#even though i travel frequently i don't think it's worth it

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 6)

Plans are being made. And Link is facing his demons as well as he can.

Still taking time to inch my way back to full speed. Things are getting better though and I can feel my fingers itching to write more and more. Still riding the joy of pure indulgence with a feel good favorite. I can never stop myself from rambling in this one.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

Finally back in Hateno after several weeks of long, uncomfortable (sand infested. lizalfos infested) travel along the coast (doing your standard business. gathering what supplies you could for Link), and you were ready to just slip into bed for the rest of your life. Maybe even retire early. Ensure you never have to see another damned lizalfos for as long as you live (you won't, but the thought is there).

But it was simply not to be. You'd barely crossed the gates into Hateno proper and already you were planning (reluctantly) an even longer trip into territories you'd never (well. not never. but not for long) thought to venture to. And honestly, you weren't looking forward to it.

And by the look on Skim's and Adino's faces, neither were they.

Not even a day after returning to your home village you'd broken the news to your guards that you were planning a trip towards Goron territory. Though, if you were lucky and utilized your resources wisely, you might never even have to set foot in that brimstone hellscape of a volcano (you hoped).

You'd thought once (some years ago), that maybe it would be a place you should visit. The Gorons were known to be friendly to travelers. The paths were littered with unclaimed mineral and gemstone deposits. And the infrastructure for travel was there thanks to the thriving tourism industry in the area.

It'd seemed like a wonderful idea when you'd started planning such a venture in your early days of merchanting. Back when you were still riding high from making your first small fortune and were still relatively unaware of the world at large. Of its challenges. Of its dangers.

That was until you started gathering information on the hazards in the area, and your opinion of the region took an immediate and drastic turn.

The high death rates associated with heatstroke, dehydration and smoke inhalation were concerning enough. But learning that the volcano occasionally erupted (killing dozens, even hundreds of travelers when it did), and was infested with talus' (over 40 confirmed sightings. nearly 20 unconfirmed). It was enough to put you off.

Skims and Adino knew this. You'd made it a point to explain to them why you wouldn't be heading that direction ever (but apparently not ever, because here you were. planning). No matter how much money could be made harvesting minerals or trading with the locals.

Not the produce trade though, despite what one would think coming from a land known for its lava lakes and frequent wildfires.

The volcanic soil was actually an excellent source of fertilizer (which you wanted. in bulk. as much as you could shove in your mindslate). Making the region around the volcano one of the more prosperous lands for growing crops and herbs. Even when compared to the more central settlements of Hyrule, right on the bread-belt of the land (if you were willing to risk the guardians, that is).

It was a region a farmer (and merchant) could make a fortune, if they were lucky enough to hit brown gold. And If one was willing to take staggering losses everytime the volcano blew its top. And there would be losses. There always was when mother nature got involved with the lives of mortals.

No. You had been eager to get into the fish and cloth (and sand) trade. So close to the volcano, magma deposits were unusually close to the surface in the surrounding lands. And while this created the most beautiful hotspring (entire lakes worth) tourist attractions, it also limited the amount of life-sustaining (and fish-sustaining) water sources in the area. Which, in turn, limited the number of local fisheries and livestock flocks the land could sustain.

The constant presence of ash and volcanic runoff also poisoned much of the water sources in the immediate areas around the mountian. Further adding to the lack of available water sources for fish and livestock (and people too, for that matter. Hence, the sand. A natural filtering agent for locals in the area) to live off of.

So. Fish and cloth (and sand). Those had been your plan a couple years ago. Until the reality of the territory's dangers made you reconsider. And later, dismiss the idea all together.

Knowing this, of course Skims questioned your sudden interest in the northeastern part of Hyrule. A territory you had said yourself was not worth the risk of death and revenue loss to expand your business ventures into.

You had been honest with them, of course (you were always honest with your most trusted guardsmen. when confronted, at least). Though not necessarily forthcoming with the details. Which, frankly, was par for the course as far as your more private dealings were concerned.

"I'm looking to acquire localized goods for an important client." You offered in way of an explanation, letting the things you hadn't said speak volumes. And, of course, Skims merely nodded. Still looking doubtful, but willing to accept your reasoning as your own without contest.

That was another thing you liked about him, other then his fierce loyalty and care. Easy going at the best of times, accepting at the worst. You never had to worry too much about Skims poking holes in your reasonings or explanations. You just needed to pay him, and he was willing to turn a blind eye to your eccentricities.

Adino, on the other hand.

"It's a waste of damned time no matter how important this so-called client of yours is. Just use the stable system instead of draggin' us along to that Goddess forsaken hellhole." Adino snapped, irritable still so soon after the previous trip (the bite a lizalfos nearly took out of his rear near Highland Stable not having helped his already sour attitude). Narrowing his eyes at you with suspicion.

Which was fair, honestly. In any other situation, letting the stable system deliver your desired product would have been the most efficient (and cheapest) way for such a limited and precise order. What would take several months of travel for a merchant (yourself included), the system could get delivered several weeks earlier. Maybe the same amount of time, or slightly longer than originally calculated, if the weather turned unfavorable or a blood moon cluttered up previously clear roads with monsters.

Without knowledge of your mindslate or the connection you have with Link (the previously mentioned client), it does sound like a bullshit reason to undertake such a dangerous journey out of the blue. Especially when there are safer and more cost efficient methods to achieve the same results (sort of). But the fact of the matter is that the system would not be quick enough to deliver your order before Link begun his journey towards Death Mountain.

(And it would be soon. Already there were rumors of the Zora Domain's endless rains easing at the boarders.)

Tally up the timeables, and getting the merchandise yourself was the only feasible way to get ahold of what you needed when you needed it. Where the stable system would require a two way trip to acquire your goods, you needed only one way to get it yourself (and add the slate's instant delivery to Link, and you're set). It was the only way to guarantee you'd meet the rapidly approaching deadline.

Also, you didn't trust the stable system to be as discerning as yourself when choosing suitable product. While you didn't doubt they would put forth their best efforts, you acknowledged that a delivery guild probably had limited knowledge of advanced spell craft and their associated counterfeits.

You couldn't afford to make any mistakes when it was The Hero of Hyrule's life you were working to secure.

Only the very best would do for Link, after all. Even if you had to put in the footwork to ensure it.

You smiled tiredly at Adino, noting how his thin brows were pulled into a deep frow. How his eyes flickered over your road-weary face and sagging posture with veiled intent. Searching and prying and worried. Lips pulled down in displeasure.

He was worried for you. Keeping secrets (something you'd seldom done so openly before. something you'd rarely done, period). Taking seemingly unnecessary risks (something you'd never done at all before this little proposal). All behaviors that were definite red flags. All behaviors that were concerning. Especially coming from someone like you (who you'd become).

And you loved that about Adino. How quietly observant and caring he was when he cared enough to try. Even if he acted like a prickly little cactus most of the time.

"Trust me. I wish I could just let the stables handle this." You'd begun, meeting Adino's (and Skims) gazes as you continued. Sighing. "But this is something I have to do myself. It's important to me."

Skims nodded, having already accepted your reasonings regardless. And slowly, reluctantly, Adino nodded too. Still looking as surly as ever, but willing to back down quietly so long as you were in possession enough of your thoughts to acknowledge the strangeness of your current plans.

"Thank you." And you meant that. Even as the next words hurt your very soul. Perhaps even more than the damned sand (yeah right). "I'll pay you triple if you agree to accompany me as my bodyguards." Skims' and Adino's eyes lit up at that, and you could practically see the rupee signs swimming within them. The bastards.

And somehow Red was suddenly there as well, looking just as bright-eyed and eager as she nodded along with the boys.

Your brow twitched. And Red grinned. Far too many teeth caged within blood red lips.

You sighed.

'Damnit, Link. Why do you cost me so much money.'

---

Sitting on the edge of the Zora Capital's Central Reservoir, Link held the slate in his cold-numbed hands. Looking out over the misty landscape laid out far below, cushioning the shining zora city in its translucent shroud.

The divine beast calmed at his back, as was the spirit still trapped within its confines (patient. kind. understanding. even in the face of death and heartbreak).

His fingers tightened on the slate's smooth edges at the reminder. Knuckles turning white from the pressure of his grip. The chilled ache of his bones a painful burn against his exposed flesh and skin.

His shoulders begun to shake. He wanted to sleep in his own bed, with his own pillow and his own blankets. He wanted to bathe in his shiny round bowl of a bath with his nice smelling soaps and hair cleansers.

He wanted to go home.

He was afraid to go home.

But no. That wasn't true. Not really. It wasn't that he was afraid to go home (to his home. to your home).

It was that he was ashamed. Ashamed of what he had lost. Ashamed of how he had failed.

Seeing Mipha's face (and that was her name. Mipha. the zora woman he may have once loved. not some nameless face peering out of her tomb with sad, accepting eyes) had finally made him understand the weight he carried upon his shoulders now. The burden of his past failings.

And he didn't know how to reconcile these feelings. Of who he was, and the pain he'd left in the wake of his death.

And who he was now, and his inability to grieve these people who had once meant so much to him. And who, in some ways, still did. Even if he couldn't remember why he felt as such. Even as the guilt tore him apart at the seams.

Far below, in the dark waters of the Domain's endless web of rivers. The flashing white of paper slips beneath a rising current. The ink fading into the darkness of the depths.

---

AM,

Thank you for everything you've done for me. Without you, I don't know if I'd have the strength to continue on. Knowing so much has been lost because of my failure.

I'm afraid of what I'll find if I remember who I used to be. I don't think I can be the man so many remember.

I don't want to be him. He's dead. I'm not him anymore. I'm me.

Is it selfish of me to just want to be the man I am now?

I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger for you and everyone who ever believed in me. I'm sorry I don't want to remember how to be strong.

I hope one day you can forgive me.

-Link

---

Back to the shadows to rest.

I forgot the tags before sleeping! Sorry Babies, I know you already found it, but I'll still tag you regardless!

Tagging: @littlepanda7 @2000babies

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Prove Your Worth to Me (Brat-tamer!CEO!Nanami x Bratty!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“If you wish to leave, you can, but if you stay, you need to prove to me your worth. I’m not a man who gives things out so easily.” 

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you apply for a sectorial job, but the interview process is a lot more intense than you bargained for. 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dom!Nanami; sub!Reader; Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Dubcon; Coercion; Brat-taming; Mild BDSM; Bondage; Degradation & Praise; Semi-Clothed Sex; Deepthroating; Hair-Pulling; Spitting; Mutual Oral; Doggystyle Over the Desk; Nanami Talks on the Phone While He F*cks You; Edge Play; Namecalling; Unprotected Creampie; Facial; PLOT TWIST

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: This is how I'm coping. Rest in peace, Kento. You were the best man & the best baby daddy ever. Imma come & help you build that house on the beach -Jazz

********

You sit in the waiting room in the pristine office, your fingers clutching your bag to stop your hands from shaking. 

You're so nervous. Job interviews always seem to do damage to your nerves and confidence, even though you’ve done them many, many times before. 

‘This is no different,’ you think to yourself, practicing the mantra you’ve had in your head for a week preparing for this interview. ‘It’s just an interview. He’s just a person. You are confident, intelligent, and a boss ass bitch, whether you get this job or not.’ 

But fuck, you hope you get it. It’s a really good position: a secretarial/assistant position for Kento Nanami, the CEO of Nanami Enterprises which specializes in human resources, charitable work, and citywide issues. Mr. Nanami is well-known throughout Japan as an entrepreneur and a very generous man, rich in intelligence and skills as well as money.

Seriously, the man is loaded. He is in every magazine, including Forbes, and has traveled all across the world closing business deals. 

He is also extremely handsome. You’ve seen his face many times in the media with his sharp jaw, intense eyes, and neatly-cut blonde hair. You’ve heard he is taller in person (and bigger at that). You’ve seen him at press conferences and dinner parties, photographed in his expensive suits or even coming off of a private jet in his sunglasses, a permanent, stoic expression on his face. You’ve wondered many times what he looks like out of his designer clothes as any woman would to an attractive man. 

But now that you’re about to meet him, all of this hits you much differently. Now that you’re sitting here in his pristine waiting room with its coffee machines and packaged snacks for clients and hearing the buzz of work activity–phones ringing; heels clicking across the floor, etc.–makes your heart scatter in your chest. Your palms sweat so frequently that you have to wipe them off on your pencil skirt every five minutes. You don’t know if you can handle any of this. 

And you hate feeling this way. You know how good you are with job interviews. Every one you’ve sat for after applying, you’ve received. You take pride in the way you’re perceived, especially when it comes to appearance. Though your interview is at 10am today, you woke up at damn near the ass crack of dawn and primped yourself. You ironed your outfit, choosing a cream-colored blouse that you tucked into your pencil skirt, nylon stockings, and heels. You curled your hair. You spritzed on sweet-smelling perfume. You even planned your makeup look several days beforehand which has been executed well. 

You look good…but you don't feel good. How are you possibly supposed to nail this interview if you can’t even stop your hands from shaking? “Stop it,” you hiss to yourself, glad that you’re the only one in the waiting room. “You will get this job. You deserve this job.” 

And it sounds like a good job position. Like, one that any person would strive to possess in this materialistic world where capitalism rules the earth. You found it on Glassdoor and as soon as you read the description and qualifications (a college degree, certain skills, attitude, etc.), you applied.

As a secretary working here, you would be working closely with Nanami as his personal assistant to help him take care of his work and anything he doesn’t have a chance to get to, such as scheduling appointments and meetings for him, and attending them in some cases, making and taking calls, and other office and secretarial work. The pay is much better than your current job that you desperately want to leave.

You’re tired of working underneath an asshole who only cares about his money and could give less of a shit about his employees or their issues. 

Were you expecting Maki, one of Nanami’s assistants, to reach out to you? Definitely not. But here you are, sitting primped, polished, and positively terrified two weeks later after receiving that joyous email for an interview. You just hope you can hold onto your wits and– 

“Ms. L/N?” You startle at the sound of your last name and look up into the eyes of Maki from behind her glasses. She stands at the threshold of the waiting room in a black turtleneck and slacks that hug her toned frame. You can already tell she has every man in here simping for her. “Mr. Nanami is ready for you now,” she says. Though she doesn’t smile, her tone is warm. “I have to deliver something, so one of his other assistants will walk you to his office.” 

“T-Thank you,” you say, cringing slightly at your stutter. If Maki notices, she doesn’t act as if she does and doesn’t mention it. She leads you halfway across the hallway to introduce you to Mai, a shorter version of Maki with no glasses, short hair, and wearing a low-cut red blouse that probably would drive any guy crazy. “Gosh, you are gorgeous!” She gushes as soon as she sees you. “And your hair looks fabulous. You’d definitely turn heads here.” 

You smile bashfully while Maki rolls her eyes. “Can you please just take her to Nanami’s office for her interview?” she sighs. “You know he hates lateness.” She gives you a nod then, her eyes kind despite how intense they seem. “Good luck, Ms. L/N,” she says before heading off to do her work, her hips swaying in her slacks. 

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Mai giggles as she presses a button to one of the elevators next to you. “That’s my sister. She’s always that sweet and bubbly.” She gives you a wink. You giggle to yourself, deciding you like both of them and you wonder what the rest of the team here is like. 

Mai presses the elevator button to the upper floor and leads you inside the damning doors that automatically shut once you are both inside. Silence swells around the tiny box and you can hear your heart pumping madly in your head. You see Mai look at you out of your peripheral version. “Nervous?” she asks. You give her a sheepish smile. “Does it show?” you chuckle. 

“He really isn’t a tough guy,” Mai says, contrary to what you think. “He just likes everything to be perfect and detailed, right down to the T. Judging by your resume, I think you’re fit for the job!” She gives you a bright, comforting smile that is impossible to ignore or not feel. You thank her for the compliment, feeling somewhat better. One the elevator doors open on the floor, she walks you down the pristine hallway with marble walls and grey carpeting until you come to two oak double doors. 

Mai smiles at you despite you wanting to book it. “Right this way,” she says, motioning to the door. “This is his office right here.” She knocks for you three times, loud and clear. “Come in,” a deep, clear voice calls out. It sends shivers down your spine. Maki opens the door then and it’s like the gates of Hell opening for you. 

You are met with a gorgeous, spacious office that is fit for a CEO. On one side is a lounging space with a flat-screened TV, black leathered seats, and a bookcase filled with books of all genres and kinds. On the other is a kitchenette with all stainless steel appliances, including a fridge, freezer, microwave, dishwasher and dryer, and a mini bar where a bottle of scotch and a wine rack sit. In the middle sits a wide, polished, oak desk with a large glass window overlooking the city where a man sits behind his laptop and a mug of coffee. 

A very handsome man at that. His jaw is sharp, his face slim, not a stitch of facial hair anywhere on his face. His blonde hair is combed and styled perfectly almost if he purposely styled each strand. When he looks up, you’re taken aback by not only his looks but the aura he gives off. It is powerful and intimidating despite his calm and cool demeanor. It’s only intensified by the gray suit jacket he wears over a crisp blue button-up shirt that he’s paired with matching slacks, red bottom shoes, and a yellow, leopard-printed tie. You nearly giggle at the way the tie stands out against the rest of his outfit, giving him a hint of personality. 

When his green eyes meet yours from across the room, you feel all of the air in your body leave you. A current of electricity courses from your body to his, making the room feel tense despite the coolness of the office. He gives you a stoic expression as if he is irritated that he was interrupted. “Your 10 o’clock is here, sir!” Mai brightly announces. “For Y/N L/N?” 

Nanami’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Ah, yes,” he replies. He stands from his desk, giving you a chance to see how tall he is. The man is nearly six foot! You swear that you nearly fall out right there. “My interview. Thank you, Mai, that will be all.” 

Mai respectfully bows before turning on her heel to face you. “Good luck,” she whispers with a wink before closing the door behind you. Then it’s just you and him. You stand near the door while Nanami comes around the front of the desk, still keeping that same cool, blank expression. You feel like a deer who is being sized up for dinner by a lion. “So you’re here,” he says. “And only two minutes late.” 

You feel embarrassment flood you, making you hot all over you. You know he’s testing you, trying to make you break right off the bat…but you won’t let him. You clear your throat and meet him halfway, putting your hand out for a shake. “Mr. Nanami,” you calmly say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I arrived here ten minutes early than my scheduled time, but one of your assistants had to leave me for work duties.” You give him a smile as the cherry on top. ‘See? I’m good.’

Nanami’s eyebrows raise slightly, obviously impressed by your quick-wittedness and ability to read the room. “Not bad,” he praises you. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. L/N.” His larger hand meets yours, giving you a chance to feel his calloused palm and thick fingers. You try to avoid thinking about them around your neck. “Please, have a seat.” 

He motions to the cushioned seats in front of you while he takes his seat behind his desk, shutting his laptop. "You’ll have to forgive me for my tartness. I had a no-show earlier for an 8 o’clock meeting and I’m not a man of those.” You nod understandably. “It’s okay,” you say. “I can understand that. I’ve never been a fan of no-shows either.” You cross your legs as you sit, folding your hands in your lap. 

“Are you referring to your current job as a research assistant?” he questions. The corner of his lips twitch at the look of shock you give him. You damn near forgot where you work at! “I did my studying for today. Your resume is very interesting.” Interesting. You don’t know whether to be happy with that statement or nervous. “Oh…thank you. I actually have it here with me as a copy.” 

You go into your bag where you retrieve a folder and several copies of your resume. You pass one to Nanami who barely cracks a smile at the fact that you are prepared. He must be trying to size you up, see if you’re fit for the position. You watch him read over the paper, his index finger dragging over each section.

“So you graduated with a 3.8 GPA with a Bachelor’s Degree in marketing and communications,” he points out. You nod, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. “Yes, originally, I was studying political science, but I changed my major during my sophomore year.” 

“May I ask why?” he asks, raising a curious eyebrow. You’re more than happy to give him an answer. “Politics can become too messy in my opinion, not to mention that the major was extremely competitive. I was also working as an intern at the time and on the–“ 

“Cheerleading team,” he finishes. “Yes, that’s listed here in your extra curriculum activities, but you left the team during your senior year, it appears.” He gives you a sharp look that is pushing you to give him an explanation. Your brain grasps for straws. “Um…senior year is a busy time for all students,” you quickly explain. “At the time, I was just trying to finish school so I could graduate on time, which I accomplished, fortunately.” 

Nanami only gives a “huh” at this which isn’t the response you are looking for. “Huh” as in “oh, that’s interesting” or “huh” as in “this bitch isn’t reliable and can’t handle shit when shit gives tough”? 

“Let’s talk about your current position.” He folds his big, calloused hands on top of his desk, on your resume. “It seems like a promising position. Why do you want to leave there and come work here?” 

You sit up straight, happy that you practiced for this exact question. “Well, I just believe it’s time for me to move onto something new; preferably onto a new company that has a diverse team and benefits for its employees. I believe that your company does so.” Nanami leans forward slightly, peering deep into the recesses of your soul behind his spectacles. “So what exactly do you think you can offer this company, Ms. L/N?” he asks. “Or more specifically, what can you offer me?” 

Your stomach drops. You didn’t practice for this question. “U-Um…I’m a quick learner,” you reply, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. “I’m not afraid to ask questions if I’m unsure, but I’m also not afraid to lean on myself for answers. I work well independently as well as in a team. I’m hardworking, determined, and detail-oriented. I’m also willing to do whatever work is necessary to succeed.” 

Nanami’s eyebrows raise once more. “Whatever work necessary?” he parrots, quiet interest in his tone. “Elaborate on that for me. What kind of work or things would you be willing to do in order to succeed at this company, Ms. L/N?” 

Your brain begins to jump from place to place, grabbing at whatever. “Staying longer hours,” you decide. “I know this is a 9-5 position, but if you ever needed me to stay longer to get a head start on work or complete something, I’d be willing to do so. I’m also good at creating Powerpoint presentations for meetings. A-And I’m well-organized.” Now you’re stuttering. Stumbling over your answers. You’re fucking up! He’s going to see your nervous and unconfident and put you on the chopping block! 

Nanami stares you down for a moment longer, making you feel like you’re on trial and he’s a judge, before leaning back in his seat. He places his hands in his lap, ever poised and sexy. “Hm,” he hums. “As much as I appreciate your willingness to stay longer hours, Ms. L/N, I will be honest with you: you’re not the first person who I’ve interviewed who gave me all of this jargon in hopes of getting the position and then didn’t deliver on any of their promises or skills.” 

You nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, gripping your hands to force them to stop shaking. “I’m sure you have,” you quietly reply, “but I’m also sure I can change your mind and prove that I’m worthy of this position, Mr. Nanami.” 

Something sparkles in Nanami’s forest-green eyes and the corner of his mouth twitches. “Worthy?” he questions. “That’s a new one: worthy.” He tests it out on his tongue as if it’s a new kind of food. Something foreign to him. He leans towards you once more, placing his hands on the desk. “Well, let me ask you this: do you think that you’re confident enough to work beside me if you do happen to get this position? Because from what I’m seeing, you’re not.” 

You’re so busy thinking about how handsome he is that you nearly miss his criticism. But when you catch it, you feel cold like you were just dunked in a pool of ice. You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” you ask, squinting at him. 

Nanami barely reacts to your reaction. “You stutter a lot,” he bluntly points out. “Whether out of habit or because you’re nervous which shows the employer, which is me, that you’re not confident in your words or thoughts. Then it’s in your body language: your shoulders are up by your ears and obviously tense, your skin is flushed, and your hands are shaking.” 

And he’s right. You can feel how tense and hot you are; how shaky and unbalanced you feel. You feel like crawling under the chair you’re sitting in and hiding from his scrutiny. But you also won’t allow him to expose you like this. “Well, I would think that nervousness is a common human emotion,” you retort. 

He nods, giving you a point for your fairness. “It is…but judging by your resume, I’m sure you’ve sat through many job interviews, and got the jobs as I’m seeing here.” He takes his glasses off, revealing his naked eyes to you. “So what makes this one so different? Why are you so nervous to be here with me today?” 

You can tell he’s trying hard to make you crack. He’s trying to see if you’re able to handle the pressure. Though you feel nervous and embarrassed, you also feel incredibly pissed. How dare you try to grill you like this? You can’t let him win this. You won’t. “Mr. Nanami,” you carefully say, your tone calm yet firm, “I understand what you’re trying to do here, but I’m not really appreciating it. It seems like more of a grilling session than a job interview. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about the job?” 

Nanami barely even blinks. “We have,” he replies. “And now I’m trying to decide if you are seriously fit for such a position. I take my work very seriously, Ms. L/N, and I need to be sure that you will take my work, as well yours, seriously as well. I can’t have you cracking under pressure or second-guessing things. Those are all signs of being unconfident.” He leans forward, squinting his eyes at you. “Now, do you think you can handle it?” he questions. 

You want to say yes, but you know he’ll argue with you. He’ll come up with all kinds of logic to tell you why you aren’t qualified for this position. So you keep quiet instead, just staring him down and forcing yourself to not look away. The more you stare, the hotter you get until you realize that it’s not out of embarrassment. This heat is out of attraction. Despite your anger, he’s just so goddamn fine! So you look down at your shoes, too afraid for him to see your true feelings under the anger.

Finally, Nanami heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see it,” he sighs. “I’m afraid this is where we–“ 

“What?” you snap, causing him to stop short. You glare at him, enraged. “That’s it? You bring me in here for an interview just to tell me you’re not hiring me because you don’t think I’m confident?” You square your jaw at him and put a hand to your chest. “I am confident,” you hiss. “If you let me show you, I can prove it to you, Mr. Nanami.” 

Now, Nanami smirks. It's rousing and mocking, angering you even more. “Oh,” he nearly chuckles. “So now you want to look at me. And your emotions are easily roused which could complicate your work if you were to work here.” 

The room has gotten too hot. Too tense. You can’t handle this. If you’re here any longer, you’ll surely jump over this desk and wring his thick neck. “You know what?” you scoff haughtily. “I don’t need to sit here and be criticized like this. I may want this job, but I don’t want it that much to allow myself to be grilled like this.” You abruptly stand from your chair, nearly knocking it over. He looks up at you, his expression cool. 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Nanami,” you nearly growl. “Have a good day.” You then whip around to storm out of the office, prepared to leave and never return.  

“Stop.” The command cuts through the air along with Nanami’s deep voice. You do so and turn to face him, confused. He is still sitting down, his steely eyes glaring at you from across the room. “Sit down,” he orders. You gawk at him. Is he serious right now? “Why?” you cackle. “So you can go and grill me some more on why I’m not a good candidate for this position? Thanks, but no–“ 

“I said.” The sound of his chair squeaking across the floor stops you short. He stands behind his desk, blocking the window with his big, tall frame. His expression is dark and intimidating, his eyes daring you to argue with him again. “Sit. Down. Y/N.” His tone is hard as steel with a slight undercurrent of a growl underneath. 

You stand there, taken aback at his change in demeanor. And even more so in the way it makes you feel. You feel tingly and hot, specially between your legs. Nanami continues to stare at you, silently daring you to disobey his order. Against your better judgement, you slowly walk back over to his desk on legs that feel like Jell-O and sit down. Your eyes find your shoes again, afraid to look into his as he sits back down behind his desk. 

“You really think you got it like that?” he asks. “You really think that you have what it takes to work for me? With me?” Your heart flips wildly at his questions and the roughness to his tone. He seems so calm and collected. Who the fuck is this? “Answer the question,” he demands. 

You swallow roughly before opening your mouth. “Yes,” you breathlessly reply. 

That is all Nanami needs to hear. He stands again, coming around the desk to stand beside you. You tremble, harshly biting your lip. “You said you’d prove to me your confidence and other assets that you can bring to this position if I let you.” 

Zzzzip. The familiar sound of a zipper coming down stops you short. You turn your head toward him in time to see his hips and crotch in your face and his hands working his belt off. “Well, now I’m letting you.” Your eyes follow his hands as he shrugs his pants down his waist before reaching into his Armani briefs to reveal his throbbing, hard, veiny cock to you. “Show me what you mean, Ms. L/N. Prove to me your worth.” 

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. This can’t be…he isn’t…he can’t… “W-What is this?” you gasp. “Mr. Nanami, you can’t–“ 

“Can’t what?” he asks. You look up at him, seeing nothing but molten lust in his eyes. “Don’t act as if you weren't hoping I’d do this to you. You wore that skirt and those heels for an obvious reason than to just seem presentable.” He nods at your outfit, making you feel ashamed. “And don't think I didn’t catch the way you looked at me when you walked in or the way you kept crossing and uncrossing your legs under the table. You’re fucking feening right now, aren't you, brat?” 

Brat. The name and the sharpness of his tone makes your stomach flip. “What?” you squeak. “I’m not a–“ 

“Talking back too?” he tsks. He places a hand on the back of your hair, near your scalp. “That just won’t do. A girl like you needs to be put in her place, don’t you agree?” He places his other hand on his cock, slowly pumping the hardened shaft in your face. “This is your decision, Y/N,” he huskily says. “If you wish to leave, you can, but if you stay, you need to prove to me your worth. I’m not a man who gives things out so easily.” 

Your eyes tick from him to his cock, back and forth like ping pong balls. You weigh your options carefully: if you say no, you’re out of a really good job and will be forced to return to the dreaded application process, but if you say yes, you’ll be nothing but a cock-sucking slut. What if he doesn’t even give you the job? 

“So what’s it gonna be, little girl?” Nanami hums. Looking back down at his cock, you take your chances. You wrap one tentative hand around the base of his dick, causing him to shimmy closer to you so he’s closer to your mouth. You then begin pressing light kisses around the head and length of his cock, feeling how warm his skin is against your lips. “There we are,” he softly moans. “Good girl.” 

The praise causes your pussy to twitch in delight and you find yourself beginning to lick up and down his long cock while your hands pump the base. He feels so heavy and thick in your hand. As you do this, soft moans drip from Nanami’s lips, deep and arousing. Your tongue and soft hands on him cause him to reach into his briefs to pull out his heavy balls, letting them hang as you continue to pump him. Your mind is racing, your eyes moving to the door ever so often.

Nanami catches you and chuckles to himself. “Don’t worry; my door has an automatic lock. Maki was only able to open it because I left it unlocked in the case of an appointment….or in the case of visits from horny little sluts like you.” 

You whimper at his degrading words, still slobbering along his cock and wetting it with your saliva. Finally, Nanami stops you and takes your chin into his hand, forcing you to look up at him. “So if I were to tell you that I was stressed and in need of relieving, what would you say to that?” he asks. The question would sound random to anyone else, but you know what he means right off the bat. 

So you give him the answer he is searching for: “I’d ask if I could help you,” you softly reply, your voice breathy and soft. Nanami’s cock twitches in response. “Then show me,” he demands, taking his cock and gently smacking the head against your chin. “Open your mouth for me, brat.”  

And you do so. As soon as your open your mouth, Nanami is hypnotized by your tongue and thick, juicy lips spread open for him. He angles his hips towards your mouth and slowly pushes inside, groaning as he does. “Christ!” he grunts, gripping the back of your head. “Your mouth is so tight and wet, darling.” 

Your moans are muffled as his cock slides into your mouth, stretching out your jaw. Your eyes, stinging with tears, widen at how large he is. You’ve never had a cock this big in your mouth before. Your eyes tick up at Nanami, watching as he strips himself of his suit jacket before unbuttoning his shirt. He reveals his bare, toned chest and hard, pink nipples as he begins to roll his hips against your mouth, forcing you to take more of him. “Come on, brat,” he demands. “Take my cock. Isn’t this what you were after?” 

His shaft slides against your tongue, filling your mouth and senses with nothing but the salty taste of his pre-cum, the scent of his cologne in your nostrils, and the feeling of his hand gripping the back of your head. He pushes you down onto his cock, forcing himself into your throat. A gargled moan leaves your lips as he throws his head back and groans at the feeling of being trapped inside your hot, tight throat. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay?” he coos. 

He then begins to slowly roll his hips against your mouth, causing his cock to plunge in and out of your throat, getting deeper each time. His heavy balls swing against your chin, becoming wet with the spit that has begun to pool and drip over your lips. Nanami tuts at the sight of you being a slobbery, sloppy mess for him as he fucks your face. “Such a mess,” he sighs. “Just a dirty, bratty little slut, doesn’t even know how to keep herself clean.” 

He wraps a hand around your braids and forces your head back, yanking his cock out of your mouth. You gasp at the sharp sting coming from your scalp. “You want this?” he murmurs, staring down at you. “You want this cock? Tell me no and I’ll stop.” Your eyes stare at the cock, now shining in your saliva, bobbing in front of you. Your pussy clenches impatiently in your panties, gushing all in the cotton article of clothing. You want this. You want him. “Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, I want your cock. Please give it to me, sir.” 

Nanami closes his eyes and inhales as if your words are a drug that he just got a hit of. “Call me Kento, darling,” he says as he plunges his cock back into your mouth. “Though ‘sir’ does sound quite nice.” He begins to thrust his hips roughly into your mouth, fucking your throat like it is his own personal toy. “It’d be a…fuck…a joy to hear you call me that every single day I…shit, darling…come in here. Even better to hear you moan it. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

Your words are a garbled, mumbling mess around his cock, your voice taken from the sound the lewd, sloppy sounds leaving your lips as he mercilessly fucks your throat. You gag and spit around his shaft, earning praise by his orgasmic moans and grunts. The more he fucks your mouth, the harder his grip on your hair gets until you can feel your scalp burning. But you endure it. You also find yourself enjoying the bite of pain along with the feeling of being used. This is so degrading: being used as a fuck toy in such a way. 

And you love every second of it. 

“Fuck!” Nanami growls, finally pulling his throbbing cock out of your mouth. It bobs against your lips before he pulls away, slowly pumping the appendage in your face. You gasp, finally free to breathe. You are a complete mess, saliva dripping down your chin and staining your blouse; hair askew; makeup ruined. The blonde man stares down at you, your hair still wrapped in his fist. “Look at you,” he huffs. “You’re a fucking mess. Came in here all pretty just to get ruined by me, didn’t you?” 

You whimper at his words, your pussy tingling. His thumb moves across your plump lower lip, spreading the saliva across your lips. “Oh…does my little brat love being degraded?” Hot embarrassment makes you flush. “N-No, I–“ 

You’re silenced by Nanami’s hand squeezing your cheeks, causing your lips to pucker. “Lying?” he sharply asks, his gaze dark. “You have the nerve to fix your mouth to say that shit to me yet your body betrays you.” He nods down at your thighs that clench together and your hardened nipples that have begun to poke through the mesh fabric of your bra. “I guess you need some attention too,” he sighs. “I just can’t decide whether you really deserve my touch.” 

He unhands you then, stepping away from you and leaving you feeling empty. The stinging sensation coming from your scalp and throat are all that remain of him. You feel like you’re burning up. There’s an all-consuming fire eating at your body and between your legs. You need him. You bend down to press your head to his shoes, your trembling hands grasping his pant legs. “Please, sir,” you beg. “Please touch me. You can’t leave me like this!” 

An aloof chuckle leaves Nanami’s lips. “Oh, I can’t?” he asks. “I can’t let you walk out of here with that pussy gushing for me and that mascara running?” You desperately whimper and babble pleas for more, the aching of your sobbing, wet pussy too much to bare. Fortunately, it’s enough for Nanami to give in.

“Oh, alright,” he pitifully sighs, "but only because you look so oh-so pathetic. And you did such a good job sucking my cock just now. Stand up.” You immediately rise to your wobbly feet as soon as the order is uttered. Nanami gives you a hot stare as his hand trails up the front of your blouse. “Let’s get these fucking clothes off,” he growls impatiently. “Oh, and I almost forgot.” 

Suddenly, his lips are on yours, rough and wanton. You moan into the kiss as his hot, wet tongue begins to explore yours, swirling around your mouth and tasting himself off of your tongue. His kiss is hungry and hard; not at all soft or romantic. He is desperate for you. Breathy groans and gasps leaves his lips as his hands begin to quickly unbutton each button to your pretty silk blouse. Soon, he becomes impatient and ends up tearing the thing off of you, resulting in a button flying off. 

You gasp, pulling away from the sloppy kiss as he flings your top open to reveal your lacy black bra. “Sir!” you shout in protest. “Kento, please! You’ll ruin it!” He tears the rest of the top off of you, pulling it off of your arms and tossing it to the side like it didn’t cost you a pretty penny. Nanami rolls his eyes at your dramatics. “You can rest assure you’ll be receiving the money for new clothing…if you do a good job for me now, that is.” 

As his lips and tongue find yours again, his veiny hands then begin to slide up and down your chest, fondling your breasts over your bra cups. You softly moan at his touch into his mouth, the tingling sensation you’re feeling between your thighs quickly growing. He pulls away from the kiss, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Mmm, such gorgeous breasts you have, darling,” he groans. “Too bad they belong to such a slutty brat.” 

Without warning, he slides your bra straps down your shoulders and slides the bra cups down to reveal your breasts and hard, brown nipples, pebbled by the cold and your arousal. A crazed look crosses Nanami’s eyes before he ducks down to capture a nipple into his mouth. “Shit,” you gasp, your hands finding his hair. His tongue wraps around your nipple, lapping at the tiny bud as his hand works your other breast, fondling it. 

Your mouth falls open and your eyes flutter closed at the new sensations you’re feeling. He then switches to the other, sucking and tugging on the nipple with his teeth, smirking at your sharp intake of breath. He alternates between each nipple, sucking, lapping, and licking at each like a hungered man desperate for water. With each torturous second, the tingling and ache in your cunt grow, making you go nearly insane. “A-Ah,” you moan. “K-Kento…fuck, sir, please!” You arch your back, pushing your breasts further into Nanami’s mouth. 

He chuckles, pulling away from your nipple with a string of saliva dripping from his bottom lip. He looks up at you, his eyes shimmering with lust. “Getting worked up over having your nipples sucked? Such a sensitive little thing you are, Ms. L/N. Now bend over.” You blink at him, momentarily confused and still recovering from the foreplay. “W-What?” you nimbly ask. 

Nanami gives you a stern look, a darkness coming over his gaze. “I didn’t stutter, brat,” he growls. “If I tell you to do something, you do it. How else will I be able to depend on you for this job?” He peels himself away from your naked breasts and nods at his desk. “Now bend over my desk now before I do it for you.” He then cracks one of his hands at his sides, the sound of his knuckle cracking making you gulp (and cream in your panties). 

You do as he says and bend over his desk, being careful to not knock over his laptop, mug, or papers. You brace your hands against the oakwood surface, biting your lip when you feel Nanami’s presence behind you. You’re a wreck before he even touches you, but when he finally slides his hands up your skirt to grip your thighs, you’re shaking. His hands move all across your thighs and backside, gripping your ass over your skirt. “Damn this skirt,” he growls. “Damn this ass of yours. Apologies, darling, but I have to spank you. After all, you deserve punishment for such naughty behavior.” 

He leans down toward you, his minty breath in your face and lips at your ear. “Do you want your punishment, slut?” he questions barely above a whisper. Pathetically, you nod, arching your back and presenting your ass to him. “Y-Yes, sir,” you reply. “Please punish me. Make me your good girl.” 

That answer pleases Nanami. He slides your skirt up to reveal your ass––and the lace, black panties underneath your nylon stockings. “Brace yourself, darling; my hands are rough.” 

Spank! The moment Nanami’s hand makes contact with your asscheek, you jump and gasp at the stinging sensation. His hands really are rough. Nanami chuckles at your reaction. “Yeah, you like that, naughty girl?” He does it again invoking a low, desperate moan from the deepest depths of you. Spank! “Y’know, I saw you staring at my hands earlier.”

Spank! “I bet all you thought about in that dumb little brain of yours is me bending you over and doing this to you.”

Spank! “I bet you want someone to come in and find us like this, your pretty ass bent over my desk.”

Spank! Spank! Spank! 

He does this again and again, punishing your ass until it is stinging and possibly red with his handprints on each cheek. Though it hurts and brings tears to your eyes, it also makes you wetter. The pain mixed with your pleasure is one intoxicating cocktail that you can't get enough of. Soon, your pussy has a heartbeat and it throbs impatiently, ready for something to be inside of it.

“Sir, please!” you whine, gripping the desk for dear life. “I can’t take it anymore! I’m sorry for being such a brat!” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Nanami hums, pleased with your confession. You feel him begin to yank at your stockings, pulling the waistband down your hips. “I bet that pussy is too,” he murmurs as he quickly pulls your stockings down your legs. He is rough and ends up putting a tear in one of them, but you’re way too horny to care. He then reaches your panties and pulls them down, groaning at the way your pussy lips stick to the cotton fabric. “And she is. Just look at how she’s crying for me.” 

You can feel how wet you are judging by the way your pussy tingles in the cold. Nanami bends down and gently blows on it, causing you to tense and softly whimper at the tiny bit of contact. “Such a beautiful pussy you have,” he coos. “And all for me.” Before you can even take a breath, he is gently prying your asscheeks apart and spitting on your pussy before digging in and slurping his saliva back up. 

As he does this, his tongue swirls along your clit and his pillowy-soft lips cushion your pussy, running along your slit as he plays with your cunt with his mouth. You gasp, moan, and sob into the desk, wanting to dig your nails into the oakwood with how good he is. He eats your pussy like it’s a profession of his, taking his time getting to know the ins and outs of you. He even slides his hand up to gently run his thumb over your puckered asshole while he tongue fucks you, groaning appreciatively at your taste. 

Your toes curl inside your heels and your hands grasp to grab for something only to get polished wood beneath you. You’ve never gotten so close so quickly before. Usually, it takes a while for a man to get you even a mile from cumming, but not with Nanami. He moves his mouth and tongue with precision against your clit, moving between fast and slow depending on how your body reacts.

But when his thumb begins to caress your asshole, you just about lose it. “Oh, God,” you sob, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. “Kento, just fuck me. I need you to fuck me!” 

Then…nothing. The feeling of your nearing orgasm fades. Nanami stops eating you out immediately and you’re left wondering what happened. His hand suddenly finds your hair and roughly yanks it back, causing you to release a strangled gasp. It hurts way more than earlier, his grip tight and merciless.

He bends his face down to meet yours, his eyes dark and almost frightening. “You don't tell me what the fuck to do, brat,” he growls. “I decide what to do to your body. Me. Understand?” 

His grip tightens more and the stinging in your scalp of your braids being yanked nearly makes you see God early. “Yes!” you sob. “Yes, sir, I’m sorry! This pussy just needs you so bad!” Finally, he loosens his grip and releases your hair, emitting a weak moan of pain from you. 

“Alright, brat,” he cooly says. “I’ll fuck you…but we’ll do it my way. Put your hands behind your back, wrists crossed.” 

You do as you’re told, putting your hands behind your back and crossing them over one another. You then feel Nanami’s funny-looking tie wrap around your wrists, tightening them and securing them behind your back.

You softly gasp at the sensations of being restricted to which Nanami pauses. “Good?” he asks. You nod and he proceeds to continue to tie your wrists until he is finally satisfied. “There we go,” he proudly says. “Now you can’t squirm or make a fuss when I plunge my cock deep inside of you.” 

And you can’t. Your arms are completely restricted from movement, as is the rest of you as you stand between the desk and Nanami mounted behind you. He ruts his hips against your ass for a few minutes, sliding his cock between your slit and over your throbbing clit, relishing the sounds you make as you lay splayed out against his desk.

“Here I come, baby,” he whispers before sliding all the way home inside you. You gasp in unison as his thick cock stretches out your wet pussy walls, filling you up the way you’ve been waiting for. 

He starts slow at first, grabbing your hips and slowly rolling his hips so you can get used to his length and girth. Your hand flies to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans. Nanami doesn’t like that. He tears your hand away from your face, pinning it back down on the desk. “My walls are soundproof,” he grunts. “You have no need to worry. Come on, baby; give me those slutty sounds I know you can make.” 

He begins to fuck you harder against the desk, one hand gripping your hip while the other lays flat on the middle of your back, keeping you pressed flat against the oakwood surface. As soon as he hits that spot inside you, you can’t keep quiet. You begin wailing in pleasure, overcome with the feeling he is giving you. “O-Oh, fuck!” you gasp. “Fuck, sir!” 

Nanami draws more of these moans and wails of pleasure out of you the more he fucks you until he is pounding your pussy against the desk. “God, you’re so tight!” he groans. “You’re much better than the fleshlight I keep under my desk. You’d be a much better addition to my office for stress.” He gives your ass a smack before lifting your leg up and fucking into you at a faster pace that is making you see the entire galaxy. 

“Take it,” he demands. “Take this cock. You wanted it so bad and now you’ve got it.” Yes, you do have it…but you don’t know if you can take it. Every rough thrust of his cock sends you into orbit. It shakes the desk with you bent over it, making your titties bounce against the surface and your ass jiggle against his hips. “Wait, sir!” you plea. “Go slow! Can’t…handle…it!” Your words are broken by the force of how hard he is fucking you, taking you very breath away. 

Nanami cackles like a villain straight out of a Disney movie as he looks over your plump ass pressed against him, his cock nestled deep in your ushy, gushy pussy. “Ohhh, is this cock too much for that poor pussy?” he teasingly asks. “Is it too big and thick for that slutty little hole to take? I believe I missed the part where I gave a fuck.” 

He continues to turn you all the way out, making the desk rock and causing his balls to swing against your clit, throwing you deeper into pleasure. “This is what you get for being a brat,” he grunts. “This is what you get for disobeying me. What you get for wearing that skirt and those heels. This is what–“ 

Rrrring! Rrrring! 

Nanami doesn’t slow his pace or stop his rough fucking into your cunt despite his work phone ringing. You weakly look up at the black telephone sitting by his laptop. “This is a call from Satoru Gojo,” the automated voice announces from the phone. 

“Shit!” Nanami hisses. He bends down toward you then, his nose nearly centimeters from yours. “I’ve gotta take this, but don’t you dare say a single thing. Don’t make a sound.”

You weakly nod, covering your mouth as he goes to pick up the phone. After a moment of composing himself, he clears his throat and answers. “Yes, Satoru?” he asks, keeping his voice steady and cool as if he isn’t fucking your brains out over his desk. “This had better be important. I’m busy at the moment.” 

“You’re always busy!” Gojo shouts into the phone, causing Nanami to flinch. “It’s what you always say when I ask for you to come out with me on the weekends…which you never do!”

Nanami sighs and you picture him rolling his eyes from behind you as he grips one of your asscheeks, no doubt leaving bruises. “That’s because all you do is hang out at clubs to fuck strangers and drink yourself into a stupor.” 

“Yeah!” Gojo agrees. “And it’s fun! You ever heard of that before? Fun? You ever try it? I think it’d do you good one of these days to have it some time, Keni.” 

This “Satoru” guy must really work Nanami’s nerves because you can feel the tension radiating off of him. He finds your hair and he grips it, continuing to pound into you at a faster pace than before. “What do you want?” He asks, becoming impatient. He yanks on your hair a little too rough and you whimper from behind your hand, your body tensing. Nanami quickly loosens his grip, looking down upon you with worry. ”Too rough?” he whispers. 

You look back at him and shake your head though your scalp burns. But you want it to burn. You want to take every single of ounce of pain and pleasure he gives you. “No,” you whisper. “I’m okay.” You begin to fuck back into him, tossing your ass back to fuck his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure. “Fuck me harder, sir,” you purr. “Take your stress out on this pussy. Make this little slut yours.” 

Nanami’s eyes widen like he can’t believe you’re really real. “Fucking hell,” he whispers. Suddenly realizing he’s still on the phone, he puts the phone back to his ear while he roughly pins you back down to the desk. “Sorry, what?” he questions. 

“I was telling you about the meeting we’re supposed to have at the end of the week,” Gojo repeats. “Were you listening to me at all?” You groan as Nanami’s cock sinks deeper inside you and your hand finds your slit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Sorry, I got…distracted.” You giggle behind your hand. “Is this about the brand deal with the Human Rights Campaign? I told them we get 50% of proceeds.” 

“Not just them, but the New York Times too!” Gojo excitedly states. “I pulled some strings for us, man! They want to do a story on both of our departments! Say, ain’t it weird that we’re both a part of the same company but my department is all the way in the fucking US?” 

Nanami rails you harder; deeper; faster. Pushing you further and further towards an explosive orgasm. “Gojo, I told you already,” he grunts. “You’re part of the American branch while I’m part of–“

His words are quickly interrupted by a sharp gasp when you begin tossing your ass back into him, looking back at him as you do it. He glares down at you like he is one second away from ruining you. “You fucking brat,” he snarls. “You’re gonna get it later.” 

“Who’s gonna get it later?” Gojo asks curiously. “Nanami, you good? You’re acting kinda off. Are you with somebody right now?” Your heart lurches into your throat, but your pussy also clenches at the idea of being caught. “No,” Nanami sharply replies, yanking on your hair. “No, it was just a bug I saw. Listen, I’ve gotta go.” 

You thank God for that because you don’t think you can keep quiet anymore. You have to clamp your hand over your mouth and bite your palm to keep from screaming at the deep dicking you’re receiving. “So we’re on meeting both HRC and NYT on Friday?” Gojo asks. “It starts at 1PM to about 3, but I’ll be bringing wine along so that might turn into about 5.” 

“Yes, yes, that’s fine,” Nanami impatiently huffs. “Just keep me informed.” Without a goodbye, he hangs up and tosses the phone on the ground. “Now back to you,” he growls. He takes your hips and pounds into you with the force of a thousand men, wrecking you on his cock. “Don’t run from it now, brat. You were so desperate to fuck yourself on it minutes before.” 

Your tits swing beneath you and your ass claps against him every time he thrusts, creating a symphony of sounds mingling with your desperate whines and the squelching of your wet pussy being fucked by his cock. You can’t take it anymore. Your body is wet with sweat and your knees are buckling, tired from this and desperate for rest, just as your pussy is desperate to cum. “K-Kento!” you whine. “Keni, I’m so close! I need to cum!” 

And like an asshole, Nanami slows down, purposely rolling his hips in a way that is agonizing given that he isn’t moving any quicker. “Prove it,” he demands. “Make me make you cum. Beg for it, brat.” 

The slower he gets, the crazier you become until you’re pleading for him to just make you cum. “Please make me cum, sir,” you sob in desperation. “Make me cream all over your cock! Please, I need it! Your little brat needs to cum on that dick and have you fill her up.”

You turn to face him, peering up at him through thick lashes and big, brown eyes that have Nanami wanting to nut all over you just so everyone can know you are his now. “Please, Keni,” you whisper. “Gimme that dick. Gimme that cum. Your little office sluts needs it so much.” 

That does it for Nanami. He speeds up immediately, pounding your wet pussy into his desk until neither one of you are quiet and both of you are soon tumbling over the edge. “Fuck!” he groans. “I’m gonna cum! I can’t stop!” 

Your moans are signs of encouragement to cum deep inside of you and he does so. With a primal grunt of your first name, he pours his cum inside of your aching, twitching pussy. You cum right with him, your walls gripping onto him tighter than a vice as your body tenses. With a loud moan, you cum all over his dick, making his balls drip with your cream because there is so much of it. You can feel him drip down your thighs, staining your pretty nylon stockings. You can’t even recover from the orgasm yet. Nanami quickly pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, emitting a weak moan from the emptiness you feel. 

“Not done yet,” he snarls. He pumps his cock, wet with your and his cum, hard and fast, his handsome face red with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Turn the fuck around and show me that face. Stick out your tongue.” You do as he says, though wobbly and soaked with sweat and cum. 

You get on your knees and look up at him, admiring his God-like body. You then open your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue, hot, needy pants leaving your lips the more he pumps his cock against your lips. “Gonna paint this pretty face,” he moans. “Gonna make you wish you listened to me.”

You watch his toned body tense and writhe as he finally cums again, shooting ropes of cum into your mouth and onto your face, destroying your makeup. You gasp as each warm drop hits your skin, coating you in all of his sticky nut. You feel used. Owned. 

Nanami staggers away from you, panting heavily, his toned body soaked in sweat. He swipes his blonde strands from his flushed forehead, still coming down from his high. He then looks down at you with his cum dripping down your face, your pretty interview outfit ruined, and your braids askew. “Consider yourself hired,” he says, a rasp in his voice. 

You giggle at his words despite his cum beginning to drip over your eyes. You shut them, not wanting to go blind. “Shit, I needed that,” Nanami sighs. You weakly moan, bringing him back to reality. “Shit, hang on a sec,” he says, panicking slightly as the cum begins to drip lower and lower down to your breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” You hear him walk around you to his desk before returning with some tissues. 

He carefully dabs at your face, cleaning you up. “Sorry about your makeup, honey,” he says. “It’s all over these tissues now.” He goes down to your chest, cleaning between your breasts and neck. Finally, he finishes. “There now. All clean.” You open your eyes to stare into his, feeling like you’re wandering through a deep, wild wilderness in those green orbs. “Let’s get these off of you,” he says, moving behind you to untie your wrists. 

When you’re finally free, you twist your wrists around and wiggle your fingers, getting the blood flowing back through your bones. “So how do you feel?” he softly asks. You take a moment to assess yourself. Though your body aches, your throat is raw, and your pussy is feeling sore, you feel oh-so good. It’s so hard to explain. To be used up by him has made you feel better than you have in months. “I-I feel…good,” you decide. “Better than good. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. Thank God for your soundproof walls.” 

A slight blush paints Nanami’s face. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s so endearing and makes you wanna make him cum over and over again. “So I did okay?” he sheepishly asks. 

You wrap your arms around him, “Baby, you did more than okay,” you giggle, pecking his lips. “But you always do…but I’d be lying if I said that seeing your Dom side isn’t a turn-on.” Nanami beams at you, happy that he could make your dreams come true. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he chuckles. “We’ll have to make these lunch visits more of a frequent thing for us. Including the role-play.” 

You giggle in agreement and take his hands, allowing him to help you stand on your wobbly feet and weak knees. He then begins to fix his pants and adjust himself, putting his cock back in his briefs while you pull up your panties over your twitching, soaked pussy. “Oh, which reminds me!” you chirp. “The sandwich rolls are still downstairs in the employee fridge. I left them there in case our meeting got, um…lengthy.” 

Nanami smirks and curls his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Such a smart and sexy girl I’ve got,” he coos. “How was I so lucky to end up with you?” You place your hands on his bare chest, feeling his heart beat against your palms. “Guess it was just fate,” you reply, hopelessly in love with the man standing before you. Nanami smiles, silently agreeing with your statement. 

You then part and continue to get dressed, adjusting your clothes as to not make any of the employees aware that you two fucked in their boss’s office just now. “And you’re sure that Maki and Mai don’t suspect a thing?” you curiously ask as you fix your blouse, pouting at the two buttons that popped off. 

Nanami looks at you as he fixes his button-up, only fixing the first button before moving toward you. “No one knows I’m even dating anyone, Y/N,” he assures you with a kiss to your jawline. “I barely tell my team anything about what goes on outside this building. Don’t worry, no one knows that we’re–“ 

“Fucking!” Mai screams from outside the door, scaring the shit out of you. “They’re totally fucking, Maki! I told you!” 

“Mai, get away from the door!” Maki criticizes her sister. “That’s an invasion of privacy!” 

You turn to Nanami and beg him with your eyes to kill you if you don’t die of embarrassment first. He takes one look at the door before turning to you, his hands on his narrow hips. “Well, guess I’ll be looking for another assistant,” he sighs. “And a soundproofed door.” 

THE END.

[canisalbus]

You might have answered this before but is there any aus or routes where Machete doesn't get assassinated, and he and Vasco get to live somewhat happy lives together? Or is the heartbreak and tragedy always set in stone?

I think in order to avoid the bad ending he'd have to resign from his position and find something less distressing to do with his life. I'm not entirely sure how that works though, I believe relinquishing cardinalship for example is extremely unusual and a big deal even in modern times, usually you hold these titles until death, retiring isn't part of the plan. And since he's had to fight tooth and nail to get where he is and his sense of self-worth is tied to it, I find it hard to believe he'd have enough sense to just leave everything behind. Besides, he was saved, raised and trained by the church, in some way he must feel like he owes his life to it.

I feel like the modern au, not that such thing exists at the moment, would be relatively happy and free of drama and tragedy. Now that I'm thinking about it, the root of Machete's problems must be health issues. In present times he wouldn't get left behind for being weak and ill so he wouldn't have any specific reason to pursue ecclesiastical career. I don't know what job he'd land but I don't think he'd be a priest. Having access to modern medicine and diagnostics would certainly help a ton, no more bloodletting, valerian root and laudanum for him. I see no reason why he and Vasco wouldn't be happily married. They'd probably travel a bunch and have a habit of frequenting snobby little bistros and overpriced restaurants. Machete would drag Vasco to museums, theatre and opera. He'd still be workaholic but with the additional boost of very strong coffee. Vasco would own some sort of garish Italian sports car. He'd be good at cooking and baking. He'd still ride horses. Maybe he'd be an avid football fan even.

[maleficentmrsofallevil]

In a hole; still digging

Something I didn't mention in two prior posts about Luts: as I've said (ad nauseum), I've been a BJD collector for a few years now. With BJD collecting, there's a lot of - let's call it opaqueness. Den of Angels used to be the foremost authority on all things BJD, and honestly, while there have been tons of theories as to why the forum has lost popularity, I would point to one major factor: when image hosting stopped being free on Photobucket. Seems like as soon as Photobucket ended that particular perk, folks moved to free spaces like Instagram.

But I digress. The point is - this is a seriously niche hobby, and information is thin on the ground. Sometimes, you have to take clues from patterns you see, and after collecting for a few years, I've learned to view deviations from those patterns with a bit of suspicion.

For example: when a company only shows pictures of a doll's face fully painted (no blank photos), and the face is always pointed downwards, I will no longer buy. I need to see front and side/profile pictures of the blank sculpt. Otherwise, I'll get a head with a jarring feature (usually a poorly sculpted nose) that I do NOT like.

If the doll is always dressed, or posed with fancy fabric or props that conceal the joints (especially the knees), I will no longer buy. Chances are decent I'm going to get a doll that doesn't pose well.

Another pattern I've noticed is that the big, established companies tend to sell only their own dolls, and no one else's. Some examples:

Fairyland

Iplehouse:

Dreaming Doll:

There are two reasons I never ordered a doll directly from Luts. 1) There wasn't a sculpt that I just had to have, and damn the consequences (i.e., price).

2) I hesitated because...:

Luts has a "Brand Doll" tab that looks like a doll dealer tab. That's a LOT of brands that aren't Luts. I've seen doll dealers that carry fewer brands.

One of the things I've been told repeatedly is that doll companies are more like studios or machine shops. You are dealing directly with the people who make the dolls. Frequently, it's a 3-4 person operation. They tend to be a little rougher around the edges, and there isn't a dedicated customer service department. (Which is why folks who need customer service should order from dealers.)

So... how does Luts have time to be a dealer for all these other doll companies, and make their own dolls?

Even though I am almost certainly hated by Luts doll collectors, I would like to assert AGAIN that Luts makes gorgeous dolls. I just disagree with how the newer bodies are engineered. Considering the numerous other brands Luts offers for sale on their website? I don't think I'm alone.

Others are likely afraid to say anything bad (small hobby - word travels fast - people get pissed). I OTOH am a cranky old broad who has no issue throwing my big bull ass around the BJD china shop.

ONE HUGE EXCEPTION: VOLKS

Volks is the OG of BJDs. Volks is the GOAT of BJDs. Volks invented BJDs. Volks started life as a hobby company, and BJDs were incorporated into the business. If you're brand spanking new to the hobby and willing to drop a grand or two on a new doll, Volks offers the BEST new collector experience. My first Volks purchase was a dress, and I was stunned by the thought and care that went into the construction. I watched someone unbox a new doll from Volks, and when I then saw a used, complete SD one-off doll on Mandarake for under $600, I snapped it up. It was from 2009 and worth every penny of what I paid.

I completely understand why some people are loyal to and buy from Volks only. Buying a new Volks doll is like buying a new luxury car. Other companies... well, they're a bit more like DIY kit cars sometimes. Which I like! But I don't recommend for new collectors.

I don't shill for Volks because of the price. That's a lot of cheddar to expect from someone who knows nothing about these dolls.

[air--so--sweet]

Okay I already made one post about Klaus's rehab 'accessories' sold as part of a TUA prop auction and there's a lot of cool stuff but I can't post about everything, as much as I would like to, but there's one more thing I thought was worth singling out, Reginald Hargreeve's journal from season 2.

Transcription:

I have finally arrived at my destination. The journey was lengthy and arduous, far more taxing than any of my expeditions back home. Few of my fellows were prepared for the physical and emotional demands of the trip. The close quarters, the strict rations, the seemingly nonexistent passage of time. One could easily succumb to insanity or death in such a fate. I carry Abigail in my heart, her tenacious spirit and altruistic nature. She would not allow me to stay behind and perish with her, and in turn I will not allow her to die with me.

It took a ludicrously short span of time to determine my new home is a filthy, foolish and depraved place. I find it hardly worthy of saving, despite my commitment to doing so. Why should I have abandoned my Abigail for the sake of countless souls, not one of which could even hope to match her selfless grace? But I know she would admonish me for these thoughts, and tell me to recognise the value in all who reside in this despondent place.

It will take decades to see my plan to fruition. I enacted the very first step prior to embarking on my journey and now I can do little more than await the date of its engenderment. In the meantime I will commence building an identity, empire and legacy in my own right. My singular priority in the years to come is to ensure access to the resources (both material and intangible) to successfully implement the final phase. I am resolved to make Abigail proud.

There's so much interesting stuff in here. Firstly the implication that Reginald Hargreeves is not the only one from his planet on Earth. I don't think we'll learn anything about or see the other aliens, but I do wonder what they were getting up to while Reggie was doing his thing. Honestly I think it wpuld be funny for a throwaway allusion to some of them being certain public figures.

He knew before he came to Earth it needed saving. It's unclear from phrasing if he chose to do this or was tasked with it. And why him and seemingly only him if he was not the only one to travel to Earth? Or was the plan always save the world and then use hotel oblivion and the 7 bells to remake it with Abigail by his side? In season 1, having failed, did he choose to kill himself to reunite the academy to at least complete one part of his plan, having failed at the rest? A last ditch attempt to honour Abigail's memory? Hotel Oblivion was more or less off the table as soon as Ben died (which in a way makes ut funnier Klaus frequented Hotel Obsidian when he was on the streets, it literally just became a hotel and nothing more 😂).

That brings me onto the next thing - his love for Abigail. This is the most affection we've ever seen from Hargreeves I think (and the least creepy since the closest example I can think of was him creating a robot mother in his ex-girlfriend's likeness). Though saying he doesn't see why he should abandon her to save all life on earth is a tiny bit concerning. His description of Abigail as altruistic and saying that she would admonish him for not seeing the value in the lives of humans is definitely interesting (also I cant help but feel the choice of saying 'selfless grace' over 'selfness nature' or similar was intentional, not that it means anything, just a fun play on words). I saw a theory forever ago (I believe on reddit but I'm not sure, if I find it I'll edit and add credit) that in season 4 Abigail will leave Reginald when she learns what he did to bring her back and the way he describes her here it doesn't sound like she would be okay with the cruel and abusive treatment of his children followed by him sucking them of their powers and seemingly life force to revive her (though the fact Luther is alive it's possible he planned to reincarnate all of them in the new universe but y'know, maybe make Allison aware so she doesn't chop your head in half before you fully finish building your new universe). The Reginald who wrote this journal entry bears hallmarks of the one we knew, but he seems to have been somewhat tempered by Abigail. Did the decades without her cause a hardening that led to the cold, cruel and abusive man he became? A man Abigail will no longer recognise as the man she fell in love with? Based on this it doesn't seem unlikely but, as far as I recall, these entries are never seen on screen so I don't think we can really count them as canon, especially not knowing who wrote them (I suspect it was someone on the writing staff but we don't know that for certain). However, I vaguely remember seeing a few claims of a new big bad several places, I think people may have sourced this from an interview with Steve Blackman (I intentionally avoid interviews with him because he gives far too much away) which, if the main villain of the piece is not in fact Hargreeves, Abigail, the love of his life and his whole reason for his lifes work leaving him, feels like a pretty good catalyst for him to give up, and possibly even yield to anything the Umbrellas ask of him or maybe even help them?

And lastly, when writing this I couldn't help but think how Reginald's loss of Abigail mirrors several of the Umbrella's own losses. His deal with Allison involved getting Ray and her daughter back and there's been a lot of people wondering if Dave, Sissy, Harlan or even Patch could be alive in this new universe. Allison's words to Viktor before pressing the button, 'Trust me,' and the fact we didn't see her make the deal with Reginald (beyond the handshake Five saw through the doorway) has made me wonder if it didn't just involve her getting to be reunited with her lost loved ones but her siblings too (though my housemate suggested the alternative idea that she made a deal for herself and Viktor only, as he is the only other Umbrella to lose a romantic partner and child, a loss Allison is partially responsible for, having killed adult Harlan, and he's also the sibling Allison was cruelest to in season 3). Would Hargreeves have agreed to the terms of any deal if it meant getting his way? Yeah probably, but I also feel like he might have been more willing to agree to Allison's terms if they involved reuniting her and her siblings with the people they loved who they had to leave for reasons outside of their control (Ray, Sissy and Harlan) or they lost to death (Dave, Harlan (again) and Patch, and in a sense Claire). I feel like I'm giving Hargreeves too much credit but at the same time there's moments in the show that could be interpreted as him caring for the Umbrellas and I do believe he cared for human Grace and Pogo too so it's not impossible that he's capable of empathy, at least at times where it wouldn't negatively impact him or stop him from doing what he believes is right (though just to be clear - any care or love he felt does not in any way absolve him of the cruelty and abuse he subjected his children to or the fact he subjected Pogo to a life of servitude either).

It's just occurred to me that there's the whole additional layer in regards the apocalypse that Reginald was aware of it and wanted to avert it yet he was the cause of it as without his interference the Umbrellas (and other super powered children) would never have been born, never mind his treatment of them, especially Viktor, leading to them growing into the adults they were that led to their actions causing the apocalypse. I've already spent several hours and a tonne of hyperfocus writing this though when I have other real world stuff to do so I'm going to leave it here.

[utilitycaster]

I've seen you talk about found family dynamics a few times and how its often abused in fandom and I know Bells Hells in no way fits this trope but I was wondering about your thoughts on Vox Machina and Mighty Nein within the dynamic or if it doesn't fit those groups either.

Hey anon,

So here's the thing: I actually think the bigger issue is that most people make a lot of incorrect assumptions that a found family is automatically functional and healthy and loving and ignore that simply because it is a family born of choice rather than birth. D&D parties are often found families, but they are also often a bunch of deeply traumatized weirdos who met by chance in a tavern, which is not precisely a recipe for the most well-adjusted dynamic. People can make terrible choices of family just as easily as they can be born into a dysfunctional or abusive family.

A lot of people also equate found family with "they need to stay together forever in the equivalent of the avengers' mansion" which is similarly not true. What is a family? It is an (often) lifelong bond; but the people within the family still also have their own lives outside of it, and might live apart while still loving each other very much. They also often forget or try to disparage the idea that characters can belong to a found family while still also having families by marriage or blood outside of it and might need to make compromises to balance the two, even though this is again a very true thing of families in the real world.

The cast of Critical Role generally gets this; the fans don't always. Quoting from episode 1x85 for the second time in like 12 hours but as Keyleth said, "I think Percy's right. We're worse than friends, we're family. And family leaves." I can't entirely define a found family - it is ultimately a vibe, and it is ultimately subjective - but I actually think Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein are both found families.

What's always been very revealing to me is that no one ever really disputes Vox Machina is a family, even though from the end of Campaign 1 until the TCSR was published over four years later, in early 2022, it was assumed that they were all living separately or in couples - Percy and Vex in Whitestone; Keyleth in Zephrah; Scanlan and Pike in Westruun; Tary in Wildemount; and Grog traveling the world but often finding himself in either Vasselheim or Westruun. Indeed, even with the TCSR and the fact that everyone has residences in Whitestone, Keyleth does usually live in Zephrah (though she can easily travel); Vex must spend time away from both the others of Vox Machina and her actual family by marriage and blood given her duties in Emon; and Scanlan splits his time between Whitestone and Ank'Harel. Perhaps it's that there were already familial bonds between the twins and between Pike and Grog, and that only Tary dated outside the party and the people who make this claim often forget him anyway.

People do frequently argue the Mighty Nein are not a family for parting ways at the end, despite this being no different than Vox Machina, and also actually being far more able to reunite quickly than Vox Machina can. I think it's in part because several party members (Veth, Jester, Caduceus) all did still very much value their biological families and a lot of found family people really do not like that, but also...look. Most Campaign 2 hate is a front for either being mad that Molly wasn't resurrected or being mad about one or more of the ships. I've never seen anyone whose only complaint was "I felt like it was a found family but then they parted ways"; it's always thrown in on top of being far more angry about several other things.

For what it's worth: I don't think Bells Hells are quite as bonded, but I do think they're on their way, especially if travel and communication remains messy and they're forced to spend more time on watch and sharing rooms (again: I think Matt's vision for this campaign is, in retrospect, actually pretty great, but it should have probably been communicated a bit better to the cast and more investment have been put in the character development to compensate for the challenges of this unique structure). My issue specific to the fandom response to Bells Hells as a found family isn't that I think they're not going to be a found family; it's that people who insisted they actually had the best and most honest found family dynamic and everyone who disagreed were just being haters suddenly turned on the proverbial dime when a character not in their good graces was the one who actually voiced it.

In summary: I think people in fandom, generally, place a disproportionate weight on found family as like...an end all and be all and forget that much like a family of blood/marriage/adoption, a found family can also take on many different configurations and have various levels of functionality and honestly and healthy behaviors; and in doing so forget to actually say "is this dynamic of closely bonded people fun to watch and interesting? then who cares what the fuck we call it." But I do think it's hard for a D&D party in a longform campaign of very close friends not to take on some familial traits.

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Would Childe and Zhongli ever go outside of Liyue? Like. I’m sure they’re not like, unable to leave, but would they get the chance to often? Would Childe be a lot more free to explore and set up his network, or would it be slowly, over time, starting with people who came to Liyue and him excitedly talking to them about it? Would he go to Enkanomiya to see what it was like when it wasn’t just ruins?

(On the Enkanomiya note- I’m just picturing someone asking him about it and him casually talking about all the lore he remembers. Like the sun children, the vishaps, the blood coral experiments- and then realizing haha oh right that’s kind of horrifying I’m glad we’re opening that barrier a lot sooner-)

i feel like between the two of them, childe would definitely travel far more. either on his own or with an assortment of other people, but he'd be a relatively frequent traveler – like if he doesn't leave for too long he'll sometimes be like "yeah i'm going to mondstadt for a bit i'll be back by dinner" at least once a month? but for the longer trips i imagine he'd do those like three times a year or something. occasionally morax would go with him, mainly on short-to-long trips if he's curious about where he's going or if he's feeling particularly clingy. i don't think morax would necessarily travel all that much on his own, i feel like he's pretty content just staying in liyue n looking over the people. and yeah childe would travel all over teyvat for tourism. you won't catch him leaving a single inch of the map unexplored.

i think the network would be set overtime for sure. like every other trip childe would chat with someone n end the convo all happy like 'do let me know if you hear anything!'. like all very casual. like- i think the reason why it would grow so large and so unseen for so long is bc it's hyper-casual, nobody in it really feels like they're in any sort of massive spy network even though they kind of are. like they all know their gossip gets back to childe, but they don't see it as a major information network. it's just childe! and it's just random useless gossip!

but thousands-of-people-all-across-teyvat worth of random useless gossip isn't a trifling matter anymore lmao

also yes the first time childe comes back from enka with the skirks and sits down for dinner with guizhong and morax and older skirk he'd be like- "it's so much neater than i expected it would be! everything looks so much better lit up and straight-up. i'm so glad we didn't have to go tredging through the dark and the monsters and stuff. also very relieved about our timing, i don't think they started killing kids yet" and guizhong particularly would sit there like: "what-"

[artsycervidae]

I wrote a short story for @eidolonshiva 's OC Fumiko, because her design is gorgeous and I couldn't stop thinking about her. I vibe heavily with deeply hurt and misguided characters and support women's wrongs.

General Content Warnings: Violence and gore (specifically: dismemberment, dragging, choking, and vivisecting), horror stings/tropes, graphic imagery, on-screen death, cannibalism, and toxic dynamics between the Shabana siblings and Fumiko.

It's under 5k words. Enjoy!

    "Fumiko," Daki pouted, holding her hand out. "Pass me the tanzashi pins." Her fingers flexed urgently. Without delay, Fumiko guided glinting gold accessories into the oiran's grasp.

     "Here you are, Warabihime Oiran," the attendant cooed obligingly. Using that professional alias always prompted the courtesan to don a little self-satisfied smile, and Fumiko's heart lightened a little. "It looks beautiful," she added when Daki turned her head to admire the structure of her bundled hairstyle. "Your client will be stunned speechless."

     "I know," Daki replied, sounding as though she didn't need to be told, though sweet words were the very reason the lesser demon was welcome to her space. She rose to her feet, and Fumiko needed no prompting; she too stood and plucked the black-and-white haori from its stand, gliding the fabric easily over the oiran's arms. Fumiko ensured the wrinkles were minimal by delicately straightening it across the back. A stray onyx lock was ready to spill from Daki's hair but Fumiko discreetly tucked it behind a pin, covering her tracks with a little smile over the oiran's shoulder. "All done. You look perfect."

     Daki watched through the reflection as her friend smoothed and straightened the silk sleeves. She 'helpfully' extended her arm suddenly, catching Fumiko by the ribs and startling the other demon. "Fumiko," she whined, sweetness lacing her voice, "How much do you know about Ukita Haru?"

     Fumiko froze, unexpectedly thrown back into a different time and place. Daki watched how her thick brows lifted, her full lips parting in a ghost of a gasp as the name struck a chord. Bringing up the past was a sensitive subject, but the lesser demon couldn't bring herself to deny Daki anything she asked for. Even if that meant reopening old wounds.

     "Not much, as he wasn't a fellow herbalist," Fumiko admitted. "But his family helped finance various apothecaries and pharmacies, specifically those specializing in natural remedies... I remember that. He is well-traveled across Japan. He'll make for engaging, intelligent company." 

     Pleased with the other's obedience, Daki went on. "I want to convince him to make Kyogoku House an exclusive customer," she revealed. "Likewise, I would like our tea house to give him special attention. His connections stretch across the country, and I'm sure that even if he doesn't have what I seek, he will be a useful asset. What do you think?" Her mouth curled at the corners, ambient eyes glinting with ambition. 

    Fumiko cleared her throat and ignored the tingling discomfort that danced up and down her body; the same crawling feeling that preceded long nights of terrible thoughts. Instead of addressing it, she clarified, "This is the new client, right? The one that used to frequent Tokito House." 

     Daki sighed heavily, like it taxed her to be reminded of droll preparations. "It is. Koinatsu only entertained him twice before, and I don't blame her. He honestly wasn't even worth the effort of stealing. He's so bland, and she's nearly at the prime of her beauty." But Daki would be patient-- Koinatsu's time would come. She was far too early in her career to be harvested now, as a girl like that could easily be an oiran one day... What mattered presently was the target. "Am I wasting my time with this man, or do you think he could provide valuable information? Does he know all there is about Japan's flora?"

     "I'm afraid I never met him personally," Fumiko said. It was an unfortunate convenience; she wanted to be helpful, but... she had a hard time as it was trying to put those things out of her mind. It was difficult enough to get through the night without seeing familiar shadows attached to total strangers. She swallowed down the idea of diving into the memories of sunnier days... it made her crave a smoke. "I'll think about it," she promised the oiran. "I suppose you could ask him such questions yourself during this meeting, and we can compare our thoughts on him. If he doesn't fulfill your expectations, you can simply command that he seek another woman for his appointments."

    Daki huffed, and for a moment Fumiko was prepared to launch into emergency protocol: if Gyutaro were rudely awakened to one of his little sister's meltdowns, his attitude would sour instantly and there would be hell to pay. Even the most helpful suggestion could be misinterpreted as bossing around, and Fumiko feared she had gotten too comfortable. "I hate that!" Daki whined instead. "I hate working to get a man to notice me, only to find out he's utterly useless. It's bad enough he's so plain, Fumiko! I swear, if he tells a single unfunny joke and expects me to laugh for him, I'll open his throat." She crossed her arms, rumpling her kimono layers and undoing all Fumiko's preening. This pouting was performative-- she expected further pampering.

     "Now now," Fumiko hummed pleasantly. "If you think nasty thoughts so early in your work, they're liable to spill out of your head and mouth." She rubbed Daki's back, pressing her sharp nails into the fabric for a comforting pressure. "You don't have to see him if you don't want to." Then she began to tidy Daki's clothes once more. "You're beautiful, sophisticated, educated, and classy. He is just a man, and to hang expectations on him is unfair from the start." With a playful smile, Fumiko teased, "You're completely out of his league." 

     The Upper Rank sighed and shook her head. "You're right. It has to be done, though I deserve so much better." Even with power in her hands, she was dragging her heels through the process of attaining his good graces. She had to tolerate it further. Just until she could find the sharpest knife to strike fear into his heart with, rather than rely on fickle affections. What she really wanted was reassurance that mere compliments couldn't provide. "Fumiko," she fussed again, using that helpless and needy tone that the kamuros often affected, "Stay, won't you? Wait outside for me if you like, but remain close in case something goes wrong. My big brother is still sleeping, and I can't bear to be alone if this all falls through." It was more that she had invested all her time and energy into this project, and she was ready to be done with it. She wanted the immediate gratification of success. If this was a dead end, she didn't want to undo all that work herself. Leave someone else to clean her messes.

     "Of course." No threats, no needling, no persuasion required. Fumiko clasped Daki's fair hands between hers, fondly smiling into the oiran's face. "If anything happens, I'll be there." This was what Daki especially loved about Fumiko: the lesser demon would do anything for her. Without Gyutaro around, there was nobody to scold Daki for taking the easy route and making others do her bidding. But even if he made an unexpected appearance, he couldn't bring himself to pitch a fit about Fumiko's doting obedience. It was her best quality, they both agreed.

    With Fumiko's support, Daki proceeded to meet with Ukita Haru, herbologist and nobleman. As promised, the lesser demon accompanied her as the oiran's attendant. Though she wasn't privy to their personal discussion, she was the one running orders from Warabihime to the rest of the house. Fumiko had learned her new role quickly. Working in a tea house was not so different from running a medical practice, though they had their own forms of customer service; both demanded comfort and cleanliness. She'd hoped that assisting Daki that night would keep her fretful mind distracted, saw no such luck. 

     After delivering the party's tea, she sat by the shoji door and slid it closed. The hallway was empty, if just for the time. Free of observers, Fumiko fled for a private moment. Back when she was freshly transformed, she would have had to find a balcony to scale like a lizard in order to reach her rooftop perch. Now that she was eating more than carrion, it was as simple as stepping from the ground up into the stars, landing gracefully on the shingles. Corpses were human meat all the same, but void of the most potent nutrient any demon needed: stolen life.

     She could vaguely hear the murmured discussion in the room below, as Daki had kindly thought to open the exterior door to the terrace. "What a beautiful night," she heard the oiran exclaim, establishing her motive plainly. But as she returned to her client, their voices blurred together. Fumiko settled comfortably and peered out over the district of glowing lights as she rolled up her sleeves. She wafted her fingers through the air, and her kiseru materialized into her palm. It had been a good idea to carry her incense ball on her person tonight; her hands shook as she packed the pipe. Once sparked, Fumiko took a steady pull from the wisteria-laced concoction, filling her lungs with toxic fumes. 

    Though her biology fought to cleanse itself of poisoning, it never worked quite the way it was supposed to. She closed her eyes, held the breath, then exhaled slowly, allowing her nerves to curl and dissipate like floral smoke. The voice downstairs wasn't all too unfamiliar. But she couldn't muster much beyond a name. "Ukita Haru," she repeated softly. Nothing of use resurfaced, only the memory of someone else's face: a man's dark hair, firm square jaw, and familiarly heavy brows... She shoved that image away, took another hit, and breathed it out. "Ukita... Haru." She tried to remember that name in context of 'work.'

     A sharper image came to her-- her father's hands shuffling aside business notes, moving to see how Fumiko weighed and crushed the ingredients to make a more potent and effective salve. She scrubbed the memory clean and took another pull, this one less steady as she would have liked. She sniffed and dabbed at her eye with her right hand-- she and Daki had spent much time on their makeup, and at least that awareness still stood out to her in this phantom grief. Her left hand tapped the kiseru empty of ashes over the street. She remembered how her dad sounded when he complimented her adaptation; how good it felt, when she saw him make those changes a permanent process.

     If only she could have been so useful all the time. What value was her knowledge of the natural world when it didn't fulfill the needs of those she admired most? Why was it that when Daki needed a simple answer, Fumiko couldn't bring herself to know it? Even as she tried her best, tried to pick through the shards of her old life for something to salvage... in the end, all she could do was sit, and smoke, and listen. It was, in a way, a relief that this was a failure: she could stop looking over her shoulder to what she couldn't go back to.

      She lost count as to how many times she lit her kiseru, only realizing this when she peered back into her incense ball and saw that her stash was down to fine powders. She ran her finger along the side to pinch out every last bit for one last smoke, and it was then she noticed the soft bruise-like coloration under her nails. She paused and rubbed her fingers closer to her eyes... the purple tinge remained. The exterior door slid closed with a snap, startling her. That was early-- or had she lost track of time? She quickly hid her smoking utensils, shook out her hair, and returned to the hallway; but in her haste, she had entirely forgotten to make herself presentable. Warabihime glided out of the room, a contemplative frown on her face at the sight of Fumiko's disheveled top.

     A heavy blanket of dread smothered the atmosphere of the hallway, even when Fumiko swiftly tucked her clothes into place. She had only seen Daki quietly furious this way during vicious arguments with her brother, when the barbs got personal-- she stole an angry glance into the room, daring to peek at the face of a man who dared displease the most beautiful woman in the district. He looked nothing like her father-- he was average all around. Daki had said it best: plain and bland. Fumiko fell into step behind the oiran to her private quarters. She ached for distraction from her rooftop musings, but dare not break the silence until her company did first. "Fumiko," Daki murmured, "a flower is like a woman. She cannot bloom beautifully without the appropriate sun and nutrients." This was not to be debated or discussed. It was the part they played when privacy wasn't assured, the wise and beautiful oiran teaching her pupil a valuable observation. Fumiko couldn't help but indulge the stronger demon.

     "Yes, Oiran."

     "The spider lily," she went on, as Fumiko paid rapt attention, "is especially like a woman. With delicate petals and stamen, it only blooms for a small window of time. When these flowers grow too close together in similar conditions, they compete for these resources and it lessens their beauty. Their survival becomes entangled. Which means the best way to ensure a perfect flower is to focus on the most promising, and nurture it to bloom."

     "Yes, Oiran." Fumiko threw all her presence into Daki's words. She was stronger than she used to be, thanks for these valuable learning lessons. It only made sense that she repay the favor, and the least she could do was nurture.

     "You see," Daki said, "A proper spider lily can only be at its most beautiful when it is worshipped. Ukita Haru said as much. Generous donations of both sunlight and water, more than other species of flora, and all the attention one could--" she noticed when Fumiko's brow twitched upward. The oiran halted in her tracks. "What is it?"

     "I'm sorry," Fumiko said, "I don't mean to interrupt. Did he... tell you that, in those words? About the sun and water?"

     "Yes. He did."

     Well then. A heat prickled at the back of Fumiko's neck, offended on behalf of Daki. "I'm afraid he's misled you, Oiran," she said, disguising the disgust broiling in her mind. She was no florist, but her familiarity with the lily's poisonous nature came from a life of knowledge and experience. "Bulbs rot in too much water. Areas of excessive rain will not help a spider lily thrive."

     They turned the corner, and Fumiko could feel Daki's shifting temperament, like energy in the air before a lightning strike. "I see," she answered slowly. "Regardless-- if an herbalist puts his focus on the less beautiful flower, then perhaps by early autumn, he'll be blessed with two beautiful blossoms. But if he fails, then he will only have dull, lifeless colors. A clump of weeds..."

     Fumiko blinked in surprise. "He rejected you?!" she hissed scathingly. Yes, Koinatsu was an incredible courtesan, but... for Warabihime to offer her time and company was inargubly an improvement! The oiran went out of her way for this man, and he decided he didn't want her? He lied to her, and then turned her away?!

     Daki sniffed as Fumiko opened the door to her room, and the stronger demon stepped inside before opening her arms. Fumiko moved to relieve Daki's shoulders of heavy fabric, but she found herself suddenly seized. She gasped in equal parts fear and pain-- the Upper Rank glared down at her ally, baring her teeth.

     "He's a fool!" Daki barked, her mood erupting once everything had been registered. She squeezed her eyes shut to clamp down bitter, shamed tears. "What does he know about lilies?! How dare he waste my time with meaningless words." And then, her voice pitched into a broken note. "How dare he give me inaccurate information! Me!" 

     Fumiko knew a hissy fit when she saw one. She held Daki in return, albeit with much more consideration and tenderness, nodding erratically to emphasize how much she understood. "I can't believe he mistreated you like this. I won't let it go unaddressed. What do you want to do, Daki?"

      The Kizuki's eyes snapped open, sparked alight with new bloodthirst-- her pupils contorted into their respective calligraphic forms. "Kill him!" Daki commanded. "Before he leaves the district. Kill him before he can even regret what a mistake he's made."

     All at once, Fumiko felt ill. She knew this was where the night would lead, but she had wanted it to happen all the same. The heady feeling reached a point of utter bliss. The back of her head cracked, her hair parting easily as a long, wet muscle swiped the air. "Yes, Oiran." And though she dreaded what lay ahead, Fumiko couldn't ignore the thrum of excitement that resonated in her intoxicated body. 

-----

     Ukita Haru wasn't happy with how that appointment ended. He hoped that after a long walk, he could clear his mind and return to bed feeling more assured. But no matter what he did, he couldn't help lingering in all his bad decisions.

     There was no denying it: he was in love with Koinatsu. He had found a woman who could very well be a future jewel oiran, but he had driven her away with selfish jealousy. She playfully said that if he wanted all her time to himself, he could ask her to marry him. He really ought to have. He should have fallen to his knees and promised her his whole life. But his pride had been tender, and he hated being called on his bluff. He hadn't been a gentleman with his words.

     It was a wonder that she didn't have him banned from her tea house altogether. But it had taken days of petulant pouting to see his good fortune. It felt like he woke up only then, in the throes of discussion with Warabihime Oiran from Kyogoku House, and realized what he had spoilt. As he answered Warabihime's questions about spider lily types and care, he found himself in Tokito House instead. When Warabihime gazed at him, he thought of looking into warmer, deeper eyes. When she laughed, he heard someone else's mirth. Here he was, the very definition of success... and he was unhappy. 

     He could have all the money, flowers, and women in Japan. But without Koinatsu, he may as well be destitute. 

     It wasn't Warabihime's fault. He made it clear that he had a lovely time with her. She was a beautiful woman with an intense aura around her-- too passionate for him, in fact. He didn't want future appointments. He had a lot of work to do, if it meant building trust with Koinatsu again, and he couldn't be distracted. 

     Haru walked away from the busier district streets, seeking a quiet refuge to simmer in his thoughts. He had to start by making it up to her-- no, first he would apologize. A letter. Would a gift seem too much like a bribe, or could its sincerity help drive his point across? No doubt, simply announcing his desire to marry Koinatsu would be the wrong move. He couldn't unload all that onto her just yet. 

    He took another turn and stopped midstep. A woman was directly in the center of the path. It struck him as unusual that she should be alone, and in the dark no less--

     'Ashinuke,' he realized suddenly. A runaway courtesan. She had to be-- he recognized her at least, and he tried to remember exactly where he had seen her before. Tokito? Kyogoku? Somehow, none of them seemed right... How could she have gotten so far away without anyone else noticing? 

     She slowly turned. Before he could get a proper look at her, she exhaled a long pillar of smoke. Though this obscured her face, he had the distinct feeling that she was watching him. He didn't want to get dragged into another tea house's troubles, so he pretended he hadn't seen her, continuing along his path. But when he came to the next turn, there she was again... not a similar woman. Not an illusion. It was her. She was right there, lifting a hibiscus-charmed pipe to her lips like before. This time, she faced him.

      Perhaps it was better to simply turn around the way he came. Though the stranger was just a woman, his skin crawled at the eery emptiness of the roads. He couldn't put it into words: he just had a gut feeling that he didn't want to be caught alone with her.

     As if reading his thoughts, she suddenly sprinted at him. Haru bolted, spinning around before immediately tripping backwards.

     Black sclera and full moon eyes stared him down-- he fell back on his ass, too frightened to even shout. His palms and rear stung with pain, and his wrist especially throbbed when all his weight teetered onto it-- his body was jerked by the throat in a semi-circle, snared by something powerful yet slippery like an oiled bicep. The woman exhaled and tapped her kiseru, the hibiscus dancing, mocking his tremorous gasps. She coyly glanced over her shoulder like she had just noticed his suffering. The more he choked, the more air escaped from his lungs. He clawed at what trapped him to no avail, his tongue lolling out between his teeth. "What?" She drawled, her mouth curling into a cruel smirk, "you don't like the chase anymore?" 

     Haru's vision had begun to blur as his hands pawed with futility at the air, at his throat. "... No?" she taunted. "What if I go easy on you?" She continued to speak, but all meaning to those noises left his mind. "She told me to make it quick. But I do hate such an unfair task. I'll give you a chance to escape." There was no comprehension in his darting eyes. Nothing in his brain but the deafening beat of his heart and screaming of his nerves. All of a sudden, he gasped and coughed-- he fell to his knees, heaving oxygen into his lungs. Saliva dribbled out of his mouth and all down his front, and he realized how nonsensical that was. It wasn't strictly his drool along his throat. His shoulders were nearly drenched with slick fluid.

"Five," she drawled, her thick eyelashes fluttering as she turned away from him. The pink appendage-- a tongue he saw-- leered at him from the back of her head. The gap it protruded from sneered rows of razor-sharp teeth.

     "Four," she said, and he knew he was looking at a futakuchi-onna, and that she was giving him a headstart. He turned and scrambled at the dirt, clambering to his feet as he wheezed. 

     "Three--"

      He drew in a sharp breath to scream for help. But when his other leg swung forward to catch his stride, he found himself collapsing, pain crashing down on him like a tsunami wave. It started with that leg. When he tried to push himself off the ground, his arm crunched and twisted out from beneath him, and he was flipped supine with a ferocious wrench. Then he was yanked sharply by his remaining leg, dragged house after house after house with his skull skipping off the path before his leg finally separated from his body. 

     It had taken three limbs too long before Haru truly understood what was happening, beyond the animalistic fear of death. She lied. She was toying with him. The tongue sprouting from the woman's occipital lobe held his leg in righteous victory, curling and constricting like a snake. Hot blood streamed out at an angle, dripping over her face-- no doubt ruining her makeup, though that was now just an inkling at the back of her mind.

      Her cheeks ached from her smile, blood and adrenaline coursing through her body like a completed current.

     Haru's leg folded and was lowered steadily behind the woman where it disappeared. The demon mouth devoured his flesh with a sickening grinding and cracking that Haru had never known before. In her hands, she held his remaining body parts. He began to scream. But she had taken him so far so quickly that there couldn't possibly be anyone nearby to hear or help. And those who had heard... they knew better than to acknowledge what haunted the dark.

     Fumiko relished the feast as much as the hunt-- her body was in complete control despite the distance of her overthinking mind. Content as a cat, stimulated and engaged with the challenge. Mortals could only live so long while bleeding out from three dismemberments, so she started by pinching the messiest arteries closed. Haru wailed like a baby, although she had spared him death by another few seconds perhaps.

     Since he was being so ungrateful, she decided to flay his body slowly, dermis layer after dermis layer. It kept him awake to bear witness as she picked him apart. He writhed and cried when her nails began to peel back fluffy fat and marbled meat. With the practiced knowledge of an anatomist, she dug right down to the most tender organs, the ones that wouldn't kill him immediately, at least. Already, his movements were becoming softer, sluggish little twitches and rabbit kicks of shock. The only noise in the air was the occasional wet smacking of Haru's full-body flails, and Fumiko's skull buzzing with opium, wisteria, and gore.

     "Well now," a familiar voice creaked, a hot breath puffing on the back of her neck. Fumiko froze, her demon mouth mid-chew, all too aware of the awful mess she was making. He couldn't have woken up earlier, when her makeup had been pristine and her mind had been whole? She lowered her eyes and lifted her sleeve to her face, trying to tidy the blood without being too obvious. "You look like you're enjoying yourself." 

     "Gyutaro," she uttered, shooting a look his way. His heavy-lidded eyes burned holes into hers, lips split into a wild grin. "Good evening. It's kind of you to," she swallowed unnoticably, "check on me." She suppressed her beating heart's wishes, even though she knew exactly where his mind went when it was just the two of them.

     Haru didn't count as being present, due to the fact he was now dead.

    "I heard that someone told my little sister she wasn't good enough for him. She was bawling so loud she could have woken the dead. Imagine my surprise when she said you were already defending her honor." And, after a pause, "You've been doing it again, haven't you?" He didn't sound too annoyed, but Fumiko got a chill anyway. She resisted the instinct to jump when she felt his hand on the other side of her face-- he had reached around her to smear his fingers along her still-bloodied cheek, keeping his face near enough that his teeth could rip out her esophagus. Not that it would end her life. But it made for a powerful reminder.

     "Yes," she admitted, stepping right onto the blatantly marked trap, tipping her face into his hand. There was no use in lying: it would only make him angrier. Her stomach tightened with fear and anticipation both, awaiting the punishment. 

     She was surprised when he only nodded. He was in a good mood. "I heard he tried to pull a fast one on her," he went on, "and that you shut that shit down." Another trap. He would nudge her those little congratulatory herrings before, and she learned not to rely on them. These games made her smarter, and she loved him for it. 

     "I did." Simple acceptance. If she tried to coax any further praise, it would be rescinded just as quickly. "What will you have me do with his body?" 

     "What's left of it you mean?" He corrected. Then his voice dipped into a warning. "You should really ask permission before you eat. What if I had thoughtfully brought you something?"

     "You're right. I'm sorry." It didn't matter if Daki would have allowed it, and probably would have preferred there be no discoverable body. Unless she was given that explicit order, the weaker demon had no defense to stand on. Fumiko needed to be more careful dancing the line between 'ambitious' and 'willful.' "I take full responsibility. How shall I make it up to you?"

     That was what he liked to hear-- and though she wouldn't have blamed him, or even minded if he'd taken his rage out on her, she practically melted when his fingers shifted along her cheekbone in a gentle pat. "Remember that for next time," he advised. It was perhaps the most pragmatic and merciful he was capable of being. "Now get back to the House. There's word of strangely-dressed men in the area," and his mouth quirked into a different smile. It was the one that changed his visage completely, and made Fumiko wish he would be returning home with her instead. "I might as well handle it, since she's already woken me up. Make sure she eats, and that the food locker is guarded, too." 

     "Of course, Gyutaro," Fumiko replied, not arguing when the true Kizuki left her side to hoist up the partial corpse. She didn't ask what he intended to do with it-- that was his prerogative, and she didn't have the authority to demand answers from him. Fumiko turned away and returned home, trailing bloodied footprints down the path, her thoughts occupied with the things she could do for Gyutaro and his sister: the only family she had left.

[other-shades-of-sapphire]

Proving mode – I.N

Jeongin x girlfriend indie-jazz singer-songwriter Jasmine, circa December 2022

Of Jeongin's never-ending desire to prove himself, until a certain someone told him not to.

Inspired by this exceptional MAMA performance in which Jeongin nearly passed out at the end.

"Really, noona," Jeongin said for the umpteenth time since he got off the stage and was rushed to one of the back rooms with a bed and a sofa in it. "I'm fine, really." 

"Really, Jeongin," Jasmine mimicked his tone, hands casually but firmly parked on his shoulders to keep him from getting off the sofa. "You nearly fainted just now. Sit down for a little more, or I'll drag you to that bed and chain you to it." 

"Sounds a lot more like a promise rather than a threat." 

Jasmine laughed, her big round eyes turning into crescents. "Maybe it is a promise." 

One he might insist on collecting too, Jeongin thought, if it wasn't for the fact that anyone – including any one of his nosy hyungs – could barge in at any time. "Let's circle back to that later, then." 

Her laugh started to fade, replaced by a sad smile. "Jeongin, you're already doing so well, you know?" 

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Where is this going?" 

"You were pushing yourself too hard back there, ppang." 

"It's adrenaline, noona." 

"I know it's adrenaline, but I think you knew it too back there. You're relying on it to give you the boost of energy you knew you didn't have, not with the rapid travels and your countless other agendas beforehand." 

"Is it so wrong, though?" Jeongin reasoned. "To rely on adrenaline for the energy I didn't have?" 

"No, but it is wrong to push yourself beyond your limits, ppang. You knew you didn't have to run that hard, yet you still did." 

Jeongin knew he was starting to annoy the noona, but he pushed through nonetheless. "So you're telling me to hold back when I'm on stage?" 

"No," ever the calm, patient noona, Jasmine kept her cool and didn't bark back. "What I'm saying is, you were giving your 120% on that run on the stage, Jeongin, when you knew perfectly well that 100% is enough. You're pushing that mere 20% by risking your well-being – your health, which you know is crucial in your line of work – and for what? The recognition you already have? The self-worth everyone already see even without you having to prove it?" 

Jasmine had this way of scolding Jeongin without really scolding him; she utilized her soothing indie-singer voice really well, combining it with her exceptional songwriting ability to choose just the right words so that rather than feeling like he's getting a lecture, Jeongin actually thought back and reflect on the thing he was being scolded for. Just like he did now. 

"You're still on your proving mode, ppang," she continued. Jeongin noticed the frequent use of his nickname and knew that it was her subtle attempt to soften the blow of reality check she was giving him, but he didn't mind the least. On the contrary, he appreciated her effort to still be affectionate even while scolding him (because yes, despite everything he'd thought about her special scolding method, it was still very much a scolding). "You're still trying very much to prove yourself and what you can do to everyone. I know it's something you're getting used to doing ever since your trainee days and then the survival show era, but you really don't have to do it anymore now. You don't have to prove yourself anymore; you've done all that already, and now the world already knows just how well the Yang Jeongin is doing." 

As much as he wanted to argue because he was still quite far from "doing well", Jeongin knew the noona had some seriously valid points – and some seriously accurate truths, too. He knew he didn't have to run that fast on that stage, but in his defense, Minho hyung had a role in pushing him past his limits by running so fast himself Jeongin couldn't help but race him even though it was perfectly okay for him to not run just as fast as the dance leader hyung. Maybe he did have the tendency to prove himself all the time, even at times he actually didn't have to, and maybe it was not necessarily a good thing. 

"Fine," he finally sighed. "I think you're right, Jaz." 

But before he had the chance to let her seize the win further than a satisfied smile on her lips, the door to the room swung open and all seven of his aforementioned nosy hyungs came pouring into the room, Hyunjin and Jisung leading the way. 

"Innie, are you – " Hyunjin stopped on his tracks at the sight of Jeongin and Jasmine pressed together, shoulder to shoulder on the narrow sofa. Being the drama llama that he was, he made a clutching gesture at his perfectly fine heart. "Ah, look at this! The baby bread doesn't even need us to worry about him anymore!" 

Equally as dramatic – or, Jeongin thought, equally as crazy – the rest of the hyungs started expressing their own despair. 

"Aigo..." 

"Our maknae really is growing up, no!" 

"Jasmine noona, you're really going to let him turn into an adult?" 

"In all seriousness," Chris said from the back of the crowd, looking amused despite his words, "Innie, you know you shouldn't've pushed yourself that hard." 

"I know," Jeongin grumbled. "The noona gave me an earful about it already." 

Chris gasped, and Jeongin instantly knew that the oldest hyung had crossed into his crazy/dramatic mode to match the other members. "You're already talking over our role to scold him too? Ah, noona!" 

coming up next

Find the montage of Jeongin & Jasmine and the rest of Stray Kids here!

[awildlion]

Finding A Way

Johnny Silverhand x V

A quick hurt & comfort fic because I had a night and I gotta get my emotions out. First fic I've posted on tumblr in years but I can't stop thinking about this pairing

!!! TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE !!!

It had only been a week since Night City's most notorious terrorist had taken his parasitic residence inside your head, but it felt like it had been years. You really get to know someone once they're physically unable to leave your side; and despite your frequent spats over trivial things like cigarettes and which gun is better, you've slowly grown fond of Silverhand. Despite the fact that his engram was slowly deteriorating your neurons, you had quickly gotten to the point where you didn't know what life would be like without the sarcastic asshole constantly by your side for his own version of moral support. Some could argue that he was a bad influence, but in the loneliest city in the New United States of America, any company was company worth having. And despite his cynical attitude, you could tell he was growing fond of you too. Perhaps it was your personalities merging as the engram slowly consumed your brain, but it had become easier to find common ground in the struggle of existing together. Maybe it was also pity from Silverhand's perspective that had made him more agreeable, as the side effects of losing yourself became more obvious.

It had started with the migraines, blurry vision, similar to the neural viruses you had experienced working as a merc. Over time though, your mental awareness began to wane. You often found yourself staring at nothing in particular, unable to gather your thoughts or make the witty responses you were known for. Forgetting things was another common side effect, and recently the people once important to you had also begun to fade from your mind. You felt slower, as if twenty pound weights were being added to your body with each day that passed. Your whole body had begun to ache, and neural shocks seizing your body had only grown more common place. As the hopelessness of your situation continued to sink in, it felt like your body had begun to check out; and the jolting pain as your own nerves were burned out of your brain by the biochip was a constant reminder of your impending fate.

Sitting atop Misty's Esoterica in the shitty plastic chairs she had introduced you to, you look out to the bright lights and take a long drag of your cigarette. You cough as the chemicals fill your lungs, closing your eyes tight to try and bring back memories of a happier time. Your parents, what did they look like? You remember looking up to them, but their faces were just an unrecognizable blur. It hurt that even the people who brought you into this world were no longer anything but a fading relic, and so you fill your lungs with more smoke to distract yourself from the haze filling your brain. You stand from the chair, flicking your cigarette into the half filled ashtray and walking to the ledge to lean against it and take in the views. You peer over the edge, trying to spot Jackie's motorcycle parked on the pavement below. As you bring your gaze upward, you feel another jolt from your brain travel down your body- making your twitch and cry out in pain and frustration. The shocks were growing more intense and frequent with every hour, and you could feel your window of opportunity towards recovery from the damage quickly closing. Fighting through the pain was getting harder to the point where you questioned if your life was worth the effort. After all, you still blamed yourself for Jackie's death, what did it matter if you joined him in whatever came afterwards? You take another look off the edge, leaning over the concrete barrier and letting yourself tip forward slightly to judge the distance of the fall. It would surely be enough, wouldn't it?

"I know what you're thinking, don't do it V."

"Of course you know what I'm thinking, you're in my brain jackass"

"Just going to give up now? We got some promising leads, Rogue managed to-"

"We got leads, but we don't have time, Johnny.... it hurts. It's getting worse, and I don't want to die in the middle of a gun fight and leave her stranded."

You sigh and look to your left, where Silverhand sits with his gaze averted from yours. He takes his glasses off and folds them, tucking them into his vest and sliding his digital hand towards your arm without turning to face you. You look at the metal hand, that glitches in and out of your perception- a stark reminder that even your closest friend isn't even truly there with you.

"C'mon V, we can go-"

"No." You cut him off, gripping onto the concrete ledge and hoisting yourself to stand on it. You feel the wind blow through your hair as you once again look down into the empty parking lot outside Misty's, and your body sways back and forth as you gather your courage.

"There's no point in putting anyone else in any more danger Johnny, I can't do it. It's fucking hopeless anyways, I won't-" you find yourself choking over your words, your usual stoicism crumbled as you face the end.

"I won't risk losing anyone else trying to save my life."

"V-"

You manage to bring your gaze back to Johnny, who's now looking directly into your eyes with a hand out stretched towards you. Silverhand had never shown much emotion, but you could feel the weight of your shared sadness. He seemed at a loss for words as well, and for a moment, you just stared at each other.

"Please." Johnny chokes out, screwing his eyes shut to try and hide the tears welling up. It catches you by surprise- he's never said please, much less cried in front of you.

"I don't- I can't let you go. Not like this." He murmurs, attempting to grab you with his synthetic hand. You can almost feel the cool metal brush against your skin as he brings himself to stand next to you.

"It'd be over... I wouldn't have to put up with any of this shit anymore." You whisper, feeling your own eyes fill with tears and quickly blinking them away. "Johnny, I don't want to do this anymore."

"I know. Can't imagine how shitty it is to lose yourself like this. But V- I'm not going anywhere." You feel his presence merge with yours, and you notice your hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You lean into the touch, shakily exhaling as Johnny wraps your other arm around your body to bring yourself into a hug.

"We can't end it like this- a stain on the fucking pavement. You're the better me V, the me I wish I could've been. And I won't let you go." You squeeze yourself tighter, unsure who is in control of your arms but knowing that Johnny is trying his hardest to hold you still.

You stand there in silence, allowing Johnny to slide your own hands gently up and down your body. You can't remember the last time you got a hug from someone else, but you knew it felt something like this. Johnny's voice now echoes through your thoughts:

"I've never been good at the sappy shit- but meeting you is the best fucking thing that's happened to me. And if I could rip myself out of your head right now to save you, I would."

"But you can't, Johnny. We both know how this is going to end- the biochip is going to overwrite my mind and leave you with my broken fucked up body to deal with."

"You know, I've come to like your body. Sure, nerves might be a little shot, but it's got you in it, and that's pretty damn great."

You let a couple tears escape your closed eyes, chuckling to yourself at the absurdity of the situation you've found yourself in. You know he isn't there with you physically, but you can feel his soul wrapped around yours, cradling your psyche with his spirit.

"V- no matter what happens, I'll be with you. Even if we fail miserably, I'm not giving up on you, or letting you give up on yourself."

You open your eyes and find that you've stepped down from the edge, still holding yourself in your arms.

"Well.... at least I know that when I finally kick the bucket, I'll have given it my best shot." You manage to curl your lips into a small smile, feeling Johnny reciprocate the smile from inside your mind.

"We'll save you yet, V. I promised you I'd do anything to save your life, didn't I?"

You release yourself from your hold to touch the dog tags dangling around your neck, letting your fingers run along the chain. Underneath that necklace is the bullet- resting against your chest as a constant reminder of the second chance you've been given.

"You already have saved my life, Johnny. Just did it again."

"Third times the charm. Let's go V, maybe grab a bite to eat. I'm hankering for a good slice of pizza right now."

You take another step back from the edge and turn to head towards the elevator, still holding on to the dog tags. Johnny leans against the wall next to the door, a softness in his eyes that you haven't noticed before. You give your arm one more tight squeeze, this time as a message to Johnny.

"Sounds like a plan. Just don't make me put that fake pineapple shit on it"

"Wouldn't dream of it, V."

--

[walkawaytall]

If you’re up for it, tips/faves from your Disney visit?

Okay, so I'm not expert, but here are some observations from my Walt Disney World trip in no particular order:

First off, I can't speak to other food sensitivities, but I can't eat even a little bit of gluten without becoming ill in such a way that half of my trip would have been ruined, and I was able to eat pretty easily. Ordering quick service meals through the My Disney Experience app, it was usually pretty easy to tell what I could and couldn't have, and for the table service meals that we had, the staff was incredibly knowledgeable about what either was already gluten-free or could be made gluten-free. For anyone who doesn't have food sensitivities, I don't know how to explain how much of a relief this was. Food is always such a cumbersome thing for me in general, and it's even worse when traveling, so having people who clearly knew what they were talking about go over menus with me was really reassuring, and I didn't get sick at all! Foodwise, highlights include: the churros at the Nomad Lounge in Animal Kingdom, which are GF, the GF beignets at Scat Cat's Cafe in the Port Orleans - French Quarter resort, and the Citrus Swirl at Sunshine Tree Terrace in Magic Kingdom. Also, we ponied up the cash for the Be Our Guest dining experience at Magic Kingdom, where you get to eat in Beast's castle from Beauty and the Beast, and the food was excellent. It's not a cheap meal, but, honestly, I think a similar-quality meal outside of WDW would cost about the same. And, whoever our host was is truly living his best life, acting like he's a straight-up cartoon character and clearly enjoying every second of it.

We had someone with some mobility issues who needed to sit or stop walking frequently, and some lessons learned from that: first off, if you're looking at the parks in terms of the amount of public seating with shade, Magic Kingdom is the best for that, followed by Animal Kingdom, and EPCOT and Hollywood Studios are tied for the worst. EPCOT is just...so dang hot with all the cement, and HS...okay, Galaxy's Edge does at least have some shade, but they didn't install as many places to sit as they really could have, and Toy Story Land is almost entirely roasting in the sun. If either of those areas had had a bit more seating/shade, we probably would have spent longer in the park, but as it was, it was sort of a half-day park for us.

If you're staying at a resort on-site, staying at one of the ones that the skyliner hits is super convenient, and way less crowded than the buses. The skyliner only goes to two parks, but still...that's two fewer bus rides.

Because of the way Disney has set things up, if you have any interest in the more popular rides, it is almost imperative to pay for Genie+ and occasionally Individual Lightning Lane passes. It's stupid, and I hate it, but if you're trying to maximize your time there, it's necessary to avoid standing in line half the day.

On that note, though, don't be afraid to ride the "lame" rides. Two of my favorite rides were the PeopleMover and the Carousel of Progress -- both of which I never would have checked out had I not seen Jenny Nicholson's "Top 10 Lame Things To Do At Disney World" video, which I also highly suggest (I actually love all of Jenny's videos, and she has several good ones on theme park stuff. This is one of the shortest ones).

Also, because of the way Genie+ and the Lightning Lane passes work, sometimes it's really easy to get caught up in the game of scheduling the day, and just hopping from one ride to the next without lingering in the parks and checking out the different areas. This is, in my opinion, a huge downside to this system. The parks are all highly themed in various ways, and there are cool things to look at and be around nearly everywhere. If you're constantly rushing from attraction to attraction, you miss some of that. So, try to take some time to linger. It really is worth it to do so.

If you're going to all four parks over the course of several days, I highly suggest having a rest day in the middle of the trip where you don't go to a park if you can. We had originally planned our not-park day for the end of the week, but ended up swapping it around with the last park day because we were just exhausted.

Unless something seems in danger of selling out throughout the day, save buying souvenirs til the end of the day. Spending a bunch of mental energy trying to make sure you don't spill something on your cool new bag or lose your cute Chewbacca plush is silly when you can probably just run through whatever stores on your way out. Ask me how I know this.

Don't be afraid to really examine whether the juice is worth the squeeze. I had been told we had to ride this one ride at Hollywood Studios, and even though I seriously grabbed a Lightning Lane pass four minutes after they were released, our time wasn't until like 7pm. By like...4:30, we had more than exhausted what we wanted to do at the park, were grumpy, and dreading waiting around for another 2.5 hours just to ride a roller coaster...so we didn't. We probably could have gone to the hotel and then gone back to the park, but we were just tired and kind of over it at that point, so we left for the day. And, honestly, I do not think any roller coaster would have been worth getting increasingly grumpy and sunburned over the course of a couple hours. Maybe if it had been a ride we were really looking forward to, but this was one we didn't even know existed until someone told us we had to ride it. So...examine what's actually worth the time/energy to you and base your decisions around that instead of on what other people say is a must-ride, must-do thing.

[aceofshitposts]

PLEASE write the Jay & Tim side of the bruharley masquerade thing IM BEGGING YOU I LOVED IT AND I WANNA KNOW HOW JAY & TIMS NIGHT WAS GOING WHEN YOU ALLUDED TO THEM 🥺🥺🥺

LMAO well i guess i could've expected this. Honestly, this could probably quite easily fit in to the other royalty stuff i've written for jaytim 😂😂

Bruce's suspicions are correct, not only did Jason and Tim have a hand in arranging the party but they did, in fact, elope. Bruce doesn't have any problems with it but the court, the other nobility, aren't quite as kind. (For reason of Jason's place as Bruce's adopted son)

Not that the two of them really care what the court thinks.

They're not kids anymore and as they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder and Jason and Tim's frequent travels outside the kingdom have given them a lot of perspective. Bruce didn't take Selina breaking off the engagement well. That much was clear though by the time the two of them returned from abroad after hearing the news Bruce was already doing better.

Better does not mean doing his best, though.

They both know what Bruce is like. He puts on a gruff exterior, he's awkward and more often then not accidentally puts his foot in his mouth but no matter what he says about it he likes being around people.

And with all his birds slowly leaving the nest and his long term relationship over, everyone in the family feels he'd benefit from at least some new friends.

So. A party.

They spend most of the night watching Bruce gracefully handle the various gold diggers trying their luck. Which, while amusing, isn't really what the party was intended for.

"Oh look, Miss Vale is making an advancement on B," Jason whispers to Tim, gesturing with his wine glass across the room.

Tim turns his head, tracking the offensively yellow dress begin trailing desperately after Bruce, who in turn is desperately weaving through the crowd to lose her. Tim loses track of him somewhere near the doors to the gardens, about the time Vicki also gives up, stomping one foot against the marble floor and stomping back into the room.

"Well, this has been going swimmingly," Tim says dryly, taking a sip from his wine. "Bruce has looked constipated through every dance and now he's escaped into the garden."

Tim feels Jason shrug beside him, one arm snaking around his waist and holding him close. "I told you and Dickiebird a party was going to be too much."

Tim elbows Jason in the stomach and Jason laughs, pulling him closer.

Okay, so, the party's a bust. Fine, Tim can admit that. And Jason's gonna rub it in his face for the next month or so they're in Gotham, also fine. It was worth the shot.

And at the very least Tim can enjoy the rest of the evening with his husband.

They're slowly circling the ballroom when Jason and most of the others still in the room stop.

"Hey, who's that with B?"

Tim twists around in Jason's arms to look at the doors where, sure enough, Bruce is entering with a woman Tim doesn't recognize. She's almost a whole head shorter than him, blonde hair and a dress far more ridiculous than Tim thinks he's ever seen.

"I... don't know," Tim says while Bruce offers a hand out to the woman and they venture out onto the dance floor. He's even smiling, which would have Tim thinking he'd had too much wine if it wasn't for the way the rest of the crowd seems similarly stunned by the development.

"Well, what'dya know. Maybe this wasn't a lost cause after all," Jason says while resting his chin on Tim's head.

They stay off to the side for the rest of the night, watching as Bruce twirls the mystery woman around the floor while Tim tries desperately to figure out who she is.

[emmalovesfitzloved]

Since you are from the UK, did you ever visit some of the places mentioned in the series ?

Hey doll @imabitchforjemcarstairs ! Okay let me start with this lovely Q ;)

I absolutely am blessed enough to live and travel through Shadowhunter featured ends!

I'll admit when I was a law student i frequented them more but now that i work i am so exhausted if given the choise a choose HOME lol (+cost of living right now in London is up by 30% so it's disincentivizing to move around London too much).

My law firm is at Bank (financial+legal district of London) so I go there routinely throughout the week which is awesome! Although when I go there i'm mainly thinking about work and the fires we're putting out than musing about our Beloveds sadly!

Blackfriar Bridge I don't go through normally. Mainly bc it is SO COLD while walking through it during this time of year! So if i travel through the river, it's normally via the embankment bridge on the tube lol

My little hobbit flat is in Holburn which was featured once or twice as a mention during Clockwork Prince so HOW FUN huh!

Hatchett's: I don't reallyyyy go there to get my books lol. Don't get me wrong, I always pop in when I'm in Piccadilly and just admire the lovely staircase and pretend i'm Tess waiting for Will (lol) but tbh it's a bit too cooperate now. It got bought out by the same group that owns Waterstones, Barnes and noble and Blackwell's. So i only really go when there is an exclusive or signed edition. I mainly stick to second hand (even second hand books need some TLC!) and indie book stores! Buy books from booksellers not billionaries!

Borough Market: A bit out of my way cuz it's near the Strand, but i go on occasion. Bit overly priced for what it's worth.

Hyde Park: I don't go there as often as I should ngl. It's lovely. And so many lovely ducks (yes I said that to TRIGGER Will muahahah)

Cecil Court: I visit maybe every couple months! This is a place i specifically go to thanks to TID!)

Holloway (now known as Islington/Angel): I have a friend who lives here! NGL Holloway Road now is a bit shady at night haha. So i only frequent it during the day. When I visit Islington I often think of Sirus Black/Marauders stuff though (cuz I am a wolfstar fan too ;) cuz his house is there.

Saint Paul's: I visit this not too regularly but I do love going there. I am Roman Catholic so I go to Mass at Sant Patrick's in Soho Square, but I should attend mass there sometime to get that TSC vibe!

Am I missing any other places? These are the first that come to mind! LMK in the comments or reposts or Q if u want more specific ones and I can give u the irl modern-take to TID/TSC one 🤭 I have been living in London now since 2016 so i am familiar (most likely?)

I leave you with this morning's vista from one of my bedroom windows! You can our usual London weather featured as well as see the Strand, st. Paul's, some cooperate buildings with helicopters on there andddd some chimneys and dreadful looking scaffolding.

[heybaetae]

This is partially for me because I'm really curious about your opinion about this. 👀 What would you consider an unhealthy relationship with an artist you admire? Bts for example. And I don't mean the physical stuff like actually following them everywhere and taking pictures because that's not even liking & admiring the artist, that's just straight up fcked up and for money. But in like an emotional way? When is it too much? Because sometimes I say stuff like I'm emotionally dependent on <member> but honestly I don't think I am? Like they make me very happy whenever I watch something and they make me laugh so much and when they say something sad or talk about past experiences I also get sad, and when someone is not on social media for a long time I miss them a lot but I still go on with my day, do my stuff etc. And I cried with/for them in the past and there were things I could relate to that they had said or done. But I can still do my things, I'm not on social media 24/7 waiting for them to do something, so I guess I'm not truly emotionally dependent on them? 🤔 Have you seen someone who was on the edge of / in an unhealthy relationship with any artist?

good question! i have thoughts on this in general and a lot of it stems not just from the bts fandom, but previous fandoms i’ve been in where the parasocial relationship someone has to a celebrity they stan starts to concern me. for the record though, i don’t think any of the examples you mentioned about your relationship with bts are unhealthy. i think they’re all very normal feelings to have for them because you care about them, but it sounds like you still know where to draw the line. i don’t think actually being emotionally dependent on a famous person is healthy, but i absolutely agree that they can be a source of happiness, sometimes more than other things or people in your life can and that’s a more individual type of experience and might be worth talking to a professional about if it starts to effect you negatively. but if it doesn’t, carry on.

my concern is more with making a point to follow or keep an eye on someone’s non-famous family and friends on social media, harassing those people, and sleuthing for information to the point of making those people feel unsafe just for knowing or having any kind of relation to that famous person, especially if they’ve made it a point to keep those exact people extremely private for that very reason. i’d also question things if someone’s entirely personality revolved around loving a celebrity to the point of like…eating, breathing, drinking, traveling, replicating every little thing they’ve ever done with permanence such as copying tattoos and visiting every place they’ve ever been in—and i don’t mean public places like museums or parks—i’m talking real businesses like salons, restaurants, gyms, they’re known to frequent, etc. and going out of your way to make acquaintances with people who’ve worked with them just to feel “closer” or in the hopes of crossing paths, which starts to border on obsessive and creepy ulterior motives. wishing harm or threatening people on their behalf, demanding more work or attention from them, speculating way too much (not just being curious or making light jokes) about their personal lives, sex lives, mental well-being, and overanalyzing their interactions with each other to push a narrative or coming up with reasons why they’re being mistreated by their company or fellow members. i say this because i’ve been guilty of entertaining that kinda stuff in the past in a few other fandom(s) and it wasn’t until i got into bts that i finally was able to recognize how incredibly fucked up and abnormal that is for a stranger to do, fan or not.

there’s lots more examples but you get my gist. i think if you’re avoiding doing most of that, then you’re fine.

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

Hi there! I am in Florida, and at this very moment, trying to dissociate from hurricane Ian that is beginning to hit my town. 😬 So I figured I'd distract myself by asking for ships. If you see this elsewhere too, I just...don't like talking about myself very much so I'm writing this once.

She/her, INFP, Hufflepuff. 5'2, generally pale, curvy, but not overweight (yet, lol), blonde hair (but it's currently The Little Mermaid bright red, lol), blue-green eyes. I love my hair and my eyes and this is the only thing you'll ever hear me say I like about my appearance.

My favorite thing about myself is my sense of humor. And to a lesser extent, my sarcasm. I never really feel I have much to offer people, especially in difficult times, but I can make my friends laugh when they are crying. And a few weeks ago one of my good friends said to me that every time she goes home after spending time with me, her husbsnd says she is always in such a happy mood. And that was just like...the nicest thing anyone could say to me. 💜 I am an introvert until I am comfortable with someone and then I can be loud and frequently silly. Years of customer service in my past made me decent at bullshitting small talk, but ugh, it drains my batteries. I will get along with anyone who isn't an asshole, but I do not get close to most people easily. I don't like conflict, so I can get passive aggressive with people I'm close to if I have any issues over something. Trying very hard to change that, as I know it's not a great look.

Other random shit about me: I have anxiety, but (I think) I've learned to hide it well in public most of the time? My brain is just a fucking mess, but I will joke about it all day! 🙃 I love all animals. I'd cuddle an alligator if it wouldn't eat me. I've got cats, dogs, rats and a bunny. I've wanted a horse my whole life. My favorite author is Neil Gaiman. I love going to the beach and swimming in the ocean. I love museums and history and learning about lore/fairytales/monsters/cryptids. I love Marvel movies/comics, Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. I occasionally do conventions and cosplay, though I'm not very good at the cosplay bc I cannot sew. Lol. I've been Rose and Amy from Doctor Who and Kate Bishop (Hawkeye). It's really fun! I wish I were better at it. Love bowling and mini golf. Sadly, none of my friends do.

I love music and going to shows used to be my thing! Like I've seen over 100 bands and concerts. I don't have the time/money/energy to do it anymore, but those were absolutely the best years of my life. I've traveled to other states and across the country for a couple of bands (The Matches and Motion City Soundtrack) and made some of the best friends just waiting in lines. I have one tattoo and it's a crow with a blue button eye that the singer of my favorite band drew for me.

I'm gonna shut up now. Lol. Sorry I got carried away. I'm REALLY trying to distract myself from thinking about this hurricane rn. Thanks in advance if you made it through the rambling and decide to do anything with it. 😁💜

Firstly, I hope you and your family are doing OK since the hurricane and that it didn't cause too much damage! Secondly I'm so sorry this has taken me so long to get to, I've been all over the place lately between graduating and starting my new job🙈

I ship you with Johnny Martin

He's obsessed with your red hair, like he thinks it's the coolest thing ever and it looks so good on you.

You're alike in the sense that you both need to be comfortable with someone before you feel like you can really be yourself.

Of course you two seemed to click right away. You both made a few sarcastic teasing comments and it was like you'd been friends for years.

He's always quick to remind you of your worth, and how you always seem to brighten people's lives without even trying

He totally get that sometimes you just need time to yourself to recharge, and he's always happy to just sit quietly with you or leave you do your own thing in your own space. You'll come find him when you're ready.

No matter what you say, he thinks your cosplays are great and he's always super encouraging.

He's ridiculously competitive, and loves nothing more than trying to beat you at mini golf. He scoffs and acts annoyed when you beat him, but really he just loves seeing you smile.

He definitely intends to start taking you to concerts again, cause he knows you loved going to them.

Hope you like it x

[muses-archive]

the whim of today's wind #3

The smell of blood wouldn’t normally be a cause for concern. He’s gone through plenty of that before in the past, and if necessary, he can discreetly transport any passers-by in trouble. All things considered, he might be getting worked up over something minor, but… he follows along the road to Qingce Village. He bounds up the cliff, and there he is, across the bank, seated by the waterfall. 

“Kazuha!”

He looks up, startled. That quickly turns into a slightly guilty expression as he looks away, trying to hide his arm. Even at this distance, Xiao is slightly taken aback by how pale his skin looks, despite his frequent wandering. He shakes his head and returns to the more important matter at hand: the wound running across Kazuha’s right upper arm does not look deep, but it irritates him nonetheless. 

“What happened?” he demands, as he approaches.

“Ah, well, just a little careless helping out some people, it’s no big deal," he gives a wry smile, aware that Xiao would not be satisfied with such an answer. He throws back on his haori, to keep up the pretense.

"Don't throw yourself into danger, that's my duty. While you're in Liyue, your safety is my concern."

That should have been it. He wants to say more, but they get stuck in his throat. 

The Traveler wouldn't forgive me if you got hurt.

I don't want you to be hurt.

Why does he feel so strongly about this? He puts it down to the fragility of mortal beings.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Kazuha’s voice loses its regular airiness, the finality in his tone reflected in the fake, reassuring smile he has on. He knows this all too well, having employed some form of this himself.

Don’t look down on me.

He’s well aware that Kazuha’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, which doesn’t mean he can’t worry. He relents, for now. He seats himself down, and holds out his hand. “At least let me help you with your arm.”

Kazuha wordlessly lets his haori fall off again, handing over the cloth bandages. As Xiao carefully winds the cloth around, he notices the older scars making faded trails over the other man’s upper body and arms. They’re not numerous, just enough to dispel the illusion of an ‘easy’ life. This moment of relative peace must be a luxury to enjoy after whatever had happened in Inazuma. 

He wonders if this will add one more scar. 

“I’ll get someone to heal that better,” Xiao begins to stand, after being satisfied with the binding. The man has been quiet all this time, with only the sounds of the cascading waterfall and stray songbirds that flit past them. “Kazuha?” 

He jolts in place. “Huh? Oh, thanks.” 

He seems flustered for some reason. “... are you alright?”

“Never better!” he chirps. Xiao isn’t convinced, now reluctant to leave. If he could use his Vision to heal, that would be more convenient for this very moment. Even more puzzling, he’s removing his footwear and wading into the water, even though there’s no fish. He walks over to the water’s edge, trying to understand.

“Shouldn’t you get dressed and-”

“Xiao!”

Kazuha holds out his hand, inviting. Xiao moves to pull him out instead, but Kazuha is faster; in the next moment, he’s drenched unceremoniously, and Kazuha’s laughter rings clearly in the still air. Xiao quickly finds his feet, the strength of his glare softened at seeing the other’s amusement, colour blooming in his cheeks. 

He’d like to think that should his karmic debt ever finally catch up to him, being able to see such expressions from the people he wants to protect would be worth all the sacrifice. 

“Come on,” he sighs, resigned at his antics. “Have you eaten?”

A shake of the head. “I’ll take you to Wangshu Inn then. Please be more careful next time.”

He gets a meek nod in response. Kazuha does not attempt further mischief, getting back up with Xiao’s help. Without the wrappings and guards, Xiao can feel the calluses on Kazuha’s fingers with that brief contact. 

What drives you? He doesn’t ask.

Verr Goldet makes no comment about the puddles of water they make on the inn’s floor, only raising an eyebrow at Xiao as she hands them towels and the inn’s loose robes, something Xiao doesn’t particularly need. It’s early enough where guests have yet to mill around the veranda for him to worry about being spotted, at least, to help clean up. He shoos Kazuha into the kitchen where he can hear Smiley Yanxiao already hard at work. 

“Take care of him, will you?” is all Verr Goldet says. Isn’t he already? He nods his acknowledgement of her mysterious words, as he too, gets chased away.

“I asked him to go to my room. Don’t need people standing around in the kitchen,” Smiley Yanxiao does not miss a beat as he walks in, not turning around. The familiar smell of almonds begins wafting through the air.

Kazuha’s already changed, looking quite different with his hair down and without his signature ensemble. Ordinary, even. His eyes brighten when Xiao walks in, gesturing to his head. “Since my arm’s injured, help me dry my hair?”

“You sure like to take advantage of people,” he retorts, without any malice, doing as asked anyway with a towel.

“Only sometimes, you know,” he quips in a sing-song way. 

In the following lull, Kazuha falls asleep, Xiao quickly catching him before he falls forward. “You’re so much trouble,” he mutters, tucking him into bed. Kazuha would probably laugh off his chastising if he were awake. As used as he must be to camping outside, he hasn't gotten proper sleep it would seem. Sometimes, Xiao himself would stop by to share a light meal, or for a greeting before moving on to keep Liyue under his ever watchful eye.

He dutifully reports the situation to both Smiley Yanxiao and Verr Goldet before heading off to call on Bubu Pharmacy and continuing his patrol, not before getting a serving of almond tofu foisted onto him.

Should he have stayed with Kazuha? He dismisses the ridiculous notion immediately. He shouldn’t be putting his duty aside to watch over one person, just because he wants to. It’s perplexing he’s even considering it to begin with, for someone from the other side of the ocean. 

Maybe if circumstances were different, he would have time to ponder a frivolous notion. 

He doesn’t want to get too comfortable, too close.

The thought remains in his mind anyway.