respond in a way that won’t be upsetting— in other words, he’s helpless.

Leaning towards him, you raise your brow, wanting to see if he’ll respond to your question. Another moment passes when you finally decide that you’re too impatient to wait for him to gather his thoughts— it’s much more interesting to speak your mind.

“You never seem to want to talk to me,” you sigh, leaning back into your chair as you watch him grow more flustered by your words— he’s never been good with such intimate confrontations. Yet you’re relentless, not giving him time to speak as you continue, “Why is that? You can be honest.”

You’re not sure if the wine has gotten to your head or if you’re just pure evil, considering the way you seem to enjoy watching Huening lose his composure very much. Looking at him now, it would be impossible to imagine him in the courtroom, arguing his points efficiently and without hesitation; at least, not with the way he seems too meek to answer your question freely. 

“I…” he finally begins, his deep voice stirring a whirlwind of butterflies you wish you could ignore, “I’m just not very talkative, I’m sorry if I come across as cold.” 

Waving him off, you lightheartedly scoff at his formal and stiff words— you believe him, alright. Unfortunately for him, however, that’s not enough to ward you off. 

“You seemed just fine when Yeojin was here,” you point out, eager to stir things up and see if you’ll get a reaction, “but now that it’s just me, you don’t even bother looking up from the table.”

He says nothing at that, much to your disappointment— if anything, he simply nods at your words, discreetly checking his watch underneath the table; well, not discreetly enough since you managed to catch his actions. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your presence, just unsure of what to do— a little nervous, even. Your efforts to lure him into having a full conversation have failed each time, but that only leaves you wanting to test out your limits a bit more— to see just what will give you a reaction.

“Hey,” you call out, smiling slyly as he looks back up at you; it’s strange, how the put-together and high-class man you always saw at work was nothing more than a pliant, shy puppy under your gaze. 

“Yeojins taking quite a while, isn’t she?” Huening nods— it seems as though he’s caught onto this strange dynamic you’ve created. 

“Well,” tilting your head to the side, you lean forward again, watching the way he follows your movements closely—you’ve got him hooked this time, that’s for sure. “Why don’t we use this time to get you more comfortable? I’m not that hard to talk to, you know.” 

He’s taken aback by your actions— he’s unsure of how to perceive them, not used to this persistent behavior; after a while, everyone who tried to talk to him simply gave up. Gulping, he nods softly.

“Okay.” 

“Tell me,” your voice is slow and sweet as you lure him in, careful not to scare him away with your questions as you try to ease him in, “How’d you and Yeojin stay so close all this time?” 

You want him to elaborate— you want him to ramble, to hear his stories and thoughts; Huening realizes that just now, watching as you stare at him in anticipation; your eyes are lidded and calm, a slight haze to your gaze as you slowly take another sip from your wine glass— who knows how many of those you’ve had already— and it’s oddly intimidating as your eyes never seem to leave him for a second. 

“We were neighbors,” he begins, clearing his throat softly, fingers tapping at his thigh under the table as he lets himself ramble, “Our mothers became friends, so it was inevitable that we would do everything together. At some point, she became more of a family than some of my actual relatives.” 

It’s interesting to hear this story from the other perspective— you’d known about Huening for a long time, but it wasn’t until recent years that you’d got to meet him; your new interest in him came much later. 

He tells you everything about him and Yeojin— it’s odd, but he can’t stop himself; at least not with the way you look at him so intently, silently urging him to continue every time he trails off in doubt— before he knows it, he feels his barriers being let down before he can stop it. 

“Hmm, you’re much more talkative than you give yourself credit for, Huening,” you say, his name rolling off your tongue sweetly and smoothly. You can see Yeojin appear behind Huening’s frame, finally making her way back as you sigh softly. 

“I’d like to see this side of you more often.”

He has nothing to say to that— Yeojin sits at your table before he can respond. And as you listen to Yeojin’s apologies for taking so long, you can’t help but feel his gaze return to you for the rest of dinner— even more so when it’s time to leave, his steps slowing as it’s finally time to part ways. 

“I think I forgot something at our table,” Yeojin perks up, nudging you softly as she sends you a smooth nod, “I’ll be right back, wait for me please.” 

Yeojin doesn’t even try to make her lie believable as she slowly walks back inside— you shake your head in amusement as you watch her go, silently thankful for her ability to pick up on the atmosphere that gathered around the two of you.

“It’s uhm,” Huening is first to speak, clearing his throat as you turn to look at him. “It’s been nice getting to know you. Tell Yeojin I had to leave early, but I’ll see her on Monday.” 

“Hmm? You’re leaving already?” You don’t allow him to leave as you take a step closer to him, watching as he straightens up the moment you approach him; it was honestly amusing. “You should say bye to the birthday girl, it’d be rude not to.” 

“It— sorry?” He’s practically malfunctioning at your proximity, blinking owlishly as he stutters over his own words. He’s never like this— yet, with you, he simply can’t keep composure; it’s like you learned just how to fluster him.

“It’d be rude,” you clarify softly, leaning into him as though you were letting him in on a big secret, your volume dropping down, “to not say goodbye properly.”

You’re not talking about Yeojin anymore; you both know this. It’s endearing, the way he gulps nervously at your words, hands hovering awkwardly by his sides as he finds himself unsure of what to do. 

“Do… you want me to?” 

It feels as though a bolt of lightning struck at your spine, your body tingling and hot as you process his soft and unsure tone— the way he’s become oddly pliant at your commands, unable to do anything unless you’re directing him to; you never expected him to be this way.

“You should.” 

Huening really is the strong and silent type— for all he does is nod meekly at your words, lips pressed into a thin line as you both fall into a tense silence. A smile breaks onto your face, unable to hide the mischief from your eyes as you finally take a step back. A moment passes, and you see Yeojin approaching behind the glass doors. Turning back to Huening, you tilt your head teasingly once you find him already looking at you.

“You’re quite obedient,” you offhandedly comment, tutting softly as you look away; you can still feel his eyes bore into the side of your face. 

“Handsome, too.” From the corner of your eyes, he blinks rapidly, seemingly ripped out of his trance as he sees Yeojin approach the exit, “Don’t be too afraid to talk to me. I don’t bite.” 

It truly is a curse to not have Yeojin there with you, your personal damage control that never lets your drunken thoughts get past your loose lips. But Huening simply looks too cute in your peripheral vision, and before you can stop yourself, you glance back at him, sending him a wink as Yeojin finally makes her way to you.

“Unless you want me to.”

He’s unable to look you in the eyes as he says goodbye— but the blush on his cheeks tells you all you need to know.

❅ ❅ ❅

It was a leap of faith when you decided to stop by the cafe nearby before work— a part of you actually was looking to get coffee before your long day— but in the end, it wasn’t really a surprise to see Huening waiting in line; rather, it was his actions that caught you off guard. 

“Good morning,” he said, greeting you with your surname at the end— just like you always did to him. The sound of your name coming from his lips sent shivers down your body, unable to hide your smile as you greeted him in return. You already spotted him the moment you approached the door, his broad back and impeccable posture making him easy to spot; so to say that it was a surprise to see him whip around at the sound of the bell ringing, eager to get your attention the moment you walked in, was an understatement.

Huening truly wasn’t lying about his communication skills; he was reserved and quiet as you spoke, constantly finding yourself searching for ways to prevent the conversation from dying. You’re not sure why, but he didn’t seem as eager to leave in comparison to all the other times you’ve interacted with him— maybe you’re finally beginning to warm up to him. 

Glancing at the menu, you find yourself next in line to order; Huening motions for you to go ahead, ever the gentleman as he opens his mouth to say something— but you beat him to it before he can get anything out. 

“Will you let me buy you your drink this time?” You say, an innocent smile on your face as you wait expectantly. He finds himself stuttering, eyes widening at your words. 

“I… I’m the one who should be—“ 

“Why? I’m offering,” if he thinks that he’ll be the one to woo you, he’s sorely mistaken; even as you gently insist, finally getting him to agree in the end, you don’t think he realizes how he’s digging his own grave—he’s pliant under your grip, and you’ve discovered that you like it that way. 

You know what everyone seems to think when you walk into the office together; as a matter of fact, you can hear it, your co-worker’s indiscreet whispers finding their way back to you, unable to bring yourself to care as their comments turn out more amusing to you than anything. 

Has he finally set his eyes on someone? Is he making a move on her? Look, both of their cups have the same name on them.

Setting your coffee cup down, you smile at the pretty name that was scrawled on by the barista— Huening. A smile itches itself onto your face, filled with mischief and unable to go away as your friend walks into your office; she takes one look at you, then sighs.��

“You’re quick,” she says, your smile contagious as she quickly finds herself mirroring your expression. Taking a seat across from you, she grins, patting the desk as she leans in, eyes wide and eager as she asks, “What’d you do?”

It doesn’t take long for you to recap all of the things you said to him, starting from the dinner to the very moment the two of you walked into the building. You find yourself in a giddy and dreamlike state as you recount everything to her, staring out into the hallway as your finger traces around the lid of your cup, the warmth bringing comfort to you as you cup your hands around it instead. 

“So it was all you,” Yeojin says, bewildered by your tale as she stares at you, head in her hands in amazement. “I’m surprised he’s warming up to you already.” 

“You think so too, right?” You immediately quip, leaning in towards her as you bring your voice down, “I’ve always been the one that tries to talk to him first. It’s always kind of awkward— not that today was any better— but he didn’t seem so… skittish this time.”

Yeojin nods profusely, leaning back in her chair as she puts her hands neatly in her lap. Yet, even though she’s agreeing with you, you can still see that there’s more to it— especially with the way she seems to be lost in thought, lips pursed as though she’s pondering whether to say something to you or not.

“See, the thing about him is…” She pauses, shaking her head with a small tsk— sighing deeply, she seems to be in turmoil on how to phrase her next words. “He’s a bit… clueless. Inexperienced, on top of that.”

“So…?” You say, raising a brow in curiosity. She smiles sheepishly, and you can only tilt your head down in an attempt to urge her to continue. 

“So he probably doesn’t realize you’re flirting.” 

“What? How can he not?” You ask, a bit in disbelief as you attempt to consider the possibility, “I’m practically spelling it out for him— I’ve practically told him I want him at this point.”

“Ew, first off— he’s still my friend, I don’t wanna hear that,” Yeojin jokes, ignoring the way you roll your eyes lightheartedly in response, “and… how do I say this in a way that doesn’t make him sound narcissistic…” 

Yeojin winces, smacking her lips before she continues. 

“He’s kinda… He’s been praised throughout his whole life— he was popular in school, too.” She laughs at that, remembering the way girls used to flock around him constantly, “People always used to tell him he was handsome and all that— So, when you tell him all these things…” 

“He doesn’t think anything of it.” You say breathlessly, connecting the two as you look at Yeojin— to your dismay, she nods. “Because he’s used to hearing it all the time.” 

Yeojin only agrees with you; a moment passes as you let the information sink in, realizing just how difficult this all is turning out to be. 

“Damn.”

❅ ❅ ❅

You’re not… entirely sure how you got here. 

Your mother was always a very supportive woman— it was just you and her against the world, after all. 

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can or can’t do,” she would tell you, a proud smile permanently stuck on her face every time she looked at you— at all the things you managed to achieve despite your unideal living situation, “If you put your mind to it, I know you’ll get anything you want.” 

Her advice stuck with you; your personal motivation whenever you faltered, when the finish line seemed too far for your comfort. Without her, you wouldn’t have the mindset to never give up— even on the little things. 

So, now that you really think about it, you think you know how you got to where you are now— a tipsy mess, arms linked with Huening’s as you rambled to him about something incoherent— you got here from sheer willpower. (And your mother, of course.)

In your mind, you were much closer to the finish line than the man beside you may realize; no, you aren’t dating him or anything, but going out to eat without Yeojin there to play the part of the mutual friend counts as a big step forward, right? 

The excuse of going on a walk around the park near the restaurant to sober up wasn’t entirely a lie— it did help a little, the feeling of the cold air on your face and the sight of the frozen lake reflecting the lights of the busy city waking you up quite a bit. But it was mostly a ploy to get Huening to spend more time with you; you weren’t ready to let him go yet. 

Weeks of talking and getting to know him better proved what Yeojin told you to be true— with every compliment, every flirty comment, he seemed to become more and more unphased, swiftly replying to each advancement of yours like it was nothing. You were able to call each other friends now, but at what cost?

You might just be stuck in this friend zone forever, you don’t like the sound of that at all, a frown overtaking your face as you pull Huening to the nearest bench you spot; wiping the snow off, you suppress a smile as he scoots closer to you, an action that might not mean anything to him sending your mind racing. 

“Huening,” you start, clearing your throat as you look at him. He hums, turning his head to face you— he’s so close, the scent of his cologne oddly addicting as you will yourself to not get lost in it. “Are you doing anything for New Year’s Eve?” 

“I’m going to Yeojin’s party,” he frowns, tilting his head cutely as he looks at you, “Aren’t you?” 

“I am,” you grin, nudging your shoulder with his as you face forward, looking at the pretty skyline and its busy city, “Just wanted to hear you say it first.”

A silence falls after that, yet you don’t find yourself scrambling to strike up another conversation. The man beside you is warm, the feeling of his body pressed against yours making your heart beat faster— arm against arm, thigh against thigh. Your hands are shaky and rigid as you tuck them inside the sleeves of your coat; Huening is quick to notice this, his hands reaching out for yours.

“Are you cold?” He asks, his hands oddly warm as they come in contact with your own. Turning to him, you’re caught off guard to find him staring at you intently; his eyes are soft, his hair fluffy and filled with snowflakes. You’re unable to stop yourself from staring at him, taking in the way his delicate skin is flushed sweetly, his lips parted and enticing as he waits for you to respond. 

“I wish you’d stop staring at me like that,” his words are deceiving as he says them, not able to fool you for a second as his voice drops down to nothing but a whisper, gulping softly as his eyes meet yours. 

“Why…?” You ask, your voice soft as you find yourself moving closer. You’re careful to observe him, eyes flickering to and from his lips as you wait for him to make a decision. 

“Because I…” he stops, licking his lips nervously as he stutters over his words, “It makes me want to…” 

He doesn’t finish his thought— but his message is clear as his lips press unsurely against yours. He’s soft, sweet, and oh so addicting as he kisses you, his hands that encase yours shaking as he finds himself unsure of what to do.

He feels the way you smile against his lips, confident and bold as your hands rip free from his hold; he allows you to take the lead as you scoot closer to him, your hand trailing up his arm, to his shoulder, until it finally finds itself buried in his hair, pulling softly before you direct him to come closer. 

He feels dizzy as your lips part his, the kiss messy and foreign as he lets you taste him— your teeth sink teasingly on his bottom lip, and he lets out the sweetest whimper that has your brain fogging with need. He feels the way your teeth scratch along his flesh as you pull away, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he takes in the way you look at him. He’s embarrassed, blushing and panting as he tries to catch his breath, ashamed that his inexperience probably showed— but to his surprise, all he sees is you, triumphant and satisfied as you take in the mess you left him in. 

It makes his stomach flip. 

“You’re so cute,” you smile, leaning in to place another chaste kiss on his lips— he finds himself chasing after you, wanting more as you laugh softly at him. He can’t bring himself to be embarrassed anymore, at least not with the way you look at him like you want to devour him. Standing up, you grab his hand, fingers lacing with his as you pull him up.

“Let’s go, Huening. I’m cold.” 

It’s immediate, the way he follows you, a shy smile never disappearing from his lips as he’s unable to look into your eyes for too long. It isn’t until he’s ready to drop you off that he stops you, your hand frozen on the door handle as you turn back to him curiously. 

“Kai,” he says, his gaze sweet and sheepish as he tells you. 

“Hmm?”

“You can call me Kai, if you want.” You’re unable to fight the smile that breaks across your face, reaching out to cup his cheeks before you’re leaning in, giving him one last sweet kiss before you leave.

“Okay. Kai.”

❅ ❅ ❅ 

It’s funny to think of Kai leading the relationship— but for some reason, that’s all your coworkers can fathom. Of course, you can see why they would think that; stereotypically, a man like him, who appears so stoic and composed, may seem like someone who would be more dominant and leading— he’s the one who buys a coffee for you every day, a secure hand placed on the small of your back every day when you leave together. 

But oh, if only they could see him now— a pathetic mess under you as you tease him relentlessly, on his lap as a movie plays on his tv in the background. 

“I thought you said we should get ready,” you say, smiling against his lips as you lean down to pepper kisses along the column of his throat. He nods, long black hair brushing against your skin as he attempts to stutter out a response— but he’s unable to, not with the way you’re mouthing mischievously at the spot on his neck that makes his knees go weak. 

“We— we should…” his breath hitches as you gently bite at his skin, careful to not leave any marks as he continues, “we might be late…” 

“Then why can’t you let me go, hmm?” You say, referring to the way his hands are still firmly holding onto your waist; he gulps, letting go immediately as you laugh. 

“It’s okay baby,” you sigh out, sitting up as you take in his dazed state— and before you can help it, you find yourself beginning to grind against him, watching as his hips jump up in surprise, “I don’t mind being a little late.” 

You freeze immediately the moment he reaches out to grasp your forearms; his eyes are glassy, lips parted and his breaths shaky as he stutters out, flustered as he holds you in place. 

“Wait…” he says, embarrassed as he looks away from you— he’s unable to meet your eyes as he continues, “I… wanna take it slow.” 

He’s vulnerable as he waits for you to answer, his body heating up in shame as he can’t look you in the face— he hoped that he didn’t disappoint you, wishing nothing more than to be the one that could take charge for once. 

“Of course baby,” you say, your voice gentle as you cup his face, moving his head to look back at you; your eyes are shining with nothing but affection and adoration, a soft smile gracing your lips as you lean forward to place a soft kiss on his forehead. “I’ll wait as long as you need. Don’t ever feel sorry or ashamed for wanting to take things slow.” 

He’s sure you can feel his heart, the sound loud as it resounds in his ears— he nods softly, your smile contagious as he finds himself mirroring you. It’s lighthearted as you giggle, peppering kisses all along his face as he breaks out into a grin; it isn’t until he’s pushing you away jokingly that you finally give in, reaching for your overnight bag as you tell him you’ll go get ready. 

❅ ❅ ❅

One thing about Yeojin is that she knows how to throw a party. 

You stand at her doorway, hand in hand with your boyfriend as you scan the apartment for your friend; it takes you a while before you spot her by all the drinks, chatting with guests happily. Nodding in her direction, you’re quick to pull Kai along, holding tightly onto him as you make your way through the surprisingly large amount of people— you forget how much of a social butterfly Yeojin is sometimes.

“You’re here!” Yeojin exclaims, swiftly turning her attention to her two closest friends. It’s immediate, the way she glances down to spot your interlocked hands, scrunching her face up jokingly as she’s turning back to you. 

“You two should be thanking me for letting it happen,” she says, shaking her head in amusement as she slaps your arm lightly, “I don’t know how you did it.”

You wave her off as you two laugh, Kai watching you fondly from the side. It isn’t long before Yeojin spots another new guest, bidding you goodbye before she’s greeting them cheerfully. 

You’re relieved to see just how many people aren’t your coworkers; you don’t think you would’ve come if that were the case. Maybe that’s why you allow yourself to meet new people, enjoying the music and the atmosphere as Kai tags along happily. 

“Thirsty?” You say, glancing at Kai after catching him looking around nervously for the umpteenth time. He nods, and you smile as you reach out for his hand. “Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter.” 

Yeojin’s kitchen is deserted and always left off-limits during parties; which makes it the perfect spot for the two of you to rest, leaning against the counter as you listen to the slightly muffled music in the other room. 

Kai isn’t exactly the most outgoing person— which is why you’re surprised he decided to go to one of Yeojin’s parties in the first place. But, looking into his eyes now, you realize why— because of you, of course. He seems content at this moment, alone from everyone else and free to wrap an arm around your waist— which is why you don’t hold yourself back when you lean in to kiss him. 

Like any other kiss you’ve shared, you’re quick to take the lead, and he’s just as quick to give it to you, your hands wandering up his chest until they land lazily on the nape of his neck; you’re playing softly with the tufts of his hair, enjoying the way he practically melts into you.

You’re more than surprised when his other hand finds your waist, holding onto you tightly as he turns— pressing your back into the counter as he stands between your legs, your dress beginning to ride up. 

“Baby,” you call out, a sigh escaping you as he begins to trail down your neck, the feeling of his hair brushing against your skin making you more sensitive, “baby, what are you…” 

Your words die on your tongue the moment his hips roll into yours. 

You’re done for, that’s all you can think as his hold turns firm, holding you in place as he begins grinding into you— a small sigh leaves you, and you can feel the way your stomach flips the moment he lets out a needy whine against your neck.

“Thought you wanted to wait,” you say, pulling him back up as you stare into his eyes, wondering just what has gotten into him— he didn’t drink, he’s the designated driver (you didn’t drink, either)— but his eyes seem to be hazy and sure as he stares down at you, the look in his eyes new, yet familiar.

“Can’t…” he sighs out, unable to stop himself as he presses into you— you suppress a sound at the feeling of him pressing against you so perfectly, “you look so pretty.” 

You’ve never felt so nervous before— he makes you nervous, his stare intense as you feel your knees weakening, your resolve crumbling as you gulp tensely. 

“Do… you want to go home?”

He nods. 

Your hand finds his in the blink of an eye, and before you know it, you’re weaving through the guests to find Yeojin.

“We’re leaving,” you say, hoping that your reasoning isn’t too obvious as Kai hovers behind you.

“So soon? It’s not even midnight yet,” she says, leaning in so you can hear her over the music. Yeojin seems surprised by your words, taking in your apologetic smile and the way Kai fidgets nervously behind you; she pauses before she nods understandingly, much to your relief. 

And as you bid her goodbye, you can’t help but feel your heart beginning to pound harshly against your chest as you make your way out, Kai’s hand secure on the small of your back the entire time. 

❅ ❅ ❅

“You’re such a tease,” you mumble, your lips stuck as Kai refuses to part from you for a second. He’s glued to you, your back pressed firmly against the door to his apartment as he lets his hands wander, smoothing down your hips and going back up, the fabric of your dress bunching up from his actions. 

“Sorry, I just…” his apologies fall on deaf ears as you hook your leg around his waist, bringing him in closer as you allow yourself to deepen the kiss. You’ve never seen him like this, needy and uncontrollable as he holds onto you tightly, trying to bring you closer even though your body is already pressed against his, the feeling of his warm skin against yours driving you mad. 

When you release your grip on him, your leg coming back down as your foot softly lands on the floor, you find your stomach dipping as you hear him whine from the loss. Grinning, your hands find themselves on his chest, pushing him back as you send him a coy smile. 

“This won’t do. Why don’t you take me to bed, baby?”

You don’t need to tell him twice— you barely get to breathe before he’s acting on your command, bringing you back in as his hands find themselves on the backs of your thighs, your mind barely catching up with him before they’re wrapped around his waist, a small grunt leaving him as he picks you up. 

“When did you get this strong?” You sigh, the feeling of him placing needy kisses along the expanse of your neck and chest making your eyes flutter shut— you can feel his muscles flex underneath you, impressed with the way he’s able to carry you to bed with ease. 

“Did it just for you,” He smiles, laying you down as he hovers over you. You scoff, hitting his chest jokingly as you try to pretend that his words didn’t fluster you. Gently, you cup his cheek, smiling fondly as you take his features in.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask, watching the way his eyes darken at the question; he sighs softly, eyes flitting to your lips as he nods.

“Need you to tell me, baby.” Your voice is barely audible as you tell him, tilting your head as you wait for him to respond. You watch him gulp, his cheeks flushing cutely as he’s suddenly unable to look you in the eye. Gently, you tilt his head back to you, prompting him to look at you as you raise your brows expectantly.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he sighs, not wasting another second before he’s closing the gap between the two of you. He can feel you smiling against his lips again, a feeling that makes him weak as he waits for your next move. And when you’re asking him to move, switching positions so you’re straddling him, he can’t bring himself to be surprised.

“You’re so pretty…” he mumbles, looking up at you in awe. You grin down at him, just as needy as him as you found yourself in the same position you were in a couple of hours ago— only, he seems much more sure of himself as you stare at him, your thighs soft and warm as he runs his hands over them soothingly. 

“You are too,” you say, the words slipping from you without a second thought as your hips begin to grind against him— you’re dizzy, able to feel how hard he is underneath you, how perfectly he slots against you. His eyes threaten to flutter shut at the sensation, a choked sound escaping him as his hand finds themselves gripping onto your hip; slowly, he pushes you down on him, guiding your movements subtly as his hips jump up ever so often. 

“Feels so good,” you sigh, your lips right next to his ear as you allow him to hear every pleasured sound that escapes you; it only manages to spur him more, soft whimpers and moans escaping him as he loses himself in the feeling of you. Leaning back, you press your hands firmly against his chest, grasping his attention as his eyes meet yours— they’re bleary and hazed with pleasure, already losing his composure despite you just beginning.

“When was the last time you did anything like this?” You tease, biting at your lip as you slow your pace, sitting firmly on top of him as you feel the way he throbs against you; his whines from the loss of stimulation are tempting, but you stand your ground as you wait for a response, much more interested in undoing his button up as you wait for him to speak.

“It’s…” you can tell he’s hesitant, his mind dizzy at the feeling of you slowly undoing his shirt— your fingers are mischievous as they trail down, tracing along his bare chest as your gentle gaze coaxes him to only answer with what he’s comfortable; in the end, he can feel his face heating up as he finds the courage to admit it. 

“I… haven’t really…” you’re unable to stop the way your brows raise in surprise, your movements ceasing at his words, ready to take things slower for him— but he continues, pushing past his shyness as he looks away from you. “It’s been a while. I’m not very experienced.”

He might just be the death of you— especially with the way he’s so sweet and shy, unable to look you in the face in fear of you reacting badly— but why would you, when he seems so eager to learn?

 “That’s okay,” you softly coo, your hands breaching past the material of his shirt as you run your hands down the expanse of his chest; he’s warm, his breaths stuttering as you teasingly run your nails along his chest— slowly, you make your way down, untucking his shirt before you’re wandering back up his chest and to his shoulders.

“Just makes things more fun for me,” you grin, mischievous as always as you lean in, pressing a soft kiss on his lips before you’re gesturing for him to take his shirt off— you allow yourself to sit back and admire him as he does so immediately.           

It’s endearing to watch him turn shy under your heated gaze, unable to stop yourself from admiring his smooth skin— your hands are eager to explore, feeling the sturdiness of his muscles, dipping down to his waist as you watch him flinch from the way your nails tease his skin, the rise and fall of his chest slowing and deepening as he waits for your next move.

You can tell he’s beginning to grow impatient; it’s amusing watching him become antsy as the feeling of your body, soft and warm, on top of his, just isn’t enough; he wants to feel you.

There’s no need for words as he begins to tug the hem of your dress up, suddenly impatient with the need to touch you, to pleasure you. And you allow him to, assisting him as you finally take your dress off, unable to fight the nerves that come with him seeing you like this for the first time— but one look in his eyes is enough to reassure you once again. 

He’s unsure of how to control himself as he takes you in, choosing to pull you in for another kiss instead; you’re surprised by how needy he is, looming over you until he’s switching positions, your back pressed against his bed as he hovers over you once more.

“Can I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence, refusing to part from you as his hands tentatively meet your waist— his hands are big as they smooth up and down your body, unable to stop the shivers that wrack through you from the feeling. Pushing him back, you smile, meeting his needy gaze with a soft laugh. 

“You can do anything you want to me.” 

A moment passes as he looks down at you, deciphering whether or not you mean it— you’re so pretty under him, not an ounce of doubt or hesitation showing through as your eyes meet his; they’re just as needy and impatient as his. Gulping, he slowly nods, hoping that you don’t notice how shaky his hands are as they slowly breach past the waistband of your panties. 

Slowly, he drags the material down, his inexperience shining through as you watch him keenly— he’s hesitant in all his movements, careful to keep an eye on your reactions in hopes that he’s doing okay. Slowly, he eases himself onto his stomach, situating himself between your legs as he takes you in— needy, wet, and so pretty. 

“Huening,” you purr out, the sound of his surname coming from your lips in such a tone catching him off guard; he hopes you didn’t catch the way his hips ground into the mattress, the sound of your deep and commanding voice making him melt. 

It’s only natural that your hand finds itself wound in his hair— he looks so cute as you watch the way he stares up at you expectantly, his eyes fluttering shut as you tug teasingly at his roots.

“What’s wrong baby?” You coo, unable to hide the way your arousal only builds up as he seems helpless, sitting up as he moves to kneel as well. He smiles sheepishly at your question, biting at his lip before he answers you. 

“I’m not sure what to do. I’ve never…” at the tilt of your head, he clears his throat, hands holding onto your waist as he leans in, his lips begging to be kissed as he pouts. “I want to please you.” 

You raise your brows— now it’s you who doesn’t know what to say. 

“You want me to show you?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, your voice a whisper as you watch him nod eagerly. 

“I want you to use me.” 

A breathless laugh is all that leaves you— you wait, looking for any hesitation, regret, uncertainty— but all you see in those eager eyes is a genuine impatience, a smile easing itself on his face as he takes in your flustered face. Slowly, he leans in, placing a kiss below your ear, his hands on your hips dragging you closer to him as he whispers, his words so quiet you could miss it if you didn’t pay attention. 

“Will you ride my face?” 

You gulp, feeling weak from his words as you slowly nod— and, like always, he’s eager to move, ready for you to get comfortable as he lays expectantly. 

“You…” you gulp, your knees dipping the bed down as you hover above his chest— his hands rub up and down your thighs, surprised to see him grinning mischievously for once; god, is that what you looked like? 

“You’re sure about this?” 

“Yes,” this new side of him is lethal— patting your thighs, he gestures for you to move up, eyes lidded as he looks up at you. “Please… I want you so bad, want to taste you.” 

His begging is quiet and whiny as he continues, making your knees weak as you finally scoot up; his lips are parted in awe as he stares up at you, licking his lips in anticipation as you hover over him— your pussy is enticing as a shaky sigh escapes him, the feeling of his breath on your core making you jump in surprise. 

“Just…” slowly, you reach down to push his hair from his face, his eyes closing in contentment as you do so— your other hand holds onto the headboard, leaning forward for support as you speak. “Don’t be afraid to stop, if it gets to be too much.” 

The look he sends you feels like a strike of lighting on your spine— your body is hot and tingly as he sends you a coy smile, gripping your hips as he gestures for you to move down. 

“Don’t worry about me.” 

Eager. That’s all you can think to describe Kai as he finally gets a taste of you, the feeling of his tongue flattening against your slit making you jump in surprise— the moan you let out after is uncontrollable, the feeling of him licking a strip along your pussy making your eyes fall shut. 

His lips find your clit soon after, sucking and teasing it as he tries to gauge what makes you tremble above him— his tongue circles along it slowly as he stares up at you, in awe of the way you react to his every movement. It isn’t long before he’s back to your slit, his tongue slowly breaching your hole before it retreats; you’d never thought he’d ever tease you like this, and you’re finding yourself to be much more impatient than you expected. 

Hueningkai thinks he might just die happy the moment your hips begin to grind down on his face. 

The sounds that leave your lips are heavenly to him, only managing to spur him on as he lets you ride him, his tongue finally entering you as you whimper; his hips jump up pathetically at the sound, desperate to feel something. 

“Ah, fuck…” you sigh, feeling him press harder against you— his jaw is left wide open as he takes you in, tongue working hard to collect all the essence that spills out of you; his eyes flutter shut as he moves his head side to side, nose brushing against your clit as he feels you clench around his tongue. 

“Shit, Huening—!” You’re nothing but a mess above him, surprised by how quickly you find yourself grinding down on him, desperate to reach the high that only looms over you. Your hand grips the headboard as you lose yourself, thighs clamping slightly around his head as a yelp escapes you— you’re crashing down before you know it, shaky sounds escaping you as he doesn’t stop his motions for a second.

“Huening,” you moan out softly, attempting to rise from your position before his strong hands are bringing you back down. 

“Again,” he whines under you, the sight of his face glistening from under you making your stomach flip— his eyes are determined as he holds you in place, running his tongue along his top lip as he persists, “wanna see you do that again.” 

“You’re fucking insane,” laughing softly, you shake your head, unable to deny the way your body is already asking for more— and he’s eager to provide, bringing you back down to him as he begins again. 

You’ve never pinned Kai to be like this— putting your pleasure above his, moaning against your pussy as he feels you clench down on him; he’s ruthless, sucking up your juices eagerly as he feels the way your legs shake, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

It isn’t long before you’re cumming against his face again— your body heavy against his face as you grind on him, your hand pulling carelessly at his roots as you lose yourself in the feeling.

“Baby, oh god…” you moan out, not surprised to find his strong arms keeping you in place— you’re not so sure of who’s leading who at this point, but as Kai continues to push you to another orgasm, you wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to flip the script on you. 

“Shit, shit shit shit!” You gasp, your legs shaking as you struggle to sit up— your hand is pushing against Kai’s forehead as he attempts to clean you up, a coy smile stuck on his face as you hover over him, panting heavily as you lean your head against the hand that was holding onto the headboard. 

He allows you to take a second as his lips pepper kisses along your inner thighs, teasing tongue lapping at your cum that has dripped down. 

“You…” you sigh out, sitting back on his chest as you laugh incredulously— he simply stares at you innocently, as though his chin weren’t glistening and his face wasn’t flushed, his pretty hair splayed along his pillow like a halo, pretty lips parted so he could catch his breath. 

“You’re insatiable,” you comment scooting down before you’re sitting on his clothed crotch— he groans, grinding up at you desperately as he throws his head back against the pillow. 

“Could’ve gone for more.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t know how?” You muse, fingers teasingly beginning to unbutton his pants; slowly, you pull the zipper down, already feeling the way he throbs in anticipation. He shakes his head in amusement, arms splayed out on the bed as he closes his eyes.

“Just did what I thought was right.” 

“So you’re a natural…” you tease, dragging his pants down as you signal for him to lift his hips; he follows your command naturally, trying to hide the way he quickly becomes antsy. Your fingers are ghosting along the waistband of his boxers, watching the way his stomach flinches at the unexpected contact. After a while, he whines, needy and desperate as he raises his head to look at you.

“Can you please touch me?” He asks quietly, shy and whiny as he stressed his plea. “Please, I want to feel you…” 

His begging makes you feel weak— you could never say no to him. Slowly, your fingers ease themselves under his waistband, pulling it down as you finally free his cock— it’s hard and needy, pulsing desperately as a trail of precum spurts out, a soft whimper leaving him as you blow on it teasingly, his cock jumping at the feeling.  

“Agh, I need you…” he trails off, the feeling of your soft thighs against his driving him mad— he feels dizzy the moment your hand wraps around him, warm and firm as you watch in amusement the way his hips jump up at the feeling. 

“Oh—“ he chokes on his own words, feeling the way your thumb brushes along his tip, spreading his precum along your hand as you slowly begin pumping him, “ohhhh…. You’re so…” 

Your name is stuck in his lips as he moans out, his hands fisting at the sheets as you quicken your pace. Slowly, you lean down, watching him carefully as your tongue darts out to lick his tip— his reaction is immediate. 

“Ah!” He whimpers, throwing his head back with a whine of your name. His hips jump uncontrollably, eager to meet your mouth as you slowly wrap your lips around the head of his cock— your hand is still pumping him, trying your best to not break out into a smile at the way he weakens from the feeling of you. 

Your mouth is so hot and wet, sucking around him perfectly as you begin to take him deeper, deeper, and deeper. He’s never felt this before, and before he can hold back, his hips jump up, his eyes widening as his hand finds itself resting on your head.

“Fuck— sorry,” he says, breathless as he feels you continue, seemingly unphased by his actions, “god, you just feel so… so good.”

It’s lewd, the way your spit begins to trail along his length, your mouth slowly trailing back up as you release him with a pop. The smile on your face makes him feel weak, shakily exhaling as your hand continues where your mouth left off. 

“It’s okay baby,” you say, picking up your pace as you watch his eyes fall shut, “I don’t mind.” 

He can feel the pleasure becoming overwhelming, the sound of your sweet voice coaxing him making his head spin, hips fucking into your hand as your mouth latches onto the tip, your tongue only bringing him closer as you lap at him. His sounds turn sweeter, louder, and you know he’s close by the way his cock twitches in your mouth. Glancing up at him, you watch as his eyes are shut tight, brows furrowed as he becomes restless— your name is stuck in his mouth, the only thing he can bring himself to say as it falls effortlessly from his lips; he’s close, oh so close. 

Then, it all stops. 

“What…?” The look on his face is priceless— he pouts at you, watching as you move to straddle him, a grin breaking out on your face the moment you make eye contact. “That’s not fair.” 

Innocently, you shrug, watching the way he twitches as you grab him, aligning yourself with him as you hover over him. 

“Wait—“ he says, reaching out to you as you freeze at his words, “A condom— uh, there’s one in my drawer over there.”

“Do you want one?” You ask, tilting your head as you watch him go speechless. 

“Well…” he’s hesitant, unsure of what to say as he trails off.

“I don’t,” you say, reassuring him with a smile, “birth control.” 

You watch him gulp, eyes glazed as he slowly nods— you can feel him throbbing against you, a small okay escaping his lips as he allows himself to relax. Leaning forward, you press a kiss against his cheekbone, whispering in his ear teasingly as you glide his tip along your slit— he can barely process what you tell him. 

“If you don’t cum before me, I’ll let you cum inside,” you tease, a grin on your face as you lean back; his eyes are wide as he processes what you say, already feeling the way you tease yourself with his tip.

“But—“ he stops, a soft sigh escaping the two of you as you finally slip the tip in, “I— I won’t last long, fuck.”

Unfortunately for him, that’s exactly what you’re counting on. 

Your pace is brutal from the start— he’s biting at his lip to prevent his whines to spill out, but it’s not really helping; you’re so tight and warm, he feels dizzy as your hips smack against his, your thighs encasing him so nicely as he watches your breasts bounce from your bra.

You can feel him throbbing— he stretches you so nicely, the need to make him cum first a priority as you push past the way your legs are already becoming sore. Carelessly, you reach behind you, eager to take your bra off as Kai’s eyes never leave yours— his hands immediately encase your breasts, the feeling of his fingers teasing your nipples making you clench around him; his mind blanks instantly. 

“Agh, shit,” he’s melting under you as you do it again, feeling the way his hips are eager to meet yours, chasing after a high that you already know is close. 

“Fuck, wait—“ his words are cut off with a whine, throwing his head back as he feels his cock beginning to twitch, the need to cum after you denied him fogging his brain, “gonna cum, no— fuck,” 

Laughing, you lean down, placing a hand next to his head as you wait for him to look at you— his eyes are shiny and dazed as they meet yours, lips parted as he tries to lean up to kiss you.

“It’s okay,” you coo, putting your last efforts into quickening your pace; he groans, shaking his head as he realizes you’re doing it on purpose, your incentive nothing but a lie to tease him, “you can cum.” 

The way you sweetly coo his name after does it for him, your pussy warm and perfect as it clenches around him, the feeling of your lips crashing against his making him sigh in contentment. 

You’re ready to climb off him after feeling the last of his cum spurt inside you, but you’re not sure why you’re so surprised as Kai quickly flips the two of you, a small yelp leaving your lips as his hips begin to move— he’s a mess as he tucks his head into the crook of your neck, fucking his cum back into you and pressing his body flush against yours.

“Kai— oh shit,” you moan, surprised by the way he manages to fuck you despite the overstimulation, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room as he begins to piston into you. 

“You just,” he whines, his hand going down to grip your waist, pulling your hips flush against his as he rolls his hips into you, “you feel so good. Wanna make you cum.” 

In short, Hueningkai was obsessed with you. He couldn’t get enough, the need to feel you cumming around his cock sending him into a frenzy as he currently found himself fucking you past the overstimulation, quickly finding pleaure heating up again as you clenched around him, a moan escaping you as he brushed against a certain spot; it didn’t take long before he was aiming solely for that spot, his pelvis grinding against your clit as he did everything he could to make you feel good. 

“Kai, Kai,” you chant, breathless and dizzy from the way he fucked you, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten as you grab onto his shoulders, nails digging in and leaving small indents in his skin. 

The moment you finally clench around him, he pulls away, eager to watch your face contort into pleasure as you begin to gush around his cock; it isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you again, still thrusting into you softly as it slowly begins to leak out— you’re a panting mess as you meet his gaze— there’s an undeniable fire in his eyes, the sight only making your stomach sink in anticipation. 

You already know what he’s about to say by the way his hips grind softly against yours, his cock already beginning to stir inside you. 

“Can you give me one more?”

❅ ❅ ❅

“Order for Huening!” Your hands encase the two coffee cups instantly, thanking the barista before you hand one to your boyfriend; staring at the pretty name, you can’t help the way a smile breaks onto your face. 

It seems you’ve done it again; you’ve managed to achieve exactly what you wanted— his hand is comforting as you two walk into the office together, firm on the small of your back as he leads you to your office first; he’s hesitant to leave, but does so nonetheless the second you glare at him playfully— Yeojin approaches you after, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Wow,” she says, leaning against the doorframe of your office as she watches her friend walk away— not without sparing you one last glance, of course, “you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” 

“Yup,” you say, the pleased smile on your face only making Yeojin laugh.

“Try telling everyone here,” she comments, watching the way you only shrug carelessly, “everyone thinks he’s the one leading the relationship; except me, of course— granted, I’m the only one who is actually friends with him, so it’s a given that….”

Yeojin continues rambling, but you don’t pay much attention to it— after all, if they could only see your boyfriend, drunk off you and eager to please, you’re sure they’d change their minds immediately. 

But, that’s a sight for only you to see. 

❅ ❅ ❅

[wangxianficrecs]

Your Shelter by cosmicmilktea

Your Shelter

by cosmicmilktea

T, WIP, 2k, Wangxian

Part of the MDZS Mini Remix for Tired Adults™

Summary: “There is no need for sorry,” Lan-gege had told him, what seemed like such a long time ago, “Robes can be cleaned.” But a soiled robe in Lotus Pier means lashes on his back and a night of kneeling in the ancestral hall, even if Jiang Cheng and all the other disciples also came back with mud and reeds painting their robes. A soiled robe means hearing baba and mama's names spoken in malice and ridicule. It means a gentle chiding from shijie as she pats his head and offers him a bowl of warm soup, which only made him miss the warmth of Xian-gege's safe embrace. His back hurts, and his knees ache from kneeling so long. Beneath his robes, Lan-gege's ribbon presses close to his heart, and it reminds him how he had felt so safe with the two men. How baba and mama had also made him feel safe even without the shelter of gilded walls and roofs. He longs to be that safe again, the longing building and building in the too-small confines of his chest until Wei Ying can not hold it in any longer. He runs. Kay's comments: This story is such a little treat and I'm very curious to see how it continues! In which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have an incense burner dream where they care for young and still homeless A-Ying for a day, only it's actually a different reality and from that moment on, little A-Ying's life changes. He comes to Lotus Pier knowing what love and home feel like and so, he leaves soon after being taken in by the Jiangs and becomes a rogue cultivator instead. A very somft story. Excerpt: In the end, perhaps Lotus Pier is not so different from the streets, with how clearly your place is marked when you were not born a certain way. With how alright it is to do such bad things to others as long as you are big and strong and rich. Lotus Pier has food and it's warm, but A-Ying have been warm before even when he only had the skies above his head. Had his baba not chosen to leave despite all the warmth and safety of Lotus Pier, taking mama and A-Ying with him? Xian-gege and Lan-gege had been travelling as well, a donkey of their own trailing behind them. Had they not been happy? Wei Ying might be an ungrateful gutter rat, the uppity son of a servant, but his mama and baba had loved him and they were happy. Lan-gege and Xian-gege had saved him and was kind to him, the way the jiejies in the brothel and the old auntie in the Yiling market had been. And wouldn't that mean there are yet somewhere he could belong?

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, incense burner, wei wuxian leaves the yunmeng jiang sect, child abuse, rogue cultivator wei wuxian, friends to lovers, sunshot campaign, loss of parents, dimension travel, fluff and hurt/comfort, lan wangji/wei wuxian get a happy ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[takerfoxx]

In response to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, my (former) idols

I really didn’t want to have to do this.

So in addition to…=gestures vaguely=…all of that, the last few months have been kind of sucky when it comes to learning some really unpleasant things about artists that I looked up to, admired, and was in fact inspired by. I’ve already spoken about the Speaking Out movement revealing a lot of ugly behavior from various wrestlers, some of which I was big fans of, and then later we got Chris Jericho being a full-on MAGA. Yeah, that all sucked. But those were just performers whose work I enjoyed watching. The one that really hurt were writers who I deeply admired, whose stories I love, and who I was heavily influenced by.

The first, of course, was finding out that JK Rowling, the author of perhaps the single biggest YA fantasy series of all time Harry Potter, is a TERF. This really sucked for a number of reasons. Firstly, I really like Harry Potter! I mean, I’m not a super fan or anything. I came into it when things were kind of dying down, like the whole book series had already been released and there were only a few movies left, but I still really enjoyed it, have all the books and movies and a fair amount of merchandise swag, including a nifty wand I got at Universal Studios. Shit, I got two replicas of the Sword of Griffyindor, thanks to them screwing up my order in my favor and sending me a duplicate! They’re on my wall right across from me as I type this!

But in addition to writing a book series I really liked, JK Rowling was supposed to be one the good guys. She’s been vocally progressive, often openly comes down on British right-wing nonsense, has supported various persecuted minorities, and is on record as being one of the few self-made billionaires to actually stop being a billionaire for a time because she donated so much money to charity. And while we mock it now, her revealing Dumbledore as gay was a huge deal at the time. Plus, she cultivated this reputation as Auntie Jo, that cool, supportive aunt we all wanted.

But for a while her stock has been dropping. Her preference for confirming “representation” via tweets instead of explicitly putting it in the text of her stories has raised the question of queer-baiting, especially with a whole-ass movie with a young Dumbledore and Grindelwald to make their relationship explicit but failing to do so. The whole Nagini thing from the latest Fantastic Beasts movie was pretty gross. And re-examination of various problematic elements from the original novels has rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Now, none of these really looked to be intentionally malicious, of course. Just about everyone’s early work will have problematic elements; that’s just how people work. And the later stuff smacked more of ignorance than anything. But after all this time, it’s like, c’mon. You should know better by now.

But the biggie came when her transphobic views finally came to light. Now, this one had been brewing for a while, due to some questionable likes and statements on her twitter. But then she decided to just go public and published what essentially amounts to a TERF manifesto, one with a very “love the sinner, hate the sin” condescending attitude and had a real persecution complex air to it.

Now, I’m not going to go into detail about what the manifesto was about, what the circumstances surrounding it were, or how wrong it was. It’s already been raked over the coals, dissected, answered, and debunked in detail by people far more qualified than me, so odds are, you’re already well aware of its contents and the subsequent rebuttals. But the gist of it comes down to her basically believing that transwomen are actually cis men claiming to be trans so as to infiltrate and invade female-only spaces.

Yeah.

Okay, that’s gross, but…why? Why is someone so noted for being progressive and wanting to foster an inclusive environment making this the hill of exclusion that she wants to die on?

Well, that’s where things get tricky. She mentions that prior to Harry Potter, her first marriage was highly physically and sexually abusive, and when she escaped from that, she had no place to go, leading her to be homeless for a time.

Oh.

Well, that makes sense. Someone goes through a highly traumatic experience with a member of the opposite sex, has no support structure when she escapes it, is left to fend for herself, only to suddenly get rocketed into fame, fortune, and influence, which in turn leads to a Never Again mentality. She was hurt, no one was there to help her, and now she’s afraid of men invading women-only spaces to victimize others like she was victimized. So…literally transphobic. Literally a Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist.

Guys, this is so fucked up. Like, how do you even approach something like this? She’s a victim in every sense of the word, so of course she’s going to have physiological damage and a warped view of things. I mean, if I found out that a close friend of mine went through the same thing and had the same prejudices, I would be nothing but sympathetic! I mean, I’d still do what I can to convince her to overcome those prejudices, but I’d still show sympathy and support for what she went through.

Abuse warps people. There’s a reason why so many abusers are abuse survivors themselves. It makes you terrified of being hurt again and often causes people to adopt toxic behaviors, beliefs, and reactions to protect themselves. I’ve already talked about it at length while discussing She-Ra and its own handling of the cycle of abuse, which included franks discussions of Catra’s horrible behavior, why she was the way she was, while never losing sympathy for her and rooting for her to overcome it. So if JK Rowling is an abuse survivor, is it really right to come down on her for having warped views because of that abuse?

But that’s the problem. See, she isn’t your troubled friend that you’re trying to help. She isn’t your cousin Leslie who’s a really sweet person but unfortunately adopted some bad ideals due to trauma suffered. She JK freakin’ ROWLING, one of the most famous, wealthy, and influential women in the world. She has a platform of millions, if not billions, which means her voice lends credibility to her bigoted beliefs. Alt-righters and other TERFs have already swooped upon this for giving validation to their awful beliefs, which puts trans people even more at risk. And as horrible as Rowling’s experiences might have been, the trans community is often the victim of far worse, and they don’t have a mountain of money and an army of defenders to protect them like she does. I’ve said it time and time again: just because you’re a victim, that doesn’t give you the right to victimize others! And bringing things back to Catra, as much as I loved her redemption in the final season, she was still a TERRIBLE PERSON for a huge chunk of the show, one that needed to be stood up to and stopped.

So yeah. That’s the messiness that is JK Rowling.

Now, let’s talk about the one that really hurts. Let’s talk about Joss Whedon.

I’ve made no secret of what a huge Whedon fan I am. Unlike Rowling, I was a HUUUUUGE superfan. Seeing Serenity for the first time in theaters was akin to a religious awakening to me as a storyteller, making it one of my top three movies of all time. Firefly is my favorite show ever. And I adored Buffy, Angel, and Dollhouse as well. I love Cabin in the Woods and The Avengers. The very first fanfic I ever wrote was a Firefly fanfic that disappeared along with my old laptop. I know his style isn’t for everyone, but I cannot understate how much of a personal inspiration he is to me as a writer.

And like Rowling, Joss was supposed to be one of the good guys! Buffy was monumental in pushing the needle when it came to female empowerment. Will and Tara were groundbreaking as a gay couple. He’s been outspoken for years about his feminist views and beliefs and was seen as one of the most prominent and influential feminist voices in Hollywood!

And then things started to go bad.

One day he was on top of the world, the mastermind behind the first two Avenger movies. And the next, it seemed like he was in freefall. It’s hard to really pinpoint exactly when the change took place. Some would say him being brought in as a last-minute substitute for Zack Snyder to take over on Justice League after Snyder had to leave due to family tragedy, and the subsequent awful critical reception to that film tarnishing his image, even if those were very unique circumstances that couldn’t really be blamed on him. Others might point to Age of Ultron’s less than stellar reception, as well as criticism of some questionable jokes and certain creative decisions regarding the character of Black Widow, which then led to a more critical examination of how Whedon continues to write female characters, as while his work might have been revolutionary in the 90’s, his failure to evolve with the times had meant that many of his portrayals are now woefully outdated and problematic, with his vision for a Batgirl movie getting hit with a lot of backlash as a result.

Again, I’m not going to go into too much detail, as this is all public knowledge and can be easily looked up, but overall it seemed that Whedon entered into a period where he was getting criticized more than he was celebrated, and his image of a guaranteed hit maker was now in doubt.

But all of this wasn’t the big problem. All creators go through rises and slumps, and everyone hits points where they get hit with a barrage of criticism; that’s just part of being a public creative figure, especially a progressive one. And had nothing happened after, it would have probably faded, got forgotten, and Whedon would have moved onto the next project with no fuss.

But as it turned out, it wasn’t just a minor slump in his career. Instead, it was the priming of the pump.

In 2016, Whedon divorced his wife of sixteen years, Kai Cole, and in an open letter, Kai Cole accused him of being a serial cheater, who would have affairs with a great many women, from co-workers, to actresses, to friends, to even his fans. And in addition to raising questions of him possibly abusing his position as showrunner to elicit sex from those working on his projects, there also is the ugly question of how could someone who speaks so highly of women then go and backstab the person who was supposed to be the most important woman in his life, as well as lying to her and denying her the autonomy of deciding whether or not she even wanted to continue to have a relationship with him?

Furthermore, Whedon himself has not explicitly denied these accusations, and comments made by him seem only to confirm them.

Now if you’ll recall, I reacted publicly to this news, and despite my admiration of Whedon’s work, I came down on Kai Cole’s side, and stated that while things like marriage issues and infidelity were no one’s business but that of the couple’s, it did raise a lot of uncomfortable questions about how Whedon treated the women in his life and he really needed to get his shit in order.

But hey, a messy private life and a guy falling into temptation isn’t that big of a deal, right? Plenty of creators also go through multiple marriages and have problems staying faithful and still continue making great art. We’re all human, it’s a stressful job, and this shit just happens, right? Sure, it’s gross and a shitty thing to do, but ain’t no business of ours, right?

In late 2020, actor Ray Fisher, who played the role of Cyborg in Justice League, openly accused Joss Whedon of fostering a hostile work environment, claiming that the director’s behavior was abusive and unprofessional, and that Whedon in turn was protected by DC executives.

DC and Warner Bros. came down against Fisher, claiming they had done an internal investigation that turned up no evidence of wrongdoing (yeah, sure they did), and soon Fisher was out as Cyborg, apparently for rocking the boat.

But then Charisma Carpenter, noted for her important role as Cordelia Chase in both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, then spoke up, claiming to be inspired by Fisher in doing so. She described Whedon did indeed foster a hostile work environment on his projects, that his often acted in a toxic manner, from asking incredibly invasive and inappropriate questions regarding her pregnancy to insulting her on set. She said that she made excuses for him for years, but after undergoing a lot of therapy and reading what Ray Fisher had to say, she felt compelled to speak out.

And this just open the floodgates. Other actors and actresses also came forward, some with stories of their own, others to offer support. Even Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar, confirmed Carpenter’s stories and said that she no longer wanted to be associated with Whedon. Michelle Trachtenberg, who played the character of Dawn, stated that she also experienced toxic treatment from Whedon despite her being a minor at the time, and says that the set had a rule that Whedon wasn’t allowed to be alone with her again, which really raises some sickening questions of what happened the first time. Even male stars have spoken out, from words of support and apologies for not speaking up earlier from Anthony Stewart Head and David Boreanaz, to an earlier interview with James Marsters, in which he described being terrified of Whedon, mainly due to an instance when Whedon was frustrated with the popularity of Marsters’s character of Spike messing with his plans and physically and verbally taking it out on the actor. There have been many corroborating stories of Whedon being casually cruel on set, on seemingly taking delight in making his fellow show writers cry, and even the man himself admitting to enjoying fostering a hostile work environment during his director commentary of the Avengers. We’ve joked about Whedon’s supposed sadism for years, but that was in regards to how he treated the characters in his stories, not the people helping him make them!

So yeah. That’s the problem with Joss Whedon.

So, do I think that Joss Whedon is somehow some kind of sociopath who lied about his feminist principles and deliberately put on a progressive façade specifically to get into a position of power so he could torment people? No, of course not. I think he was sincere about his beliefs, and I do think he didn’t realize the wrongness of his behavior. But that’s kind of the problem. See, it’s one thing to have kind of a trollishness to your nature, a sort of sadistic side. No one can help that. But when someone with that quality gets put into a position of power in which they are protected by both the higher-ups and their legions of fans, they are allowed to mistreat and continue to mistreat people. And by never suffering any consequences, that sort of toxic behavior becomes internalized, becomes a habit, becomes their moda operandi. And when you’re constantly getting praised as a creative genius and a wonderful feminist voice, any self-criticism just gets wiped away, and you think yourself above reproach, leading to what Joss Whedon became and went on being.

And you know what scares me the most about this particular issue? It’s not that I am a fan of his stories. It’s that I can so easily see myself turning out the same way.

Look, I’ll be upfront about it: I’m kind of a sadist myself. You’ve seen it in my stories, you’ve seen me gloating after a particularly dark plot twist makes my readers freak out. That sort of stuff is fun to me. There’s a reason why I have a much easier time in the dark and violent scenes, because I’m channeling something ugly within me. We all have a dark side, and this is mine.

But UNLIKE Whedon, that doesn’t carry over to how I treat people in real life (unless Monopoly or Mario Party are involved, then it’s fair game). Maybe it’s because I wasn’t given the sort of power and praise he did so early, and I was always taught to be considerate of other people’s feelings, but if I ever find out that I hurt another person or went too fair, I feel TERRIBLE, and it just throws me off all day until I apologize. Even if I don’t notice right away that what I said or did wasn’t cool (autistic, remember?), when it’s pointed out to me and I have some time to think on it, yeah, the guilt is on and I make a point to apologize to whoever I’ve hurt. I’ve even made a point to apologize to members of my family for inconsiderate stuff I said years ago as a little punk kid because it wouldn’t stop bugging me.

So maybe Whedon got too big, too fast. Maybe putting people on these sorts of pedestals, especially progressive ones, is ultimately a bad thing.

So where does this leave us? How are we to treat JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, one who developed a lot of transphobia due to abuse suffered while the other became a toxic individual due to unchecked control and a lack of consequences? Can we still enjoy their stories despite them now being colored by their creators’ falls from grace? Can we separate the art from the artist, or do we have to do a clean split?

Honestly, I feel that has to come down to the individual. I can’t remove the influence Rowling and Whedon have had on me as a storyteller, and I still highly respect both of their talents despite taking major issue with their problems as people. And I’m not going go throw away all of my Harry Potter or Firefly stuff. Because that’s my stuff. It has value to me, it doesn’t represent the issues with their creators, and a lot of it was gifts from people who are dear to me. Though I do think it’ll be a long time before I return to either of their work, as I just don’t have the stomach for it now.

But I will be avoiding any projects they have in the future. I don’t want to put money in their pockets that might go on to support their toxic beliefs or behavior. And as for royalties for their past work that would also support the cast and crew of the Harry Potter films or those who worked on Whedon’s shows who do not deserve to lose money because we don’t want any of that money going to the creators? Er, that question is a little above my paygrade. I don’t know. You’ll have to all decide for yourselves. As for me, I still have a lot of thinking to do.

Regardless though, if I or anyone else is still able to enjoy their work, then it’s important to not divorce what these people said or did from the art they created, even if it makes enjoying that art less fun. It’s important to be critical about what we enjoy, to acknowledge the bad aspects along with the good, and open up discussion of those elements, because that’s what mature adults are supposed to do. 

And as for JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, whose stories I love, whose talent I admire, and whose past good work I’ll happily acknowledge, I do hope they both experience some sort of realization and enter into a period of self-examination that leads to them getting help for their issues, for Rowling to get help in coming to terms with her trauma and realizing that she’s wrong about the trans community and a full apology, and for Whedon to also come to terms with his toxic behavior and how he treats people, for him to make no excuse for what he did and sincerely apologize to those he hurt and work on bettering himself, as well as them both examining some of the more problematic tropes still present in their works. Because despite everything, I do feel that they can still be a creative force of good, and it would be a shame if they let themselves self-destruct.

But if not, then if it comes down to choosing between Rowling and the protecting the trans community, if it comes down between choosing between letting Whedon continue to make shows and protecting actors and writers from his abusive behavior, then I know who I’m siding with, and it ain’t the two individuals this whole essay is about. No story, no matter how good, no matter how creative, is worth letting sacrificing vulnerable people in order for it to be made.

[mothernatureknows]

Ok for that multimuse grape vine meme *cracks knuckles*

🍇 Kai x Zephyr about each other?

 💞 Maddy’s thoughts on possible Luna x Minwoo? 👀 or Peter…or both 👀 + Eve’s thoughts on Maddy x Min?

📂 Hazel’s thoughts on our Mer au kai x min thread? Or zephyr’s thoughts??

 👍 something Maddy likes about Luna and Luna likes about Maddy? And something Kai and Zephyr like about Hazel (and Hazel likes about them???)

🍇 - Muse A to comment on Muse B’s eating habit (favorite food, least favorite, eating etiquette, ect) -- Kai & Zephyr

"Zephyr's eating habits are honestly quite shameful. The amount of meat I have seen this bird scarf down throughout our traveling is really sickening," Kai manages to say with a relatively straight face, a slight shiver of disgust running down his spine. "The worst part of it is that he favors fish! He openly flaunts his fish tacos and wild salmon in front of my face and expects me to just accept it. I almost smacked him because a piece of dead fish landed on my plate once." The siren sighs, shaking his head. "I got him back though," he smirks, "He found an unsettling pile of birdseed in his meals for a week."

"Kai is a little too special about his food. Most of the time, he's complaining about there not being enough sea-friendly meals," Zephyr rolls his eyes. "I mean, the dude doesn't just go out there and try some food, y'know? I get the whole 'no-fish' thing, but it gets annoying sometimes when you kindly offer something to someone, and they just don't want it because they're picky." He sighs. "One thing I can commend him on: he makes a really mean, vegan scallops dish. It tastes so good."

💞- Muse A to comment on Muse B’s relationships and/or people they know

Maddy on Luna x Minwoo:

"Luna and Minwoo? Well, I know they both make an excellent babysitting team! Whenever Min and I are out, they always take really good care of them and the girls absolutely love their auntie and uncle," she says, absentmindedly writing down some errands for work. "Well, come to think of it, Penelope has asked if they were together, since they are auntie and uncle...I think I might be able to see it? Luna is really secretive about her love interests, and I don't want to bother her with any personal questions or assume otherwise. Minwoo is a sweetheart, but I don't know if Luna would be too much for him?" her brows furrow. "I don't mean to be condescending about Luna's behavior but she can be a little...intense, sometimes. Minwoo’s more gentle and soft-spoken, compared to her. Then again, Minwoo might just be the right person to anchor her when it all gets to be too much. They could easily balance each other out, too. Whatever they choose, I will definitely support it!"

Maddy on Luna x Peter:

"Luna and Peter?" lips pout in pensive thought. "...I will assume you mean university Peter and not her brother, considering the circumstances. But I do think they'd compliment each other very well! I mean, we all went to uni together and Peter and Luna had a history of joking around with each other. I did sense that maybe something was there, and maybe something had happened between them before? Once, when Luna was really drunk, she briefly mentioned that Peter looked really nice in scrubs," Maddy giggles. "It was the first I'd heard of something like that from her. Besides, I'd only ever seen Peter wear scrubs at work, so Luna must've stumbled upon him at the hospital. Regardless, if they do like each other and want to give it a try, I will definitely support it!"

Eve on Maddy x Minjae:

"Oh my god, fucking adorable. Seriously! Look, normally, couples that are into the cute, lovey-dovey shit, make me gag a lil' bit, but not these two. Yes, I'm biased because she's my sister, and I haven't seen her in a long time, but there's something about the way they do it," Eve explains, face lit up. "Like, holy shit, I have NEVER seen two people simp over each other so much. It's a healthy simping, mind you, and there's nothing toxic that I've noticed or heard from Maddy. Plus, Maddy has told me, in great detail, how much she loves that man. Makin' me feel jealous sometimes," she laughs. "In all seriousness though, they really are wonderful together. After what Maddy and I had been through, it’s relieving to see someone love and accept her for who she is.”

📂  - Muse A to comment something about a current thread of Muse B’s

Hazel’s reaction to Kai and merman!Minjae thread:

The redhead’s face betrays her concern for once, worry tainting her irises. “I would assume Kai to be more cautious, especially concerning such a dangerous task as this. One small mistake and, not only would he risk his own life, but his brother’s, Minjae’s, and Madeline’s. Perhaps...if he had only gone through with his mission, only one life would’ve been taken and this could have all been avoided. Sadly, it is that small portion of humanity in him that has caused him to stray,” she shakes her head. “And Minjae? Dead weight. He has no reason to be there and is intentionally jeopardizing Kai and his own life. Could he not call upon the mers to assist them both? They could offer much more protection and defense than the sirens.”

Zephyr’s reaction to Kai and merman!Minjae thread:

“Y’know, I really gotta commend Kai on his choices. Yes, some of them were dumb and I’m sure Hazel will disagree with me, but hear me out on this,” he begins, sitting up straighter. “He had a mission to do, a fairly difficult one. I mean, I get it, you gotta kill someone because they could easily be the cause of your and your people’s death. Since Kai is a rule follower, of course, he would go forth in doing that mission. But Kai is also not that cold-hearted, unlike the rest of the sirens. So, this conflict between him and Minjae, over killing an innocent human who, really, has an innocent belief in mermaids and sirens, is understandable. Kai decided to follow his heart and it ended up getting him a new best friend and the ability to love which, I think, is BEAUTIFUL,” Zephyr explains. “Biggest mistake though? Staying. Near. The. Beach. He’s got connections, right? Get your ass to the desert! Nobody’s gonna follow you there, trust me.”

👍 - something Muse A likes about Muse B

Maddy about Luna:

“I would say Luna’s bravery. Luna has always had a very strong personality and she is not afraid of being outspoken or facing situations head on. She never seems afraid of anything, no matter how big or small. She definitely inspires me to not be so afraid of certain situations or people, nor to be so quiet about something that I’m uncomfortable with.”

Luna about Maddy:

“Her kindness. Never, in all my life, have I met someone as nice as Maddy,” she states bluntly. “Coming from a terrible neighborhood and being around only shitty people, Maddy was nothing like anyone I had come across. Didn’t matter how terrible someone was, she would not stop being kind. Pissed me off at first, yeah, but that’s who she is. It’s helped me to not be such an asshole...sometimes.” 

Kai about Hazel:

“Must I narrow it down to just one thing?” Kai laughs, clearing his throat. “Hmm...Hazel’s wisdom. Ever since we met, Hazel had this old soul, as deep as Voda’s main ocean. She always knows what to say, regardless of what we’re doing. She’s helped me out of many difficult situations and skyrocketed our squadron to the elites. Her words are forever powerful and it never fails to amaze me to what she’ll say next.”

Zephyr about Hazel:

“Hmm, I’d say her leadership. I mean, she’s obviously our squadron leader, right?” he chuckles, chewing at his bottom lip. “Hazel has always had this natural leadership aspect. In our final training days, when they were feeling out which groups would go better together, we were joined up and we all just naturally turned to her. She’s got her flaws, yeah, but she takes full responsibility of everything we do and leads fairly and justly...and I think that’s pretty admirable.”

Hazel about Kai and Zephyr:

“They both have their own sorts of quirks that I appreciate. With Kai, I would say that I like his loyalty. Kai’s people greatly value loyalty and he has come to encompass that, wherein you may trust that he will remain faithful. Never has he abandoned his post or given reason to any of us to distrust him. Concerning Zephyr, I like his lightheartedness. We are one of the more serious squadrons and we tend to get major tasks that do not allow room for any dilly-dallying. So, it is a breath of fresh air to have someone joke around and help us relax...in a reasonable manner, of course.”

[tamorasky]

Mistress Anna Chapter 15

Rating: M

Summary: It wasn’t uncommon for the women to be eventually cast aside, Anna was just naive enough to believe it would never happen to her.

Relationships: Anna/Kristoff 

Words: 4365

Canadian Frontier Au

Masterlist 

AO3

Bulda insists that Anna, Eliza and Elsa join her family for dinner the night they return to Ahothallan. Despite the journey home took three days, and the fatigue everyone felt, the older woman and her eldest daughter practically burst with excitement when the Arneson sisters arrive at the cabin.

The women stand outside around a makeshift table, cutting vegetables for dinner while the children around them chased one another. The men and Elsa went to sit by the river, lazily fishing and drinking whiskey together, away from the noise.

Anna has Eliza perched on her hip while carefully peeling the potatoes with a small knife. Her feet begin to hurt as she stands, shifting on her legs to ease the tension building in them.

"Anna," Bulda calls, looking up at the woman across from her. "You look, tired dear, why don't you take a rest."

Grateful at the older woman's offer, Anna places the potato on the table, stepping away from the surface with a smile. Anna carries Eliza out to the field next to Bulda and Cliff's cottage, desperately wanting to find solace amongst the chaos. She settles in the prairie grass and foxtails, plucking the latter from the ground.

Her daughter sits on her lap, cooing as Anna brushes a foxtail against her cheeks. The young woman giggles as Eliza clumsily grabs the plant.

"Do you like that?" Anna asks, quickly stopping Eliza from putting the foxtail in her mouth. "Trust me, darling, you do not want to do that."

The little girl whines as Anna pulls it away from her mouth, being quickly sated when her mother hands the plant back to her. With a smile, Anna brushes an auburn curl away from Eliza's forehead, watching her little girl play with the plant's bristles.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The voice behind her causes the young woman to jump in surprise. Looking over her shoulder, Anna sees her sister standing behind her. Elsa's hands are tucked into her trousers, and the sleeves of her shirt are rolled up as she stares down at her younger sister.

"Of course," Anna responds, cursing to herself as she confuses herself with her wording. "I-I mean you can join me if you want to."

Elsa politely smiles as she kneels across from her. While the brunette settles, Eliza drops the foxtail, reaching out for her auntie instead. Without any hesitation, Anna hands Elsa the toddler. The older sister accepts the toddler with a grin, holding Eliza to make her stand on her legs.

"Taanishi shakihew." Elsa says, pressing a kiss to Eliza's chubby cheek. Anna feels a twinge in her chest as Elsa speaks to her daughter in Michif, realizing she can't understand most of the words her sister speaks.

The language she had once spoken fluently slowly faded from her memory as English took its place in Ahtohallan as more English traders came through. Hans had always discouraged her from speaking what little Michif she knew to Eliza. He'd always scold her, stating that if she were to speak another language, it should be French. Her time in Arendelle had caused further declined her ability to speak it, now only left with fragments the language her mother once spoke.

Anna's gaze remains focused on Eliza, who giggles as Elsa settles the little girl on her lap. She opens her mouth briefly, trying to speak to her sister, but no words come out, glancing back down at the ground to avoid eye contact with the woman seated across from her.

"I'm surprised Bulda has this much energy after such a long journey." Anna finally comments, unable to fathom the silence between them any longer.

Elsa hums in agreement, biting her lip nervously as she stares at her sister. "and what is that amazing smell?"

Both women inhale deeply, taking in the scent that carries through the field before both of them smile at one another.

"Bannock!" They exclaim, giggling at their synchronized response. Bulda's fried bread had always been their favorite as children. Her face hurts as she grins widely, unable to contain her excitement that they were speaking as they once had.

Elsa peers at her sister, her smile dropping as she regards her. She sighs, adjusting Eliza in her lap as Honeymaren's words echo in her head. Elsa had to make things right between them.

"Anna, the other night at Kai and Gerda's home…" She trails off, unsure what to say to her sister.

The auburn-haired woman stares at Elsa, her eyes searching her sister’s expression, knowing she struggles with what to say. "It's okay, you were right. I was reckless, and I should've stayed at home, as you said."

"What I said to you wasn't right." Elsa looks down at her hands, feeling ashamed of her behavior towards her little sister, the very person she should be looking out for, not ostracising her. "It was cruel and unwarranted and…I am sorry for how I've treated you and everything I have said to you."

On reflex, Anna reaches out, placing her hand on Elsa's. "Believe it or not, you've treated me better than most did in Arendelle."

"That doesn't matter." Elsa shakes her head, removing her hand from Anna’s grasp. "Mama would have been appalled with me and the way I've treated you."

A small smile comes to Anna's face as she thinks back to their mother. "She would've done that thing where she spoke too fast in Michif; you couldn't understand her."

"Then swats at you with whatever she was holding." Elsa's mouth curves up slightly; her gaze still focused on the small girl on her lap. "It used to terrify me when she did that."

"Me too." Anna agrees, still staring at her sister, whose smile has fallen once again, clearly thinking about their mother.

"She would have dealt with all of this much better than I have." The older sister states, knowing that Iduna would have welcomed Anna back into their home with open arms and would helped her readjust to their society.

Anna shrugs, "You've been doing the best you can manage. I know it's a lot with both Eliza and me. I've always have been a handful."

Elsa wills herself to look her younger sister, her sky blues eyes brimming with unshed tears. "That doesn't change anything. You and Eliza belong here in Ahtohallan; mother would have wanted you here with us."

"And you?" Anna inquires, her brows knitting together as she averts her sister's gaze. Elsa sighs, bringing concern to Anna. Elsa may have said that she belongs, but it didn't mean that her older sister wanted her there.

"Of course, I do." Elsa nods, finally reaching out to her sister to place her hand over Anna's. "Do you want to stay with me?"

"You're my sister." She replies, a small smile coming to her face as she squeezes Elsa’s hand slightly. "I love you."

The tears that brim Elsa's eyes finally fall down her cheek; she quickly wipes them away with the palm of her hand. She clears her throat, staring up at the sky to stop the tears. At the sight of her sister crying, Anna finds tears forming in her eyes.

"Don't cry." Elsa croaks. "If you cry, then I'll cry harder, and Bulda will know then we’ll have to talk about it."

"I don't understand how that woman knows these things." Anna giggles, wiping her eyes with the corner of her sleeve.

"Me either." Elsa chuckles, her tears finally stopping. Both of the women sigh, calming down from the various emotions they are going through. "We should be getting back."

Anna nods, blinking away the rest of her tears as she stands from the ground. She takes Eliza from her sister so the brunette can rise from the field with ease. As Elsa stands from the ground, she takes her niece back into her arms, wanting to hold her namesake as much as possible. She had missed so much in Eliza's life; she isn't going to miss anymore.

As the two women walk back towards the cabin, Anna suppresses the urge to take her sister's arm in her own; not wanting to overstep her boundaries. Bulda looks on as the two women walk back onto the property, grinning as she stares at the sisters.

"You two made it back in time.” Bulda greets the sisters with a smile, turning to the older one.  “Elsa, would you go get the men and tell them supper is ready? That is if they are sober enough to walk back here."

"Of course." Elsa politely smiles, handing Eliza to Marguerite before withdrawing from the women, making her way to the riverbank to collect the men.

"Anna, would you be a dear and grab Kristoff's knife from his bag? It seems like Cliff took mine to the river to gut the fish."

"Of course, where is his bag?"

"It's in the house; it'll be on the old bed," Bulda states, placing down the last plate in her hand. Anna nods in response, walking into the house without another word. As she passes the threshold of the cabin, a familiar smell overtakes Anna's senses.

The small cabin smells like cedarwood, overwhelmingly so causing her eyes to tear up at the scent. Looking around the small room, Anna sees the only bed tucked away in the corner of the room beside a small writing desk where a ratted bag lies.

The young woman makes her way to the writing desk, assuming the bag is Kristoff's. She feels self-conscious as she opens the bag, feeling uncomfortable with going through Kristoff's things without his permission.

Anna doesn't look in the bag, instead of letting her fingers brush against the various items, trying to locate the knife. She stops as her fingers brush something soft, woollen in texture. Furrowing her brows, Anna grabs the soft item, bringing it to the surface to get a better look at the object.

Her heart pounds as she sees an arrowed sash; the blue, black, red and white yarn interwoven; small yellow flowers beaded close to the fringe. She immediately recognizes it, though some of the colours have faded, and a few small beads have fallen off. Anna's hands tremble as she holds the garment.

A sash for my Kristoff.

That's what she had told Hans in what seemed like an eternity ago. Brushing her thumb over the beads, a small smile comes to her face. Nostalgia hitting her as she thinks back to that time when everything had been more uncomplicated in her life.  

Anna looks over her shoulder as she hears footsteps in the cabin. Kristoff stands behind her, hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes focused on the sash in her hands. She turns to face him, her fingers still brushing over the garment.

"You kept it." She states, her voice hoarse as her gaze remains fixated on him.

He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Y-yeah, I did."

"Why?" Anna remains unblinking as she waits for his answer. Kristoff looks down at his shoes, then finally looks up to meet her gaze.

"Why wouldn't I?" He sighs. Anna stares back down at the sash, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she recalls the painstaking effort she put into making this gift.

"I'm just surprised." She clears her throat. "You typically lose every sash given to you."

"Yeah…well, this one is different."

"How so?" Anna knows she is pressing buttons, but she doesn't care. The need to understand why Kristoff kept the sash she made him, bothering her to no end.

"Because…" He trails off with a huff. Anna stares at him, still unblinking as he thinks about his next words. Her heart races as she waits for his answer. He doesn't talk, instead  peering down at her as if she already knew the answer.

Anna nods, placing the sash behind her on the writing desk. "Yo-your mother needs a knife. I was searching for it, but now you're here, so…you can bring it to her."

She slips past Kristoff, her shoulder brushing his bicep as she walks towards the cottage's door.

Everyone is crowded around the table as she steps out of the cottage, Eliza settled upon Marguerite's lap as Sven tickles her feet. Bulda carries around her youngest grandchild, while Louise trails after Angelique. Cliff and Gabriel sit at the end of the table, arguing over politics while the Olaf and Guillaume chase one another, weaving through the maze of adults.

Elsa looks up to her sister from beside Marguerite, a reassuring smile coming to her face. Anna descends from the porch, coming to stand beside Bulda.

"I couldn't find Kristoff's knife," Anna states, placing a hand on the older woman's shoulder. "He's looking for it now."

"Thank you for looking, dear." Bulda looks up from the table, scanning the area. "Why don't you go sit beside Sven, that way you are closer to Eliza."

Anna nods, withdrawing from the woman to sit next to the Newfoundlander. He turns to her with a smile.

"You're not getting your child back." He jokes, nudging Anna's shoulder as she sits down. She giggles at his words, watching as Eliza buries her head into the crook of Marguerite's arm as if she was trying to hide from Sven.

She watches as Kristoff emerges from the house, the knife in his hands as he approaches his mother. He hands the knife to Bulda with a smile, the older woman places her hand on his neck, causing him to bend slightly so she can press a kiss to his cheek.

Anna feels self-conscious as Bulda points at her, unable but to feel as if she has done something wrong. Kristoff nods before stalking away from his mother, coming to sit in the empty seat next to her.

She looks down at her lap to avoid eye-contact with him, her chest constricting at how close they were seated as their shoulders nearly touch one another. Eliza's squeals tears Anna's gaze away from the purple of her skirt, instead of looking towards her daughter.

The little girl reaches forward towards her, leaning forward on Marguerite's lap. The adults laugh at the toddler's reaction.

"Looks like you were wrong." Marguerite teases Sven, handing Eliza over to Sven, who then hands her to Anna. Eliza stands on Anna's lap, being held up by her armpits.

"Hello, my darling." Anna coos, pressing a kiss to her daughter's chubby cheek. Her brows knit together as Eliza tries to turn away from her. Eliza's arms are still outstretched to her side, reaching to the man seated next to her.

Kristoff watches the little girl with a smile, pinching her nose between his thumb and forefinger lightly, emitting a loud shriek from Eliza. Anna smiles as she watches her childhood friend interact with her daughter, her gaze fixated on the way Kristoff grins while he plays with Eliza.

"Here, Anna, I'll take her." He offers, glancing up at Anna briefly before focusing his attention back on the toddler.

"Are you certain? She's not the easiest to handle at mealtime."

"Of course, I'm certain," Kristoff reassures her. "Come here, moon face." He picks Eliza up from her mothers' lap to settle her on his own. Anna can't help but smile at the nickname Kristoff had called her daughter.

"Moonface?" She questions, raising her brows in response. Kristoff chuckles as Eliza buries her hands into his beard.

"Yeah…well…because she has really round cheeks, her face looks like a moon." He replies. Anna stares at him, noticing the blush that spreads up his neck. Bringing her gaze forward, she sees Bulda staring at the three of them, a smile spreading across her face as she watches them interact with one another.

Anna stares back down at her lap, avoiding eye contact with the other woman who continues to stare at the couple knowingly. In the corner of her eye, she catches the smile Kristoff flashes her before turning his attention back to Eliza. A small smile crossing her features as her daughter giggles loudly.

Anna had been putting this off for months now. When she first arrived in Ahtohallan, she couldn't bear the thought of visiting without the support of Elsa, but now everything is changing between them, ever since their conversation nearly a week ago.

She dresses in the green dress Iduna had made for her two years ago, the last time her father would visit them as a family. As she finishes buttoning the back of her dress, Anna makes her way to the armoire. She stands in front of the open doors, grabbing a lilac dress for Eliza, who sits happily on the bed.

"Alright, sweetheart." Anna coos as she approaches her daughter, pushing away Eliza's chubby arms as she attempts to undress her from the nightgown. The woman throws her daughter's nightgown towards the pillows before slipping the dress over Eliza's head, careful not to be too rough when putting her arms through the sleeves.  

"There we are!" She exclaims, picking the toddler up from the bed. As they walk towards the cabin door, Anna straightens out the skirt of Eliza's dress; covering her daughter’s bottom before leaving the house.

She squints as they step through the threshold of the cottage; the sun already high and hot in the sky. Anna steps off the porch, searching the property for any evidence to see if Elsa is still on the lot. The tracks of her sister’s boots in the dirt, which lead away from the house, give the young woman an indication that Elsa has already left for the day. With a sigh, Anna makes her way towards the road, disappointed that her sister isn't with her.

It isn't going to be easy.

Her heartbeat hammers in her ears as she approaches closer to the place; she shakes with anxiety with every step. Anna holds Eliza close to her, the presence of her daughter bringing some comfort to the young mother.

Anna stops as she approaches the church, the high wooden steeple looming over her as she stares at it. Stepping onto the wooden pathway, Anna lets out a shaky breath trying to steady her shaking hands, so she doesn't drop Eliza.

She steps off of the pathway onto the grass halfway to the church building. The high and unkempt grass tickles her legs as she walks through the bush as they approach the gated off section. Anna shifts Eliza on her hip as she slowly pushes the iron gate open, leaving it unlatched as she walks through the rows of crosses.

Her eyes scan each name inscribed on the white wooden crosses as she passes each one, stopping as she finally comes across the name. Anna kneels in front of the cross, placing Eliza on her lap as she numbly stares at it:

Iduna Josette Baptiste 1811-1852

Anna doesn't say anything; the only noises are the birds chirping, and Eliza's babbles as she plays with the foxtails growing near her Noohkoom's grave. A smile crosses her features as Eliza wobbly stands up, putting her hands against the wood.

She moves closer to the cross, placing a hand on her daughter’s back. "Yeah, honey, that's your Noohkoom." She pulls Eliza back onto her lap, resting her cheek against her daughter's head.

Her eyes begin to flutter as tears start to form, thinking about how her daughter would never meet her grandmother. Tears spill over as she begins to reflect that she'll never hear or speak to her own mother ever again. Anna had always assumed as a child and young woman, that Iduna would be there helping her with motherhood, but she isn't.

She hadn't even been able to mourn her properly; Hans had disallowed her to attend the funeral to mourn with her sister and her community. He had forbidden her from cutting her hair after the burial, stating it would take away from her femininity.

Staring at the grave, Anna notices how the white paint of the cross is already chipping away from the wood. Anna collects Eliza into her arms as she stands from the grass, unbothered by the burrs that stick to the fabric.

Reluctantly she turns away from the cross, stepping through the brush to make her way back to the road. Anna looks back to her mother's cross as she closes the iron gate. Her hand drags against the cold metal as she pulls away from the cemetery, tears still pooling in her eyes as she walks down the road back to their home.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Anna stares into the darkroom of the cabin. She looks over her shoulder to ensure Eliza still slept soundly beside her, nestled between two pillows. Carefully Anna rises from the bed cautious not to disturb her sleeping daughter.

She shivers as she walks towards the table, the cold floor sending chills into her body with every step. Anna sits at the surface, frustration bubbling up inside of her due to her inability to sleep. She knows she has been blessed with a child who, for the most part, sleeps soundly throughout the night; yet it evades her.

As Anna taps her fingers against the pinewood, her forefinger brushes against a cold metal object, pulling the young woman out of her thoughts. On instinct, Anna pulls her hand away before she hesitantly reaches out to the object. It’s Elsa’s knife, the curve and point of the steel and carved handle unmistakable in her hands. Anna traces her fingers against the indentations of the handle, staring down at the item.

Standing from the table, Anna looks over her shoulder to confirm that Eliza is still sleeping. She quietly pads across the room, knife still in hand as she makes her way towards the front door. As she opens the door, Anna winces as it creaks loudly on its hinge. She quickly slips through the doorway, gently shutting it, trying not to make any more noise.

Anna settles herself on the porch, her feet dangling off the side as she ignores the shiver that pulses through her body. Much to her relief, the moon provides enough light for her to complete the task ahead of her; she had forgotten a lamp inside and knows she won’t carry through with this if she returns inside.

The ribbon that secures her loose braid falls away as Anna tugs on it. She brushes her fingers through her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.

She hadn’t cut it since she was a child when her Noohkoom passed, she was nine-years-old. Now her hair nearly touches her waist, something which always irritated her as a teen. She hated the way it tangled and collected various bits of nature; leaves were commonly found in her curls at bedtime.

Recalling Iduna patiently brushing sap out of her daughter’s hair, telling her and Elsa that their hair is a connection to their culture and heritage, only to be cut when someone in the community passes or when they have experienced significant loss.

It wasn’t until Arendelle did Anna learn to love her hair; Hans had always called it her greatest beauty. She always savoured the way Hans would run his fingers through it when he made love to her, how he used to tell her that it made her seem more ladylike; despite her unladylike disposition.

Her face drops as she thinks about all of the compliments he used to give her, knowing he most likely has used them with her; that he whispers the same sweet words he once whispered to Anna, how he places his lips against the shell of her ear to whisper them as his forefinger brushes against her shoulder before lowering her onto their bed to take her.

She had experienced loss since leaving for Arendelle. Anna had lost her mother to disease before the birth of her daughter. She had lost her language, her identity and her culture; everything her hair is supposed to symbolize. She had lost the man she loved.

Without any thought, she grabs the ends of her hair, striking at it with the knife. A few pieces fall to the porch, pooling on her thighs as she cuts away at it. Her focus intensifying, wanting it gone so desperately she doesn’t hear the door open.

“Anna?” Elsa’s voice rings throughout the darkness. Looking at her younger sister, the ends of her hair jagged and strewn about the porch. Elsa takes a step closer to Anna, offering her a small smile. “Would you help with that?”

The auburn-haired woman nods, feeling like a child as Elsa kneels behind her. Elsa’s hand is outstretched, requesting the knife still in Anna’s hand. Anna relinquishes the blade over to her sister, placing her hands on her thighs, jumping slightly as Elsa brushes the hair back to collect it.

Anna draws her knees up to her chest, sitting still as possible while Elsa cuts away at the past. Neither of them speak, the older sister focusing on the hair falling away while the younger stares out into the night.

“Here.” Elsa finally says, holding out the auburn tresses over Anna’s shoulder. With her opposite hand, Anna takes the hair, bundling the strands with the ribbon. Reaching behind her back, Anna feels her hair has been cut to the middle of her shoulder blades.

“Thank you.” She says, tears pooling in her eyes as she stares at the cut hair. On instinct, Anna leans back, resting against her sister. Elsa’s hand hovers over Anna, surprised at the affectionate gesture. With a smile Elsa crosses her arm over Anna’s chest, resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder.

“Do you think she’s really up there?” Anna asks, breaking the silence between the two of them. Elsa sighs, a tear slipping down her cheek as she ponders about their mother’s spirit.

“I do.” She croaks, trying to hide her tears. Anna places her hand over her sister’s, relaxing in her embrace as they sit together looking up at the sky, tears pooling in both of their eyes as they reflect on the past. Both of them vowing to move forward to heal and to help one another, no matter what happened now.

Notes: 

So yeah, in many Indigenous cultures hair is seen as sacred due to varying different reasons depending on the tribe/band and traditionally is only cut when someone close has died or they experienced loss.

I'll be completely honest, I tried to find anything on Metis haircutting traditions and didn't really come up with a lot. So I based most of this chapter on Cree views of cutting hair (mostly because the girls have Cree ancestry). One article I found was on the cutting of hair at Residential schools for Metis children, so that gave me the impression that they hold it in the same regard. But I apologize if that's not actually the case.

THANKS TO LIV!!! FOR BEING SO WONDERFUL AND SMART. Helping me with wording for this chapter and teaching me English rules, it's very appreciated and ilysm!

[onewfantaesy]

Step Family AU

By Christmas of Taemin’s eighth grade year, Taemin is officially in recovery. He’s eating a normal teenager amount of food at the family Christmas dinner. He’s smiling more. He’s still seeing a therapist, but it’s twice a month instead of weekly. Kai is apparently doing better as well. Kibum is so relieved when his mother tells him the news that he wants to cry.

Kibum is still careful around him. Still treats him like he might break, like he might pass out at any moment. If Taemin notices, or doesn’t like it, he doesn’t say anything. For the most part, the two of them ignore each other. By Taemin’s fourteenth birthday, Kibum is comvinced the year or so of Taemin having an eating disorder was a fluke. Maybe it was a puberty thing.

But then the next school year, Taemin is a freshman and Kibum is a senior. The high schoolers all have lunch at the same time, and after a month or so, Kibum notices something off. Taemin had lost some weight - his cheeks weren’t as chubby as usual - and Kibum just happened to look at the right time.

Taemin was throwing away his lunch bag before he even sat down at his usual lunch bench, then went straight to the vending machines with Kai and bought a Diet Coke.

Kibum was worried, but he wouldn’t say anything. Not yet. Maybe it was a fluke.

Except the two of them were sitting at a lunch bench. Alone. Splitting a 12oz Diet Coke between the two of them. Kibum’s brain screamed for him to do something, but he didn’t know what to do.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kibum asks, and he doesn’t even know when he got up and walked over to the two freshmen. Taemin and Kai both look like deer caught in headlights.

“We have a test next period,” Taemin says, not even stuttering as he taps on the history book in front of the two of them. “We need the caffeine.”

“Where’s your lunch?”

“Ate it.”

He’s lying to him. Taemin is lying to his face and not even batting an eyelash. Kibum has no idea what to do.

“Okay,” is all Kibum can say, his voice a little breathless. “Okay,” he repeats, and he goes back over to his own lunch bench feeling like his head is full of cotton.

“What’s the matter?” Woohyun asks, and their other friends all look concerned and confused.

“I think he’s gonna die,” Kibum whispers, his voice wavering.

Most of his friends think he’s exaggerating - he had never told them about Taemin’s issues - but Woohyun knew. Woohyun looks just as concerned as Kibum, which is interesting, because Kibum doesn’t think Woohyun has ever really even spoken to Taemin.

“Tell someone,” Woohyun says carefully. “Or he really might.”

Kibum’s tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth. He doesn’t know what to do.

There’s a dance recital two weeks later. The whole family, of course, has been invited. As always. Throughout the show, Taemin is in multiple routines. Has a solo, even. And a duet with Kai.

It’s beautiful. All of it. But Kibum can’t help but see two corpses dancing on stage together, gliding on the floor, flying in the air and barely holding each other upright.

Taemin’s solo frightens him most. He looks so tiny, so frail. He looks like the wind is moving him through the air, and even though it’s enchanting to watch, it makes Kibum’s stomach flip. Taemin looks like he’s drowning in his stage costume, but he’s not entirely sure that was intentional.

After the show is the same as always. Boa buys him a big bouquet, but the fact that it still looks bigger than him - just like it did when Taemin was nine years old - that frightens Kibum. How long exactly had the eating thing been an issue for Taemin? Kibum wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Did you want to go get dinner with everyone?” Minjung asks, holding a hand on Taemin’s back.

“I’m really tired,” Taemin says, his voice quiet. “Can we just go home? Please?”

“You were fantastic,” Boa gushes to him anyway. “We absolutely loved watching you. You were stunning.”

“Thank you, Auntie Boa.”

“We’ll have to celebrate together another day, alright? Maybe a barbecue next weekend?” Boa suggests.

“Okay,” Taemin says, a tight smile on his face.

Kibum has to tell someone. He has to. His heart is beating so fast against his chest, he feels like he’s sweating through the button up shirt he was forced to wear, everything is so loud. He has to tell someone. Who is he supposed to tell?

“I think Taemin’s not eating again,” he blurts out once they’re in the car, and his parents and little siblings all turn to him.

“What?” Yunho and Boa snap. They look intensely concerned, but Sehun and Yeri just look confused.

“What are you talking about?” Sehun asks.

“Nothing, baby,” Boa says carefully, then turns to Kibum. “We can talk when we get home.”

“Is Taemin sick?” Yeri asks.

“He’s fine, baby,” Boa insists.

Yeri and Sehun are ushered into their bedrooms as soon as they get home, and Kibum is forced to sit at the kitchen table with Yunho and Boa and tell them everything. How he’s seen Taemin dump his lunch out at school, how he’s seen him buying Diet Coke at the vending machine, how if he ever does eat at school, he always splits it with Kai.

“I don’t - I didn’t-” Kibum stutters, feeling like he’s about to panic. “I think he’s gonna die. I don’t want him to die.”

Boa and Yunho sit with him for over an hour, assuring him that it was a good thing he told them, that Boa would go talk with Minjung in the morning about it.

Kibum just doesn’t know what to do.

[kimxblht-17]

𝙱𝙾𝙰𝙽𝙶, 𝙺𝙰𝙶𝚆𝙰𝙽𝙶, 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙿, 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚂𝙸

Is saying cuss words really bad? Discover approximately the origins of those not unusual place curse words, you will recognize that some are not so terrible after all. Cebuano language, also spelled Sebuano, furthermore called Sugbuhanon, member of the Western, or Indonesian, branch of the Austronesian or Malayo-Polynesian language family. it absolutely was spoken within the first 21st century by roughly 18.5 million people within the Philippines. The speakers are you contact eastern Negros, Cebu, Bohol, western Leyte, the Camotes Islands, together with the northern and western coasts of Mindanao. Cebuano is closely related to the languages of the Hiligaynon or Ilongo and Waray-Waray, and it is sometimes grouped with those languages as a dialect of Visayan or Bisayan. The Cebuano speakers constitute about one-fifth of the population of the Philippines and are the second largest ethnolinguistic group within the country. Regardless of its spoken frequency, Cebuano is not any longer used as a literary language, although newspapers and films both use language. Native speakers of most Bisayan languages, only ask their language by their local name, but also by Bisaya or Binisaya, meaning Bisayan language, this could be misleading or may cause confusion as different languages could even be called Bisaya by their respective speakers despite their languages being mutually unintelligible.

The word “buang” is extremely old. Buang could be a Cebuano word for crazy. Cebuano could be a local dialect within the Philippines. Buang is usually a harsher word than crazy. this may be used as a curse once you are angry and may be utilized in tandem with other known Cebuano cuss words like the likes of Yawa, Pisti and Atay. It appears within the oldest Visayan dictionary because the equivalent of the Spanish word “loco,” which suggests “crazy.” In English, the word “retard” is taken into account disparaging or offensive. On the other hand, in Visayan, we use “buang” to visit individuals who are schizophrenic, in addition to those with other mental disorders or cognitive disabilities, this is often because of miseducation, the shortage of psychological state awareness, and therefore the lack of recent native words to represent other psychiatric terms.

"Buang ka, sis, wala ka na nanawag!" it means "You are crazy, sister, you did not call!"

"Ang buang galakawlakaw sa Colon” it means in english " The crazy is roaming around in the Colon", another example are 

"Akung auntie kay buang na man” which means "My aunt is already crazy",

"Nakit-an nako akong maestra sauna nga nahimu nang buang, gakatawa sa dalan” which also means "I saw my teacher before, she is crazy now and laugh in the street".

Whenever people with mental disorders hear from, ignorant people say that  “buang,” it comes across as offensive. Some people that have not been educated about mental state would say that somebody with depression is “nabuang,” or for somebody with anxiety,

"Naa man gud na siya’y sakit sa utok, murag nabuang na tingali.” above all for youths with autism.

"Ah, buang diay nang anak ni Marites?" "Oo, naay kuwang-kuwang sa pangutuk." The nature of the word “buang” is additionally disparaging in certain contexts especially within the hands of the ignorant, but it's certainly employed in society. What we want is mental state awareness and new words to face for the assorted terms of mental disorders. For as long as there's no awareness or new coined Visayan lexicons within the field of psychiatry, locals will keep using “buang” when speaking of disorders and disabilities associated with the brain.

This curse word "mananap"  called "animal" in english is clearly not native as Visayans had high reverence and respect for. People usually use this word  as a curse word. It is "hayop" in tagalog. Saying "animal ka nga bata" in Cebuano means  "hayop kang bata ka" in tagalog is a way of cursing someone. We failed to negatively view animals for his or her natural traits, and that we certainly didn't think humans were morally superior simply because of “civilization.” We kissed our dogs and treated our pigs like princesses. We respected the crocodiles’ fearfulness as a “divine sheriff,” and that we copied the markings of snakes and lizards as tattoo designs to indicate bravery and honor. In fact, our youngsters learned the names of wildlife from comparisons with human behavior. Our native word for “animal” is “hayupan.

"Kagwang” this word is really the local term for the “flying lemur.” Our Indonesian brothers’ term for “lemur” is “kukang” or “pukang” or “kubung.” The kagwang will be very stinky, so some Visayans would say, “Nanimahu na man ka og kagwang” which means "You smell bad already" in english. Although funny, harmless, fluffy, and cute, the kagwang is typically unfortunately feared by some Visayans and mistaken to be an aswang. The kagwang isn't a bloodthirsty or flesh-eating creature. It only feeds on plants, and insects, and it's sadly endangered, so please protect it. The decreasing numbers of the kagwang species is essentially caused by deforestation and ignorance. Although called a “flying lemur,” it doesn't fly and isn't a lemur. it's only an expert glider and may be a form of colugo.

Interestingly, sources say that “ Instead of saying the actual curse word, let’s just say “milk” out of anger. They discovered more possible origins behind this curse word! Contrary to John U. Wolff’s definition of his “litsi” entry in his dictionary, we have found that “leche” is also a curse word that originated in Spain. The first one is “Leche” being a reference for “sperm.” The second is “Me cago en la leche,” meaning “I sh*t on the milk” it is a bad reference for Catholics as milk here is sometimes a euphemism for the Eucharistic host in Spain and Puerto Rico or sometimes a euphemism for “ley,” the Law of Moses. The third one is “Mala leche,”  which literally means “bad milk.” Apparently, Spaniards have many metaphorical uses for milk. If you’re told to be of bad milk or to be coming from bad milk, it means you or your mom is moody or bad-tempered. The fourth one is “Leches!” was used by Spaniards when they’re shocked, surprised, amazed, or annoyed. The fifth one is  “leches” literally means “What milks” but figuratively refers to “What the hell.” The last one “Dar una leche” literally means “to give milk” but figuratively means to punch or slap someone. “Leche” in Spanish, however, is not always bad. There is “Ser de la leche” meaning “to be the milk,” and when someone tells you that, it means “You’re the best!” “A toda de leche” or “echando leche” means “very fast” or “in a hurry.”

"It is better to use curse words than to hurt somebody else" and "Saying curse words does not define who you are". When I was a kid my grandparents always taught me to avoid saying cuss words. I still remember when I was in elementary days I said litsi my grandmother slapped my mouth, then I reached junior high school I encountered many schoolmates saying cuss words. I started saying curse words when I was in grade 9 due to the fact that I'm surrounded with people  that are saying it, until now that I am a Senior high school, and saying curse words is like an expression to me along with my friends, when we hang out together we normalize saying cuss words. Nevertheless when we are at school or encounter teachers, principals and people that are older than us we control saying curse words because for them it is still a cuss word, their generation before and generation now is not the same. We all know that saying cuss words is extremely rampant now, especially that we are now in Generation Z which the kids are so advanced and usually are making the cursed words as an expression. The word “profanity” is sometimes relevance curse words and it's a word that has many meanings. It means using the type of words or language that will be construed as inappropriate, vulgar, insulting, foul, bad or dirty, essentially it's the act of cursing or swearing. Additionally, comes in several forms, and  will be an expression, gesture or part of speech. it is also connected to how one behaves during a social context. In some societies, certain varieties of speech and gestures are associated with vulgarity, desecration, obnoxiousness or are taken as insults. For as long as people can remember, cursing and swearing are an integral part of human discourse, certainly, it's not a replacement phenomenon. Furthermore, After all these are just a word expression and what really matters the most is the beautiful attitude of the inside in you, and on how you treat the person you encounter. However we still need to be careful because some people are very sensitive in words especially if there is someone who cursed them. We need to make sure that if we are saying those cursed words, only for the people that are close to us and  used to say it also. 

[roots-game]

What is the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to the ROs, Ami and Kai?

1.

A very long time ago, a young kitsune in the guise of a woman approached a traveler, long weary from the road.

“Good evening,” The woman said in purple robes slinking down from the tree she had been lounging on, “You seem tired good sir, as most travelers who come here do. What brings you to these crossroads? Perhaps I can assist you.”

The wanderer greeted the girl, wiping the sweat off his brow with his palm, “I have been traveling for many miles now young miss. The road has been most unkind to my old skin and bones, and yet here you stand as fresh as the dew on the morning blossoms. How can this be this deep in the woods? There must be a place to rest nearby, no?”

“Yes,” the girl smiled through teeth and red lips, “Yes. I do. I know a place. A temple not far. A place to rest. Come,” She beckoned with a finger, “Come follow me.”

The man, eager for sleep and shelter did not question. He simply straightened the cloth pack on his back with care, for his most treasured companion rested inside. A small pup he had come across on the way.

Deeper and deeper off the path and into the woods the pair went wordlessly. Until the cracking of a branch under the man’s feet roused the pup from its slumber. The young thing squirmed and tumbled out of the cloth sack onto the damp dirt below.

The old man tried to scoop the pup back into his arms but the young thing would not stand for it. Its hair stood on end. It’s eyes fearful and it’s voice shrill as it howled and barked at the woman.

“My apologies,” The man said embarrassed, but when he looked up the woman was gone. He could only see the sleek shape of a fox as it slunk into shadows and out of his sight.

The traveler swore to anyone who would listen that the fox had five tails.

2.

The grocery store was only a couple blocks away so Isaac had opted to walk. He was in the Foodland parking lot, almost to the front sliding door, when someone brushed against his side. 

“Oh man,” she said, clasping her hands together, “Hey are you okay?” Her accent and the cadence of her voice told Isaac that she was from the island. She was a pretty girl around his age, with a bronze complexion and long wavy black hair tied up with a yellow scrunchie. A reusable shopping bag was looped around her shoulder, filled to the brim with pork.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry,” He nodded at her and gave her a weak smile. He could feel his shoulder tense; he was awful at small talk. The girl’s eyes widened just a smidge, “Oh. I thought you were local for a moment. Your accent.” 

“Nah,” Isaac said inwardly pleased, “From the mainland. Arizona. I just got here a couple of hours ago. Wanted to… see the mountains. Do some hiking.”

“My name’s Anela,” She smiled at him in an easy way that made him relax, “And we should really not stand in the middle of the doorway, huh?” They laughed and stepped inside into the cool air-conditioned lobby of Foodland. Isaac introduced himself to her then and noticed her bag was filled with pork. Ground pork. Pork Chops. Bacon. Every pork product he could think of, she had in her bag. 

“Having a barbeque or something?”

“Hm?” She said following his eyes, “Oh. Ah. No.” She sounded embarrassed, “My mom. She wanted ah- hm.” She pursed her lips, “Say Isaac, how familiar are you with Pali Lookout? And more importantly, do you have a car?”

That’s how Isaac found himself driving down Old Pali Highway around midnight. The girl from Foodland, Anela, sat next to him on the passenger side. Her stash of pork from before now cooked with rice and greens and prepped into Tupperware containers.“I’m getting the creeps out here,” Isaac said turning down the radio station they had been listening to.

“Just a little midnight picnic.” Anela said with a small smile, “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out now. Didn’t you mention you wanted to see the mountains? That’s why you came here right?” Isaac flushed a little, feeling like he was caught in a lie. “Yeah. That’s why I came here.”

“You’ll see,” She nodded and pointed up towards the mountains, “The view is amazing at night.” “Yeah?” He said with a small guilty smile, “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”  Just as they saw a sign for the lookout, the car shuddered to a halt. Isaac cursed and guided the rental to the side of the road. He tried restarting the car, but it stalled every time. 

“What do we do?” He looked at Anela, “I don’t have money to get this car fixed. It’s not even mine.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. These things happen sometimes,” Anela said placing a hand on his shoulder apologetically, “Just stay in the car. I’ll be right back. The car will start soon I promise. Just calm down.”

She bent down scooping the bag with their dinner. She was about to open the car door when Isaac pointed down the road. An old lady in a white flowing dress and her white dog were walking in the night coming towards them. Anela slumped back into her seat and rubbed tiny circles into her temples.“Oh boy,” she sighed.

“What? Maybe she can help us out.” 

“That’s my uh- Auntie.” 

“What?”

“Yeah.”

The old lady was now right by Isaac’s window, her dog panting by her feet. “How dare you kids come here.” She was livid. Isaac squinted, the woman’s eyes glowed red through the dark with her rage. She looked at Isaac and then Anela. A flash of recognition dimming the anger in her eyes, if only for a moment.

“Anela?”

“Hi, Auntie.”

“Are you dumb Anela? Gimme that bag.”

Anela handed the bag of pork platters to her aunt. The old woman tossed it on the side of the road in disgust, her dog eagerly chasing after it.

“Who’s this hapa haole boy? Why’d you take him up? It’s dangerous up here by the cliffs. You wanna get this dumb boy dead?” 

“No, auntie. We just wanted to see the mountains.”

“You wanted to see the mountains?” The old woman howled with laughter, “Don’t make me laugh, honey girl. The both of you ain’t here to look at no mountains.”

The young girl blushed and looked away.

3.

The young god leans against the concrete ledge of the overpass scanning the people who walk below him with a focused eye. Hawkish, despite his troublemaking smile.

Yet….. no matter how hard he tries. Has tried. And will try again, trouble never finds him. Still, he paws at the concrete crumbs between the sidewalk gaps, rolling the little false stones in his palm like a set of dice. Peering down he chooses his mark, and flings the little bits of ground downward. 

A man looks up squinting, searching for the stone that scatter of his shoulders, but is left wanting. He keeps walking. Same story over and over, but still the forgotten god tries. 

Another.

This one walks in all leather. She seems different somehow. Perhaps this one? He readies the pebble, flicks it over the edge. Right in the face. He watches.

Eyes flutter and look upwards.

“You,” She says pointing up at him, acknowledging him? Acknowledging him, “Come down here right now.”

He scrambles behind the concrete, hiding himself, grinning still.

It’s what he always wanted, to be found. But how to make an introduction? He hasn’t had many of those, but he figured it can’t be hard? Right?

He pops up, eager, to be talked to. To be spoken with. To be friends with. 

It’s unfortunate, when he ends up tumbling down the stairs.

[emeraldwaves]

Title: What We Lack Part 5 Pairing:  Kacchako, Deku/Melissa, mention of Todomomo Rating: T Word Count:  3,167 Read on Ao3 Summary:  

Quirkless.

They’re the last people anyone expects to have a child without a quirk.

Neither of them can fully wrap their heads around it, but Ochako knows Katsuki is struggling far more than her.

Thank you to @its-love-u-asshole for beta-ing

Full fic under the cut

Ochako made her way to the kitchen and began to set the table, leaving Katsuki to work on the food.

Her eyes glanced up at his back, the muscles pulsing as he cooked, his arms moving quickly while he chopped vegetables.

She sighed, knowing Deku and Melissa were most likely speaking about him right now. He probably knew too, which only made him angrier. Deku was one of her close friends, but Katsuki never got over his rivalry with the boy. They were friendlier, but she knew Katsuki's frustrations would always have some bite to it.

She placed the final plate down and slowly walked towards him. She curled her fingers around his arm. "Katsuki," she whispered.

"Don't," he hissed, immediately tensing under her touch. He moved back away from her.

"Don't what?" she asked softly.

"I can't fuckin' do this Ochako. I can't have you yelling at me about our esteemed guests-"

She frowned, squeezing her hand around his arm tighter. "Then don't, Katsuki. Don't do this. Deku and Melissa are just trying to help, Melissa said some beautiful things to our girl. Why can't we focus on that?" Ochako said, her voice trembling.

"Because they said it," he hissed, turning around. He glared down at her. "They know all the perfect things to say to our girl. Why don't you just give her to them? Since they know-"

 Slap

There was a loud sound as Ochako's hand connected with Katsuki's cheek. She gasped at her own action, quickly pulling her hand back. Her brown eyes trembled as she watched the red trickle onto his cheek from where her palm made contact with his skin.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." she whispered. "I... I... how dare you... suggest giving her to them!" she hissed softly.

His eyes glanced downward and he pressed his own hand to his probably tingling cheek. "You know I didn't fuckin' mean it like that-"

"What if she heard you?!" Ochako growled.

"She didn't," Katsuki snapped back.

"But what if she had!?" Ochako pushed.

"...Let's just get this fucking dinner over with," he mumbled and turned back towards the pot.

"Yes," Ochako whispered, "Sayuri seems happy after speaking to Melissa. That was the whole point."

Katsuki didn't answer her after that, and Ochako's hand trembled against her chest. She didn't mean to slap him, but she wanted to knock some sense into him. He was always so blinded by his rage with Deku...

She knew it was difficult. Of course she wanted to be the one to tell her daughter all the perfect things to make her smile. She wanted to have all the right words sitting on the tip of her tongue, ready to be spoken at a moment's notice. But parenting wasn't so simple, wasn't that easy... and sometimes parents didn't know the right thing to say to their child.

"Food's ready," Katsuki murmured, and Ochako nodded, heading back to the living room.

"Good news! Food is almost done so we can finally eat," she said, clapping her palms together gently, careful not to let her fingers fully touch.

"How is he?" Deku asked, glancing to his wife before standing.

"He's... He needs to learn that we're not always going to be able to fix everything... I think..." Ochako said.

"Of course you're not," Melissa giggled softly, touching her shoulder. "You just have to do the best you can. No matter what Sayuri is always going to love her parents. Especially if you both love her as much as you do."

"I know. Maybe we love her a little too much," she sighed softly.

"There's no such thing," Deku smiled. "I'll go get the kids."

"Thank you," she nodded, making her way to her son’s room. "Shouhei! Dinner!" She swung the door open on him and he stared at her for a moment, his hands pressed together tightly. He pointed his finger up and the handheld game rose up and slammed against his pillow, immediately slipping under the blanket covers. If he thought he was being sneaky, using his quirk like that was the exact opposite. He smiled, trying to look innocent.

"What were you doing?" She placed her hand on her hip, too tired to argue with her son now too.

"'Kay Mama," he said, hopping off his bed. "I'm comin' to dinner!" he said, ignoring her question as he dashed towards the door.

She placed her hand in front of him. "Shouhei. You know you're not allowed to play games until you're done with your homework."

He immediately pouted. "Sayuri got to play with Kazuya!"

She rolled her eyes. "Go take a seat, we'll discuss this when we don't have company."

Ochako followed her son's dejected form as Sayuri and Kazuya zoomed by. "And then later we gotta start looking at math! I think math is the most important subject!"

"What?! No way! It's gotta be science!" Kazuya argued, the two of them hopping up onto their seats.

"No running!" Deku called after them, following them to the kitchen.

"They've technically already stopped," Ochako giggled.

Deku sighed, completely defeated. "I don't know why I even try sometimes."

"Auntie Melissa?" Sayuri asked, sitting up on her chair. "Do you think science or math is more important?"

"Uh oh," Deku laughed, taking a seat next to his wife. "Now you're asking the really hard questions, Sayu-chan."

"Both of them are boring," Shouhei snorted.

"Shouhei," Ochako warned, helping as Katsuki silently carried over some plates of food, placing them in the middle of the long table.

"Hm," Melissa said, tilting her head back and forth while she tried to decide. "Both are incredibly important. Science you have a little bit more... creativity, so I've always found science more fun," she smiled. "However, the two go hand in hand."

"See! So you do have to be good at both!" Sayuri giggled.

"It's important to do well with all your subjects!" Melissa said, turning her gaze towards Shouhei. "Even the boring ones."

"All of them are boring," the young boy complained.

Katsuki placed some food on Shouhei's plate aggressively. "If you don't study, you don't get to play video games."

"Yeah, yeah," Shouhei folded his arms. "I know."

Katsuki took a seat, setting the last plate down. Ochako noticed how he turned his red eyes towards Deku, looking as if he wanted to speak. Perhaps he knew this wasn't the time, not with the children around.

They served the food, and began more casual conversation. The children babbled on about school and what the most important subject was, and Melissa talked about work while the kids were distracted. Her company was beginning work on new tools to assist heroes. She was wanting to start more quirk-related research, but Ochako could tell she was hesitant.

"It's been coming along quite nicely, as I'm sure you're all aware," she nodded. "Izuku and I have been testing lots of equipment. Mei-chan and I were developing something for his quirk, though he just seems to get stronger and stronger. Soon you won't need anything from me!" she giggled.

Katsuki's fingers clenched around his chopsticks and Ochako placed her hand over his, not wanting him to break them.

"That's ridiculous, Melissa," Izuku laughed. "All Might and your father worked together for years, even when he was at his strongest. I'll always need your support." He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"A lot of heroes would be lost without the support from your company, Melissa. Iida-kun is always telling me about Mei-chan's ideas," Ochako said.

Melissa laughed. "Oh yes, Mei-chan is very enthusiastic!"

"Katsuki loves the streamlined grenade gauntlets you made him," Ochako continued and Katsuki shoveled food into his mouth.

"They're easier to use," he grumbled, not wanting to look the blonde woman in the eye.

"I'm glad!" Melissa smiled.

"Mommy! When are you going to make something for my quirk!?" Kazuya said, tugging on his mom's sleeve as he interrupted the conversation.

"Oh! Did you tell Uncle Kacchan and Auntie Ocha about your quirk, Kazu?" Deku asked, and Kazuya's face immediately lit up.

"No!" he said. "Me and Sayu-chan were too busy studying!"

"Why don't you show us now?" Ochako asked, her gaze turning to Katsuki momentarily. Against her palm, his hand curled into a fist, growing sweatier against hers.

Kazuya blushed. "It's... kind of similar to your quirk, Auntie Ocha!" he said, placing his chopsticks down. He held his small hand out over the chopsticks, doing a gentle pulling movement as the objects rose into the air and pressed against his palm. "Tada!" he said. "I can... make objects float to me!"

"Wow!" Ochako clapped. "Very impressive."

"Mhm!" he nodded, looking proud of himself.

"So cool, Kazu!" Sayuri giggled, watching him. "Do it again!"

The two children were immediately lost in their own world, Kazuya showing off for the girl. The excitement didn't seem to die however, the two of them thrilled to be focusing on the small trick.

"My... mother has almost the same quirk," Deku chuckled. "I guess it skipped me and went straight to him," Deku explained.

"We were honestly... surprised," Melissa said. "Genetically, it doesn't really make sense," she paused, "but then again what does!"

"Yeah," Katsuki grumbled. "What fuckin' does..." he muttered under his breath.

"Katsuki!" she hissed, and punched his arm.

"Sayu-chan and I are going to be scientists together and work with my mom!" Kazuya declared loudly, both children laughing.

"Boring," Shouhei snorted.

"Oi, don't talk about your sister's dreams like that," Katsuki growled, pointing his chopsticks at his son.

"Yeah, yeah," he huffed.

Katsuki smirked and leaned towards the young boy. "You're just angry because you know we're not going to let you play games until you finish your homework. Don't take it out on your sister."

"Shut up, Dad!"

"Boys... please," Ochako sighed, shaking her head. "Do you see what I have to deal with?"

"Trust me, I know," Melissa snorted.

"Don't worry, Mommy!" Sayuri giggled. "You have me!" She posed proudly.

"Of course I do, baby girl!" she smiled.

The dinner continued on, everyone seeming to be far more relaxed. Katsuki even cracked a smile a few times, though Ochako could tell he was purposefully holding himself back. She noticed his gaze kept falling on Kazuya and Sayuri, watching as they spoke excitedly about being famous scientists. Ochako silently prayed this wouldn't be a phase... maybe Sayuri would focus on the support aspects of the hero profession... maybe she wouldn't care she couldn't be a hero. Children changed their minds all the time.

With giant yawn, Kazuya leaned against his mother, the conversation having lasted for quite some time. "Well it seems like it's about that time..." Melissa commented, stroking through her son's blond hair.

"Mhm, someone still has homework to do," Ochako teased, glancing towards her son.

"Quit reminding me! I know!" he snapped.

"Shouhei..." Ochako warned, her brown eyes narrowing.

"What? Dad yells all the time..." he grumbled, slouching in his chair.

"Help your father clear the plates," she instructed, Katsuki already starting to clear the table off.

"Fine," he huffed, following Katsuki to the kitchen with a few of the smaller plates.

"Thank you so much for having us over," Melissa said, bowing her head. "Are you sure you don't need help cleaning up?"

"No, of course not! We really appreciate you coming and I'm... I apologize for the outburst," she said softly, walking with them towards the front door.

"It's really alright," Deku nodded. "We know it will probably take a bit of time for him to adjust."

"Come say bye!" Ochako called out, and Sayuri was immediately by her side, wrapping her small arms around Kazuya. "Good night Kazuya!" she said, hugging him.

"Bye Sayu-chan!" he giggled, hugging her back. "Next time we can talk about our science plans!"

"Yes!" she cheered. The two babbled excitedly to each other, laughing innocently about their futures.

"Thank you for coming," Ochako said, giving Melissa and Deku both hugs goodbye. Her arms lingered around her best friend for a moment. "I... I really do appreciate it."

"Oi..." Katsuki mumbled, leaning against the wall by their entrance. He immediately made her jump back, turning towards her husband. He stepped forward, glaring at Deku.

"Kacchan... I-"

"Oi!" he repeated and rubbed the back of his neck. "...You... nerds," he muttered, glancing towards Melissa too. "You said... good... things to her," he said softly, his voice quiet as he struggled to speak. "Thanks..."

Both Deku and Melissa looked shocked by the confession. "I simply spoke the truth," Melissa said softly.

"You know we'll always support you and your family, Kacchan," Deku nodded, bowing his head.

Katsuki cheeks flushed. "Yeah whatever, same, get out of my house," he snarled, rushing the words out. He leaned down and picked up Sayuri, holding her against his hip. "It's time for bed, baby girl." He nodded once more to them, carrying her away down the hall.

"Aw Daddy! I'm not even that tired!" Ochako heard her whine as Katsuki carried her away.

"Thank you," she said once more.

"You're gonna be fine, Ochako-chan," Deku smiled. "She's going to be fine and Kacchan is going to be fine."

"I know," she said, glancing after her husband.

"It's just all new and shocking," Melissa added. "But we're here for you. If you need anything just call or text."

"Of course."

With a bow, she waved goodbye to Deku and his family, and she took a deep breath, leaning against the door once they left. She was thankful Katsuki spoke up at the end, but there was still so much she needed to say to him... apologies which hung on her lips.

She made her way to Shouhei's room first, gently knocking on the door. He sat at his desk, looking disgruntled about doing his homework.

"I'm doin' it!" he snapped, scribbling something down in his notebook.

She laughed, and made her way to his side, kissing his head. "I know you are. My brave man, suffering through math."

"Someone's gotta do it," he mumbled. "But I really don't get why it has to be me... Do you and Dad really do math being heroes?"

"Mmm... sometimes!" she giggled. "If I didn't know math, how would I be able to count how many villains there are?!"

Shouhei's face flattened. "Mom. I know how to count."

"I know you do," she teased. "Homework is just part of life. I suffered through it too," she said.

"Yeah, yeah," he snorted.

"Come say goodnight when you're done okay?" she said, kissing his head one more time as she decided to leave her son in peace.

Further down the hall, Sayuri's door was open, and Katsuki was crouched next to her bed.

"But I don't wanna go to bed, Daddy," she whined. "Shouhei gets to stay up!"

"Shouhei is older and he's doing homework," he said, stroking his fingers through her blonde hair. "Besides, all good scientists need to get their rest."

"Yeah, that's true. I'm gonna make the best things for you, Daddy!" she cheered. "Even better than Auntie Melissa!"

"I'm sure you will baby girl. You're smart. I'm freakin' proud already."

Sayuri gasped and placed her hand over Katsuki's mouth. "Daddy said a swear!"

"A swear?" he mumbled. "What did I say?!"

"Well I can't say it, then I would say the bad word!" she said, giggling.

"I'll... put a coin in the jar..." he sighed, wrapping his fingers around her tiny wrist and he kissed at her palm. "Is that good?"

"Very good, Daddy," she said, her mouth yawning wide.

"Alright, baby girl. Time for bed," he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

"Night Daddy," she said as Katsuki pulled away, walking towards where Ochako stood in the doorway.

"Night sweetheart," she called quietly, turning off the light as she shut her door.

She followed her husband back to the living room and he took a seat on the couch. "Shouhei doin' his work finally?"

"Mhm. I told him to come out when he's done to say goodnight," Ochako whispered, taking a seat on the couch next to him.

"Good," he huffed, folding his arms.

She sat in silence, letting the tension settle between them. Katsuki seemed calmer, but she knew evenings with Deku always stressed him out and made him question a variety of things. She knew Katsuki felt like Deku was always ahead of him... with All Might... in hero ranking... and now, even his son had a quirk while their daughter did not. She knew it must be weighing heavily on her husband.

Ochako felt guilt tugging on her heart. She knew Katsuki would absolutely never give up their daughter. If Ochako was his angel, Sayuri was his princess, and he couldn't live without any member of their family. Still, her knee-jerk reaction, with all the tension building in the room was to slap him. It felt so wrong; they were all hurting.

"You don't have to apologize," he mumbled, his eyes turned towards their carpet.

"Eh?" she gasped, pulled from her thoughts.

"I know you're thinking about apologizing for slapping me. But I deserved it," he said, his red eyes turning to meet hers.

"Oh Katsuki... no... you didn't. I-I shouldn't have slapped you. I just didn't know what to do."

"I was being selfish," he said softly, squeezing his palms together.

"A little," she said, scooting closer to him, her palm gently resting on top of both his hands. "But... I know how you get about Deku-kun... and tonight was a lot... You didn't deserve that."

"I should never have fucking said what I said... I didn't... I didn't mean it. I wouldn't give that kid up for fucking anything... either of them."

"I know you wouldn't," she said, and she stroked her fingers gently over his cheek. "You love them... just as much as I do."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand to his lips. "I love you..." he whispered and she leaned forward, pressing her head against his shoulder.

"I love you too, Katsuki."

He smiled, sitting back to look at her. "She... seems pretty excited about this science bullshit."

"She does... she's a determined girl..."

"Just like you," he said softly, leaning up to press his lips against Ochako's, kissing her softly.

"Just like both of us, though I do hope she stays determined and doesn't get as stubborn as you," she teased.

"A little stubbornness won't kill her," he chuckled, kissing her again. He sighed, his rough fingers stroking over Ochako's round cheek. "We're gonna figure this shit out."

"I know," she said.

"I will never let her suffer. Ever," he said, determination flicking across his red eyes. She smiled, knowing exactly where her daughter inherited the trait from.

"I know," she repeated, leaning against her husband.

She knew, no questions asked or words needed; they both would protect their family with their lives.

[whatscoolaccordingtodom]

July 2018

As winter nyasto settles into the Southern Hemisphere, I can’t help but think that maybe we’re doing something wrong and whoever has been in charge of the weather these past few years is mad. Our ancestors wore nothing but a bit of hide over their groins 365 days a year, my great-great grandfather never slept inside anything his whole life. They say on particularly cold nights, his family would come down from the hills to sleep around his fire, where he would sit there playing his mbira into the wee hours.

Umphako floated down to us on the 6thof July and I’ve been Mascandi through the streets ever since. The 4 track EP sees most of the songs go in different directions, but still make sense on the overall project. “Abangani” features label mates Emtee and Saudi, it’s definitely in the running for Squad Song of the Year. The “Confession” sample sounds like it was taken from an old hip-hop song, maybe a 50 Cent track and; the vocals though beautiful as they may be are overshadowed by the lyrics. I’m sure a few Zulu boys are convinced though. “Intombi” -also about a girl- talksis about all the lies she hears from interested suiters. The remaining is the hustle track, even the production is more upbeat than we’re used to from him. 2018 has been good to Sjava too, he came out from under the shadow of his labelmate and established himself as a serious contender with the Black Panther nod, BET award, and oh so Afrikan press run; this EP serves to show he’s still the guy who gave us favourites like “Before”. At least for now...

Strings and Blings is one half songs that can be bangers and the other is half is talking RnB. Nasty C’s on and off long-time girlfriend is kind of like the centerpiececentre piece, often finding herself being spoken to, of, from, about, and with; but he uses inconsistent angles. (Also, S/O to the girl who always sings on his songs but never gets credited). “No Respect” is my favourite offering on the project by far, it sounds like it was getting good, like he was about to rip at niggers, he’s about to start going in at the 1-minute mark then the just stops.; Tthe track ends 25 seconds later preventing what probably would’ve been a PR nightmare for him. “Jiggy Jigga”, “Givenchy”, “Strings and Bling” and “Gravy” are all easy plays in the club. We would like to thank Nasty for saying a Zulu word on “Blisters”. The whole album plays very well except for “My Baby”, that song is terribly cheesy; it sounds like every song by a boy band with a potty mouth lead singer. “SMA” is a standout from the other side, the dialogue verse’s add a layer to the rapper and Rowlene is just perfect. “Mrs Me” and “Everything” are the other emotionally heavy songs. “Casanova” cements just how much Nasty loves Metro Boomin and is perhaps the one track that doesn’t really fit into the 2 sides of album, it sounds emotional, but the lyrics really just aren’t.

A welcome addition to my favourite rappers in South Africa is Zakwe, he’s been around for a while but Cebisa is the first project by him I’ve listened to and honestly, it carries itself even without Sebentin. In true South African fashion, the remix is a who’s who of our rap elite but it’s all overshadowed by the obvious trade of bars by HHP and Cassper., Cass just seems to rub some people the wrong way, poor guy. At 20 songs, averaging well over 3 minutes each. The album is a long play but it’s well worth the listen, with a plethora of features to keep you entertained it plays like a Zakwe and friends playlist. The man himself has honed his sound, this nonchalant cross between hip-hop and kwaito is best described by the albums stand out line “Pac was Jesus, Zola wrote the Bible”. He isn’t stuck in old hip hop either, trap beats found themselves nestled in the playlist too.    

Future gave us Beast Mode 2 and I am satiated, but Atlanta spoils us (I have a theory about how it had a direct influence on how music is frequently now released), they understand that the streets need new music often. Jeffery needs to give us something more now since Hear No Evil was a while ago and it was 3 songs long. Future seems to be the only one of late who can get Young Thug into the studio too., Tthey did release Georgia, but a Thug feature was not on the cards for BM2 which really only has 2 features, both young artists who were given a wide berth to shine. People who say Future isn’t a lyricist need to take time out to listen to the first Beast Mode. On these albums over Zaytovens most almost gospel like production, he addresses a wide range of issues from his self-medicating drug problem, he checks himself trying to hold onto some sense of reality I think, but he makes it so that you have to listen to know what he’s saying. Being a workaholic -the man releases projects at an alarming rate- and the excess that seems to come with the life of having your “Racks Blue”, he talks about his anxieties both external and psychological. BM2 is the classic mix of Futures braggadocio and insecurities. It plays like one long thing the first time, but if you take the time to listen to what he’s saying you might realise why his spot amongst those at the top of rap is a non-debatable topic.

Unjayam uSliqe… this calling card annoyed me when I first heard it, but it’s kinda grown on me since then. I know I’m about to hear a hit when it plays. His sophomore album is a shining example of how hip-hop albums by DJ’s have evolved into their own league. Jam packed with features, feel good songs, and amazing production from the man himself, I don’t know if he just makes the beats and let’s people do their own thing or if he composes and directs each song, maybe he does a bit of both. The formula works, Navy Black is like a calm afternoon with your friends, most of the songs share a skeleton, so the vibe is carried well. “Biskop” is a fitting way to begin the album, it’s an ode to how the journey Sliqe, Kwesta and Makwa has transformed the artists’ lives since they started hustling, when is a Kwesta verse not welcome? Chiano Sky is the new naughty white girl, “Aunty” was nice, but “Girls Jungle” is a lot; the sample is so perfect and her lyrics are irreverent. Sy Ari saw Black Panther 5 times, I was going to discuss this but then I found out he’s American; him and AKA really came through for “Oh Well” though, Supa Mega talks like the big brother all young rappers have always wanted. I’m kind of torn between “Fully” (because we get to say FULLY a bunch of times), and “Town Talk”, it’s cool to see Wrecking Crew members make hits without their big gun. “Backyard” is the vibe of the album, and who better to call for a feature than Mr Hennessy, Tshego can sound like him featuring him with the different pitches he can sing at; it’s smooth and never overly emotional?

Gigi Lamayne, in her short time has built an enviable career finding her place in the league of our small handful of rappers. “VI” is a 6 track EP, her first since signing with Ambitious and it was built kind of like this version Maslow'sMaslows pyramid.; Tthe top is tiny and signifies the worst song as we descend into the album the sections get thicker until the bottom where we find “VI” waiting for us. The tape gets much better immediately with “Iphupho”, this song see’s the artist sing her truths about living in this concrete jungle while demanding to cash in on her dreams. “Roll” is dirtier, real trap shit reminiscent of “Beez in The Trap”. “Stimela” is fun, Gigi even gets in some good raps and punchlinespunch lines, a highlight being “I’m Gautrain, you Shosholoza”. “VI” is really easy listening, with a light sprinkling of zulu lines, the beats are catchy but maybe none more so than “Twinkle”; “Londie London” croons the memorable chorus and Gigi offers her most solid verses on the project. Until you hear the title track, she does the correct thing on the outro; no chorus, shit she barely lets it breathe until the last minute.

Ice Prince is an established name in Afrikan hip-hop and his confidence oozes out of his songs too. A few of them seem to be more about weed than anything else in particular and I’m okay with that. The albums opening track is a bass heavy banger, with the help of Jethro Faded, Ice-Prince “Shuts it Down”, which might be a weird way to start an album. Remy Baggins comes through for “Space Funk”, a Bruno Mars-y chorus with solid verses by Ice. “Hit Me Up” is the albums single, a typical South African trap track, PatricKxxLee & Straffitti help bring the head nods out. “‘Interlude”’ is his way of letting us know that this is the emotional track of the album and “Die For Your Love” does not disappoint, mans really promises to die for her love; but doesn’t miss the opportunity to mention weed again. I think I noticed all the weed references because of how frequently and prominently most of them are placed. “254” has one right in the chorus, but the verses are some of the most enjoyable on the whole album; they play like one long story. The uncredited singing bit at the end of “254″ is really nice, if that is Ice then kudos to him. “So High”, seriously, has Ice Prince always been this proud about his stoner ways? Anyways, “So High” is an anthem dedicated to just how high Ice Prince and Kay Switch get. By the sounds of it they use regular rizla and not Raw like Nasty C and Snoop Dogg, I might suggest switching to unbleached rizla if he really does smoke from Niger to Ghana. I mean, it’s an obvious metaphor for other kinds of highs too, success, girls, etc, but with the sound effects and lines like “puff puff pass, real nigger smoking that gas” the weed references might be all we get. “Watching You” is a simpler, way more vibey track where Ice Prince gets back onto his singing shit, helping keep the song as smooth as possible. The album closer is arguably the best, the production is really enjoyable, and he made sure to use easy to remember lyrics.

In The Faculty NEWS; on August 2, Human Error turned 19 and Tinayeishe Elisha Makoni better known by his stage name S.K.eye released his debut solo tape titled “Pseudology”. Please listen to it on Soundcloud @ https://soundcloud.com/tinayemakoni/sets/pseudology

Couldn’t leave without acknowledging Stay Dangerous and Astroworld, but that’s for later.

Beyonce and her husband are coming on the 2nd of December, but you have to earn a ticket. The only other ticket you work this hard to get in life is the one to Heaven, if you’re into that type of thing.

Edited by @NyraBlac

[cosmosfated]

“A- Auntie Riika, Auntie Riika!” The voice of a cheerful child rings through the area in waterfall, far more desolate than the rest of the place. Seemingly left to bloom and blossom under the Prince’s touch. “Gotcha!” Spoken as small arms struggle to wrap around the elder monster’s torso.

“Oof! Goodness, you’re going to put out my back, ve’ailr.” The woman chuckles and wraps her arms around the child, nuzzling her face into his hair and smiling a touch wider. “Now, what’s gotten you all energetic today, hmm?”

“I, um, I learned h- how- how to make the illusions r- real! Look!” He holds out his hands and concentrates for a little while, eyes focused on the vaguely knife-shaped object in his hands. A few more seconds pass before he moves to take the handle in one hand, brandishing the worn dagger with a look of absolute pride. “S- See? It makes me r- really, um, tired, when I d- do it but that- that’s ok- kay! Ain’t it cool?!”

“That’s awesome, sweetheart,” Riika agrees, forked tongue flicking out slightly. “but have you been studying the lessons Constantia and I wrote up for you?” At his somewhat awkward (and telling) nod, she smiles wide. “Then surely you’ll be able to repeat back to me the rules of magic?”

“U- Uhm... of course! That’s super easy, I d- defin- definitely remember them... The, um, the rules of magic...” After a few minutes of scanning his memory, he ducks his head down. “Umm... I didn’t- I didn’t study... Sorry, Auntie Riika...”

“That’s okay. I can go over them here with you, but you have to study tonight before you go see Constantia, okay?” She waits for his determined look and the quiet ‘uh huh!’ that always follows before speaking again. “Alright then, repeat after me...”

“Magic is alive, just as we are.” “M- Magic is alive, just a- as we are.” “Just like with people....” “Ju- Just like with p- people...” “Abusing magic will make it act against you.” “Abus- sing magic will make it act agains- st you.” “Magic is only as good... “Mag- Magic is only a- as good...” “Or as bad...” “O- Or as bad...” “...as the person using it.” “...as the- the person using it.” “Magic is in every soul, but not every soul uses magic.” “Magic i- is in every soul... but not ev- every soul uses m- magic.” “Magic and I...” “Magic a- and I...” “...have a partnership.” “...ha- have a partn- nershi- ship.” “I trust the magic to help me...” “I trust- t- trust the magic t- to help me...” “...and the magic will react to my Intent.” “...an- and the magic w- will react to my Int- Intent.”

Riika hums softly and sets down the young Prince, ruffling his hair (much to his chagrin). “That’s a good start, little majesty. Make sure you study. Constantia’s going to be tougher on you if you forget to study.”

He giggles and nods, bouncing in place a bit as he fixes his hair for a moment. “M’kay! See you on Thursday for practice!” And he disappears in a flash of blue and black, back to his kingdom of gold.

there’s a slow blink as he pulls himself out of his own mind,  out of his blurry memories of a life that tastes bittersweet on his tongue,  looking down at his desk.  he was going to write something...  a letter?  a note to himself?  he can’t remember.  so he’ll write the only thing that comes to mind,  and go relax again.

|| I’ll fix this, even if it kills me. ||

[hermanamason-blog]

7th February 2017

Hi family! I am so happy to hear about your fathers blessings. It is one of the best personal scriptures we have to draw strength and guidance from! HAPPY  BIRTHDAY KAI KI!!! I hope your day is full of nothing but basketball! I also can't believe how tall you have gotten in only 3 months!! Slow down please! Was this week full of interesting events or what? It was the first time on the mission so far that i have really experienced blatant rejection and persecution. We had knocked on an appartment with the hope of contacting Meleni, one of our references but instead we met her aunty (Raquel)who came outside to discuss our different beliefs. We had a great chat and shared the website details for familysearch, and after a while she invited us inside. We met her brother, Juan (one of the many Juan's I now know) who was interested in the mormon religion and has spoken to missionaries in the past. of course we brought up the Book of Mormon and asked if they had had the opportunity to read it before. That was when Raquel started throwing the fiery darts. She told us that the bible was the only word of God. She insisted that we are not real witnesses of Christ because we havent received the Holy Ghost. Apparently we havent received the Holy Ghost because we cant speak in tongues (We are speaking spanish?). We are preaching false doctrine and basically we are not representing Jesus Christ. I cant express how i felt in this moment-I can only relate it to when Joseph Smith was in jail and chastised the other men, "SILENCE! Ye fiends of the infernal pit!" My blood boiled with righteous indignation. In the end all we could do was bare testimony-that in reality we are representatives of Jesus Christ. Wearing his name across my heart has become something I am so protective of. The spirit was so powerful as we testified of our authority and mission, it was the most powerful experience I have yet had on my mission and i knew that God was baring witness of our sacred and divine callings. I was shocked that despite this power, Raquel was not phased in the least. She refused to let us offer a prayer at the closing of our visit but hugged us and wished us luck, two "very lovely, but very, very lost" mormon missionaries.Truly when we speak by the power of the Holy Ghost, it can only carry our message UNTO the hearts of others (2 Nefi 33:1) They must choose to accept it or not. If ever a passage of scripture related to this experience it would definitely be found in 2 Nefi 28 v 20 "At that day (Satan) shall rage in the hearts of the children of men, and stir them up to anger against that which is good... Wo unto all those who tremble, and are angry because of the truth of God!...Wo unto him that shall say, We have received the word of God, and we need no more of the word of God, for we have enough!" (v 28-29). This week we taught Claudia and Daniel with the intent to get them to commit to living the law of chastity. We wanted to be bold and unapologetic and while planning the lesson a scripture came to mind in Alma 34 which talks about procrastinating the day of repentance. We used this during the lesson and it was PERFECT! We took control of the lesson and declared our message boldly yet with much love. I love everytime I think of the individual trials of my friends here, connect a scripture to their needs and then apply it in a lesson- it really makes the Book of Mormon come to life and strengthens my testimony that this book really does have the ability to answer our questions and provide guidance in any circumstance. This life is the time we have to prepare to meet God. It is the time we have to prepare for the eternities. I am so grateful for repentance, that i am able to utilize this tender mercy on a daily basis. Yesterday during gospel principles class Hermano Beatrice (a really cute old man I love) shared something that fits nicely with this theme. "If someone told me I was going to die in 1 week's time, I would be happy. I would be rejoicing! I will get to see God again." I'm not sure if i would feel the same way. But why? What changes do I need to make TODAY so that I can rejoice at the thought of being with my Heavenly Father TOMORROW? We should never delay the day of our repentance, it is the greatest tool of the adversary to make us oblivious to urgency. "There is always tomorrow." The blessing of repentance are incomparable. "In the hearts of the righteous doth He dwell;...(and they) shall sit down in His kingdom, to go no more out, but their garments should be made white through the blood of The Lamb." (Alma 34:36). In this lies such an incredible promise. Family, never forget the eternal perspective! Every day that the Lord lends you breath is your time to prepare to meet Him. I love you all so much! Missionary prayers are consecrated for the blessing of their families! Hermana Mason

[justintanwc]

the mrbrown show: TalkingCock in Parliament, Hossan Leong from JustintanTV on Vimeo.

TalkingCock.com held its first spoken word "live" event, TalkingCock in Parliament: We, the Citizens, at Old Parliament House on Thursday, 24 August 2006. It was in support of Indignation 2006 and was an evening of light-hearted speeches celebrating Singaporean-ness. The mrbrown show was proud to be part of it. This would be the 5th and final part of this event.

This is a video of Hossan Leong's segment. Got lyrics for you to sing along to even!

(Video footage courtesy of Kelvin of saltwetfish.net). Warning, this is quite the big file hor. Yes, we know YouTube there got, but ours got karaoke lyrics.

This mrbrown show is sponsored by Imaginary Friends Studios.

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---

LYRICS: Sang Nila, Utama saw a lion, alamak Name the village Singapura then run very far Years later, ang mor came Stamford Raffles was his name Posed for statues very nice we kenna colonize

Singapura very strong Big guns all, pointing wrong Japanese, came on bikes, invade us from our backside War is over, ang mor back Singaporeans no respect Commies come, make a fuss, Singapore independence!

I live in Singapura It's not perfect living But at least it's interesting I live in Singapura Though it's kind of crazy We win other country

David Marshall, Lim Yew Hock National Anthem starts to rock Yusof Ishak the big man Guess who's PM? Malaysia say, come join me Two of us be same country Then not happy Then make PM cry

PM Lee lead country Build Jurong and HDB Made the country clean and green Opposition cannot win JB Jeya no more funds Chee Soon Juan won't eat his buns Lim How Doong, what a goon "Don't talk cock" in parliament

I live in Singapura It's not perfect living But at least it's interesting I live in Singapura Though it's kind of crazy We win other country

Kick out from Malaysia Cup Michael Faye pain in the butt S-League, Tea Dancing Ah Bengs love Modern Talking McDonald's Hello Kitty Everyone drink Bubble tea Crushing cockroach Margaret Chan James Lye is The VR Man

Reclaimation, Tuas Causeway Malaysian water buay ho sei Mahathir's friend Datuk Anwar Mathathir says he's Chow Ah Quah NDP, aunties rush Everyone it's fun to flush Bubble gums are all banned ask your friends buy from Thailand

I live in Singapura It's not perfect living But at least it's interesting I live in Singapura Though it's kind of crazy We win other country

Driving car, not funny Bid on cars with COE ERP, Road Tax PARF until I want to barf IR locals have to pay Foreign talents are OK Housing estates upgrade by Contractors who go pok kai

IMF come must smile more Want to protest go indoor LRT, not so fast NEWater they laugh at us

I live in Singapura It's not perfect living But at least it's interesting I live in Singapura Though it's kind of crazy We win other country

Baby bonus, maid levy SingTel Shares give out for free Jack Neo, Kit Chan Sexy pastor Ho Yeow Sun Beckham parties with models Has affair but no one knows S-League, go world cup Can come true if they don't suck

Mahathir then Abdullah Bar top dancing at the bars Budget airlines start to pak Stop speaking Singlish lah Gay is OK say PM SM Lee go be MM PM Lee the same name Here we go all over again

I live in Singapura It's not perfect living But at least it's interesting I live in Singapura Though it's kind of crazy We win other country

We live in Singapura It's not perfect living But at least it's interesting We live in Singapura Though it's kind of crazy We win other country

WE LIVE IN SINGAPURA!