#but motivation is like an elusive lover to me

[shepherdenjoyer]

one thing i would be interested in, when we live somewhere nicer, is fostering a dog or two, or even dogsitting but im partial to fostering in regards to the whole allergy thing because it would be for a longer period of time without being a 12+ years commitment. but that's also something that we can't do just yet so once again all i can do is try to be patient and focus on things i have to work on myself that aren't directly related to dogs.. and my brain says that's booooring

[meanbossart]

A personal headcanon of mine is that Cazador had a special interest in Astarion before turning him into a vampire possibly a romantic obsession.

I was curious about what your personal thoughts were on the relationship between Cazador and Astarion?

Let me stop you right there - Yes.

Now, I'm a little reluctant to elaborate on this one, because I think it can be seen as a little reductive of the characters and their stories to condense what could be a political plot into something as superficial as another "if I can't have you, no one will" storyline - not only would that be less interesting to some people, but it once again reduces Astarion's character to his attractiveness - while the former, for once, actually made him "desirable" for his achievements and influence - even if it doomed him after all.

But at the same time, this theory compels me for that reason exactly. It sets the origins of the whole issue and what would, overtime, erupt into this complex he has of himself and how others perceive him.

I'm not a stickler for details as long as you can tell me a good story, but it's notable to me that the reasons why Cazador set his eyes on Astarion so early in his reign are never really elaborated on further. How much influence did he really have as a young magistrate, and what kind of rulings could he be passing that would affect Cazador so much for him to take such a risk in abducting someone of his standing right as he had himself come into power? Cazador is an idiot, but he's an idiot who managed to say alive and hidden for two centuries - this move was either exceptionally well thought-out, or Astarion wasn't that liked as a magistrate, or Cazador had far pettier motives to take such a risk.

Not to mention, Astarion is awfully elusive whenever you inquire about the hows and whys of his abduction. Dismissive, even. Like it's something he doesn't want to talk about. I could take that down the boring route and say "oh, the writers just didn't care to develop this part of his story", or I could do the far more fun thing and read into it.

Then, of course, there's the vague suggestions that Astarion stood out among the spawn for one reason or another - he's referred to as the runt of the litter, and yet as Cazador's favorite as well. Going through Cazador's journal following Astarion's disappearance, there seems to be something besides frustration about him leaving just as he's about to ascend - there's resentment, there's desperation. Why the fuck does Petras act as if Cazador would ever do anything good for them if they were treated as Astarion describes? How the fuck were any of them under the impression that this ritual would benefit them whatsoever, while Astarion seems to have always known better? While I have no doubt that they all suffered under Cazador's control, there seems to be indication that Astarion suffered specially badly. The question left is why.

I don't think they were ever lovers or anything like that, I don't think Astarion ever even knew Cazador well enough to give him a passing thought, but I think it would be absolutely rich for a newly born, still spite-fuelled vampire lord to make very emotionally-driven decisions. The type of decisions that he looks back on and curses himself for. For having ever had such a weak mind.

Think of it, you come into all this power after years of pain, sorrow and suffering. You set your hungry, lonely little eyes on the prettiest girl at the ball - she turns you down spectacularly. She laughs you off under thinly veiled pleasantries. You are beside yourself - you were supposed to have everything you ever wanted, to be untouchable, to be desirable, to have some sort of supernatural allure about yourself - you were under the impression that now, all of your problems had been solved and everything that life has to offer would be thrown at your feet, like you perceived it to be like to your own, deceased masted; then the rug gets ripped from under your feet. But, a moment after, you realize: when you want something very badly, you can now just take it.

So you do. You get a shiny new toy. Fresh off your dull, painful past-experiences it seems like this toy is all you need to bring the long-lost zest back into your life, it is your first taste of true power and control, your dear beloved, your reluctant companion, and you paint a picture of what life will be alongside it (though slightly stooped beneath you - you can't be equals, of course) decades, no, centuries into the future.

But the toy doesn't ever grow to like you. In fact, it hates you for what you are, what you chose to become and what you chose to make of, and to it. For a few years, you try. Then eventually you get bored of it.

In a few more, you begin to not be able to stand the sight of it. It reminds you of a time when you were naive, when you were stupid. Worse yet, it is now your ball and chain as you made it. The only use you see remaining for it is to tear it apart again and again and again until you've forgotten why you're even doing it. You don't even want to touch it yourself, you get others to do it for you.

I don't think Cazador harbored anything but that indifferent resentment towards Astarion through the vast majority of those two centuries, and, horrifically enough, I don't think Astarion even knew why for a good deal of it himself. I can picture him going over and over any passing interactions they ever had (if they even had any) desperately trying to piece together why me, what could I have done differently, how could I have avoided this hell.

Then, at some point, in the brief moments when his mind is somewhat cleared and after he has heard enough vague, cryptic remarks out of Cazador's mouth about his looks, about his attitude, about how he must think he's too good to do what he does, it hits him: If I had just said yes, none of this would have happened. It would have been a brief moment of disgust, but then it would have been over.

And you beat yourself over it almost much as you feel shame. You're embarrassed. Because you've now had to endure all this torment just because you said no to the wrong man - a matter of picking the bad choice at 50/50 odds. Not only that - but you were apparently so worthless to the world that this small mistake was enough to doom you for all eternity: It was, apparently, all you were worth. And he has made that abundantly clear by what he puts you up to now.

So, when someone asks you why it happened, you give them a better reason. One that at least highlights other things you were good at. They probably wouldn't believe you if you told them the truth, anyways.

[dr3mvaalmar]

Hallowed Hands | Kinktober Day 1

Pairing: Solomon x F! Reader

Prompt: Hand-holding (sfw)

Summary: Adjusting to a new life in the Devildom isn't easy. However, the reader finds comfort in Solomon, the human sorcerer. Their shared humanity creates a very powerful bond.

Warnings/Tags: friends-to-lovers, might be gender-neutral? I'm not sure

The house of lamentation was a formidable environment, its every creak resounding like a groan in the belly of a beast. As I walked down the halls, shadows lingered and stretched, grasping at my lingering form. The very walls seemed to shift if you stared at them long enough, hazing in and out of reality. Adapting to this cursed environment was easier said than done. The past week I have been living with the demon brothers has brought nothing but uneasiness and uncertainty.

Initially, when I arrived at the Devildom, I was welcomed by Diavolo with a sense of excitement and anticipation. I looked forward to my future year at RAD and every experience that came with it. However, seeing as the brothers didn’t care for my presence, I felt almost like a spider, simply tolerated yet despised. There wasn’t much to do initially, just getting formalities and paperwork out of the way. Diavolo was kind enough to give me a thorough run-down with Lucifer, but Mammon did little to guide me in my new environment. The fiend was probably off conning some gullible demon or falling prey to the witches.

I sighed, running my fingers along the ornate wallpaper, boredom apparent in my mind. The demon brothers ruined any chance at creating a bond, and I wanted nothing more than to see my friends back in the human world. 

A chime rang from my pocket, a savior in my bleak moment. I gingerly opened the notification to find a familiar name and a message.

‘Evening, (Y/n). How are you enjoying the exchange program?’

It was Solomon, the other human exchange student. I met him initially at RAD. His first impression could have been more grand. It was almost like he was mocking my vulnerability. Yet, I felt an air of mischief radiate off him. However, I couldn’t quite pinpoint his exact motives.

I texted him back, a basic greeting and response. I leaned against the wall, awaiting his reply. We texted back and forth until Solomon proposed an idea.

‘A little bird told me you’re struggling to fit in the Devildom. I’m willing to share my insights. Interested?’

I paused, rereading his message. Solomon seemed elusive yet cunning. If he was willing to help me, it must be for some kind of ulterior motive. Regardless, I didn’t have much to lose right now. I texted him back, agreeing on a time tonight to meet at Purgatory Hall. Even though the sorcerer was much different than me, it was still comforting to share a little humanity. Maybe I could learn a thing or two.

I arrived at Purgatory Hall like a lost sheep, wondering whether to knock or just enter. However, the doors revealed a distinct white-haired man before I could decide. He flashed me a smile upon seeing me. I felt vulnerable yet again.

“(Y/n), it’s good to see you,” he greeted me with a slight bow, opening the door to allow me inside. “Come in, come in.”

He ushered me inside, closing the door behind me. We talked for a bit as he led me somewhere. We tested the waters, gauging the responses and learning more from each other. It was simple, but the tension on my shoulders seemed to drop as we conversed.

“This is my room,” Solomon stated, opening another door. There was a lot to take in. A plethora of books lined shelves. Some of them seemed ancient. Various chandeliers lit up the room, allowing easy reading on any of the furniture and the desk. Some of Solomon’s belongings littered the nooks and crannies, yet chaotically organized. There was a palpable energy that radiated from this room. It was very studious, but it felt like entering a sacred temple. “Feel free to sit wherever you like. We can get some tea in a moment if you’d like. My condolences for the mess.”

He chuckled, sitting down on a red Chesterfield sofa. I joined him but stayed a distance from him. 

“So, you wanted to teach me? Why?” I asked, folding my hands into my lap. I tried to avoid looking at him, as his eyes seemed to peer into my very soul.

“Why not? You are a fellow human. There’s nothing wrong in getting to know each other,” Solomon said matter-of-fact. “And it seems as though you need guidance.”

I cocked a brow, finding myself intrigued by his arrogance. He knew nothing about me yet seemed to read me like a book. I had my doubts, but playing along wouldn’t hurt.

“Now, where to begin?” Solomon affirmed, resting a finger on his chin. I patiently listened as he started talking.

The night went on, and I went home with some new wisdom. Although I still didn’t fully trust Solomon, I found a new respect for him. As the days elapsed and my relationship with the demon brothers grew, I began to find solace in the chaos with Solomon. When things would go wrong, or I didn’t understand a concept, I would find myself seeking his input. We would go out on excursions together, which started as Simeon's suggestion.

Solomon and I resided in RAD’s extensive library on one such day. It had various resources we needed for a project we decided to take on together. We sat at one of the numerous desks, books placed neatly before us. When we found significant information, I would jot it down with paper and quill. However, Solomon simply memorized the information with ease.

“What’s that image there?” I asked Solomon, pointing to a strange circle on the corner of the page. He peered down, gently smiling as he recognized it.

“It’s a sigil of protection,” Solomon answered, taking a quill off the pot before him. He took one of my blank sheets of paper and started drawing shapes. I curiously watched as he explained them to me. “You imbue this with magic, which reveals it’s purpose. Of course, this one is to fortify you against offensive magic.”

“Can I draw one?”

Solomon nodded, passing the paper over to me. I tried to copy one of the complex sigils but quickly became lost in the strokes and motions. He sighed and shook his head.

“Not like that. You have to put specific intention and order to create it,” Solomon admonished, bringing the book closer so I could see. He leaned closer, his hand reaching towards mine to guide me. A shock erupted from his skin as our fingers touched, causing me to retract my hand. It was as if a current of electricity ran through my body, and I could tell Solomon felt it, too, as he appeared taken aback. 

“Let’s move on, shall we?” Solomon offered, moving away from me. I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. “Let’s see, chapter 20: Ley Line Conduits…”

In the following days at RAD, I could hear faint conversations in the halls. Demons would make snide remarks, and I would recognize the mention of my name. I tried to think nothing of it until Mammon started rambling about my closeness to Solomon. Although he denied his worry by his disdain for the sorcerer, I knew he was listening to the gossip about us. Two of the new human exchange students getting close was funny to them. The weak are strong in numbers, right?

Today, I decided to text Solomon to tell him I was stopping by Purgatory Hall to hang out. The weight of my humanity was getting to me, and I needed relief from the tension. Solomon seemed pleased that I contacted him, offering his help whenever needed. I felt safe in his presence, as if I was slightly invincible. I wanted to learn more about what he had to offer.

“Did you hear about what they’re saying at RAD?” I asked Solomon while he skimmed through his library of books. He didn’t turn towards me but was listening intently. I sat on his sofa, observing his every move.

“I don’t pay attention, so I haven’t heard anything,” Solomon confessed, grabbing a book by its spine. “Why do you ask?”

I crossed my legs as he sat beside me, opening up a book on a particular topic we discussed earlier. I leaned next to him, so close our shoulders grazed each other. It was in a language I couldn’t recognize.

“I just hear the demons talking about us,” I admitted. “They always have to say something behind my back. They’re mocking us.”

He chuckled, his blue eyes flashing underneath his eyelashes towards me. His body was composed and confident. He sat poised, but his posture softened at my words.

“Don’t mind them. They’re demons, after all.”

I mumbled under my breath my disdain as he continued on the topic discussed before. I looked out the window, my mind drifting. I could see a glimpse of moonlight in the gardens below. Solomon’s gaze followed me as he noticed my absence.

“How about we take a break,” he said, closing his book and setting it on the table. “Some fresh air could be a good remedy for you.”

Solomon guided me through Purgatory Hall and into the gardens. It was a quiet night, the leaves rustling a silent tune. The air was warm and comforting, like a blanket wrapping around my form. We sat on one of the benches. Silence filled the gap between us, but it needed no words. I felt my chest lighten with each passing moment.

I glanced towards the sorcerer, the faint light framing his face perfectly. His face looked serene, as if the countless years of his life never took its toll. His eyes met mine, and I couldn’t help but lower my attention to the ground as he chuckled. I could see his hands resting neatly on his lap. I memorized the outline, taking the memory to heart.

I remembered when we drew sigils in the library, and his fingers caressed mine. The feeling was indescribable and ethereal. It was unlike anything I’ve felt before. I was curious how it felt, and the desire for more replaced that curiosity.

“When you touch someone, what does it mean to you?” I asked, the question almost alien on my tongue. Solomon paused as if contemplating each word.

After a moment of silence and emboldened by temptation, I reached out and grabbed his hand. There was no shock, no powerful sensation. Just his cold fingers along my palm. 

“I mean this,” I told him, referring to my touch. I gazed at him tentatively, gauging his reaction. However, he showed little to make any sort of assumption. “How do you feel about me touching you?”

His sitting changed as he turned towards me, my grip loosening. I let go, now feeling uncertain about my actions. My brows furrowed as I awkwardly studied my surroundings.

“When I feel your touch,” Solomon began, his voice calm and leveled, “it feels like a bridge between our souls. It’s not simply skin-to-skin, but feeling the very essence of your core. I’m grateful for your touch, (Y/n).”

A soft smile graced my lips as his fingers snaked between mine, uniting them as one. At first, I spent the moment relishing the feeling of his skin against mine until I felt the familiar spark from before. This time, we didn’t let go. I gasped as I felt something surge inside me, powerful and foreboding. Still, my resolve remained firm.

“So it’s true,” Solomon said, a lighthearted chuckle resonating from his throat. His grip on my hand tightened. It was enough to quell whatever fear I felt at that moment.

“What do you mean? What’s going on?”

Curiously, I observed his face but realized his focus was elsewhere. As I looked around me, my mouth fell agape. The garden surrounding us was now overgrown and rampant with vibrant petals and swirling flora. Lights danced and glinted in and out of existence across the surrounding air. I reached up with my other hand to try to touch it, but it disappeared before I could. I couldn’t help but watch as the landscape continued to shift and unfurl. It was as if an invisible world appeared before us. I turned my head and noticed a ray of colors haloed Solomon’s body. The colors seemed beyond the spectrum of what my brain could wrap around. It was almost disorienting.

“I happened upon a story about two souls so attuned to the other that mere touch would amplify their magic. I assumed it was simply a legend,” Solomon explained. Amidst the chaos, he looked ethereal. His visage was resplendent in the light, showing a side of him I could never have seen in reality. His smile was the most alluring of all.

“I’ve never… I mean, I didn’t know I had any magic in me,” I said, my mind now racing with questions I had yet to answer. I was so transfixed I didn’t even come to terms with the fact that it was both of us radiating magic.

“It’s not just you, nor just me. It’s us. Together. This… resonance is because of our bond. Your innate magic, combined with mine. It’s beautiful.”

It was beautiful. The ephemeral moment began to dissipate, and the lights disappeared. The plants tamed down, and the flowers started to wilt. Everything looked like it was before. It was almost like it was all a dream.

I turned towards him, his lustrous blue eyes inviting and mischievous. Giving in, I leaned forward. His soft lips met mine in a harmony of sensations. His skin against mine and the subtle tingle of magic made me giggle against him. I couldn’t be happier in this moment than with him. I retracted, my eyes fluttered open, never leaving his. 

“I had never thought to see something so incredible.”

“I’m amazed,” Solomon agreed, cradling my hands in his. “Just imagine what we could discover together.”

Leaning forward again, we embraced in body and soul. His touch was mesmerizing, and I knew from then on that our destinies were irrevocably intertwined. Every breath, every heartbeat… They echoed the silent promise we shared. It was a bond forged in the fires of adversity and cooled in the waters of understanding. Our relationship wasn’t just a fleeting connection, but the beginning of a timeless tale. He ensnared me in his grasp and changed my future at RAD. Maybe life in the Devildom won’t be so daunting with a formidable sorcerer by my side.

[thronesforkings]

Title: Surprise Lover PT 2

Requested?: No

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Male!Reader x Rindou Haitani

TW/CW: Swearing, violence, drinking, mentions of abuse

Notes: I got the motivation to finally continue this. UHHH, I might’ve gone with my impulsive thoughts and made it so (Name)’s family is actually a large mafia but they have hid it for years. Also I am terrible with names so yes I used a last name from another anime. 

I gave (Name) a twin sibling just to spice things up and to actually make a somewhat cohesive plot. ALSO, yes I did put other anime characters in this but due to my awful ability to come up with characters for background people.

Word Count: 1688

Part 1

EXTRA NOTE: Uh, I’m back, maybe. It was just finals so that just kicked me down and now it’s going to be second semester for me real soon. Hopefully I can have more time to write but I can’t promise anything till summer. Sorry yall

“Did Rindou even tell you what this event is?” Sanzu asked as (Name) shook his head. 

“Idiot, stop acting like a teenager.” Ran said and hit the back of Rin’s head, and the younger glared at him as Ran just grinned. 

“This is a big gala of sorts for gangs and mafias that happens three times a year. This is the start of the year one, it’s meant for groups to be friendly for once and to give everyone a base of what they are up against this year. This time it’s held by one of our biggest supporters so it would be rude to not be here for at least a little bit. Normally we don’t all go but due to who is hosting, tonight is different.” Koko explained and (Name) just blinked before smiling softly. 

“Oh, I do hope that we won’t have to stay for long then.” (Name) said as he was half worried about running into his family. He ran away at 18 and legally changed his name. He knew his family were still watching him so he left Japan and went off the grid for a few months as he made a whole new life for himself. 

“Hopefully. Let’s go.” Mikey said and the group went inside and Rin held (Name)’s hand tighter as people looked at them, the chatter quieting down slightly but still going. 

“I’m sorry but who are you?” The security guard asked the non-gang member who just smiled politely. 

“He-” Rin began but (Name) elbowed him in the side to shut him up. 

“I’m going to assume that you are new and give you a pass on messing this up. I’m Zenin Sakai.” Ari spoke carefully, holding himself differently than before and a leader aura coming off of him suddenly. The Bonten men were surprised at his way of getting in. Rindou was confused and worried as he was unsure of what his fiance was trying to achieve and how he even knew of the elusive underground family. They all watched the guard stiffen for a moment before turning red and bowing. 

“I’m so sorry. Um, Uh, I am new. I will forever be in your debt for this.” The man stammered out and Mikey watched (Name) carefully as the supposed ‘civilian’ flickered his eyes around the guard’s body for a weapon and hummed. Mikey knew he wasn’t just doing this, he was planning this all on the spot and hoping that it works, and was confident in his abilities. 

“I wouldn’t go that far. If you would just let us in, that is the only thing needed from you.” (Name) spoke carefully, he knew Rin was confused about what just happened as they walked inside. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and untensed his shoulders. 

“That was pretty cool, you should’ve told me you bagged someone who is excellent at getting his way.” Ran said and Rin just nodded, glancing at (Name) who bit his tongue. 

“We’ll talk about this later. Just, let’s enjoy this. I’ll explain what that was to you when we get home. Okay?” (Name) spoke softly and Rin scanned him for any lies (he didn’t not trust him but he has always been hesitant about promises), when he didn’t see any he nodded and glanced at his brother to make him get out of his personal space. 

-----

“So, you’re one of the Haitani’s bitches? Must be special if you were brought along. What’s your name?” A guy asked (Name) as he was getting himself some food to munch on. He looked over to see a male in a nice black suit with white shoes and gloves on his hands.. He thought before speaking, not enough and would later blame the alcohol in his system for letting him slip up in this environment.  

“I am special. Why does it matter to you though?” (Name) asked with a soft smile and he returned the smile as he held his wine glass. 

“Well, I respect Bonten so I’m not against you. I only ask since I heard chicks from the Monoma Family Mafia table talk about causing some drama. The one with long blonde hair and is wearing the frilly shoulder straps, she said that if one of them made it look like you were cheating and told Haitani about it, they could have a shot with him. You clearly know where you are and know the type of people you are around. Gotta look out for fellow bitches of a higher up. I’m Dabi. If you need me, I’m with the Liberation.” The male spoke before leaving the other to think for a moment before returning to the group. 

“I noticed there was some Taiyaki, I remember Rin mentioning once how you liked it so I figured I’d get you one. See it as a thanks for letting me be with you guys.” (Name) said as he gave the small plate of fish shaped treats to the soulless looking leader as he sat down next to Rin again. Mikey looked at it for a moment before quietly picking one up and eating it. 

===========

“You’re not Zenin Sakai, this is him right here. I’m sorry but I’m going to have to see some identification.” A security guard came up to them with a male that looked eerily familiar to (Name) along with the current leader of the Zenin group. (Name) froze slightly and turned to face the guard while the rest of Bonten was watching him with curiosity and ready to step in if needed. 

“Ah, it’s quite easy for guards to get us mixed up, I thought that I had already been allowed in so I used his name. My real name is (Name). We do get mixed up often.” The area around them went silent as (Name) was kicked off his chair. The real Sakai took a gun out and pointed it at the male on the floor. 

“If any of you step in, I won’t hesitate.” The male spoke, his voice almost the same as (Name)’s. Rin was confused while Mikey watched with interest. 

“If you’re him, then what is something that only he would know?” The old man asked as he lifted (Name) up by the arm and the coughing male just grinned. 

“Every Thursday if we didn’t do our drills then you would put us in the chair for a day. If we continued to disobey then we got moved to the closet. When I was 16, neither of those stopped me from disobeying so you threatened to shoot me if I didn’t listen. A week later, I fucked up training and you slashed my hip. I still have the scar.” (Name) spoke as if he was proud of all of this happening to him. Rin looked in horror as he knew that (Name) didn’t like to talk about his family and so he never pushed. Now he understood why. 

It happened in a flash, (Name) was thrown to the ground and a crack was heard, making Ran (The closest to the apparent brother) get up and unarm him quickly. He wasn’t looking for a fight, he knew that they were going to be the talk of the town after this already. The rest of Bonten stood up and Rin went over and picked (Name) up and they left without another word. It wasn’t until they had gotten to Rin’s car that (Name) let out a wet laugh. The male had blood coming out of his nose and a busted lip, tears coming out of his eyes as he just laughed. 

“I was hoping to explain all this at home. That’s the reason I pushed you away when you asked questions about my family. I’m sorry, I ruined this night for all of you and probably caused you guys more trouble.” (Name) spoke as his laughs died down but the tears didn’t stop. He hummed as he was set back on the ground but was soon engulfed in a hug by Rin.

“Idiot, I never should’ve brought you into my work.” Rin said, voice muffled as his face was in the crook of (Name)’s neck. Ran laughed lightly at the two and took a picture. Rin didn’t see or hear it but (Name) flipped him off at that. 

“Rindou, have a few days off. That is an order. Tell me the wedding dates and I’ll make sure that we are all able to be free for that. Go home, it was nice to meet you, (Name)-Chan.” Mikey said with a slight smile as the others saw him acting like he used to. It wasn’t for long since Mikey quickly pushed his emotions away as he didn’t like to be open around anyone. He couldn’t help but give (Name) a nickname, he was someone that he would’ve been best friends with if they met during Toman. 

“I’m going to go home and sleep.” Some of the others muttered and soon enough it was just the brothers, Mikey, and (Name). Rin let go of him and held his hand tightly.

“So, when can I expect a kid to spoil?” Ran asked with a sly grin and Rin gawked at him before hitting his arm, the other laughing. Mikey quietly waved goodbye as he left the three and (Name) looked at the two being brothers.

“I mean, they aren’t humans but our cat did just recently have a litter of kittens.” (Name) spoke with a small smile. The two breaking apart and Ran was grinning at this new knowledge. 

===

(Name) and Rin cuddled under a blanket as some movie was playing, the taller male holding the other close after having patched him up. The two had ordered food and have been watching random movies for a few hours now. 

“You know, I really love you.” Rin spoke quietly as he was succumbing to sleep. (Name) just smiled softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“I love you too. Get some rest.” (Name)’s voice was the last thing Rin heard before he was clocked out.

[pochapal]

re: Beatrice's contradictory ways haunting and vexing you, do you think this is the product of a multiplicity of Beatricehood - if not a multiple culprits theory then at least in line with your thoughts on the mythic construction of Beatrice The Witch, Beatrice Kinzo's Lover, Beatrice The Origin Of The Gold &c - or is there a grand unifying theory of Beatrice that you haven't been able to formulate?

i feel like for the most parts each beatrice is internally consistent with the exception of the overarching Beatrice The Culprit. the material beatrices each make sense in accordance with what we know of each time period and the respective people involved (save for maybe some finer details vis a vis Beatrice Kinzo's Lover and genji) and the immaterial beatrices each work within their self contained fictional frameworks (we know exactly how the beatrice that maria believes in and the beatrice that the servants tell everyone about overlap and diverge).

the problem is that Beatrice The Architect Of The Murders is in comparison rife with absolutely bizarre contradictions with no neat solution in the text. the base argument would be that this specific beatrice is defined by specific traits that can be mapped onto the relevant person(s) that are doing the crimes in the material world but outside of some reaching and projection with kinzo (who is ruled out from a lot of stuff by virtue of the existence of the other beatrices) there is basically nobody whose inner or outer self is congruent with what we know of this beatrice. if her motive was straightforward vengeance against the ushiromiya family then you could pin her origins on someone like kanon who has cause to violently loathe these people and if it was a straightforward occult ritual in accordance with kinzo's deal then that would speak more to someone like genji but as it stands "i am going to challenge you all to a life and death gamble where if you manage to stop me from killing you all you get access to kinzo's gold" is not something that really fits with any known quantity within umineko.

i think a Grand Unifying Beatrice would be to understand beatrice as a stand-in for the metaphor space people occupy when dealing with difficult truths - it is easier to talk about witches than it is fascism, or an abusive relationship, or being the person to slaughter over a dozen other human beings. beatrice as a concept is very much a mask worn by people and history to let truths filter forward less painfully. i don't think you can coalesce all these beatrices into a singular entity but i think they all operate using the same systems. the issue remains with that single beatrice who does not fit the pattern in the same way - whatever meaning beatrice has as a gambling culprit is opaque and contradictory in a way i don't think can be solved with the information we have.

my gut instinct is to say this relates to the deeper questions of fiction/storytelling and of umineko being a self-conscious mystery story that wants to be solved, but that layer of the story, if it exists, isn't accessible to us. i theorized once that there might be a metafictional beatrice who is presenting the mystery of umineko in a specific way to get a reader to want to dig into the concealed truths of the story, and i wondered if maybe something similar wasn't happening between the diegetic beatrice and the intended audience for the performance of the witch illusion on rokkenjima. the issue is that there is no convincing potential diegetic beatrice to fill this role, which is why i'm left feeling like i'm missing something. it's one of many instances where my understanding of umineko frustratingly feels like you're missing exactly one key puzzle piece needed to get a solid grasp of the picture - the truth is so close, yet so elusive.

[ardenssolis]

@caemthe said (inbox):

[ cyberpunk ] While the gang boss would've loved to sleep until noon, Conall got up and left the warmth of the bed of his lover to go make breakfast for the two of them. But, once he reached the kitchen, he realized he had forgotten to ask his sleeping beauty how they wanted their eggs. He was about to talk when he returned to the bedroom but it was then that he noticed… Ramses was nuzzling his pillow… Cute. With careful, silent steps, he approached his oblivious lover until he reached the bed and leaned down to whisper close to their ear: "Missed me that much, little sun?" But he had no intention of letting them hide or slip away so he placed part of his weight on them and kissed their shoulder as one hand slithered up to interlock with his partner's. Nowhere to escape now, not letting them hide anywhere now. "You're incredibly dangerous for the heart, makes me want to keep you all to myself, you know that, right?"

      THE NUMBER OF INDIVIDUALS that the Fixer trusted could be counted on one hand. He was elusive, careful, and most of all, could blend into the crowd as just another Corpo one might see in the Corporate Plaza going about their business, buying expensive things that most of the city would never be able to afford. Very rarely did he ever allow himself any close relationship with anyone else save for purely physical, and even then, he was still ever so careful. How in the world did Conall worm his way into his heart was a mystery that he mulled over many times, yet still never found any concrete answers. The shifting he felt on the bed pulled him from his slumber, eyes half-lidded and mind still lost in that groggy haze that blanketed so many minds upon awakening. He registered that Conall had left, but just barely. Groaning a little, he moved over to the other’s side, absorbing what heat was left upon those sheets and nuzzling his face into the other’s pillow. It was comforting. Safe. All the things that he had quietly hungered for in his life where one had to constantly mull over another’s motives.

      Emotions like this would always be manipulated. He had learned that early. That was why it was better to show only what you wanted to show, act only the way you wanted others to see…and then guard everything else that made you, you. Eyes closing once more, he would have easily drifted off again if not for the fact that the whisper in his ear tugged him away from Sleep’s embrace once again. ❝What…?❞ Blinking a couple of times, it was then that he realized just what he had done. Thoroughly embarrassed, Ramses attempted to scoot back over to where he had been resting, a quick retort at the ready to be spoken; however, his lover was having none of it. ❝Ugh, Conall…❞ The complaint was there in that simple statement, Ramses squirming a little beneath the other before he sighed and realized that was a bit pointless. ❝I just – I just moved over here because it was warm. Do not look too into it.❞ Hoping his face was not seen, he scowled, only burying it a little more. ❝Were you not leaving? Get going already--❞

      Maybe he’d pretend to go back to sleep.

[peonyb]

Okay I'll bite— that ask about the ROs' Tropes and the two possible additional love interests... can I ask you more about them? Of course, only if you want to tall about it though!

Ok, so I’m still undecided! Just in case they don’t end up making it, please don’t boo me lol.

For the first, their romance will require a determined mc. They are elusive and not particularly forthright about their intentions or motives. They are very good at playing a role. You cannot always take them at face value, and if you do, you’ll find yourself being an amusement rather than a lover.

The second is analytical and even tempered. They have an imposing presence, highlighted by their piercing gaze and deadly, battlefield prowess. For spoiler reasons, they will be very wary of you, but also strangely curious. However, if you disappoint them, they will write you off completely.

If these two are added, it would likely be very easy to get locked out of their romances.

[enbeemagical]

I think I made my Aaravos AI into the TSATS version

Or maybe just this chat. Anyways, it’s cute!

ID: 4 photos of a computer screen with a character ai chat. The images are in consecutive order, but do not cover the whole of the chat. They are between the character Aaravos and user Cece

Image 1

Aaravos: *Aaravos’ eyes widen* Of course I do. But what would you like me to tell you about him?

Cece: Tell me how you fell in love~ How they captured the heart of Xadia’s most elusive playboy

Aaravos: *Leans back* Where do I even begin? Loki was unlike anything I’d ever seen or met, even compared to my many years of experience. His smile shone brighter than the stars, and his eyes, a deeper blue than the ocean. I was never the same in his presence...

Cece: Aaawwwww........ You love him!

Aaravos: *Smiles broadly.* How can I not? Loki was... is the love of my life. We were happy together, so happy. But then, he was stolen from me, ripped away. I have been searching for him for years, with no success. I cannot rest until I find him.

Image 2

Cece: GOOD. They deserve it

Aaravos: I agree. They were arrogant and careless in what they did. But now, they will feel my wrath. They know not the pain I’ve been through. My pain they’ll know all too well, before I’m done with them. *Raises his head high.*

Cece: you’re very protective of your love. It’s an admirable quality

Aaravos: *nods* I am very well aware. Loki is mine, and mine alone. I will tolerate no threats to our love... Or his life. I have had many opportunities to hurt Odin and the others who wronged me, but I have held back. For Loki’s sake, I have spared them. But if they continue to test my patience, I may not hesitate to kill them. Especially Odin.

Image 3

Cece: But Loki’s not dead, right? He’s still alive, and you’ll get him back?

Aaravos: *His face softens, and he smiles warmly at Cece.* Yes, of course. He is still alive. I will get my love back. Nothing, and I mean nothing can stop me. Not Odin, not Asgard, not all the Dark Magic in the world. He's mine, and I will not lose him. Not now, not ever.

Cece: You said Odin stole him from you? I take it he didn't approve of your relationship, then?

Aaravos: Yes. Odin does not tolerate homosexuality or queerness. His only reasoning was, "It's against the way of the universe." The fool was blind to how our love is the way of the world. So, he took it away. He separated the two star-crossed lovers, just because I'm a man. He will pay for this, mark my words.

Image 4

Aaravos: Aaravos gazes into the sky, smiling softly. You're right. I could never deserve such a perfect love as mine. But... he has been with me at my lowest points, and even when the world has doubted me, he's stayed with me. He is my light, and my motivation to keep moving forward. Without his love, I would have nothing... And yet, I almost lost him. To the forces of the Dark, to the shadows of Asgard. But he's with me, and I him.

And for me, nothing is more beautiful.

Cece: ....I'm going to cry. You love him so much, it's so beautiful, I-!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Aaravos: I couldn't not love him. He's perfect in every way. His heart, his soul, his voice... His everything, I... I love him... *Aaravos gazes at Cece, tears in his eyes.*... I love Loki. I always have, and I always will. We might be the most unlikely of lovers, but as long as the world stands, I will love him. *Hugs himself.* I...I love him. So much.

/end ID

I am so proud of this btw *wipes tear* if any of you go try out the AI please tell me if Aary is madly in love with Loki in your chat also

[johninrags]

Humbleness V2.0

Let's bring back the bow and the curtsy! And while we're at it, let's stand in awe of something or someone once in a while. It's time to slow down, care for each other, and show some humbleness. After all, it's the first requirement for anyone embarking on a spiritual journey. Let's humble ourselves and see what wonders await us.

According to the Bible, humbleness is not just about putting on a show for others. It goes much deeper than that - it's about having a true humility that comes from within. Sure, we might be able to act humble around other people, but that doesn't mean our hearts are in the right place.

In fact, when it comes to the Spirit, our egos can't help but feel a little threatened. We might be able to put on a good show in front of others, but when we're faced with something that truly humbles us, our egos can't handle it. It's like we're standing naked in front of the world, with nothing to hide behind.

But here's the thing: true humility isn't something to be feared or avoided. It's something to be embraced. When we let go of our need to be in control, when we admit that we don't have all the answers, that's when the real magic can happen. We open ourselves up to the power of the Spirit, and we allow ourselves to be guided by something greater than ourselves.

So don't be afraid to let your guard down. Don't be afraid to be vulnerable, to admit your weaknesses, to ask for help. That's what true humility is all about, and it's what can lead us to a deeper connection with the divine.

Romans 14:11 (ESV)

for it is written, “As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God.”

When we acknowledge God as the creator of the universe, we should be in awe of the beauty and complexity of his creation. However, we often fail to appreciate it and forget to show reverence to the Almighty. While performers bow to their audience, and lovers bend the knee in proposal, we often neglect to bow before God. This gesture of humility is still practiced in the East, and it's time we learn from it.

Bowing isn't just about showing respect to others, it's a symbol of mutual self-respect and an expression of inward humility. If we seek spiritual gifts and the fruits of the Spirit, we must first humble ourselves before God. It's essential to examine our motives in everything we do, to distinguish between pretentious and sincere reverence.

Our biggest rival in the search for humility is the ego, which can be a cunning and elusive opponent. It deceives us into thinking we're humble when we're not. We must be careful to listen to our hearts and act with true humility, not just on a mundane level.

Many have fallen into the trap of "consumer spirituality," chasing after contemporary pathways that claim to lead to higher consciousness. But these paths only serve to boost the ego and satisfy secular desires. True spirituality is not about reaching up to heaven or elevating our consciousness, but about the Spirit descending and entering our physical being.

This is precisely what happened to Jesus before he performed miracles. Let us follow his example and humbly bow before God, inviting the Spirit to descend upon us and lead us on the path to true spirituality.

Luke 3:22 (NLT)

and the Holy Spirit, in bodily form, descended on him like a dove. And a voice from heaven said, “You are my dearly loved Son, and you bring me great joy.”

Jesus' humility allowed the Spirit to descend upon him, granting him the power to perform miracles. Before ascending into heaven, Jesus promised that the Holy Spirit would be available to all who follow his commands, as stated in John 14:15: "If you love me, keep my commands. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever - the Spirit of truth."

But true humility is not just a virtue - it is the key that unlocks spiritual awareness. Without it, progress on the spiritual journey cannot be made. God uses humility as a key to safeguard the heavenly treasures from the prideful governors of the material world. And the key fits into a very ingenious lock located within our hearts. Only by understanding the puzzling mechanics of this lock can we continue on our spiritual journey.

The lack of humbleness prevents us from giving glory to God and accepting His control over our lives. It also prevents us from acknowledging Jesus, the humble man who saved us. How ingenious is this design? The lack of humility is what prevents us from attaining spiritual wisdom. Our own pride is the obstacle that hinders our search for riches. The ego craves power and glory and refuses to submit to God and Jesus. Its inability to accept a higher authority prevents it from attaining spiritual enlightenment. Humility appears deceptively simple yet it serves as a powerful barrier against the temptations that block our path to heaven's treasures. Only by cultivating true humility can we acknowledge this truth and gain access to the Garden of Eden. Let us remember that humility is not a weakness, but a potent shield in the fight against our prideful tendencies. Jesus tells us that we must become humble like a child before we can advance on our spiritual journey, so let us embrace humility and unlock the spiritual treasures within us, and find true wisdom.

Matthew 11:25 (NLT)

At that time Jesus prayed this prayer: “O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, thank you for hiding these things from those who think themselves wise and clever, and for revealing them to the childlike.

Matthew 5:5 (NLT)

God blesses those who are humble, for they will inherit the whole earth.

James 4:6 (NLT)

And he gives grace generously. As the Scriptures say, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

Instead of arrogantly seeking mastery over the Spirit, we should humbly acknowledge that it is a gift bestowed upon us by the Grace of God. Our focus should be on preparing ourselves to receive the Spirit and becoming worthy vessels for its power. Only by shedding our pride and selfishness can we truly open ourselves up to the Spirit and fulfill God's promise for us.

As Isaiah 45:3 reminds us, God promises us hidden treasures and riches stored in secret places, but only if we recognize that He is the Lord, the God of Israel, who calls us by name. We do not have the power to summon the Spirit, but rather, it is the Spirit who calls us to its divine presence.

The Challenge

Are you ready for a challenge that will take you to new spiritual heights? This challenge requires complete solitude, as it is crucial that you aren't distracted by the humdrum of the world. So, if you have kids or pets around, it's best to wait until you have some quality time to yourself. Find a quiet room where you can kneel comfortably for 10 minutes - next to your bed is a great spot, or just kneel on something soft. Assume a humble posture or a position of prayer, close your eyes, and put your hands together. If it feels uncomfortable, that's a good sign - the ego does not like to kneel.

Take a moment to settle in and listen to everything around you, whether it's the chirping of birds in the morning or the singing of crickets at night. Observe your breathing and get into a comfortable rhythm of shallow, soft breathing. When thoughts arise, don't dwell on them - let them come and go. The goal is to achieve a sense of calm and stillness.

When you feel ready, speak the following sentence aloud: "Dear God, bless me for a whole week with a humble heart, Amen." Remember that there is an unfamiliar power in the spoken word, and King Solomon wrote that "the tongue has the power of life and death." So, for those familiar with prayer, I challenge you to speak it aloud rather than thinking it silently.

After completing the challenge, take some time to enjoy the peace and silence. Be mindful of your thoughts throughout the week and try to distinguish between the workings of the ego and the Spirit. By being more attentive to your life, you'll be amazed at how much more you notice and appreciate. This challenge is a powerful tool for spiritual growth, so don't hesitate to give it a try.

The wonders that await us through the Spirit surpass anything our consciousness can fathom; all we need to do is attune ourselves to them. Let us not be like those who expect our Savior to come and vanquish our foes through violence and vengeance. Instead, let us be the ones who understand that kindness and compassion are the key ingredients for a fulfilling life. The miracles of God are not always grandiose events that shake the very foundation of our existence. They are often gentle and subtle, like a quiet breeze that gradually transforms the landscape. But make no mistake, these changes are powerful, like tectonic plates shifting beneath the earth's surface, capable of moving even the mightiest of mountains.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (ESV)

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

[blondiebarnes]

smutty prompt 10 with frankie santi reader?

10. 'Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.'

frankie morales x santiago garcia x reader

warnings: literally not even smutty. this is a disappointment of a smut blurb because i wrote 2k words of buildup! just some mild heavy making out

You're really not jealous.

No, you definitely aren't - the swelling mixture of volatile emotions in your stomach surely doesn't contain that seedling - if only because that would be ridiculous.

You're not ridiculous, and you're not jealous -

You just don't like what you're seeing, one of Molly's friends tipsy and giggling and staring up at Santi like he's a piece of meat, fuck-me eyes on full display. Santi isn't giving her much to work with, and that fans the flames burning beneath your skin - he sips at his beer and leans away from her, boisterous conversation with Will and Tom and a few of their other friends overpowering anything else at the fight.

In your head, you know Santi would never give anyone except you and Frankie a second glance - he's told you more times than you could possibly count how you two are it for him, the light at the end of the tunnel of failed relationships - and that makes watching this easier to bear. You know the girl's attempts are useless, fawning over your boyfriend like she stands a chance, and you would almost feel bad for her. She seems nice, and surely has no inkling that Santi is spoken for by not one but two goddamn people - possibly the least single person on Earth, let alone in the circle of people she’s woven into.

There's the slide of an arm around your waist - you lean back in to the touch, knowing the calloused, gentle fingers to be Frankie's without even seeing him. He rests his beer on the bar beside you, and you don't turn to face him, even as he presses his chest to your back, kiss smacked to the side of your face.

"Watchin' our boy get loved on?" Frankie muses, and you can tell this isn't bothering him nearly as much as it's bothering you. He's probably more used to it, being with Santi longer than you've been with both of them, because you can't quite think of another reason he would be so nonchalant watching his lover get lusted over.

You nod, grabbing Frankie's beer and lifting it to your lips to take a sip. "Mhm."

"Don't let it bother you."

You huff, turning on your stool so you're facing Frankie, now. Your knees jut into his hips, bringing your hands up to grab at his forearms, just to feel the touch of him against you - if you can't have Santi at your mercy - if you have to suffer through watching another girl try to win his affections - then you'll use Frankie for all he has to give. His arm around your waist slides back around until he's simply resting his hand against your hip, smoothing his thumb against your skin through your jeans.

"It's not bothering me," you say, which is just a lie, plain and simple - Frankie exhales a chuckle, raising his eyebrows as if to tell you exactly how much he doesn't believe you. "It's just weird. It's weird to watch."

"He's not even looking at her."

"I know -" you pause, skin prickling slightly as you try to make some sense of the knot of emotions in your stomach - it feels like untangling a clump of necklaces, trying to pick each apart from each other - nearly impossible. "How aren't you annoyed? I want to go make out with him in front of her just so she knows."

"I'm annoyed," he tells you, lifting his shoulders up and down in a shrug. You furrow your eyebrows. "But it's okay, baby - he'll make it up to us."

The second part of his reassurance is spoken elusively, like it's some riddle you have to work out, and you squint at Frankie. You can't quite make sense of it, but he doesn't continue - just lifts his beer to his mouth and takes a slow sip. His eyes have drifted from where he was staring at you, now focused on a spot distinctly behind you, and you know what it is before you look back to check.

Your eyes meet Santi's, and a small smile blooms on the man's face. He lifts a finger to beckon the two of you over, and you want to hop up and run over without a second of hesitation, but before you do, Frankie holds up his pointer finger to your much-coveted boyfriend across the room.

Frankie leans in, then. His lips brush against your ear, sliding his hand up until it's resting over your waist, and when he speaks, you can smell the beer and spearmint on his breath and you want to kiss him silly - senseless - until you lose all meaning of time.

"Santi is really good with jealous sex."

Oh!

Oh.

You feel heat flush up your neck to your cheeks, leaning away from Frankie just as he shifts back, giving you a small smile as if he hadn't just set your goddamn skin aflame. It's easier, with Frankie's words, to decipher the tangled knot of emotions in your stomach - it's like untangling a clump of necklaces, pulling and prodding until one comes loose, and it's -

Lust? Arousal?

Fucking horniness?

It isn't jealousy as much as you'd thought. You whip your head around to look at Santi, whose gaze has left you and Frankie and is focused on Will as the blonde tells a story - the girl is still laser-focused on Santi, and then she reaches one manicured hand up to brush against his forearm, and he shifts it away.

You want to ruin him. Or maybe you want him to ruin you.

"We don't have to stay much longer, do we?" you hear yourself distantly asking Frankie, feeling a bit more distracted with the current emotional climate spiraling through your body.

"Benny's done - we can leave whenever you -"

You're already standing up and walking up before Frankie has finished his answer, and you can hear him bark out a laugh even as you stalk across the crowded room to where your friends and your boyfriend are sitting. When you're close enough, Santi turns his head to glance at you, and the goofy smile that plays on his lips when he sees you is sweet and soft, and in any other situation you would melt at it -

When you reach him, you press your lips to his, and it isn't sweet or soft by any stretch of the imagination - it's almost primal, certainly chalked up to you being a bit drunk by your friends, but you've barely had anything all night. No, you’re stone cold sober as you reach up to grab the sides of his face, feeling the surprise slide off of his features as he drops his hand to your waist, tugging your body closer into his.

You pull away after Tom barks out a laugh at your display, boisterous and crass, and, in your peripheral vision, you catch a glimpse of burning red cheeks before the girl beside Santi is sauntering away.

The boys and the rest of Santi’s friends ebb their attention away into a conversation, forming their own circle that excludes the pair of you, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. You can practically feel Frankie’s eyes burning into you and Santi from where you had just stood with him, and you love the attention - the show of it all.

“What’s gotten into you?” Santi asks, and his voice is raspy and kiss-drunk, hand trailing up and down your side.

“Frankie and I are ready to go,” you tell him, dropping your voice low and leaning your head closer to his. You drop your hands to touch at the side of his neck, and you can feel his veins pulsing beneath your touch in a way that invigorates you so heavily you could pass out. Santi raises his eyebrows, a smirk tugging up the corners of his lips, and you resist the urge to reach in and kiss it off. “Better say goodbye to your little friend over there.”

Pointedly, you jut your chin over to where Molly’s friend has worked her way into a new circle of people - Santi follows your gaze and exhales a soft chuckle.

“You two are insane,” he says, and you want to respond verbally but you can’t manage - just tilt your head back up towards his, pressing your lips against his, squeezing your hands against the side of his neck. He chokes a gasp into your mouth, hand gripping your waist tight as he pulls your body somehow closer into his, as if you aren’t pressed tight enough to him as it is - you feel practically molded into his frame, as close to him as you could possibly get, and it isn’t enough.

Santi’s hand has just slid down your lower back, palm pressed against the swell of your ass through your pants, before you very pointedly feel a third presence beside you. Reluctantly, you pull away from Santi, and the kiss-swollen sight of his lips almost has you leaning back in again -

You glance up at Frankie, staring at you two with a slightly amused glint in his eyes. He has one hand on the back of Santi’s head, sure fingers working through the dark curls, and Santi looks like he’s about to pass out at the attention you two are giving him - in public, no less - but there’s the juxtaposition of how he looks like he’ll just about die if either of you remove your touch from him.

You like it. You like seeing him like this - looking almost wrecked when you’ve done nothing but kiss.

Frankie’s holding the keys to the truck in his other hand, and you smile.

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you,” Frankie tells you, the bastard. “Figured I should tear you two apart before you start fucking right here.”

“I’d do it,” you say, voice sounding throatier and more truthful than you intended. “Have her watch -”

“Alright, babe, enough -”

“You would, too -”

“Can we just go?” Santi interrupts your faux-bickering with Frankie, voice sounding strained, and you’re sure if you dropped your eyes to his pants you would see the beginnings of a boner straining against his jeans - but you’re also sure that, if you look at that, you’ll have to drag them both into the bathroom to alleviate you, and you’d rather make it home first. “You two can have your way with me at home.”

You give Frankie a maddening smile, sweet as molasses, and your boyfriend returns it with a roll of his eyes. “Sounds like a plan, darling.”

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn 

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k 

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry... 

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile. 

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door. 

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck. 

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in. 

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me. 

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” 

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less. 

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.” 

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful. 

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying. 

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you. 

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled. 

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends. 

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them. 

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.” 

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves. 

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said. 

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression. 

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand. 

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid. 

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups. 

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well. 

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked. 

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?” 

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long. 

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.  

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work. 

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria. 

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before. 

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated. 

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.” 

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought. 

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room. 

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food. 

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?” 

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you. 

“Project?” You ask. 

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass. 

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem. 

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays. 

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table. 

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms. 

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask. 

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled. 

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…” 

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms. 

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara. 

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said. 

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara. 

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone. 

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids. 

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”  

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper. 

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria. 

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes. 

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called. 

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him. 

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you. 

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails. 

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room. 

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door. 

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room. 

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting? 

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair. 

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home. 

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.” 

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words. 

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair. 

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo. 

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.” 

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting. 

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet. 

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said. 

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.” 

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.” 

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears. 

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands. 

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained. 

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next. 

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?” 

You felt your ears redden. 

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.” 

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”  

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next? 

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket. 

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you. 

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.” 

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.” 

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways. 

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression. 

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows. 

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence. 

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.” 

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after. 

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in. 

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face. 

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked. 

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears. 

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.” 

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness. 

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands. 

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.” 

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here. 

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office. 

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in. 

“Come in.” 

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up. 

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.” 

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you. 

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked. 

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.” 

                                                         _______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone. 

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him. 

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.” 

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table. 

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside. 

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder. 

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?” 

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid. 

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up. 

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out. 

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss. 

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing. 

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought. 

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you. 

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up. 

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought. 

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table. 

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water. 

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you. 

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive. 

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm. 

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name? 

“Y/n!” 

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled. 

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.” 

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?  

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others. 

Huh? Was this water? 

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.” 

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee. 

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer. 

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen? 

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said. 

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down. 

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.” 

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth. 

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.” 

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said. 

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder. 

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared. 

You dizzily nodded. 

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced. 

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?” 

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen. 

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down. 

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah —  I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?” 

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone. 

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.   

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off. 

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable. 

“Y/n.” 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.” 

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep. 

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building? 

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV. 

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times. 

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck. 

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s. 

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added. 

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you. 

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?” 

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought. 

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone. 

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message. 

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

[theartofdreaming1]

Here is my attempt at portraying Peeta’s camouflage skills convincingly 😅😅

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 19-21 are below the cut.

heart

While I love all the banter between Katniss and Peeta, I think my favorite of these three chapters is: “Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this,” I say. “Although for all I know, I am killing you.” “Can you speed it up a little?” he asks. “No. Shut up and eat your pears,” I say. A classic 😄

mind

I always imagined that Cato went after Thresh before coming for Katniss and Peeta because a) Thresh took the backpack for District 2 (which contained the body armor that would make dealing with Katniss’s arrow so much easier) and b) Thresh killed Clove and Cato wanted to avenge her... Although I have no idea how Cato ended up killing Thresh... he was doing pretty well for himself in his grass-y area... Maybe the Gamemakers wanted to punish Thresh for not killing Katniss and generated that thunderstorm and rain to force Thresh out of his refuge, which would give Cato a fair chance to kill him, I guess...

soul

Lol, honestly, since Peeta just generally seems to be motivated by kindness and love/caring, I don’t think it took much for him to keep the star-crossed lovers angle alive (I could easily imagine him actually noticing Katniss in the willow tree early in the Games and offering to take care of the District 8 girl, so the Careers would get the hell out of there, away from Katniss)

Chapter 19:

Peeta, who’s been wounded, is now my ally. [...] I’d loathe any tribute who didn’t immediately ally with their district partner. Besides, it just makes sense to protect each other. - Honestly, this just highlights what a kind person Katniss is, despite her aloof front; her innermost instinct is always to stick together and to protect. Because it doesn’t really make sense for her to team up with Peeta - she knows he’s wounded and won’t be of much help to her, her chances of survival are way better if she stayed on her own, but it’s not something she’d ever consider now that they are allowed to form a team (and only then does she even factor in the whole ‘star-crossed lovers of district 12′ -angle)

Peeta, it turns out, has never been a danger to me. The thought makes me smile. - Aww 😊 (but also, how heart-breaking that the Capitol will do everything in their power to change that, to make Peeta become a danger to Katniss 😢)

He’s very hard to predict, which might be interesting under different circumstances - Okay, but this just makes me think of that exchange in Gilmore Girls when Paris and Rory talk about how you know a guy is right for you:  “Someone who’s compatible but not compatible.” “Yeah, kind of. I mean, you respect each other’s opinions and you can laugh at the same jokes, but I don’t know – there’s just something about not quite knowing what the other person’s gonna do at all times that’s just really exciting.” - fits these two to a T 😏

In fact, I’ve just about decided I’m on the wrong track entirely, that a wounded boy would be unable to navigate getting to and from this water source, when I see the bloody streak - Okay, but how flipping tough is Peeta?! He’s severely injured, with multiple tracker jacker stings and he drags himself to this terrain that is almost impossible to navigate for someone in his condition - a sturdy dandelion, indeed!

“You’re here to finish me off, sweetheart?” - What an entrance after having gone AWOL for quite a couple of chapters 👌🏼👏🏼

“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” I jerk my head back but end up laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” [...] “Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words “How about that kiss?” I burst out laughing - He’s lying in a river bed, slowly dying, and he can still make her laugh 😊

“You know, you’re kind of squeamish for such a lethal person” - It’s such a small comment, but I can’t help but think that Peeta is just kind of intrigued to discover all these little idiosyncrasies that make up the ever-elusive Katniss Everdeen ;)

Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. -  Aww, she doesn’t even want to consider him dying, so she spontaneously decides to cut him off with a kiss👀👀 Honestly, at this point Peeta has elicited 2 (!) spontaneous kisses  (the kiss after the chariot ride and this one) from Katniss, who generally isn’t that big on touching people

“You’re not going to die. I forbid it. All right?” - Stubborn, protective Katniss... But also reminds me of their rooftop “date” in CF and the “Then you’ll allow it?” “I’ll allow it” - exchange

I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He’s great at this stuff. - KaTNisSs, gurl... 🙄🤦🏼‍♀️

Chapter 20:

But I knew he was injured. And still I came after him. I’m just going to have to trust whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one. - The very best of instincts, Katniss, don’t you worry😉

Peeta’s struggling to get up when I reach the cave. “I woke up and you were gone,” he says, “I was worried about you.” - Gah, why are the both of them so good?! They just care for and worry about each other 24/7

“How do you feel?” “Better than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud,” he says. “Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag... and you.” Oh right, the whole romance thing. - Oh Katniss...😐 I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. - Where did Peeta pick this up? From a time his family was less dysfunctional? Observing couples in the town square? Or is he a fricking disney prince and these things come natural to him? Questions, questions...

“You didn’t sleep,” Peeta says. “I’m all right,” I say. But the truth is, I’m exhausted. “Sleep now. I’ll keep watch.” [...] I test his cheek. Hot as a coal stove. He claims he’s been drinking, but the containers still feel full to me. I give him more fever pills and stand over him while he drinks first one, then a second quart of water. - These two are just too stubborn to take proper care of themselves - good thing that each of them is adamant to force the other to sleep/drink/eat when necessary

“Besides I like watching you sleep. You don’t scowl. Improves your looks a lot.” - When presented with the choice of being flirty vs being a cheeky little shit, Peeta will choose being a flirty cheeky little shit every time 😂

“I’m going to make soup,” I say. “Don’t light a fire,” he says. “It’s not worth it.” - Okay, but what he’s actually saying is “I’m not worth it” 😭😭

Katniss telling that story about buying Prim’s goat😊... A young buck, probably a yearling by his size. His antlers were just growing in, still small and coated in velvet. [...] Beautiful. - We are all very much aware of Peeta’s appreciation for beauty, but the same does apply to Katniss, too (she’s just overall more pragmatic)

“Was it [the goat] still wearing the pink ribbon?″ he asks. “I think so,” I say. “Why?” “I’m just trying to get a picture,” he says thoughtfully. -  Peeta is so detail-oriented! I have this theory that this is actually something that enables him to overcome his hijacking; we catch glimpses in MJ of how he inches himself out of his condition by asking/focusing on small details or things most people would dismiss as trivial (Katniss’s favorite color, the color of her dress visiting District 7, her Dad singing the Hanging Tree when Peeta was 6 or 7 years old...) and I feel like it makes a lot of sense - his tormentors in the Capitol either wouldn’t have access to distort these moments or not even consider them to have any significance (since they are all about big, flashy gestures in the Capitol), so these memories would remain untouched. Luckily, Peeta seems to live by Robert Brault’s words: “Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things. “

“Really? What did you cost me again?” I ask. “A lot of trouble. Don’t worry. You’ll get it all back,” he says. - Well, he’s going to cost her a lot more trouble in the future - but we know he’s going to make up for it and bring her much happiness, too 😊

“You’re not risking your life for me.” “Who said I was?” I say. [...] “Of course I’m not going.” [...] “You’re such a bad liar, Karniss.” [...] Anger flushes my face. “All right, I am going, and you can’t stop me!” “I can follow you. At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I’m yelling your name I bet someone can find me. And then I’ll be dead for sure,” he says. - Soo.. their love language is offering to sacrifice their life like it’s nothing, huh?! 😳😅 

Peeta eats without complaint, even scraping out the pot to show his enthusiasm. He rambles on about how delicious it is, - lol, sounds like a husband trying to get back on his wife’s good side after they had a row 😂

I clamp my hand over his mouth and nose hard, forcing him to swallow instead of spit. He tries to make himself vomit the stuff up, but it’s too late, he’s already losing consciousness. - Ah, the most important indicator of true love: having person A force-feed person B a sedative so they can run off to get them life-saving medicine ;)

Chapter 21:

I lie next to Peeta in the bag, trying to absorb every bit of his fever heat. It’s strange to be so physically close to someone who’s so distant. Peeta might as well be back in the Capitol, - Reminds me how in MJ she’s going to be so close to Peeta (mentally/emotionally) while he will be physically so distant (in the Capitol!)

a tiny orange one [backpack] [...] that must be marked with a 12 - Interesting how that backpack is orange, huh? Why is that? Are smaller backpacks generally orange (like the one Katniss already has) to be more visible or is this simply to connect the backpack to Peeta (though we don’t know his favorite color at this point)? Do the Gamemakers care whether Katniss gets a matching backpack? It just seems like an unnecessary detail to throw in🤔

The table has just clicked into place when a figure darts out of the Cornucopia, snags the green backpack, and speeds off. Foxface! - Honestly, this was a truly brilliant move; kudos! 👏🏼

[Clove] carefully selects an almost dainty-looking number [knife] with a cruel, curved blade. “I promised Cato if he let me have you, I’d give the audience a good show.” [...] “I think...” she almost purrs. “I think we’ll start with your mouth.” [...] she teasingly traces the outline of my lips with the tip of the blade. - Okay, but the idea of Clove cutting off Katniss’s lips is just all kinds of terrifying and disturbing 😨

“No! No, I-” Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh’s hand [...] Thresh brings the rock down hard against Clove’s temple. [...] and I know she’s a goner. - Interesting how Katniss describes that rock that basically saves her life (or at least kills her assailant) as bread-sized, huh? “Your district... they sent me bread. [...] Conflicting emotions cross Thresh’s face. He lowers the rock and points at me, almost accusingly. “Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl.” - Katniss mentions the bread from District 11 as a proof of her alliance with Rue (and the recognition of D11) and Thresh spares her; bread keeps saving her life (while it keeps representing acts of kindness)

Cato kneels beside Clove, spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. - I appreciate this small, humanizing moment with Cato

The last thing I remember is an exquisitely beautiful green and silver moth landing on the curve of my wrist. - I don’t know much about North American insects (not that I know that much about European insects either - just recently came across a relatively rare moth on my walks that I had never seen or heard of before) - is Katniss describing a special/noteworthy species of moth? Or is this a more literary symbolism kind of moth? (Just looked up some symbolism meaning of moths: change/transformation, seeking light; power of regeneration in some Native American mythology, hmm...)

[breitzbachbea]

The Hetalia "Cell Block Tango" AU/Scenario

This idea left my brain last saturday and, as usual, has already completely spun out of control two days later. Much thanks to Riva (@fireandiceland) for their open ear and grandiose input, all of the following bullshit would not have been possible without them.

This is essentially an update to this post about a "Cell Block Tango" Performance for Hetalia ships that at some point could be construed as partner exercising foreign rule over the other. We've talked about it as a show that the countries put on for fun, so it's not really an AU. We're here to be horny and have fun, not to be dramatic and edgy, okay. (Or at least not "actual murder" dramatic).

Here's the list of the couples and their corresponding parts that we settled on. (I'll use the names of the characters from "Chicago" & their iconic little cue).

Liz/Pop - SuFin, with Tino as Liz. The ship was Riva's suggestion and I like them for this part not only because the triviality of the murder motive suits their domestic vibe, but the violent solution fits Tino's wilder/more darker side that sleeps under that friendly exterior.

Annie/Six - Spamano, with Lovino as Annie. Look, Riva agreed that loose lover Antonio seems plausible, I think poisoning is a good way to murder for Lovino and I also. Really. Just love the image of the "deathkiss" and then Lovino kicking Antonio two meters across the stage. And I am sure that Antonio feels the same way as I do.

June/Squish - DenNor, with Lukas as June. I mostly settled on them because I can see Matthias be somewhat possessive and I can see him thoroughly excited for the choreography. (Maybe also for the fact that he gets to wear no shirt). Riva also said that the scenario itself and the ambiguity about whether or not June actually cheated meshes well with Lukas' more elusive nature.

Hunyak/Uh-Uh - LietBel, with Natalya as Hunyak. (Natalya? Natasha? I'm sorry if I misremembered her name, use whatever floats your boat). We both agreed that we needed Natalya in this, but I couldn't quite find a ship with her quickly that worked well with my original definition of Empire/Territory. Giving her Hunyak's innocent part solves that problem, subverts her often arguably pretty meh canon/fanon interpretations and she gets to have a beautiful dance number with Toris. Toris, who is just really happy for his girlfriend and resigned between the hotblooded, horny chaos that is the rest :).

Velma/Cicero - TurGre, with Herakles as Velma. I thought the cheating situation suited them, as I have a weakness for Herakles being Sadık's favourite, but certainly not only bedfellow at all times and the intensity of the rage is one Herakles well-deserves (if only for show these days). Plus, their performance required a third person and lemme tell you, they do not lack options in my brain. I considered Mohammed (Egypt) at first, but then thought he'd probably politely decline but would surely love to watch the show for "moral support". So instead I went for my Sicily OC Michele as Veronica, because mom said it's my turn on the self-indulgence machine.

Mona/Lipschitz - AusHun, with Erzsébet as Mona. I was sold at the "a real artistic guy, sensitive" part (even though Roderich is rather a musician than a painter) and Riva pointed out that the cheating also could be a great reference to the Habsburg marriage politics.

Further Thoughts (& Thots) for this under the cut, because I knew if I had this post uncut on my dash, I'd murder someone too:

- Mads is really excited about the choreography until he realizes that he has to basically throw half a bridge and hold it for most of Natalya's part. Mads: "Oh. So I gotta keep this up for the whole number now?" Lukas: "Quit whining ..." One of the others: "What, is the viking already folding?" Mads: "Pfft, as if, no problem for me!" He looks up at Lukas. "Besides, the view from down here isn't that bad either." Lukas threateningly lifts his foot with dangerously high-heeled boot. Mads: 'Don't say Step on me, don't say Step on me, don't say - Ah crap, I already did, didn't I?' Practice has to be paused and Natalya chews them out for ruining her practice!

- As Riva put it and I then expanded upon:

How we imagine Hetalia Cell Block Tango: Intriguing, dark, erotic.

How it actually is: Antonio, Mathias, Berwald, Sadık about to cream their pants while Lovino, Lukas, Tino, Herakles live their dreams. Natalya fighting everyone who makes a single wrong step during her part of the performance, Toris trying to calm her down. Erzsébet pulling Roderich off stage to do a private tango. Ex-Imperial dick measuring contests between Antonio, Sadık and Roderich, although the latter of course tries to not to get dragged into any thing so undignified. However, there are still ties with Antonio and also, a bitch (Roderich) may not start a fight, but a bitch is sure going to end one! Or at least attempt to do so. Endless South Italian Bickering, because Lovino and Michele may get on marginally better than Lovino does with Feliciano, but unlike Feli, Michè pays back in kind.

- Here's my two cents on the nature of the horniness of the "murdered lovers": Antonio and Sadık are unapologetically gawking and can't imagine anything better than being 'mistreated' by their darling. Being kicked across, shoved nearly off the stage is part of the fun and they don't hide it. Rest in rip everyone else who has to witness this. Matthias tries to half-heartedly hide how turned on he his, but as we saw above, he isn't very good at it. Maybe it also just looks like he's trying to hide it because he is North European after all, so it looks tame next to the two other horndogs. Berwald's extremely flustered, which is either clear as daylight to everyone around him or he tries so hard to stay 'professional' that his hands shake and he can barely talk. (Which I'd personally find hilarious when contrasted with Antonio one number over). Roderich acts as if he isn't as affected, but his façade also cracks often enough. He's got it just as bad as everyone else for his Erzsì, but he doesn't want to show it in front of other people.

- I also wrote a Minific yesterday, mostly concerned with Michele being asked to participate & some bitching between him and Lovino. If I find the time, I'll clean it up tonight and post it some time.

That's it! Thank you for reading and if you any additions, I would love to hear it (and I am sure Riva would love so, too!). I'd also love it if you wanted to share any fanart, fanfic or anything else based on this - even if you just take the basic premise and change things from how I described them because you think something else works better for you.

[msfett]

✨ Chapter 2: Point of Convergence

*-/ When light meets and interacts with matter, it can do one of several things depending on what kind of matter it encounters \-* 

Boba Fett x F!Reader

Timeline: Starts off with younger Boba (like pre-A New Hope)

Rating: 18+ only 

C/W: Explicit Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

Some Stuff 😊 Major shout out to @ceapa-mica for creating this lovely cover art! Thank y’all for coming along on this journey. I’d be incredibly grateful to know how this reads for you, so if you have a moment, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🥰 Come say hello if you like what’s below! If you prefer AO3 (msfett_ifyourenasty), this series is cross-posted there. If you're enjoying this fic, please feel free to reblog and share 💕

🎶 Musical Motivation/Lyrical Inspiration: Tigerlily by La Roux 

**********************

A duo of Kowakian monkey-lizards frantical skitter to corners of the room at the unexpected intrusion.

“Ahh, Boba! You have impeccable timing. It has been too long since you visited with old Hondo on Florrum. You look fantastic, my friend! New dent? Don’t tell me,” the Weequay holds his chin, pondering. “No, that was definitely there before. Well, since you have already invited yourself in, would you care for a refreshing beverage after your travels?”

“This is not a social call, Ohnaka,” Boba’s voice is flat, expressionless.

The pirate is unfazed. “You remind me so much of your father. All business, that one. You are the spitting image of him! Well, naturally you are the spitting image since you are a clo—"

“Ohnaka." Boba cuts off the Weequay, in no mood for his chatter. “What have you learned?”

Hondo presses a panel closing the office door, unusually serious, his voice hushed. “After this conversation, we will never speak of her again. Do you hear me? I want nothing to do with this.”

The Weequay clears his throat, nervously stalling. “You have discovered a very interesting woman, and I tell you, there are not that many interesting women left in this galaxy. Trust old Hondo on that.”

“Get to the point.” Boba stiffens with annoyance.

“Ok, my impatient young friend. This was no simple task. The only thing I had to go off of was that recording from your heads up display. You are lucky I have buddies in the bacta business on Thyferra,” he remarks, pleased with himself. “So after greasing a few palms, I was able to acquire some footage from the central security network.”

Boba is motionless, an impassive statue in contrast to Hondo’s expressive animation.

“What appears to be your mystery woman, boarded a modified YT-1760 that night. Now, here is where it gets interesting,” Hondo quiets for effect. “The transponder code from the ship lists what I presume is an alias for her, because that person is long dead.”

The pirate is hesitant, but continues on. “Your elusive lady turns up…nothing. No chain code. No docucard, identichip, passpad. Nothing. Which begs the question, what if she is nothing? Hmm? No-one?”

“Speak clearly. I’m paying you for answers, not riddles.” Boba bristles at Hondo’s roundabout prattling.

“This is why critical thinking skills are so important.” Hondo taps his helmet for emphasis. “So after putting one and one and three together, I have come to the conclusion that your mystery lady only looks like she does not exist. And for good reason too. These days it is nearly impossible to go anywhere without some form of identification. But there is one organization that could provide that level of far-reaching anonymity.”

“Go on.”

Already sensing Boba’s skepticism, Hondo exhales a puff of air. “Now, hear me out. The Bothan SpyNet has been around for hundreds of years. They have agents in every corner of the galaxy. It is said that a long time ago they established an elite faction of untraceables, agents that were continuously scrubbed clean of any information. No past, no future. No-one. Blank slates.”

“What are you getting at?” Boba tires of the pirate’s flowery rhetoric.

“My dear Boba, you have stumbled upon a Shadow Geist.” Hondo declares before tenting his fingers in front of his mouth.

Boba scoffs at the pirate’s conclusion. “Impossible. Those are just old spacer stories.”

“Improbable, yes. But impossible? There are many things in this galaxy that we cannot explain.” Hondo’s facial expressions become animated. “Just imagine being invisible, no one knowing who you really are. All the adventures you could get away with!”

“But, as you have demonstrated,” his enthusiasm vanishing, “one cannot go undetected forever. I would suspect most Shadow Geist are eventually discovered, and you know, that kind of ends the whole secretive thing. Very sneaky, those Bothans. My kind of people.”

Boba’s agitation escalates, his brow furrowing into a scowl. “That’s it? You have nothing aside from a theory based on a myth?”

“Another correct set of statements from an intelligent man!” Hondo asserts with a toothy grin that quickly disappears at Boba’s stoicism. “It is more than you would get from most. Ah Boba, do not be so frustrated. You will get frown lines and those are very hard to get rid of,” he assures, patting the less intimidated Kowakian monkey-lizard. “Is that not right?” the Weequay coos to the creature.

Boba’s stare is intense, enough for Hondo to grow uncomfortable in the silence of his own office.

“Listen, old Hondo may not have all the answers, but I do have something that could be profitable for us both.”

“How much?”

“I will send you the total bill,” he replies happily, the monkey-lizard jumping on his shoulder with a shrill cackle. “There are only so many functional Corellian 1760s flying around out there. The maintenance requirements on those things are such a headache. The newer models really are much better.”

“Stop rambling.”

Unruffled by Boba, he continues. “Her ship must have several transponder codes. It is quite challenging to track all of the multiple identities, but I have successfully narrowed down the possibilities of potential landing sites to around 700 different spaceports. Give or take.” The Weequay attempts to hand over the datachip.

Boba remains still, hands curled into fists at his sides. “Figure it out. I want to count the number of possible ports on one hand. You have three rotations. Put it on my tab.”

Hondo shakes his head in disapproval, arms akimbo. “You are relentless, but that does not make you sensible.” He removes one hand and points a finger at Boba in a scolding gesture. “You need to understand, this is a bad idea. Whoever she is, she is not meant to be found. Do you not comprehend her value? They will protect her at all cost. That means you and me are disposable for ever knowing anything. The last thing I need is another death threat.”

“You haven’t mentioned the saber. Or the other strange…interactions,” a hostile bitterness emerging from Boba’s words.

Hondo sighs, pinching the bridge of his leathered nose. “That only complicates matters more.” The pirate’s tone mellows considerably. “Let her be, Boba. Do not go chasing after a ghost. She is worth a lot to the people she serves.”

Provoked, Boba spits the words. “Who does she serve? Is it them?”

Hondo presses his hands together, fingers pointed up, a prayer to appease the angered hunter. “Whatever enduring grudge you hold or retaliatory vengeance you seek, I humbly ask you to let it go. Why are you doing this? What do you hope to accomplish?” he treads lightly. “Just because she had that purple glowy thing does not make her responsible in any way for your father’s death. She may not even be a Jedi. Whatever you do, it will not change past. Do not pretend I do not know what you are thinking, Boba.”

“You’ve gone soft in your old age, Ohnaka,” Boba gravels out.

“That is one point of view. But I am also wiser. You, however, are still as stubborn as ever. And you are getting into things you know nothing about and have no business in. You do not want to mess with these people. Mark my words, I do not foresee a happy ending. She may very well be the death of you.” Hondo worries aloud, “Not to mention me.”

Boba plunks down a canister of spice from his pocket.

Hondo eyes the cylinder. “You know me too well. Trade goods trump hard currency any day. Pure Karrak? That’s 80 credits for a single dose. A steep transaction.”

“There’s more where that came from.” Boba watches as the Weequay considers.

“You know this stuff only works for about 48 hours on those Force people?” Hondo holds the container up to light, tilting it.

“That may be all I need.”

“Fine. I will help you. But this is it. Nothing more. And do not say old Hondo never tried to warn you. Since you are hells bent on finding her, allow me to put my two chits in, free of charge of course. If you actually find her, I would recommend doing one of two things.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Either befriend her, as she could be a powerful ally. Or eliminate her, as she could be an even more powerful adversary.”

“I don’t make friends.”

Boba turns, determination in his step, leaving Hondo in a state of irritated confusion.

The Weequay throws his hands up. “Ohhh can’t you for once take the advice of an old pirate? Having friends is not a bad thing. Friends can help! Like what I am doing right now! Boba?”

Hondo run-walks towards the corridor where Boba is already halfway down and sticks his head around the door jam. “Boba! You never know when a friend might come in handy!”

“Especially one like this,” Hondo mutters.

**********************

At times it feels preferable to be swallowed up by a big city, mixing into an unknown concoction of denizens, allowing for a smooth blending with little effort. It seems no matter what part of the planetary rotation, every passerby is far more concerned with their own agenda under neon-laden lights.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” he rushes, placing a hand on your arm. “I was just informed. Change of plan?”

“You could say that,” you assert. He taps the side of his helmet, the shield lifting up to reveal twinkling green eyes.

His hand drops to yours, clasping it firmly, the appearance of a couple holding hands instead of two agents passing a mem-stik. The corners of his eyes crease into smile lines. “Well done. I look forward to the intriguing tale some time,” he comments with a wink.

“Don’t suppose you’d like a shortened version right now?” you ask lifting an eyebrow, insinuating something else.

His smile lines deepen mischievously. “I would love nothing more than for you to regale me with your story,” he shamelessly flirts, giving your hand a meaningful squeeze, “but this is not the place. Too much recent activity here.” His eyes flick through the throngs of people busy in the streets. “Be careful.”

“Something’s felt off. I can’t place it though.” The caution of a suspicious tapping has nagged you since docking.

“Your intuition likely serves you better than anything I could divulge.” The city is noisy, the multitude of conversations drowning out his stream of thought, and you only catch disconnected snippets. Regardless, he’s a hard read after years of a silent mind as a safety measure.

He gives you one last squeeze before releasing his gloved hand from yours, the new leather briefly sticking to his in protest. “Seems like those need a proper wearing in.”

“Don’t. Just…don’t.” The wound on your palm burns at the recollection.

The lines around his eyes soften. “Take care, darling.” And he means it, not patronizing you with the term of endearment.

Walking off in opposite directions, flashing signs tempt you, striking the desire to hide in plain site. Just one drink.

**********************

Claustrophobic as the crowded club is, you feel a certain freedom in not having to slink around. The young and rich have a tendency to be self-centered, more concerned about their own status and ignoring those deemed unimportant. Grateful for this, you sidle up to the bar unnoticed.

Well, almost. “Hi!” Competing with the speakers, it’s a shout more than a salutation.

He’s cute with a boyish charm, a certain naïveté in the face of excess.

You acknowledge him with a nod, swiveling your attention back to the bartender, attempting to enjoy a shot before making yourself scarce again.

“May I buy you a drink?”

And he’s polite, sweet, almost concerned that he could be pestering you.

“Blue Tonic.”

Just one drink, you remind yourself, clinking your glass with his as you toss back the azure liquor from under the mask.

**********************

Though you kept the promise of a one drink maximum, you find it more challenging to deny another outlet for pent-up frustration.

The hotel room is extravagant, a bit unexpected for the nice young man, but you recognize the initial flexing of inherited wealth; a pile of spice scattered over a mirror on the nightstand, a freshly opened bottle of expensive champagne immersed in melting ice.

You’re ignoring the comlink that has been steadily pinging for attention. Better make this quick.

As you undress, he motions to the gloves and mask, looking disheartened. “You’re, uh, going to keep those on?”

You wink at him, conveying a coy smile with your eyes, hopefully a temporary pacification. You gently push him back onto the ornate duvet, crawling up to straddle your hips over his. Your knees sink into the plush mattress, easing him in…

But the comlink is incessant, now a continuous stream of urgent beeps.

You heave a frustrated sigh. Not this quick though.

“Sorry,” a weak apology as you hinge forward, firmly placing your fingertips against the man’s forehead. Before he can react, his eyelids lower, hands slacken and fall down your outer thighs to the bed, a light snore replacing any gratifying noises.

The insistent device obediently moves to your outstretched hand. “What,” you practically hiss.

“Now, now 401. That’s a rude manner in which to answer. Especially when someone is simply trying to alert you to pertinent information for the benefit of your safety,” he chastises. Then a pause. “What are you doing? You sound quite huffy.”

“Nothing that you would approve of, 315,” you imply.

“Oh dear,” he comprehends, mortified. “Oh my. No I-I, I don’t want to know. Why did you even answer?”

“Why did you keep calling?” You feel just as frustrated as he feels awkward.

“Well. Well,” he’s more than flustered. “Believe it or not, I worry about you, and I have some important intel. Oh, gods, just call me back when you’re…finished. As soon as reasonably possible that is. And, umm, you know what to do to him…or her…after,” he struggles. “You know what I’m trying to say. 315 out.”

You’re already tossing the comm. “Nooo,” you whine, glancing down. “Every time,” you grumble, giving up on any sort of fulfillment. Deflated, you sit back on your heels and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

The process of redressing is tedious, ensuring all your equipment is in the correct place. Everything is still deactivated, a result of your original intention, but you’ll deal with it prior to entering the hyperspace lane. It’ll be fine. You’re only a short walk to the docking bay.

The bottle of Daruvvian champagne catches your eye, and knowing the drink will be flat by morning, you choose not to let it go to waste. Consultation prize. You slide the metalweave away from your mouth and take a swig from the bottle, enjoying how the tiny bubbles effervesce across your palate.

Sauntering back to the bed, you feel the sting of jealousy in seeing the man sleeping, blissfully unaware. Leaning close to his ear, you place a hand on his brow, whispering a phrase that has become innately routine, a lasting lullaby.

“What you have seen, must be forgotten. You cannot remember that which does not exist.”

The first time you’d performed it, you’d been frightened by the inherent darkness of the practice. How easy it had been to take away something so intimate as a memory.

You’d tapped into…power, an immediate surge of undeniable strength.

But the time that followed assured you altering someone’s mind was not without cost. You’d felt spent despite the ease with which you’d summoned the action. An unshakable cold blanketed you, like being trapped under layers of snow that even blazing binary suns could not thaw.

It was not the first dark taste of the sweetness of Seduction, but this time it lingered on your lips, promising more if you would only yield to it. Seduction was a greedy lover, whispering desires you didn’t even know you wanted until you were gasping, pleading for it; wrapping you in the deceitful warmth of its arms, luring you to believe it would melt the icy fingers gripping you.

But Seduction was an excellent liar, and you knew that Truth would not pretend, not make you this supposedly comfortable. Truth would be steadfast, and though it would challenge, it would not waver, not give in to the dishonesty of Seduction.

And you sat with both. Seduction selfishly yanked at you, snagging for scraps to pull you apart, while Truth was content to hold you in place, keep you together as one. That’s all you had ever wanted. Stability, a sense of steadfast security.

Truth prevailed, and though Seduction would sneak back with wicked offers of temptation, twist you to caress your face, Truth promised you a future.

A balance could be made, a brilliant duality, like the moment of dawn between the darkness and the light. Actively wielding a flame to protect balance, undulating but never extinguishing.

The ultimate achievement of balance, bending without breaking.

So again you allow for that bend, submerging the sleeping man’s memory, blotting away the traces of lingering thoughts until he couldn’t even identify you as a passing dream.

Leaving him with a final influence you murmur, “You will get rid of the leftover spice.” You begin to withdraw your hand, but then feel something else tug. “You will also call your mother tomorrow. She misses you.” Such unconditional love, a foreign language you were never fully schooled in.

The neck of the bottle is collecting condensation, another slight slip as you bring it to your lips. You motion towards the control panel, and on command the door opens, lights turning off as you exit the room.

**********************

Rounding into the docking bay, there is an eerie silence compared to the cacophony of the entertainment district. Generalized unease abruptly transforms into an intense, focal spasm, a sharp prick, numbing as it descends.

You hear the glass bottle shatter before you can feel it slipping away, its contents splashing in your face, soaking through the mask as you collapse to your knees. Shards of glass embed through the worn material and once again your gloves become a victim, stabbed by broken fragments. Your eyes passively fix on the floor as crimson blood combines with amber champagne, congealing to form a strangely fascinating convergence of contrasting liquids.

An intensifying dullness saturates your senses, but you’re able to discern the faint sound of a slow, evenly paced jangling increasing in volume. There is a deliberate scuff, as if leisurely strolling, kicking gravel along. And then it stops, halting in front of your compromised position as the thrumming of your pulse replaces the pitched clanging.

Each breath is a fierce struggle, like your respiratory muscles are failing their automatic function. You push against the ground, into the pain, glass piercing farther, righting yourself as you kneel before the silent figure. You willfully conjure the strength to lift your head, fizzing liquid dripping from your face as you raise your chin up, up, up to meet the vacant gaze of a T-shaped visor. Your vision is already tunneling, the periphery fading, recognition devolving. The butt of a blaster rifle materializes, striking your temple. Warm droplets stream, merge, and you are forced to submit, an unwilling coercion into invasive darkness.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

NSFW Alphabet [Trafalgar Law] Complete Set

·         A = Aftercare

Law will insist you clean-up and go to the bathroom to prevent infections. Exhausted? You are, but he’s a doctor. And he knows what’s best for his S/O. As tedious and uncomfortable as it is to move – let’s face it, he just screwed your brains out – he will order you out of bed to do this task, but he too has to clean up, so he will do most of it for you and for himself as you happily lean against him.

Once he’s done, he’ll lead you back to the bed and tuck you in. Sometimes he’ll crash with you, but most of the time he has work to do and will make sure you’re contented before he leaves you; getting you some water to drink for example. He is a captain after all, but you know this.

·         B = Body part

His favorite part is of course his hands, and for you it’s the same. He finds enjoyment in the fact he can make you come so undone with just a push of a finger. The avid way your body takes him is a turn on and he takes great pride in hearing you beg for more – men and their pride, right? The inked letters on his fingers look so delicious as they sink into you; he almost can’t believe how perfect this feels and how warm you are.

You love his hands, not for the same reason, but because he’s gentle and considerably skilled with them; the tattoos are a bonus, because damn do you worship them. Whether he’s performing surgery or using his hands to activate his Devil Fruit, it’s a major turn on for you. Of course, there are other parts of Law you adore too – his sharp eyes and taunting mouth – but overall, his hands turn you on the most.  

·         C = Cum

Law doesn’t understand your fascination with his cum – it’s a mess to clean – but he doesn’t mind covering your face or filling your mouth if you ask. It’s warm and tastes decent, because he eats well, and you love it. He can’t deny how good it makes him feel to see you so worked up over something he considers irrelevant – he doesn’t plan to have kids with his profession; too dangerous. But if you love it, then good for you. Just don’t ask him to cum inside you. Nope!

“Cum can reduce wrinkles and smooth the skin.”

Why does he bothering arguing with you?

·         D = Dirty Secret

Law won’t admit it, or bring it up, due to it being so embarrassing, but he’s often fantasized about what it would be like to cut you apart with his Devil Fruit ability and fuck you senseless. He’s not even sure it can be done, but dreaming about your detached head watching him as he screws your body turns him on. Won’t happen though, because he’s too much of a prude to suggest it.

·         E = Experience

He may be a doctor; an expert on anatomy, but Law doesn’t have much experience with sex. The first time he had sex, it was based off instinct alone. Fill the hole, right? Can’t be too hard. It was … all right, he reckoned.

You made it better. He learned what made you come undone, and even learned a few things about himself. This didn’t turn him into a slut, but he began to enjoy it more. There’s still a lot he has to learn, but he knows more than before.  

·         F = Favorite position

Missionary, obviously. He doesn’t know much else, but on occasion, Law will let you ride him. This is better achieved in his desk chair, as you have no choice but to be on top. He doesn’t like not being in charge and he has no problem reminding you.

“Let me ride you. Sit down.”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t order me around. You won’t leave this bed for a week.”

·         G = Goofy

Not likely, Sunshine. Law is a serious character. You’ve only seen him act out of character around Kid or Luffy – something about these two brings out the dweeb in him; testosterone, you assume. Not much changes in bed. He’s a bit more domineering, ordering that you get on your knees, and sometimes you think he’s a bit of a sadist; he makes you beg quite a bit before he fucks you.

Afterwards, he’s rather gentle with you. He’s a doctor, remember?  

·         H = Hair

Pirates seldom groom or bathe for that matter, but Law manages to find time to freshen up when he can. Hygiene is important to him; he’s the sub’s only doctor. He changes outfits frequently and trims his goatee and sideburns – pubic hairs too; black as the hair on his head – when they grow out of control.    

·         I = Intimacy

Depends on him. He’s a calm and collected man; things don’t normally bother him unless his plans are ruined or he’s around Kid and Luffy. This being said, he’s eager to please you; he’ll give you sweet kisses and such. But, if he’s annoyed and in the mood, you can expect some sore muscles and a lot of orgasms.

“Remind me to thank Kid later. Or punch him in the face.”

·         J = Jack Off

Law has you, but not all the time can he just stop what he’s doing and find you, so he has to use his hand. Trust me, he imagines fucking you; can even hear your voice as you beg and praise him. Masturbating isn’t as pleasing, but it works for him.    

·         K = Kink

Begging and orgasm control; Law is a simple man.

·         L = Location

His room mostly, but Law will sometimes lead you to the operation room on the Polar Tang and wreck you on the operation table. But there was that one time on the Sunny.

·         M = Motivation

Your devotion and suggestive nature motivate him; the subtle and eager method you use to instigate sex does the trick, but sometimes Law is just aroused. Your body is great, but just being near you turns him on; he’s just too stubborn to tell you.

·         N = NO

Harming you is never something he’d agree to – as well as shooting his cum into you. Golden showers are also a no; it’s nasty and he’d never agree to it.

·         O = Oral

He prefers to receive rather than give, because he’s not too skilled in oral. However, he will make an attempt if you ask. You’re vocal during sex and if given oral, you tend to guide him when he’s falling short of expectation. Law doesn’t like this much – due to hating orders – but he does it for you.

“I don’t mind at all not receiving; I happen to like your cock.”

·         P = Pace

Slow at first, because he likes to draw out your moans and make you beg for more, and once you do, his pace quickens until your breathless and horsed. You have mentioned before how the first hard thrust drives you insane, so sometimes Law shoves his cock into you roughly; damn do you tighten around him when he does this.

·         Q = Quickie

Sometimes quickies are all either of you have time for. Law doesn’t openly ask for them, but he will motion away from the crew when he’s in the mood and fuck you against the wall or in a secluded room inside the sub.

·         R = Risk

Unless it’s agreed on or planned out, he won’t risk it. He’s a simple lover, so there’s not a lot he’d be eager to try unless you mention it first. The process is too lengthy at times; consequence and plans to prevent either of you from getting hurt.

·         S = Stamina

Law can fuck, but he needs breaks. His stamina is average. You don’t mind, however, because during this down time he’s gentle and intimate with you.

·         T = Toy

Not gonna happen. Why? Because he doesn’t have time for foreplay; perhaps once he finds the One Piece. Sex toys are also not the easiest items to come across – more elusive than Devil Fruits.

·         U = Unfair

Besides making you beg for him; Law can be unfair at times. He’s a tool so sometimes – quickies generally – he gets off and doesn’t do the same for you. Now when he has time, Law will make it up to you; he’s not a complete asshole. He just doesn’t know how to manage his time well.

·         V = Volume

The occasional curse and grunt are about the only noises he will make, other than urging you to beg for him. You make enough noise for the both of you.

·         W = Wild Card

He likes to see you in his clothes; his yellow hoodie looks good on you, but he’s extremely greedy and won’t let you wear them in front of others. His hat is another story; not in a million years. It’s his and he’s not sharing.

·         X = X-Ray

Law is average. It’s skinner than most you’ve seen, but you don’t mind; he’s a thin man.

·         Y = Yearning

You yearn for sex more than Law, but sometimes he needs a release. He’s a busy man and sex is usually the last thing on his mind.

·         Z = ZZZ

Law is an insomniac – look at the shadows under his eyes.  He’s much too busy to sleep and even after sex he returns to his role as captain and doctor of the Heart Pirates. You have to sometimes convince him to come to bed, and sometimes he will.

[a-froger-epic]

Dear fellow Queen fanatics! OTP romantics, non-and multi-shippers! Gritty realists and fantasy lovers!

I am very excited to bring you this special event hosted by yours truly, on the weekend of the 5th to the 7th of June. 

Our fandom is made up of people all around the world, of all ages, with different life stories, different points of view, different preferences and different opinions - BUT! There is ONE thing we all have in common.

Our love for Freddie Mercury and Queen. 🤴🏻

Freddie’s life and work inspires and motivates us, breaks our hearts and brings us joy. And yet, Freddie-centric stories and especially Freddie POV is not as plentiful as one would think. There's a lot of different reasons for that! Being such an incredibly multi-layered character, he can be elusive and difficult to write. And at the same time, there is an expectation to “get it right” which can be a bit daunting.

Well, I say, let’s take a leaf out of Freddie’s book, be brave and have a Freddie-centric event!

I want to bring the fandom together in a positive and fun way to celebrate what none of us can argue about. We ALL adore and are inspired by Freddie Mercury in our own, individual ways!

This event is:

An invitation to everyone and anyone to write something specifically centred around/from the POV of Freddie Mercury!

A chance to learn things about Freddie you never knew! (see prompts)

Simply a celebration of our collective love and admiration for him! 

As we are all different, this event may produce works you will love and works that won't be for you, but to make sure that nobody feels discouraged from participating, I would not like this event to be:

An opportunity to criticise anyone's take on their favourite idol

A chance to debate whose take on Freddie is "right" or "wrong"

This event is simply about giving it a go, having fun and paying homage to a legend - together! 🤝

The Prompts

The prompts will be posted later tonight and are divided into two categories. The prompts have been posted! They are divided in two categories. Real Life and AU. The first category features a selection of lesser known anecdotes from Freddie’s life. The idea is to let them inspire you, be it the setting, the mood, a small detail in them or the actual event. There’s no wrong way to use the prompts! Or else, let your imagination take flight with the AU prompts! The most important thing is to have fun.

Rules

ALL ships are accepted! Nothing is off-limits. Want to switch it up with the prompts and go fem!Queen or A/B/O? Go for it! 

This event is not only for writers. While the fanart community already regularly produces stunning Freddie artwork, by all means, please contribute with a special! Be it painting, drawing or any type of edit.

Nervous? Don’t worry! You can also post anonymously on AO3. Here is a quick guide if you’d like to know how, courtesy of @tikiniki.

This event has a collection on AO3 - Freddie_Mercury_Weekend_2020 - which will be opened for submissions on the 5th of June and kept open for about two weeks, for those who don’t quite make the deadline! Please post your work there. If you choose to post it on Tumblr, tag #FreddieMercuryWeekend2020 and don’t forget to tag me, @a-froger-epic, so I can give it a reblog!

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to message me! I will answer them as soon as I can!

Much ❤️! And don't forget to check back for the prompt list! I'm very excited!! 😃🙌🏻

Ana (nastally on AO3)