#for what it counts i think your base point was fair. the idea of discussing childhood in south africa in the 80s and not-

[megabuild]

im gonna be 100% honest with you man i'm not gonna post this in full because you are just going to open yourself up to getting clowned on again but i do need you to know this is my absolute favourite opening to any ask i've gotten ever.

[ursae-minoris-world]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @starlightvld- thank you!!! ☺️

1. How many works do you have on A03? 42! (neat!)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 140,503!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly vld. I have a Good Omens fic and always want to write more and a few fandom that I'm tempted to write for, but I'm still very much in vld.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? - Breaking point (vld, sheith) ; A little mouse told me (vld, sheith); Flowers and Blood (vld, sheith); A cure to loneliness (Good Omens, ineffable husbands)

This gets long so I'm adding the rest under a read more!!

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! I do! Sometimes I can take a little long but I really enjoy talking with my readers!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Just a call... (vld, gen) I think! It's an open ending, but it ends up on a frustrating note (which was the point).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh man, they almost always have a happy or at least hopeful ending. Let's go with A little mouse told me (vld, sheith).

Oh, hey, fun anecdote! Someone commented on Stay with me (vld, sheith) to tell me it was the 200,000th work in the "happy ending" tag! They had just witnessed the tag going up to that number with my fic!

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not so far, thankfully. (Happened once on fanart though, but it was just one dumb comment by an anti).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I haven't so far, I'm not really interested in writing it (never say never, though!).

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Well, I did 2 fairly recently for a crackship event! It was loads of fun. The craziest might be A Mysterious French Chef, which started as a Hunk&Remy idea, but ended up involving Hunk, Allura and the space mice for vld, and Linguini, Colette, and Remy for Ratatouille, and everyone interacting pretty significantly. I really loved mashing the 2 universes, and for something that started as a "crack" idea, it ended up working surprisingly well!!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. I've had some original (anonymous) poems that I cowrote with a friend plagiarized down to using our actual pseudonym, but that wasn't in fandom or even online!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I don't think so.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! Five times Shiro broke the rules, and one time Keith did with VirdisDrachen (vld, Shiro&Keith). It's based on a roleplay. Other than that, while it's mostly an artist+writer big bang collaboration, I think Square_Orange and I did discuss the plot a fair amount for Let It Snow! (vld, sheith).

I also have 2 fics that are remixes of other people's work, done for the sheith remix event : When you lived! (the “Enormous, within your small hands” remix) inspired by a fic by @annaofaza, and High Score! (the “I want us forever” remix) inspired by a fic by Tragedy_Machine.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? To no-one's surprise: sheith.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I am fairly good at finishing my wips, even if I do have some stuff that has been waiting for a while. I still have my notes about Keith grieving Shiro between s2 and s3 and how the team tried to support him and each other but how things became tense, that I wrote just after s3 aired! I still hope to get to it one day!

There's also the collab with VirdisDrachen tbh because we dropped the rp after a while and I wouldn't finish this alone. So I'm afraid this one will stay as is.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm good with dialogues and characterization? Themes like friendship, found family are my jam, too. Of course it's subjective.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I am learning, but action and fight scenes are *hard*. (But I also love them? haha). On the exact opposite side, stories with very low stakes are sometimes hard to write, when it's just 100% fluff and no conflict, unless it's like, a short scene... It's easier with some emotional or romantic build up (ex mutual pining > getting together) but otherwise I really have to *think* to plot the fic. I'm so used to stories centered around conflict (in the literary sense, including inner conflict, not necessarily an actual fight).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I agree with @starlightvld that if it's a language that I'm not personally fluent in, I'd look for a native speaker who might want to help or avoid it. Except maybe for conlangs, like Sindarin or Klingon. Although if I ever write in a fandom with something like that, I would f*cking love to get insight from one of these people who actually studied them and are fluent. In a more general way, I'd be cautious that it actually brings something to the story, that it makes sense to use the language that way, and to do it in a way that doesn't confuse readers too much (unless I am purposefully writing for those who know the language, I guess). I will say that I do love different languages to be aknowledged, like for vld fics that actually dig into the paladins having different languages, and the Galra and Altean also, and so on (ex fics where they have universal translators and then there are issues when they break or they can't rely on them for whatever reason).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Voltron! My first fic was a Hunk-centric gen fic, While some count sheep, and I'm still really fond of it!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Oh, that's hard, I like them all for different reasons. I do enjoy Carry me away for the sheith saving each other vibes. A little mouse told me (sheith written from the space mice pov) was such a fun exploration! Honestly, the most kudosed ones in question 4 are all fics I am proud of. To chose a lesser known one, I also love A special day , a vld gen Hunk-centric fic!

Tagging... @sodomhipped, @tomatocages, @an-aphorism @museaway @jacqulinetan @levyscripts @annaofaza and whoever wants to do this!

(also no pressure at all if you are tagged!)

[unrequitedloveletter]

All right! This post is something that’s been a long time in the making. I hit 500 followers early last month, and I’ve been trying to figure out a cool way to celebrate ever since. 

This is what I came up with! Requests for this are open until the 29th and will probably start coming out at the beginning of next week, with the latest I can think that the first one would come out being around next wednesday. 

The characters to whom this applies are the same as usual! Nikolai, Alina, Mal, and Zoya as far as Shadow and Bone goes, and Kaz, Inej, Jesper, Nina and Matthias as far as Six of Crows is concerned. Pin Hawthorne of Free Rein is included in this as well, as he always is. As for characters that I don’t normally attach to my events, we have Aaron Warner and Kenji Kishimoto from the Shatter Me series!

CONCERT LINEUP

TAYLOR SWIFT

invisible string- pick a verse, bridge, or chorus from any taylor swift song. Provide a character, and I’ll write a mini-song fic/blurb with each paragraph based off of each lyric sent in. Multiple verses, bridges or choruses can be sent in but to keep the fics relatively short, I ask that, per request, you don’t send in more than three. 

paper rings- weddings!! give me a character. a rough word count (10k is the most I’m willing to write, but if you want the fic to be a longer one, specifics are heavily recommended) and where you would want to get married if you were to get married! You can also tell me if you want it to be next level angst or to have the fluff scale turned up to eleven. Provide whatever specifics you want, and along with the fic, you’ll get a moodboard! You can mention if you want the moodboard to replace whatever gif I use as a fic header, but if you want it at the bottom of the fic and for me to include the gif anyway, just let me know!

lavender haze- AUS! You can pretty much pick any AU or combination of AUs that you want, be it a royalty au combined with your selection of the thousands of soulmate aus that people have come up with or a modern au with a coffeeshop au thrown in there! Anything is fair game, as long as you provide me with a character and whatever other specifics you can think to include. I’ll write three thousand words for this one, so again, the more specifics, the better!

long story short- all right! This one will be a fic set like, 5-10 years in the future! Flashback scenes can be included if you want them to be but if not, the past that got the characters to where they are will be discussed a bit through internal monologuing. This one is pretty much just up to the requester. The plot is your choice, the character is your choice, even the genre is your choice. everything is up to you and for the third time, the more specifics you add, the better!

message in a bottle- ships and moodboards! send in a brief description of yourself, your gender and fandom pref, and an activity you think would make a fun date night, and I’ll ship you with someone! 

CONAN GRAY

lookalike- this is the hurt/comfort freebie! give me a character, a hurt/comfort prompt or idea of your choosing, and a word count (for this one, the max I’ll write is 5k) 

fight or flight- headcanon freebie! Give me an idea you have that you want me to write headcanons for

the cut that always bleeds- this is the conan gray version of the invisible string prompt. Give me a verse, bridge, or chorus of any of conans songs and I’ll write an angst fic using that, with one paragraph for every lyric in each stanza. In the interest of keeping these fics short, I ask that you only send three stanzas per request

the story- long fics! These ones can take place at random points throughout different years in the characters lives, and they can follow pretty much any plotline! Want me to write a slowburn that runs across a decade or two? want me to show how the characters lives would progress throughout the run of five years or maybe a relationship a year before it begins, as it develops, and a year after something like a proposal or marriage? Theres a lot of potential for plots here, it’s entirely up to the requester! These fics tend to run a bit longer and the shortest I could see myself making one is 5k, with a max word count of 15k, so be mindful that these will likely run a bit on the longer side and thus, take me a bit more time to complete

grow- songs and moodboards! for this one, just drop this prompt into my inbox and tell me that it’s from this event, and I’ll make a moodboard based on how I percieve you/your aesthetic, or I’ll give you a list of like, ten songs that remind of me of you or that I think you would probably enjoy! (moots only) 

PHOEBE BRIDGERS

funeral- this one is the MCD freebie. Drop this one into my inbox if you want me to write some angst involving the death of a character of your choice

killer- this is AU’s but with an angsty twist of your choosing! Soulmate AU’s with near-death experiences, right person right time but with an unexpected twist that throws things off completely? Pick and AU and an angst trope and give me a character for this one. 

moon song- phoebe bridgers version of the invisible string and the cut that always bleeds prompts. Pick any chorus, verse, or bridge from any song by phoebe bridgers, and I’ll write a mini songfic with it. Again, in the interest of keeping the requests short, I ask that you send no more than three stanzas per request. 

punisher (copycat killer version)- this one, in contrast to the rest of the phoebe bridgers prompts, is a bit more on the hurt/comfort side. For this one, give me any prompt that you want! My only ask is that, if you take the prompt from another account, you credit them in your request, and that you keep the prompt within the realms of hurt/comfort or angst. Send in a character for this one, and I’ll write a thousand words for it. 

waiting room- this one is the painful angst freebie! Make it hurt, make it hard hitting. Have Character A watch Character B almost die. Make it as painful as you want, and with this one, the more specific you can be, the better! Depending on how much you include, these ones may also run a little on the longer side (3-7k as a minimum, 10-14k as a max) 

-

mutual tags: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @thebestieyoureinlovewith​ 

[gildedmuse]

[And with that single line, Kuina had more characterization than every other woman in her extended family combine.]

2. Let Me Guess, It Was Very Tragic & Character Defining

(aka Every-Mom Story)

Now, I know a lot of people are going to say, "To be fair, Mina/Muse, it makes SENSE that Zoro's parents were dead! Otherwise they would have to let their son walk around challenging dojos whenever he wanted, and no sane person let a child with Zoro's sense of direction just go town to town on his own like that! Plus, if you actually think about Zoro's whole -"

First off, love the engagement Fictional Tumblr Surfer. I also adore discussing media and hearing different perspectives but before you go any further: trust me, I have thought about Zoro. I have had all the thoughts about Zoro.

Also, this idea that Zoro's parents HAD to be dead seems to be based entirely on, "or else he wouldn't be wandering the countryside looking for dojos". The problem with that line of logic is, well, it doesn't make sense. Look what Luffy was getting up to, he'd got family. Hell, Franky had both his parents and you know what they did? Tossed him into the sea. Parents being alive is not a guarantee of anything. It says she died of an illness but for all we know, she passed away when Zoro was 15. All those Kuina scenes? His mom was just kicking back at the house, doing her own thing. "Oh, yeah, no worries, go hang in out with your little sword clubs. Just remember: what's the one rule when we go out?"

*sigh* "I'm allowed to take shortcuts or whatever pass I please as long as it doesn't involve getting on a boat." *Grumble* "I'm six years old, I know my shortcut through the mountains already! Geeze mom!"

"Yeah, well you just do what your old lady says, since she does feed you and everything. Take all the mountain shortcuts you want, kiddo. No boats."

"No boats."

"See ya in a few weeks honey. REMEMBER, BEATING BAD GUYS UP FOR FOOD DOESN'T COUNT."

"I know! You always say that! I know how bounties work!"

"Hey, I'm just trying to make sure you're staying healthy, Kiddo. And if they're criminals, the Marines can't arrest you for beating them up. Call the home den den mushi if you need anything. Love you!"

"Bye!"

(I understand exactly where Oda was going with giving his mom three traits: she was raised by criminals/thieves/bad guys, married a samurai and died from illness. I see the storyline being set. But, listen, I dare anyone to step and tell me there is absolutely no part of them - not even the smallest silver - that wouldn't rejoice at seeing THIS Zoro's relationship with his still living mom, rather than the inevitable build up to Corazon/Bellamere/Sora/Otohime/Toki & Oden/Yusie Part Du....Di-Diez)

Which brings me around to my point: why kill Zoro's mom!? What is the point other than ensuring you don't have to do the work of having to come up with a whole other character? How does the story benefit from murdering everyone's parents!? Is this a theme of the work or just a personal kink!?

Sorry, let me pull that back.

The thing about Zoro's parents is: no one cares. Don't get me, fans care very much about Zoro. Their curios what was going on, but we've been with this character for years at this point, he's never once brought them up. There aren't even shades of it.

Viewed through a certain lens, the fact they're both dead is somehow WORSE. Because you realize the number of situations the Strawhats have come into where a key component is Illness Related, Evil Pirates Murdering Folks, Parents Suffering/Dying For Their Children, and People Who Lost Parents Looking For Revenge and sometimes nearly all of those things at once! And yet Zoro has never once been emotional triggered by these situations the way Nami is with children in trouble or Sanji is with mistreated women or Chopper is when he is unable to help someone....

Or Zoro is. With Tashigi.

No one dare try and tell, "Zoro isn't the kind to react to someone just because their situation reminds him of something tragic in his own past" because that is LITERALLY his entire DEAL with Tashigi. She has a shallow, surface appearance that is similar to his best friend who died and so even just seeing her brings that up despite Tashigi being entirely unrelated and also, really only Zoro's approximation of what Kuina might have looked like a decade in the future.

So the idea that Zoro lost both his parents in tragic situations which left him homeless and with no one to take him in and his sole emotional response was apparently shrugging off and going to get his walking shoes, he got some dojos to find doesn't speak particularly well for those family dynamics.

And the thing is, this doesn't inform Zoro's character, it doesn't build or explain anything, it's just what Oda appears to do when he needs characters to have a connection to or a history with something. Fine a parental figure. Have them murdered. And with Zoro he could have done something new and different, because Zoro doesn't NEED this history in order to help establish his motivations or explain his thinking, he doesn't need this to be emotionally invested, it doesn't raise any stakes or change his path. Zoro doesn't need any of that; boy figured that all out himself before he was ten, and the parts he missed, Luffy brought with him! Anything that could be added through knowing more of Zoro's history, all it does is add another layer to something he'd already gone and established himself.

With that in mind, why NOT mix it up? Since we've been watching the crew for years and he hasn't spoken a single about his family, you could as easily pull an Ace situation. This is my family, that I have never mentioned before.

I mean have fun with it. Go wild! "Where was she? Why wasn't she looking after her kid? Who would let a child just go off for weeks like that."

"To be fair, Zoro had beaten all the local kids and was really bored. And she did pack him a few lunches. Hey, he's a kid, if he wants to go running off to find another dojo, let him! He's having fun, what's the big deal?" And obviously when he told her his plan to leave the island to hunt down bounties and eventually face off against a warlord, well he was 15, he was an adult and if that's what he wanted to do.

You could have just made her Silvers Rayleigh but a mom. It would have been amazing.

But, no... No, of COURSE she was ill.

And I'll bet she was an absolutely lovely woman too, so sweet, so caring, someone who worked hard doing housework for others in order to feed her family after her husband was tragically killed fending off pirates from raiding the island. Oh, but lately work has been harder to get because her sickness leaves her just so small and frail. I'll bet she often tried to hide just how bad it was by praising little Zoro whenever he carried the groceries or brought in the water or did some physical chore. Like, "look how strong you are, carrying that bag all by yourself. Are you sure you don't want me to help? Zozozo, I think you're just using it as an excuse to train and show off how big you're growing!" Bet he feels so proud of himself, and aren't they just the cutest little household?

I feel like I know her already. I get the sense Ter would be the kind of mother who would tease that it wasn't right how HE was always protecting HER when SHE was supposed to be the one looking out for HIM. Her fearless little tiger! (I mean, sure, she's physically killing herself working keeping food on his plate and a roof over his head, but there was that on time when she was so sick during that big storm that Zoro did all the chores and she hadn't even asked! And that other night walking back from the market when a wolf had come out at woods and starting to growl at them and she'd been terrified they would have to drop the grocery and run when she'd worked so, so hard to get money to buy enough food for the next few days but Zoro wouldn't let it get their food and eventually the thing ran off like a scared little puppy. Such a brave boy!)

Which is good because he'll need, I'm 90% sure she said, while on her death bed. She'd probably surprised to a single down tear running down his little cheeks because she doesn't remember Zoro crying, not even as a baby, and she'd hate that she would be the reason that her strong boy cried for the first time, and she'd end up telling him all about how she used to cry all the time when he was baby. She was all alone and she knew she didn't have long left and he looked so helpless in arm. She couldn't stop worrying about what could happen to him when she was no longer there to feed and protect and help him.

And Zoro would be upset he has made his mom cry so much and she'd just laugh - Zozozo - it's been years since she cried like that. She doesn't have to anymore, seeing what a strong and brave person Zoro has become over the years, she no longer worries. He is so fearless and determined and she knows he will be okay, she believes in him. And with that last breath she'll make him give her his word, promise her he'd always remember how strong he was, that he would never stop getting strong. That way, no matter what, she can rest knowing he will always.

Is that the goal? A cheap emotional underpunch that probably would make cry but also... kind of undermines a lot of Zoro's character. And also raises a lot of questions about some of the stories internal paradox but also it's just so conveniently, predictably heartbreaking that probably that no one will notice.

We've been here, we've done this!

It's just such a boring answer. It's a safety answer. I can promise you, this was not part of the plan when he first tied Zoro to a pole in a marine courtyard. This is very much after the fact, and that's FINE. There are very, very, VERY few writers creating and sort of weekly/monthly/continuous series media that go in there with a full plan, entirely story laid out in detail and every single one followed through to the letter. That is actually a scientifically accurate way to diagnose someone who has signed a contract with a demon lord. The ability to continue to build your story while maintaining a mostly accurate canon while also half making it up on the fly because, oh, wow you hadn't expected that thing to go that way. Wait, what even was your original plan? I mean it's an amazing skill¹ to be able to put out serialized content keeping the story on track, the lore mostly without contradiction, and most importantly, still having a clear way forward even though it almost definitely not the path you cleared originally. It's not easy to do and I applaud and recognize when they have that skill, I have no problem with the idea that Zoro's parents had not really been solidified as characters until relatively recently.

But seeing as there has been over a decade to think on that one, it's amazing it ended up being... Exactly what you have guessed based on every other set of parents in One Piece. But again, it's a safe answer.

Look, this way no one expects to make an appearance, he doesn't have to maybe possibly change anything he'd already decided.

Ah, they never came because they're dead and we're never going to flash back to then so.... Great. Finished with that, job done. And he didn't even have to think about Zoro's backstory and risk accidentally developing.

But! If he ever needs to shove something into Zoro's backstory with absolutely no foreshadowing, he has now created emergency backups.

He could just... Pull a Vinesmoke Sanji, or close enough. He's given a Wano connection, absolutely no characterization and luckily only introduced plot points that would be incredibly useful when attempting to emotionally manipulate the audience so they fail to notice the giant new "Well, THIS is brand new!" Product, and it has to be accepted as valid because it happened in the past. That means it helped define Zoro!

[wfagamerants]

A thing I often see people bring up and have also had some…questionable experiences with, is the concept of Mario canon and lore.

Because of it, I wanna give my take in a more detailed manner, to have it out in the open.

Right off the bat, I do think Mario has a degree of lore, because frankly, a certain base amount is normal to have. We do see concepts revisited and older games referenced. Every once in a while, we even get some surprising examples of tighter continuity.

The shining example of this is the Mario & Luigi series. These games are remarkably tightly knit into each other, with many recurring characters, original and established, as well as genuine arcs for characters like Fawful, Luigi and Bowser. There is also Super Mario Land 1, 2 and Wario Land all following up on each other or WarioWare calling back to old stuff in a surprisingly tight manner a lot.

Those are some examples and here is a key thing: this tends to happen more when a series keeps the same developer. A sub-series can have surprisingly continuity at times on its own, but how much we see of that elsewhere varies strongly. Luigi’s ghost hunting career has gotten plenty of acknowledgement, but Mario being the head of a toy company? Not so much.

While there is something there, I do heavily, heavily disagree with the idea that Mario has a consistent continuity and canon, because frankly, it doesn’t.

This Miyamoto quote says it best:

He doesn’t say the characters are actors, but more so compares Mario to old cartoons that could always do their own thing with say, the characters taking on new occupations every episode, without needing to fit in with what came before. Mario is very much like that.

To add to this, Mario has no officially recognized canon. There is no Mushroom Kingdom Hystoria or leaked internal documents or interview statements or TailsTube kind of shows that give us a timeline of when what game happens or which ones ‘’count’’.

This especially goes for the spin-offs. Nothing ever stated them to be lesser or any kind of ‘’non-canon’’, Mario is Mario and Nintendo has never made a hierarchy of how much each game ‘’counts’’ or ‘’matters’’.

The only games I’d genuinely call out of the picture are Smash, due to official statements that the characters there are toys and old licensed stuff like Hotel Mario or the edutainment games, which Nintendo has distanced itself from.

Aside from that, I firmly believe every game is fair game to take into consideration and not be dismissed, which often happens with the spin-offs when discussing inconsistencies, which Mario has a lot of:

Dry Bowser

While multiple versions of the same character appearing on spin-off rosters is nothing unusual, Dry Bowser has some more oddities to him.

In the first New Super Mario Bros, Mario Party 10 and Jr’s Journey, Dry Bowser is Bowser’s undead form, simple as that.

Meanwhile in spin-offs he often appears as his own character, but that isn’t where it ends. He appears as a explicably separate character in the Mario & Sonic games, even in a story mode capacity, Puzzles & Dragons has him as a bonus boss and unlockable character, with Bowser already in your party at this point and Mario Party Island Tour goes as far as to call him a close family friend:

It extends outside of spin-offs too, since he also appears in Super Mario 3D Land and New Super Mario Bros 2’s special worlds, even kidnapping Luigi in the former right after Bowser is defeated. What’s notable here is that Bowser is shown alive and well in the credits of both games:

So yeah, there is no consistency here. 3D Land and NSMB2 are more of an implied case, since we never see them together, but it does show how Dry Bowser is just whatever the game needs him to be.

Where did Mario come from?

The Yoshi games and Mario & Luigi Partners in Time portray Mario and Luigi as having been born and grown up in the Mushroom Kingdom, even knowing Peach since toddler days in case of the latter. Many take this to assume that the original backstory that Mario is from New York, was a western invention, with no basis in japanese materials but that is not the case.

Miyamoto himself has confirmed that Mario Bros takes place in New York:

And Perfect Ban Mario Character Daijiten, a japanese Mario character guide book, written in collaboration with Nintendo, further states that Mario is italian, Foreman Spike an american and that Pauline lives in New York, indicating that Donkey Kong Arcade, Mario Bros and Wrecking Crew all take place there. Most recently, we found out the movie is gonna go with the New York backstory.

While the movie is it’s own take on Mario, Nintendo is directly involved with its creation, so them accepting this backstory in Mario’s biggest mainstream outing outside of video games yet, is telling. It’s even specifically Brooklyn, which was only specified in western materials, showing once again those do matter.

Worth noting is that the series has had other instances of a real world too. The GBC and GBA Tennis and Golf games have story modes centering around humans in a real world, who compete to earn the right to travel to the Mushroom Kingdom. The Mario & Sonic series is also a thing, as odd as the series is, it has never been singled out as not counting and the same can be said about Mario Kart Tour’s real world themed tracks.

Super Mario Odyssey meanwhile goes for an odd middle ground with New Donk City. The New York inspiration is blatant and it is said to be the place Arcade Donkey Kong took place in. At the same time the New Donkers are at odds with the otherwise cartoony Mario humans and we previously already had Big Ape City in Donkey Kong Land, as the city implied to be where DKArcade took place in. It’s not impossible for them to be the same place, but there is nothing official that confirms or denies it.

Dr. Mario 64’s Wario Land Cast

In Wario Land 3, the mooks you were facing are eventually revealed to be the people of the music box world, cursed by Rudy and once he’s defeated, the curse is broken.

In Dr. Mario 64 meanwhile, these same mooks return, either explicitly as minions to Rudy or hanging out, away from the music box world. There is no explanation for it, it’s just a very different interpretation of them.

Paper Mario

The Paper Mario series was never really implied to be a different world from regular Mario. Several PM64 characters even show up in other games and things like Mario’s paper abilities are contextualized as curses, rather than natural abilities, with nobody ever pointing out someone being made out of paper.

Sticker Star onwards change the latter at least, significantly. The paper gimmicks go from visual gag reminders of the artstyle, to being a main attraction and the characters are so fully aware they are made out of paper that they not only regularly point it out, but part of Origami King’s plot even hinges on it.

That said, while this is a big shift in the series, it still makes it little more than an increasingly more stylized take on the Mario universe for the day. It’s not unlike how Yoshi’s Story and Yoshi’s Topsy-Turvy gave a story context to the visual style of the games, while Woolly World and Crafted World just treated it as being how the world always was. It’s just how the world looks for the day, like a special cartoon episode to call back to that Miyamoto quote.

Paper Jam meanwhile specifically treats Paper Mario as its own world, which has never been revisited or acknowledged since. It’s just a one-time thing they did for the sake of the crossover, rather than something with big franchise-wide implications.

The lack of non-Sticker Star elements in Paper Jam and how difficult it can be to reconcile the old Paper Mario world with the current one (especially how much the current genericness of the species is being pointed out in the new games), invites the idea only the new games take place in the book, but that is again, never officially said in any capacity.

The Star Festival

The Star Festival in Super Mario Galaxy is said to occur every 100 years. Despite this, a new one happens in Galaxy 2.

I have seen many arguments that this is the result of the universe being reconstructed at the end of Galaxy, but not only has this never been officially stated, but it’s framed like Mario never met Rosalina before, with her even introducing herself during the ending:

And no, there was no implied memory vibe, Mario even hears her voice at the end of Galaxy.

King Boo.

Luigi’s Mansion Dark Moon frames it like King Boo hasn’t seen Luigi ever since the first Luigi’s Mansion, since he just broke out since, which is framed like a twist:

In the context of the LM games on their own, this isn’t a problem, but it is strange given the many appearances King Boo has made between the two games as well as a line where he mentions Baby Luigi as if he was a separate person, like in the spin-offs:

Just an oddity since there is no official timeline that places the games into a particular order and no, LM King Boo and Spin-Off King Boo have never been treated like separate characters.

Those are some notable examples I can think of. There isn’t a clean way to reconcile things without jerry picking and I don’t agree with that practice because again: Mario has no officially recognized canon, so doing so would only end up being a series of pick and choose with no official backing on what sources are the correct ones.

And the thing is, that’s okay. As that Miyamoto quote already went into, Mario is a loose cartoon canon, where things can be altered as needed in the name of making a fun game.

There are plenty of series with a genuinely defined canon you can track, read up on and see officially set in stone. Mario is not one of them and it doesn’t need to be.

[alesseia]

make me write: poll!!

jumping on the poll bandwagon because I have not touched Scrivener in FOREVER (read: two weeks)

unfortunately, I do not have multiple stories like most people on Writeblr since I keep fixating on the same story and its characters, lmao, so IDK if I can do the same thing everyone else is doing

HOWEVER, I will be taking my thesis in BFA Creative Writing this year and I am going to do doing something based on my main story! I was planning on finishing Book 1 (which I already have 4 chapters for), but my thesis adviser is heavily discouraging I do a full novel (minimum requirement for word count is only 15k and we're supposed to finish writing that with revisions by early December) so I've got a bunch of backup plans just in case I can't convince her!!

so here's a poll + bonus read more for further description of thesis ideas!!

Book 1 (Excerpt)

This is actually the option my adviser recommended the most. I have already written the first four chapters, even doing major revisions, and that already hit the 15k minimum word count, so she said that just revising these chapters would be the easiest option.

My biggest gripe with this is that I don't want to end it after Chapter 4. It ends on a mediocre cliffhanger, and we don't meet the other two main characters until later on. Not to mention, the BFA CW majors in my university get to (independently) publish and sell copies of their thesis at the end of the year, so it would be much more satisfying if I do the full Book 1.

Anthology: Thematic

I was thinking I could do instead a thematic short story collection linking the common traits of the main characters (Axel, Avery, Leandro, and Nathan). Each of the short stories would focus on a different MC's backstory. The central theme would be their loneliness.

The stories are (without giving away certain plot twists in Book 1):

AXEL: a story about a group of friends playing together, which turns out to be a product of Axel’s imagination

AVERY: the story behind the fallout with her ex-friends

LEANDRO: Leandro talking to his family about getting friends while figuring out he's a trans guy

NATHAN: Nathan talking to other children working under his drug pimp spirit stain dealer

Anthology: Characterization

This one was inspired by fanfiction, specifically the concept of the same characters in alternate universes. How can you tell the character is still the same character when they have a completely different backstory and setting? Up to where do you draw the lines?

The various settings are:

Historical — Pride and Prejudice but set in the late Spanish colonial period and from the POV of Elizabeth’s (Avery) best friend (Axel)

Sci-fi time travel — From 2099 CE, Axel is asked to travel to 2013 Metro Manila to chase after a time-traveling criminal (Raven)

Urban fantasy (Aswangs) — Axel the friendly manananggal helping their friend Leandro, who recently discovered they’re a manananggal

Modern real-life — Axel signing up their friend Nathan on a blind date auction during high school fair season

Alesseia (Original) — Axel discussing how to beat Rex with all of their friends

Anthology: Timeline

A short story collection featuring the same character, likely Axel, at different points in the series. The series is divided into three arcs, so it would likely be:

Before Arc 1

Between Arcs 1 and 2

Between Arcs 2 and 3

After Arc 3

The Actual Book 1

The actual book 1 of Alesseia. Tentatively titled the Dragon's Deed. I really, really, REALLY want this, but like. it's gonna be what, 50k words 😭 so unless I pull a NaNoWriMo again, I can't blame Ma'am

Anyway if you read all that, thank you SO much!!! I really appreciate your support 😄 wishing you the best of luck with writing as well!!

[jagged1]

My Favorite Accessory is You 2/?

Fandom: Outlast Rating: Teen Characters: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park Summary: Waylon is a semi-famous, genderfucking, thirst trapping cosplayer. Eddie is his costumer, sometimes cosplay partner, and fan favorite boyfriend. They also do memes. Contains: N/A Word Count: ~800 AO3 Link

It doesn't take nearly as long as Waylon expected for Eddie to ask more about his "work". He's not ashamed, but it's not exactly easy to explain either. It feels even more awkward explaining it to Eddie of all people. He's so sweet and chivalrous; Waylon's nervous about how he'll take it.

No. That’s not fair to Eddie. He’s been enthusiastically listening and contributing to Waylon’s discussion of his latest cosplay, even if the word and concept is still foreign to him. Waylon can hardly wait to try some of the tips Eddie’s shared, and is actually more excited to work on the actual clothing part of a cosplay instead of the props for once. It’s not his strength and he knows it.

…he’s getting sidetracked here. Point is: Eddie is lovely, understands his less than typical interests, is actively engaging with Waylon about them, and he deserves a straightforward answer to do with what he will.

When he looks up again, Eddie's eyebrows are furrowed in concern. "Waylon, dear, if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to." He extends his hand across the table, palm up, offering, but not insisting. “I must admit, I’m quite curious. But, please, don’t think you have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Oh my god, he’s gonna cry if Eddie doesn’t take this well.

He reaches for Eddie’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He waits for Eddie to squeeze back before reluctantly pulling back. Eddie looks like Waylon’s just pulled the rug out from underneath him before he schools his expression. Shit, he should’ve said something first, but he might as well keep going now.

“It’d be easier to show you first. I can answer any questions you have after, okay?” He keeps his eyes on Eddie, freezing from where he was about to pull out his phone.

Eddie nods. “Yes, of course. Whatever you think is best.” His voice is so gentle, Waylon’s heart feels like it’s going to burst with affection for this man.

"Thank you." He grabs his phone and reluctantly drops Eddie's gaze. After a quick moment of mental debate, he pulls up his Ko-fi. He figures it’ll be the best way to introduce the whole idea of…everything to him.

He slides his phone across the table for Eddie to scroll his page. “This is what I do.” Without his phone to play with, Waylon ends up wiggling in his seat with nervous energy as he watches Eddie’s expression for any signs of how he feels about his potential boyfriend supporting himself with cosplay and somewhat inappropriate photos.

He watches as his face goes from serious and mild concern, to puzzled, to surprised, to very intense as he scrolls through the various tabs. He knows he’s poking around the site based on how Eddie keeps tapping on the screen.

Waylon feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin when Eddie finally looks up from his phone. His throat feels incredibly dry, so he swallows. It sort of helps. Too bad he can’t literally swallow his nerves. “Well? Do you have any questions?”

Eddie’s face is unreadable as he nods. “Just the one.”

He can feel his spine stiffen as he braces himself.

Eddie breaks out into a teasing smile as he holds Waylon’s phone up, a photo of his BloodRayne cosplay on display. “If I wanted to see more of your work, would you show me, or would I have to pay like the others?”

Waylon huffs a breathless laugh as he collapses face first onto the table, barely catching himself. “Oh my god, Eddie! Way to scare me!” He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye as he sits up, meeting Eddie’s smirking face. “But really? You’re okay with this?” He could’ve left it there, but he needs to hear it.

Eddie’s expression softens at seeing how nervous Waylon is. “Of course I am, darling.” He puts Waylon’s phone down and reaches for his hand again, which Waylon eagerly gives. He alternates between stroking the back of his hand with his thumb and gentle squeezes. “I admit, it did take me a moment to understand what I was looking at, but you clearly enjoy it. I can see all the hard work you put into your costumes and photos. Who am I to judge you for something you love to do?”

He waits a beat, enjoying the way Waylon flushes in happiness before continuing. “Though, I was quite serious earlier.” He slowly lifts Waylon’s hand to his mouth, giving him plenty of time to pull away. “I’d love to see more.” He presses a delicate kiss to the back of his hand before asking, voice low. “Would you show me?”

Waylon is a puddle of bright red goo, but he manages to squeak out a resounding “Yes!”

[railingsofsorrow]

Ruptures Of A High End

[spencer reid x reader]

[moordboard by @moonzlighx ]

summary: based on the prompt “if tomorrow didn't come, what would you do today?”

pairing: spencer reid × fem!bau!reader

word count: 2K

warnings/content: discussion about having kids; break up; there's a wedding; angst.

song recommendation: gravity by coldplay

A/N: the lovers to exes trope s2; tell me if y'all want a part 2 cause I'm open to suggestions. i edited this three times but I still don't think it was enough?

➶ ➷

They tried to make it work. They really did.

But, divergent lands create more ruptures than they keep a solid ground. So, it was hard.

For Y/N, it was heart wrecking.

“I can't keep doing this if I'm always gonna think your mindset will change any time, Spencer.”

Y/N was tired. It had been an awful night after a harsh case with kids that the team had went through. The case triggered something in her and she thought it over on their way home; she thought a lot. Maybe, she should've stayed quiet and kept it to herself. Nevertheless, this subject would come to bite their asses later on in the future. It was better to do it now and have this over with.

“If you think I'm going to change my mind,” Spencer begin, resting his satchel on the dinner table quietly. He had his back to her. “Couldn't this happen with you, too?”

“What?”

“Couldn't you change your mind?” He repeated as if she hadn't hear it in the first place. “I mean, the concept of getting married and having kids that is out there is overrated.” Spencer slowly turned to her, watching her reaction closely. When he detected no danger, he carried on.

That was probably the worst mistake he had ever made.

“We could be different...” He reasons, stepping towards Y/N, “We won't be our parents, Y/N.”

When he tried to reach for her hand, she yanked it back. Face scrunching up in indignation.

“Do you hear yourself right now?”

Spencer sighed, taking two steps forward as she takes three steps back, shaking her head.

“Y/N—”

“No, Spencer. You're not getting the whole point of this conversation. I won't and I don't want to have kids.” She clarified, staring right into his eyes. Watching his shoulders drop in disappointment didn't make her stop. “You think our job and the things we see everyday are a problem? They're the least of my concerns!”

The silence that followed was taunting, and yet, decisive.

For Spencer, that was pure torture for he knew what was about to come.

“We're too different. Our plans don't match. Even if we thought that this wouldn't be a problem on the beginning... It's here now.”

“Don't—”

“We don't work, Spencer—”

“Stop!” He exclaimed, “This isn't true. What about all these years, huh? Did it mean anything to you?”

Y/N felt her stomach turn with the look in his eyes. How could he say that? How could he doubt her love? If anything, it was precisely because she loved him that she was doing this. Setting him free.

“It means everything to me,” She croaked out. “I love you more than anything else in this world, but I can't and I won't wait for you to blame me for my choices later on. This just wouldn't be fair to any of us.”

Once he left her apartment that night—a place they used to call home—something pinched her chest; perhaps her heart begging to be pulled back together. It was in pieces. Still, she knew she had made the right choice.

After the breakup, Spencer and Y/N had to be professional enough. They did work in the same place after all. Otherwise, things would be a bit nerve-wracking. In the beginning, it was hard to adjust. They didn't share fond glances nor did they knowledge each other at all. Derek noticed it first, then, Emily.

“What do you think happened?” Emily pretended to be immersed on adding sugar on her coffee so nobody would stare with curiosity in their conversation.

“I have no idea, Em.” Derek shrugs.

Then, they went back to their seats while analysing Y/N and Spencer for the rest of the plane ride.

It was a Wednesday when JJ approached Y/N after seeing her zoning-out during a meeting. She had been unfocused all day.

“Do you want to talk?” The blonde touches her shoulder softly.

Y/N waits for the file that Gancia sent over to print before shaking her head in denial.

“Do you need to talk?”

Y/N sighs, grabbing the pages. She ignores the question and leaves the room with no other interchange. JJ doesn't press the subject again.

When the case is done and they are back at the headquarters, Y/N offers JJ her car keys and tells her to take them to a bar so she could vent off because yes, she needed to talk. Jennifer smiles in response and snatches the keys.

“I miss him, Jayge. I miss him more than... I don't know. I don't even know! I've nothing to compare to because there's nothing I've missed more than Spencer these past few days.”

“I hate myself for breaking his heart, but I wouldn't do it otherwise or- or he would resent me.” More than he already does, she thinks. But doesn't say.

“You followed your heart and that's what matters, Y/N. You two will get better after a while. Believe me.” That was her advice. Y/N loved her friend wholeheartedly so she hugged JJ and slept in her arms that night. It was the first night of sleep she had had in days.

But one question kept wondering around her head as she fell asleep: Did she followed her heart truly?

For Spencer, it wasn't that much easier. Just that instead of the usual self-destructive actions that Y/N did, he opted for drowning in work until he felt tired. And then, he would trade a few hours of sleep to work again.

Five years later and you could say that Spencer and Y/N achieved a level of acquaintances.

“You've come a long away from stepping on people's feet.”

Spencer snickered. He was the one keeping her on her feet as she swayed on her feet in the middle of the improvised dancefloor.

“I'm not that awkward anymore, Y/N.”

She gave him a full displayed smile, eyes fluttering shut slowly. Until her head ended up on his shoulder and she sighed. “I think I drank too much,”

“You think?”

Alright, they were more like friends, now.

An upbeat song started playing. Spencer stopped, but before he could step away, she wrapped her arms around his neck, making him shiver. But she didn't realize that. Not even he realised it until later that night.

“Why did you stop?” Her head was tilted to the side and her face scrunched up as she looked up at him. Spencer's eyes traveled through her expression quietly, before a smile broke the corner of his lips and he looked away, shaking his head. “What is so funny—”

“The slow song stopped.” He clarified as if she hadn't noticed.

“So?” Y/N shrugs. Tapping his shoulder twice, she adjust her position again, lifting her chin. “It's still playing a slow song in my head.”

That's the kind of thing Y/N should never say, because that's the kind of thing Spencer missed about her all the time.

They kept on dancing until they feet melted and until everyone else had left the dance floor. The same song playing on their minds, except, they didn't knew that. They never knew a lot of things these past few years. Which was both good and bad.

“If tomorrow didn't come, what would you do today?” Y/N played with some piano chords as the words left her mouth. Spencer quit staring at a painting in Rossi's living room and turned to her with a crease in his forehead.

“What?”

She repeated the question patiently, never moving her attention away from the instrument. It truly spiked her admiration, the piano. Something so delicate yet it could be so powerful.

Spencer watched her fingers move distractedly while playing no specific music.

“I'd visit my mom,” He begin, sitting by her side when she mentioned for him to. “... read her a book... Then, I would probably spend the rest of the day at the beach, watching the sea come and go.”

She smiled softly, “You haven't always been too fond of the sea.”

“Not before you, I wasn't.” They shared accomplices smiles.

“Yet, it's too deep and too unknown. We never know what's right bellow our feet when we're swimming, have you realise that?” Her hands moved away from the piano to rest on her lap, “The reflection of the water clouds our vision.”

“That is true. But that's the beauty of it: we don't have to know everything.”

Y/N felt that on a deeper level. She had always been the one planning everything and in desperate need to know every detail about every little thing; in their relationship, that had been a problem. After they broke up, that had been a problem for her. As she let go of control, her body and mind became acquainted and a little bit free. Yes, Spencer. We don't need to know everything.

“What would you do if there was no tomorrow?” He threw the question back at her, making her smirk.

“I would kick some butts and tell the truth in people's faces.” Spencer cracked a laugh and she laughed too “What? I was gonna die anyway! Might as well enjoy the time left.”

“That's all?”

“No.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Then...?”

Y/N poked his cheek, which gifted a bewildered look from Spencer, “You don't wanna know.”

After he recovered and cleaned his throat, he asked, “Why? Would you kill someone?”

Her laugh echoed throughout the room. The corner of his lips lifted at that. “No, Spencer. Not that.”

His heart squirmed with the way she pronounced his name; it sounded like honey.

“I do wanna know. You're making me curious.”

“Oh, but that is the whole point.”

Spencer scoffed in disbelief. Y/N only gave him a smug grin.

“You really want to know, Reid?” He didn't like when she called him Reid. It sounded too professional and it tasted bitter in his ears. He preferred sweet tastes. He only hummed in agreement, studying her features thoughtfully. When she glanced up at him, her eyes carried something he couldn't grasp. And he used to grasp every unsaid word inside those orbs, but that didn't happen now. Not after five years. “I'd kiss you.”

Maybe, there was still a lot of alcohol in her system.

“I'd kiss you and I'd tell you a lot of things I should've told you when tomorrow was still a fact. Because then, I could die happy with no regrets.”

He stared at her blankly as she smiled sadly and looked down at her hands. “Told you wouldn't want to know.” She let out in a whisper.

“Wh-what would you tell me?”

Y/N looked up, eyes widened.

“Tomorrow is happening, isn't it?” Spencer searches for something in her eyes, “What would you tell me, Y/N?”

Her next step was to take his hands and caress it with her thumbs. While Spencer watched her in expectation, she watched their hands. “Believe me. If I tell you, that is how everything turns to dust.”

Spencer quickly search for her hand and took it, not letting her walk away. But as soon as their eyes met, Luke entered the living room and wrapped his arms around their shoulders. “Finally found you two. It's like you vanished out of nowhere, guys!”

Y/N retracted her hand quickly, before Luke could grasp what was happening. Given his swaying person he wouldn't notice a thing. Spencer gave her a pleading look. One she ignored.

“Well, here we are. And now it's just Reid cause I need to find a restroom. I definitely drank too much.” Y/N skitters away, leaving Spencer with a drunk Luke to his care.

“You've got pretty curls tonight, Doc.” Luke lets out faintly, playing with one strand. Spencer frowns, wiggling away from Luke's hold.

“Thanks.”

He left the room annoyed and with an uneasy feeling on his chest. Something unfinished. There was something unfinished.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

How about a smut prompt no. 7 with Tony Stark ? ❤❤❤❤

Love to lose

A/N: Thanks for requesting this lovely! Hope you like it :))

Gif’s not mine! Credits to the owner

Prompts used: Oral sex & “First one to make a noise loses.”

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, it’s dirty okay...

Word count: 2k

Requests & Challenges

Tony Stark Taglist: @raspberrymama @boop-le-snoot @ladyeliot @make-a-memory-drink-it-up @loveisallyouneed1125 @ownsmyheart @anthonyjanthony666 @downeyreads @the-secret-thief @getlostsquidward @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @elemephstudies @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @suchababie @another-stark-sub @littlegasps @kahlanmars @supraveng @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Taglists open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be in any of these ;))

.

“First one to make a noise loses? Seriously?”

“Yeah!”

“No!”

“I honestly thought you’d be more adventurous Tony.”

“Honey you’ll get all the adventure you want once I’m done with this project. You remember the night of four times, don’t you?”

Tony raised an eyebrow and smirked as your eyes lit up with thoughts of the night he mentioned, cheeks growing warm as your mind flooded with memories of the aforementioned night.

That night you’d lost all sense of cognition and your legs were pure jelly from being utterly fucked out.

It was never a dull moment when it came to you and Stark in the bedroom. He knew all the right ways to drive you crazy and you had come to learn to push all the right buttons to drive him insane.

“Tony come on! I know you’re up for it.”

You pointed to the half-mast erection currently staring back at you.

He glanced down at it before shaking his head and returning to the screen, soon getting engrossed in the information displayed in front of him. Eyebrows knitting together in concentration while his fingers flew over the surface, probably in search of something you didn’t care about.

You scowled for a little while, arms crossed over your chest before walking towards him with a look of determination that hid unattended lust.

Tony didn’t mind you stepping in between his legs as he leaned against the table behind, until you ghosted your fingers over the button of his denims.

Once you popped it open and undid his fly, he shot you a warning look before his phone rang, giving you time to push the jeans and his boxers down just enough to let his erection bounce free.

“You’re free to do whatever you want only if you’re prepared for the consequences sweetheart.” He warned before answering Phil Coulson’s call.

Desire bloomed deep in your belly as his words sent tingles down your spine, knowing the punishment would either be really good or really bad, depending on Tony’s mood. But you were willing to take the risk, it was always worth it in the end.

Shrugging, you dropped down to your knees, his semi-erect cock waiting for your ministrations as you eyed it before gazing up at Tony through your eyelashes innocently.

He was deep in conversation on the phone but the tight grip of his free hand on the edge of the counter and tapping of fingers against the surface indicated he was waiting for you to make your move.

Tony exhaled a breath he was unconsciously holding as your hand wrapped around his length. Taking your time with it, your hand lazily stroked his cock, thumb brushing over the tip every now and then.

“Please I understand Agent, don’t bore me with those unnecessary details..oh!”

Glancing down, he suppressed the rest of his reaction as your tongue joined the party. Small kitten licks over the tip before you drew a strip all the way to the base, all the while watching his demeanour change from composed to flustered.

You took him in your mouth and began swirling your tongue around his length, smirking when he faltered and brought his hand down to move your hair out of your face.

“I’m going over the details n-now. Oh yes—yes I’ll call Fury once I’m—I’m almost done here.”

Tony didn’t wait for Coulson to answer before he cut the call and practically threw the phone away. Letting out a groan, he jerked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper in your mouth as he grabbed you by your hair roughly, guiding your mouth over his cock.

“You’re in so much trouble baby...”

You simply hummed in response, continuing to finish him off as you increased your speed, feeling him twitch against your lips already. The little grunts Tony uttered spurred you on to bring him closer and closer to climax. Your own arousal had turned your panties moist as you watched his lust-blown eyes shut and bite his lip.

“Ah shit! You want me to cum in your mouth?”

You nodded eagerly as Tony’s hips jolted forward and he cursed out loud before shooting spurts of cum down your throat, face contorted in pleasure as he emptied himself, the warm salty liquid travelling down your throat.

He grabbed you by the back of your neck, making you stand before crashing his lips to yours, tasting himself as you deepened the kiss. You moved your clothed core over his softened cock to get some friction, gaining another groan from Tony who felt how moist you were.

“So wet my dirty girl. Will you give me an hour? I promise I’ll make it worth it.” Tony whispered softly, grabbed your hips to stop your grinding. Reluctant to let you go but the urgency with which Phil had called left him with no other choice than to make you wait.

“Fine. But if you’re late…”

“Trust me babe. I’ll be there sooner than you think.”

“Whatever.” He pecked your pouted lips one last time as you pulled his pants back up, turning to walk upstairs to your shared bedroom.

“Don’t touch yourself.”

“You’re in no position to make demands Stark.”

“Am I not?” Even with your back to him, you could sense he was giving you ‘the look’. The one that screamed ‘no matter what, I’m always in charge’. The man was really going to be the death of you some day.

“Ugh. Fine. Hurry up.”

.

“Okay so we need to establish some ground rules first.”

Your eyes snapped up from the book you were pretending to read as Tony swung the bedroom door and got in, locking it before sliding in next to you, resting his back against the headboard.

You were celebrating your victory on the inside because just minutes ago he’d made fun of you for coming up with this game, only to now come up with modifications for the same.

Like a good girl you had behaved, controlled the urge to bring yourself to an orgasm after that little session downstairs. You were still wet, which meant he already had more chances of winning at your game.

This was a bad idea. Why hadn’t you thought this through?

“Hon?”

“Huh?”

“The rules?”

Mentally shaking yourself for zoning out, you sat up straight and faced him.

“Alright. Whines are allowed. Moans aren’t.”

“Fair enough.”

“No oral sex.”

“Not acceptable. You know I owe you for that amazing blow-job. Come on now..”

“Fine. But no fingering.”

Tony made a non-committal huff but agreed, knowing how much his fingers spurred you on.

You went back and forth discussing, rejecting and accepting the terms and conditions as if it were a legit deal.

Soon after you shook on it, there was a switch in the air and neither of you felt the need to say much else except get on with the game.

Climbing in Tony’s lap, you cupped the sides of his face and pressed your lips to his. Softly grazing against each other at first while you fingers teased the base of his neck.

He carded his hands through your hair before pulling you against his chest, hands now splayed across your back as he slanted his mouth over yours and deepened the kiss.

Maneuvering a little so his legs straightened out on the bed, Tony heard a tiny sigh escape your lips as your aroused core met with his growing bulge. Keeping those noises that threatened to leave your mouth turned out to be harder than you had both imagined. You two were quite vocal when it came to sex.

It was difficult, but all the more exciting.

After a while, the make-out session turned out to be insufficient and Tony had you on your back, your clothes removed and thrown carelessly somewhere behind as he settled between your legs.

You had to bite back a moan as Tony’s lips travelled down your neck, littering tiny kisses all over the skin before he found that junction where your neck met your shoulder, the pulse point which he so generously marked a spot on, sure to leave a purple bruise in its place. On cue, your head moved aside to grant him more access as your breaths turned to pants, finding it hard not to think about his bulge that was rubbing so deliciously against your heated core in slow but deliberate thrusts.

You had to push him away to make sure you didn’t lose so soon, that sure earned a chuckle from the genius. Moving further south, he latched onto one of your nipples and flicked his tongue along the bud all the while massaging and kneading the other in his hand. A sigh had involuntarily slipped out, it wasn’t breaking any rules but it sure made Tony gaze up with lust-blown eyes as a smirk appeared on that handsome face.

Trailing kisses along your navel, he reached between your legs and stopped. You shot him a warning look as you sat up on your elbows when his fingers teased along your wet folds, causing him to throw his hands up in surrender before diving in face first into your pussy.

Closing a hand over your mouth, you let your head fall back onto the pillows as Tony licked a fat strip along your wetness, his nose brushing against your bundle of nerves. It didn’t take long for you to feel your heartbeat on your throbbing clit, Tony leaving no stone unturned to make sure you were a needy mess below him.

“What was that baby girl?” He purred, facial hair glazed with your juices when he emerged, giving you a shit-eating grin after you shook your head.

You were so close.

Flipping you on your stomach, you heard him unbutton his jeans and drop them in a low thud on the ground. His hands pulled your ass up in the air, urging the cheeks apart before his cock met your entrance, gathering your wetness, your pussy aching for release at this point.

“Tony..”

“Giving up already?”

Instead of answering, you reached behind, grabbed his cock in your hand and lined him up at your entrance before pushing your hips back. Both of you swallowed your groans as he bottomed out, stretching your walls to the fullest before pulling all the way out and thrusting in.

Your knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets as you were almost ready to give up and accept defeat, until you felt his cock twitch inside you, a sign Tony wasn’t too far along from doing the same either.

Your walls clenched around his cock deliberately, hugging it in their wet warmth and eliciting an involuntary groan from the man.

“What was that honey?”

You teased, repeating the action only to have Tony pull out suddenly, turn you around once more and pull your legs over his shoulder before entering you again.

“You fucking tease..”

“You’re the one to talk. Now shut up and fuck me.”

Snapping his hips to yours at a furious pace, Tony gripped your legs roughly and bit your ankle. The silly little game long forgotten, you let out a pornographic moan as you felt the muscles in your belly contract, thighs tremble and mind turn into a fuzzy blur.

“Cum with me Tony..” you begged as he let go of your legs and buried his face in your neck, a hand snaking downward to rub your oversensitive clit.

“Do that thing again.”

His urgent whisper came out muffled by your hair but you knew what he was talking about. You granted his wish by pulling on his cock with your walls and felt his hips lose their rhythm. He came loud and hard, spilling inside you in spurts triggering your own orgasm as you cried out, digging your nails in his back as you shuddered.

Once you felt yourself float back down to reality, you brought your hands to caress Tony’s hair while he chuckled against the skin on your neck, repeatedly kissing you over there.

“It’s a draw then?” He mumbled.

“Yep.”

“You want a rematch?”

“Definitely.”

[homosexuhauls]

Joanna Moorhead

Culture of silencing any challenge to prevailing ideology is damaging academic freedom, says professor

The press release that accompanies Prof Kathleen Stock’s new book says she wants to see a future in which trans rights activists and gender-critical feminists collaborate to achieve some of their political aims. But she concedes that this currently seems fanciful. As far as she is concerned, the book, Material Girls, sets out her stall – and she knows a lot of people will find it distasteful.

Stock, a professor of philosophy at the University of Sussex, says the key question she addresses – itself offensive to many – is this: do trans women count as women?

Whatever else about her views is controversial, she is surely on firm ground when she writes that this question has become surrounded by toxicity. But the problem for her is, at least partly, that many people do anything they can to avoid answering it. “Very few people who are sceptical talk about it directly, because they’re frightened,” she says. “It’s so hard psychologically to say, in reply: ‘I’m afraid not.’”

Stock is at pains to say she is not a transphobe, and also that she is sympathetic to the idea that many people feel they are not in the “right” body. What she says she opposes, though, is the institutionalisation of the idea that gender identity is all that matters – that how you identify automatically confers all the entitlements of that sex. And she believes that increasingly in universities and the wider world, that is a view that cannot be challenged.

“There’s a taboo against saying this, but it’s what I believe,” she says. “It’s fair enough if people want to disagree with me, but this is what I think.”

That last statement is loaded, too, because the gender identity row is closely linked, especially on university campuses, with freedom of speech. Campuses are a minefield for those wanting to discuss these issues, she says, and she has faced calls for her university to sack her. So she is supportive of the government’s controversial plans for a free speech bill, which critics including English PEN, Article 19 and Index on Censorship have argued will have the opposite effect.

In a joint letter, they argued that the legislation “may have the inverse effect of further limiting what is deemed ‘acceptable’ speech on campus and introducing a chilling effect both on the content of what is taught and the scope of academic research exploration”.

But Stock backs the bill: “I think vice-chancellors and university management groups have shown that they can’t manage the modern problems around suppression of academic freedom. I think there are some genuine instances of unfair treatment of controversial academics, and those academics should be able to seek meaningful redress.”

This week the University of Essex apologised to two professors, Jo Phoenix and Rosa Freedman, after an independent inquiry found the university had breached its free speech duties when their invitations or talks were cancelled after student complaints.

Stock grew up in Montrose, Scotland, the daughter of a philosophy lecturer and a newspaper proofreader, and studied for her degree at Exeter College, Oxford, going on to do an MA at the University of St Andrews and a PhD at Leeds.

Having come out as gay relatively late in life, she now lives in Sussex with her partner and two sons from her previous marriage. She regards her OBE, awarded earlier this year for services to higher education, as a signal that her views have at least some backing in the establishment.

“Academics being online, students being online – it’s introduced a whole new landscape for dealing with controversial ideas, especially when those ideas are controversial within your peer group or a student body. Threats to academic freedom don’t just come from China, or millionaires trying to buy a library wing for your college; they also come from students whipping up a petition within seconds of you saying something and trying to get you fired.”

Sometimes, she claims, it is more insidious than sackings: “For academics [the gender identity debate] has a chilling effect, because academics believe their careers may suffer in ways that are less visible: they don’t get promoted, or they’re removed from an editorial board.” The net result of all this, she says, is an impoverishment of ideas and knowledge, and damage to the dissemination of information.

Because another of Stock’s key arguments in her book is that her own profession, academia, has failed to look in detail at some claims made by trans activists. She questions some of the data that gets shared regarding violence against trans people, saying that a lot of it is produced by groups that adhere to a particular narrative.

“I don’t doubt that transphobic crime occurs, but I want to know to what extent it occurs in a way that could help the trans community better understand the problem it faces.” She’s disappointed, she says, in some fellow academics for not rising above the fray. “I thought the point of philosophy was that you would be able to argue things without resorting to ad hominem attacks – I thought that was the point of our training.”

How, then, in her view, have we got to where we are? Stock takes issue with Stonewall, the LGBTQ+ charity, which campaigns for trans inclusion and opposes the views of gender-critical feminists. The charity’s Diversity Champions programme is very popular on campuses, and Stock believes this has in part “turned universities into trans activist organisations” through their equality, diversity and inclusion departments.

Beyond this, the introduction of student fees has played its part in the current situation, Stock believes. “As soon as students started to pay, they became customers, and universities became much more deferential. They started talking about coproduction of knowledge, giving them much more choice over the whole experience.” The problem with that, she believes, is that “some young people come along with fixed ideas about gender identity theory, and it’s awkward – especially when universities are branding themselves as LGBT-friendly and queer-friendly.”

Philosophy is a vast space, most of it without risk of abuse. So what keeps her in this particular arena? “I was bullied as a child and I think that gave me experience of social ostracisation and toughened me up,” she says. “I’ve also got amazing support. Sure, some philosophers and colleagues are against my views, but others are very supportive.

“Plus it’s personal for me: I’ve struggled with my body in terms of femininity. I could easily aged 15 have decided I was non-binary or even a boy. And I feel very worried for teenagers who are now foreclosing reproductive possibilities and their future, or damaging their bodily tissues in irreversible ways, based on an idea that they may come to relinquish at a later date.”

One tragedy of the gender identity debate is how hate-filled and polarised it has become. Stock says she has suffered online abuse, but makes it clear that she is going to continue to state her case.

Material Girls: Why Reality Matters for Feminism by Kathleen Stock is published by Fleet

[danniburgh]

Give you what you want (Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carrillo)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carrillo

Summary: You’ve been crushing hard on Javier - and Colonel Carrillo. And when they both find out about it, they can’t help but indulge you.

Word count: +11.1k

Chapter warnings: mild angst, mentions of violence, divorce talk, discussion of polyamorous relationship. OT3 SMUT, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, double penetration, alcohol, a lot of cum lol

A/N: this is a collab between me, @maharani-radha-writes​ and @queenofthefaceless, okay, yes this is a repost (basically the blog in which this os was posted blocked me). originally posted on april 6th 2021

ao3 // Masterlist // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

Carrillo slammed his face on the steering wheel of his car with a groan. He had just spent all day in court finalizing his divorce—which had been going on for months—and just as he had gotten home, he realized that he had forgotten his service pistol at the office. Something he was not allowed to bring in the courtroom.

Fuckers.

He had separation anxiety from it, so even though he had multiple spares in the house, he had one trusty weapon, and he wouldn’t be caught dead without it. He glanced at the clock, and saw that it was only eight o’clock, so it wasn’t too late for him to swing back to base and grab it. Shaking his head, he turned the ignition of his car back on and reversed out of his driveway to head back to the station.

When he got there, he used his keys to enter through the back doorway, not really wanting to have to greet the guards at the front. He was just… way too done with people that day. Although he and his by then ex-wife had separated amicably (or as amicably as it could get), the divorce had taken a huge toll on him. He and Juliana had separated about five months before, and he had spent that time sitting in lawyers’ conference rooms, arguing over this and that. He was ready to just give her everything and anything she wanted if it meant he could get that painful process over with.

Truth be told, Carrillo was lonely. He had been for a long time, even while he was still married to Juliana. They had been less of a married couple and more like roommates for the past year at least, and it was getting to them both. His job was tough and dangerous–Juliana didn’t understand a lot of it. To be fair, he kept most of it from her, but that got exhausting after a while. He longed to just...let go, and he couldn’t do that with her. And after a while, she had decided that staying married to him (and his job) was more trouble than it was worth. He couldn’t blame her, not one bit.

It didn’t matter any more. He had firmly closed that chapter of his life, and was ready to move on. He didn’t know what the future looked like for him, but the only thing that he was sure of was that Pablo Escobar would be dead. He would make sure of it–even if he died trying.

After finding his service pistol, which had been stuffed in a holster under his desk, Carrillo closed the door to his office, and proceeded to walk down the hallway to the back exit. But he stopped when he heard voices coming from the bullpen.

Odd.

He hadn’t seen anyone when he had come in. He turned slightly and strained his ears to try to see if he could discern who it was. Then he heard the distinct Southern American drawl of none other than Steve Murphy. The man had been pulling late nights in the office ever since his wife got up and left him.

“All right, kiddo, care to tell me what the fuck your problem is?”

Who–? Was “kiddo”? It certainly couldn’t be Peña. It was a Friday night, surely Peña was off….doing something (or someone) else.

“What’s my problem? What’s your problem, Murph?”

Oh, it was you. The lone female agent of the DEA. Carrillo had been quite wary of you when you had joined the team about a year before. He really wasn’t sure what, if anything, you would be bringing to the table. And he thought that having two DEA agents was two too many already. But over time, you had proven to be a strong, capable, and intelligent partner, and his respect for you had grown.

Bringing you to Colombia had been a good decision, on the part of your superiors.

Now that he had identified the two people still stuck in the base, he should have been satisfied and been on his way. But something about Steve’s tone of voice kept him rooted to the spot. He really, really shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, especially since he was sure that it was a conversation he was not meant to hear.

“You’re on edge. A lot more than usual,” Steve said, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Steve. Just drop it,” you grumbled.

“Oh, so there is something?” Steve snarked, “Look, I normally would back off and leave you alone, but you’ve been highly distracted lately. And it’s affecting your work. I need to know what’s up or at least confirm that you’re going to get this resolved soon because we need your head in the game.”

Now that Steve mentioned it, Carrillo had noticed that you were...not yourself. And you hadn’t been for a while. But Carrillo was too caught up in his own drama to give it much of a thought.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I’ll try not to be so scatterbrained. I’ll fix it, I promise.”

“Is this what I think it is? The thing you told Connie that I’m not supposed to know about?” Steve asked.

Carrillo knew he absolutely needed to leave. That was not a conversation he should be listening to. But he just could not help it.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Steve. I’ve told Connie a lot of things,” you chuckled, nervously.

“I mean about–” there was a pause, presumably Steve looking around to check that nobody was there, “–your feelings. For, uh, ya know, Peña?”

Oh. That was news.

“And–uh–Carrillo I think?” Steve continued.

Wait...what?

Carrillo whipped his head around so fast that he winced as his neck twinged in protest. Since when...since when did you have feelings? For him? And Peña? What was happening? Someone needed to shoot him because that could not be real.

“Must you say it aloud?” you hissed.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I don’t mean to embarrass you,” Steve apologized, “And normally I would mind my own fucking business, but this is getting out of hand. You really don’t think I notice the cows’ eyes you make at Peña when he’s not looking?”

“I don’t do that!” you denied, indignantly.

“Okay fine, maybe that’s a bit dramatic,” Steve conceded, “But the point still stands. You definitely need to get this fixed. Have you thought, oh I don’t know, telling Peña? Or even Carrillo?”

“Are you crazy?” you stammered, “Do you have any idea what that would do to my career? Not to mention that Carrillo is...fucking married?”

“Well, he’s divorced now,” Steve clarified, “And nobody has to know. It’s nobody else’s business but yours. I’m just saying, think about it ok? You deserve an outlet, just like everyone else.”

Carrillo decided that it was best to not stay and hear what you had to say to that. Instead, he hightailed it out of the base, as quickly as he could, trying to keep his footsteps light so as not to alert you and Steve to his presence. Once he was finally in the safety of his car, he put his head back onto the seat and let out a long breath, trying to figure out what he was going to do with that information. He couldn’t deny that the idea of you having feelings for him was incredibly flattering. You were a very guarded individual and quite hard to read sometimes–not so dissimilar to him. He would have never, in a million years, guessed that you would be interested in him, and that was mostly due to your closed off persona.

But to find out that you had feelings for both him and Peña? That was an interesting development. Carrillo didn’t know how to feel about that. But he can’t deny that it intrigued him...more than it should have. His mother would be completely mortified if she found out that he was entertaining this--whatever it was.

But his mother was not here. His wife was gone, and had taken the kids with her. It was just him, and his large house. And now, apparently, you and possibly Peña. Carrillo tilted his head contemplatively and started the ignition of his car.

Maybe...just maybe, there was something to this whole charade.

**Scene Break 1**

Steve was tired. Scratch that, he was exhausted. Not physically, but mentally.

Javier had been looking at you for far too long, and Steve could taste the yearning and the tension that lingered around the office when Peña looked at you. It was maddening, and Steve had no idea how Peña had managed this long without jumping you. After all, he never seemed to have a problem getting a woman’s attention and keeping it. So, why were you so different?

And the worst part of this whole circus is that you were so blissfully unaware of it. It made Steve’s mouth foam with rage.

When he told Connie over the phone, the previous night, what you had said to him and how you had confessed to being attracted to both men, she actually convinced him to talk to Javi on your behalf. Because Connie knew you, and she knew you would just shut up about it, guard it as if you were a dragon with a treasure, never say a thing, and suffer in silence until your feelings went away. And if they didn’t. Too bad. Steve hadn’t wanted to get involved. After all, you were an adult, and Javier was an adult. You should be able to sort these things out yourself. But alas, that had not happened. And if Steve didn’t do something about it, it was going to get out of hand, quickly.

So when you got up from your desk and got out of the office, Steve walked to Javier and slammed his hand on a pile of files that Javier was almost hiding behind.

“Yes, Murphy, how can I help you?” Peña drawled, trying to keep his voice as even and unaffected as possible.

“Don’t give me that innocent bullshit, Peña,” Steve growled, “I’m so sick of you.”

“What could I have possibly done now?” Javier huffed, pulling a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it. He figured that if he played dumb, Steve would go away.

Alas.

“You, and her,” Steve said, emphasizing his point by jabbing his finger in the direction of the door you had just walked out of, “There’s something between the two of you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Javier decided not to answer that. Instead he just took a puff of his cigarette and stared at Steve, daring him to continue.

“I’m serious Peña, stop playing coy. This is starting to affect your working relationship, and I’m getting sick of it,” Steve grumbled, “Do something about it. Now.”

It took a few moments of silence, but Javier finally decided to concede to Steve. Truth was, Javier’s head was full of thoughts. Full of you. Truth be told, getting infatuated with you was just a matter of time.

You were just… frustratingly attractive, incredibly strong and so damn smart. A dangerous combination, you were almost perfect. And that, scared the shit out of him. It had been a long time since Javier felt like that; he didn’t like the vulnerability of it all, he didn’t like how it was way too apparent that whatever you did, for small that it was, affected him in some way. He didn’t like the fact that he wanted to be with you all the time, see you all the time, talk to you all the time. He wanted to protect you all the time even when he knew you could perfectly protect yourself. And he had been feeling like that for months.

Javier interpreted that as karma, getting so madly, deeply into you and getting absolutely nothing in return. Until Steve chimed in, nosy as ever, to speak about something that was clear as a water drop but he just kept denying from himself.

He replayed what Steve had told him while he puffed from his cigarette and for a split second, and let himself smile at the words of his partner.

Steve was right. He was aware of how much he had been missing and how affected his job seemed to be because of how much time he spent thinking about you. It was so unlike him, and it was very unprofessional. But he just couldn’t help it.

You and your strikingly beautiful being. You letting him hold you close. You, with your hands on him. You and how sweet your lips must taste. You and how your naked body must look in the dimmed lights of his bedroom. Fuck.

So he decided, after his partner all but scolded him about being too dumb to realize, that he was going to face you and just… make things happen.

Steve smiled to himself while looking down at a file when Javier stood up from his own desk and walked out of the office.

“Attaboy,” he mumbled to himself.

**Scene Break 2**

You weren’t sure what it was, but suddenly the air in that bullpen had become oppressive, and you just needed to get out. Well, frankly...you weren’t stupid. You knew what was causing you to feel this way. It was stupid Steve and his stupid way of being right all the time, how the fuck did he do that? At some point, you were going to have to tell Javier (and possibly Carrillo, as well) how you felt, but if you could put it off for longer, you were absolutely going to do so.

You sat on the concrete wall bordering the police base, observing quietly as the citizens of Medellín went about their day, getting lunch and catching up with their colleagues. There was a man selling arepas just a few feet from you, and the smell was amazing. But no matter how tantalizing the scent was, you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat. All you needed was some air. Yeah, that’s what you needed. You’d be fine after a few moments.

Unfortunately, your peace wasn’t to last long, and as you were soon to discover, your observational skills would need a check up because Colonel Horacio Carrillo himself had just plopped himself next to you, and you hadn’t even noticed. Carrillo, for his part, waited a few moments before clearing his throat, startling you from your thoughts, and successfully getting your attention.

Ah shit.

One of the exact men that you didn’t want to deal with right now was sitting right next to you.

Joy.

“Those arepas look fantastic,” he remarked in that lovely accent you really liked, “Do you want one?”

You shook your head.

“No thank you,” you mumbled, “I’m fine.”

Carrillo hummed.

“I’m sure we could find something else if you would prefer. There’s all kinds of food in Medellín,” he replied. But you refused again.

“No, really, I’m fine. I don’t want any food,” you said.

Carrillo tilted his head and clasped his hands together, leaning forward slightly. He gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk, and if you didn’t know him so well, you would have missed it.

“I see,” he observed, amusedly, “So, then, Agent. What do you want?”

You frowned, and furrowed your eyebrows. What...what was he doing?

“I–I don’t want anything,” you replied, completely flabbergasted.

“Hmmm,” Carrillo began, “I don’t believe you. I think you want something.”

You raised your eyebrows at that. You’d never known the Colonel to be so bold.

“I want Escobar dead,” you quipped, “Same as you, I suppose.”

“Ah yes, I certainly want that,” Carrillo agreed, “But I want something else. Something that I imagine might be the same as you.”

You scratched the back of your neck, nervously, not sure where this was going.

“All right, Colonel, I’ll bite. What is it that you want?” you questioned.

Carrillo adjusted his position on the wall, turning so that he was facing you squarely. He looked you straight in the eyes before taking a deep breath, as if he was working up the courage to say something.

“You.”

You felt the air leave your lungs, Carrillo’s face was a puzzle laid before you but before you could say something else, you heard a deep, timbered voice calling your name.

You reluctantly turned around and saw Peña walking up to the both of you, you felt Carrillo shift beside you and let out a sigh, as if he knew something like that would happen.

“I was looking for you,” Javier mumbled, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear but you.

“So, you found me,” your voice was shaky after the Colonel’s admission, and you tried to control it “What?”

“Can we–uh–talk?” he said, and you looked back at Carrillo.

“Can it wait?” you pleaded.

“No,” Javier declared.

“I think I know what this is about,” Carrillo announced, and you frowned at him, asking with your eyes for him to elaborate. But he just stayed quiet, looking between you and Peña.

“What do you mean?” Javier huffed, “This is a private conversation that I need to have with her.”

“I think we all need to have this conversation,” Carrillo mumbled, looking at the ground for half a second before returning his gaze to you and Javier.

“What are you two on?” you asked, frantically, “I am so confused.”

Javier glanced at the Colonel, at the way he was all but shifting around like a nervous kid. He realized Carrillo moved like he was hiding something, like he had a secret he so wanted to confess.

“Do you know something?” Javier questioned him, furrowing his brow. The Colonel turned to study him and there was a small moment in which they said nothing, and their eyes just locked.

And there, Javier saw him, as he was. Colonel Horacio Carrillo was an honorable man, everyone knew that, but as he was honorable he was dark, and Javier had a small suspicion of what he knew and was badly hiding.

Javier felt himself smirk at the man and Carrillo smirked back, and Javi knew it. Because he never misses things like that. For him is like having a sixth sense, somehow enhanced by his career and his experience. He just knows. Javier had never been indifferent to men. After all, being honest with himself, he had a little crush on Steve before he saw the wedding band. And Carrillo was… just his type. He never thought he would have the chance to even get closer to the Colonel like that. In the end, the time was not right and he was quite sure Carrillo wasn’t like that.

Clearly, he had been mistaken.

“Okay you two, I’ve had enough,” you grumbled, “What is going on? I’m sick of these games.”

“This is not a game,” Carrillo said, finally looking at you, you felt your frown get deeper.

“Then what is it?” you demanded.

Javier shrugged and took one last look at Carrillo, as if to confirm his consent, and replied.

“An arrangement,” he deadpanned, “With both of us.”

“If you want it,” Carrillo added, quickly.

You shot up from the wall you were sitting on and turned to glare at both of them. Javier put his hands on his waist and leaned on a leg, and Carrillo stood up as well, clasped hands in front of him, just waiting for you to say something. Anything.

Javier glanced nervously at Carrillo from the corner of his eye, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. I hope this is gonna go how you were planning, Carrillo, he thought, Because if it doesn’t and she refuses to speak to me again after this...I swear to god–

“Where did you get this idea?” you blabbered, feeling the sting of nervousness and insecurity settling into your stomach. Along with something else in your lower belly you refused to acknowledge at all.

Javier sighed, and shook his head.

“Steve Murphy has a big mouth,” he murmured.

“Dios mío,” you exclaimed, “He told you both?”

“Well, he told me,” Javier said, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t know about our Colonel over here.”

Now it was Carrillo’s turn to look sheepish.

“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” Carrillo admitted, “I overheard the two of you talking the other day.”

“You eavesdropped on me?” you gasped, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Is nothing I say private?”

Carrillo at least had the grace to look ashamed.

“It was an accident,” he tried to assure you, “But–I don’t regret listening in. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you.”

You scrubbed your face with your hands, trying to figure out what you were going to do. It wasn’t that you were–unhappy–more so embarrassed. You’d been carrying this secret for a long time now, and to have it so out in the open made you feel more exposed than ever. And you hated the feeling.

“I’m gonna need a minute,” you said, “Can we talk about this later? I need some space.”

Without waiting for a response, you briskly walked away from the police base and in the direction of the city. You weren’t sure where you were going or when you were going to be back. All that you knew was that your privacy had been massively violated, and you needed some space to collect yourself. Alone. And perhaps when you had calmed down, you could think about Carrillo and Peña’s proposal, like a functioning adult. But right now, you were too embarrassed (and aroused, let’s be real), to think straight.

Javier turned aside to look at Carrillo when your figure had disappeared into the city.

“So,” Javier broke the not-so-awkward silence, “Are you okay with this?”

Carrillo huffed at the question and glanced at the agent, noticing in him things he hadn't noticed before.

“Are you?”

Javier felt his stomach drop at the Colonel’s question… interesting.

“I’m all in,” he replied, smirking at Carrillo.

“Yo también.”

**Scene Break 3**

It was later in the afternoon by the time you had calmed down enough to return to work. You couldn’t believe what had happened today. You absolutely wanted to smack Steve. What you had told him was in confidence, and he had broken that trust. But you couldn’t deny that you were happy with the result. The idea of having even just one of those two men was enough to get you going, but both?

Men like them?

The pool of arousal was already forming in between your legs.

You could not deny how much you had wanted this, and how much you had been dreaming about it. And for a very long time. For god’s sake, you had lost sleep over this shit. It made you feel dirty, filthy, unprofessional. But you just couldn’t help it. You’d done a decent enough job of keeping your feelings in check, but now the cat was out of the bag.

And not only did these two men know how you felt. Apparently, they felt the same way. And for some godforsaken reason, they wanted you.

Were you really going to say no to an opportunity like that? Were you truly that stupid? No matter how much you were angry with Steve.

Connie would lose her shit when you'd call her to tell her about her husband’s work.

You walked into the bullpen and saw the office door opened, the first thing you saw was Javier’s face buried inside a file, his posture rigid and his hands grasping at the folder as if it were a lifeline.

He looked up and his eyes went wide when he saw you walk in.

But then you saw Murphy, sitting like nothing had happened and you saw red. You rushed at him and without a word your hand flew and you smacked him on the back of the head.

“What the fuck?” he yelled, and you heard Javier laughing behind you.

“You asshole,” you hissed, “Exactly what made you think it was a good idea to tell him? I trusted you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Excuse me,” Steve groaned, rubbing the back of his head, “I did you a fucking favor. I got tired of hanging around with you two idiots, just looking at each other and not saying shit.”

“You should not have done that,” you growled, fixing him with what you hoped was your most intimidating glare.

“Perhaps not,” Steve shrugged, “But I don’t regret it.”

“Can I–say something?” Javier asked behind you.

“No. Shut up.” you hissed without looking back at him.

“You do something like this again, and I’ll kill you,” you threatened Steve before storming out of the base, and into the parking lot. You sat in the driver’s seat of your car and banged your head against the steering wheel. You had had every intention of finding Peña and Carrillo and taking them up on their offer, but now all feelings of boldness had been once again replaced by shame and embarrassment. No doubt you were the talk of the police base, what with your massive crush on two of your colleagues.

Although you knew it was irrational, you couldn’t help but feel as though Carrillo and Peña were making fun of you. You knew it was stupid. Both of them were grown-ass men. They wouldn’t be so immature. If they didn’t like you at all, they would have just left you alone. But you just couldn’t help the raging insecurity you were feeling. Perhaps if you had actually told both of them, directly, how you felt, rather than let Steve Murphy do the hard work, then maybe you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

But that was all water under the bridge now, you supposed.

Later that night, you were heating up a pitiful TV-dinner in your apartment, not feeling up to eating, but you needed something, when your phone rang. You froze with the fork halfway to your mouth. There were only a handful of people who had your landline number, and even then, only a few of those people would have the guts to actually call it. This wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

Sighing, you trudged over to the phone and lifted the receiver to your ear.

“¿Sí?” you asked, quietly, and you heard the low voice of Colonel Carrillo on the other end.

“It’s me,” he said softly, “You left work rather abruptly. I called to see if you were fine.”

“As fine as I can be, given the circumstances,” you grumbled.

“I’m sorry that things transpired the way they did, truly,” Carrillo mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic, “But I meant it when I said I don’t regret finding out.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” you snarked, “You’re not the one whose colleague breached her trust.”

There was a pause before Carrillo spoke again.

“Do you regret it?”

Now it was your turn to pause, contemplating your words and how you would respond. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, you wanted to make it clear that you weren’t pleased with the means---even if the end was fantastic.

“I regret how this started,” you replied, slowly, not trusting yourself to say anything further.

Carrillo hummed over the line, contemplating your words.

“I can’t blame you for that,” he said, “But forget about Steve for a moment, please. Have you thought about it?”

You inhaled and held your breath for ten counts, trying to calm down your racing heart. You couldn’t deny that just the mere thought of being in the same room with these two men, especially in a non-platonic setting, was difficult for you.

“I think you know the answer to that, Colonel. You aren’t stupid,” you quipped, “Have you discussed this with Peña? I must admit, I am surprised at you both. This doesn’t seem like something either of you would be interested in.”

“We’ve discussed this, absolutely,” Carrillo said, recalling the deeper conversation he had with Peña earlier that day after you had slapped Steve, “I think we’ve both surprised ourselves, if I’m being honest. But if the attraction is there, it’s there. But I want you to know, there is no pressure. This only goes as far as you want it to go.”

You frowned at that.

“What do you mean?” you pressed.

“Querida,” he sighed, “What happens between the three of us–well–Peña and I know where we stand–it’s up to you now. If you don’t want this, then just say the word. We’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”

You took a shuddering breath and tried to respond as best as you can.

“I–”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Carrillo interrupted gently, “Think about it. Make sure it’s what you want. Then you can let us know.”

“I–ok,” you stuttered, for lack of a better response.

“I should leave you to your evening. But think about it, and let me know what you decide ,” Carrillo said, “Have a good night, querida.”

“Sure, good night, Colonel,” you mumbled, hearing the click on the other end, indicating that Carrillo had hung up.

You passed the rest of the evening in relative silence, going about your mundane business with an extra air of heaviness. Slowly you could feel the embarrassment from the day give way to desire. As you lay by yourself in your bed, clutching at your pillow, you couldn’t help the acute sense of loneliness that you felt. After all, you hadn’t really had anyone before you came to Colombia, and your job here certainly killed whatever chance of having a relationship you might have had. It was why you had so easily fallen for both of your colleagues.

You were lonely. And they were lonely too. But it wasn’t just out of loneliness. You’d seen what Peña was like when he just wanted to have a warm body next to him. Just as it had taken courage for you to confess how you felt to Steve, it must have taken just as much strength for Carrillo and Peña to admit the same to you. This wasn’t going to be a one time thing–born out of isolation and tragedy–it would be something much more meaningful than that. You could feel it.

You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was just past midnight. Although you knew that Carrillo usually stayed up late, you didn’t want to bother him, so you dialed the number of the only other person who you knew would be up this late.

“Hello?” Javier Peña gruffed on the other end, clearly annoyed at having been woken up.

“Javier, it’s me,” you said, by way of greeting. You heard some rustling of bedsheets, no doubt Javier was fully awake now.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern coloring his tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “I just–I’ve thought about your offer. Yours and Carrillo’s.”

You heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone.

“And what do you say, cariño?” he questioned, hope ringing in his voice.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Yes. I’m saying yes.”

**Scene Break 4**

You sat inside Javier’s car, silently, as he drove the two of you through the streets of Medellín towards Carrillo’s address. It was a Friday–exactly a week from when Carrillo had overheard you talking to Steve, and you were completely floored at how your life had changed that fast. You didn’t regret anything though, not one bit.

You were nervous though. Having one of these men was enough to make you swoon, but both? You weren’t sure what was going to happen. All you knew is that it would be a fantastic night. You just hoped that you could keep up.

A hand on your knee brought you back to the present, and you glanced over to see that Javier was eyeing you out of the corner of his eye as he drove.

“Relax, cariño,” he ordered, “It’s just us.”

You laughed.

“I know, that’s what I’m worried about,” you said, jokingly. But Javier wasn’t having it.

“Why would that make you nervous?” he asked, turning to face you when you had stopped for a red light.

“You two are my friends and colleagues,” you stated, “I don’t–want to disappoint you. Especially since we will have to go back to work after the weekend.”

Javier shook his head and pressed down harder on the accelerator, hoping that if he got you to Carrillo’s place faster, you’d stop your fatalistic thoughts.

“None of that,” he grumbled, shutting down your line of thinking as quickly as he could, “What happens between us tonight stays between us. That’s it. No pressure or expectations. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”

You nodded, not quite trusting yourself to speak. And thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything because you and Javier finally pulled up in front of Carrillo’s house. It was a much larger property than you had expected, with a beautifully-kept lawn and a mango tree just at the front of the house. It was a stunning place to live, and the thought that Carrillo had been staying there alone, with nobody to share it with, for the past several months just left you heartbroken.

Well. That was likely about to change tonight.

“You’re still sure, cariño?” Javier asked, taking your hand in his and staring at your knuckles, “If you’ve changed your mind, I can drive you back now. No questions asked.”

You shook your head.

“I’m completely sure, Javi. Don’t worry,” you assured him, and Javier nodded.

“Bueno,” he mumbled, “Let’s go.” And with that, the two of you walked up the path to Carrillo’s front door and rang the bell. Carrillo answered almost immediately, face relaxing at the sight of you.

“I hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding the place,” he greeted, stepping back to allow the two of you to enter his house.

“I have some wine if you would like,” Carrillo suggested, leading you and Javier into the kitchen after the two of you had kicked off your shoes.

Carrillo walked straight to the fridge and took out what appeared to be a pretty expensive brand of wine, but neither you nor Javier said anything in regards to it. Instead, you both sat down and exchanged a series of fugitive glances at each other.

You thought you needed the wine, the bitter, strong taste of alcohol to run through your veins in order to be able to process the moment in its entirety. But suddenly, as you glared at both Javier and Carrillo, there was no need for anything else. No liquid distraction to be drunk beforehand, no ridiculous and meaningless pleasantries or comfort words. You knew those men. You trusted them with your life every day when you went out there on the streets, and you trusted them just as much now. Their mere presence was sufficient to relax you and ease the tension, although you thought they would both agree that the tension was thicker than you could’ve imagined.

“I trust you both, and I care about you both, so damn much.”

It came out of the blue; you weren’t even sure you thought about it in your mind, and yet you said it nonetheless, standing up. Both of them seemed a little surprised by your impromptu confession, but patiently waited for your continuation, if there was any to begin with.

“What I mean is… why make this harder on ourselves? Why bother with small talk and awkward conversations when we can just… do it, enjoy the night?”

Javier was the first one who smirked. And of course he would, he was probably used to a lot of those moments, or similar ones, and had almost no issue baring it all, you thought. You swore, for a brief, almost too rushed moment, that you saw Carrillo hesitate with saying something and averting his eyes from both you and Javier, but you brushed it off. Instead, he looked tall and mighty at you, as his official position required, and smiled gallantly at you.

“You are the one in charge tonight,” he told you.

Simple, yet effective.

From the moment you heard that sentence, it did something to your ego. It gave you an unexpected boost of confidence, it sparked a desire, a flame so bright and hot you wouldn’t have believed it to be true in any other situation.

You took a few steps closer to Carrillo, all the while having Javier watch the scene unfold from the kitchen entrance. He stood up when you did, out of some long-forgotten courtesy that he didn’t used to care about anymore, and he just knew where it was all headed. He recognized the look in your eyes, the longing on your face. He knew what it meant, how much it must’ve consumed you, and he felt oddly enticed and captivated by it.

Just as swiftly as the night began, Carrillo’s hands rested on your waist while he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he only brought you closer to him; his lips tasted surprisingly sweet, with just a faint tint of nicotine. Your chest was pressed against his, warm clothed skin found yours and you shivered against him. His hands gripped your waist as if saying farewell to them and he slid them up your body. You could feel Peña’s eyes fixed in your bodies, staring at the scene, and when the Colonel broke the kiss to nibble at your neck, you opened your eyes to see him next to you; half-lidded brown deep eyes, an opened bottle of wine in one hand and his lower lip in the other. Your skin was burning, and you had barely been touched.

You smiled at him when Carrillo took your jacket off, Peña smirked and took a sip of wine directly from the bottle, careless about any pleasantries.

Carrillo’s wet tongue latched softly at your pulse point and ripped a low moan out of you, you closed your eyes again when his hands gripped your ass over the fabric of your jeans.

“Colonel, please,” you muttered, sighing as you felt his large hands had fun with your flesh and grip it after hearing the way you called him.

“Words, querida” he just replied, putting some distance between your wet skin and his lips.

“More,” you bit your lip, Carrillo smirked at you and you noticed the way his eyes darkened with desire in front of you. He turned to look at Javier, who was still standing at the kitchen entrance, palming his erection over his jeans.

“Bring that,” Carrillo said, pointing at the bottle, then slid his hand from your ass to the small of your back and guided you towards the staircase.

Between your hazed eyes and the cloud of lust that had begun to invade your mind you looked around Carrillo’s space and wondered how a man like him could live in a place that big. You smiled to yourself when he put his hand on the small of your back and soon enough Peña caught up to you, you felt his ever so imposing presence behind you.

Carrillo opened the door to the bedroom and pushed you softly inside.

You didn’t even have time to take your surroundings in when you felt a pair of warm hands find your hips and a set of lips grazing at your earlobe. Your eyes closed by themselves and the sweet, strong smell of Javier’s cologne invaded your nostrils as he pulled your back flush against his chest.

“Sh–shit,” you let out, half a whisper, half a moan, when you felt Carrillo’s hands roam around your waist.

You were losing yourself between the touch of the two of them, you shivered when Carrillo cupped your breast as Javier nibbled at the skin of your neck, from behind, you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to do whatever–the–fuck he pleased with your neck.

“Mírate, chiquita,” Carrillo whispered, you felt his breath on your lips and when you re-opened your eyes you saw him inches away from your face “you’re already wrecked.”

You felt Javier chuckling against your flushed skin, and you bit your lower lip, bringing a hand to the Colonel’s nape to pull him closer and kiss him again.

One of Javier’s hands found itself under your shirt, his mouth was moving and his other hand pulled softly at your shirt over your shoulder to find more skin to lick and kiss. Carrillo found the hem of your shirt and broke the kiss to look at you, as if asking for permission and reassurance that you wanted what he wanted. Javier watched the silent exchange and smirked against the skin of your shoulder, he gave it a last brush of his mustache and a last kiss before you nodded to the Colonel and he helped you out of the garment.

Carrillo smiled to himself when he saw what you’ve been hiding under it, a black, only-lace bra that showed the shade of your nipples, you bit your lip again when you took in his disheveled figure, his notorious erection under his military green pants that made the pool between your legs grow.

“How are you this fucking beautiful?” Javier muttered behind you, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses behind your ear to your nape.

Your breath hitched when Carrillo kneeled in front of you and you felt your chest heaving with desire when his large fingers dextrely unbuttoned your jeans and his thumbs hooked on the hem. He looked at you again and you nodded for a second time. Javier looked over your shoulder at the Colonel slowly sliding your jeans off your hips then your legs and he left his hands roam around the now naked skin of your torso. Your hands landed on the back of his head, and he took the hint, attacking the skin of your neck once again.

Carrillo threw your jeans away once he helped you out of them and you moaned loudly when his lips grazed against your knee. One of your hands dropped to grab Carrillo’s head as his trail of kisses moved up, up, up until he reached the soft skin where your thigh and your hip joined. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you were sure he could feel it at that point and you didn’t care, for once you let yourself only feel and let all thought out of your mind while you felt two mouths, two men, take care of you.

There was no hesitation from Javier’s side as his fingers gently grazed up your spine, expertly unclasping your bra, taking in the image of the straps loosening on your smooth skin. He was damn near panting at the mere sight, but he had to remind himself that that was only the tip of the iceberg. The moans you were letting escape your mouth as Carrillo pressed gentle kisses on your inner thighs aided him in no way. He felt himself get harder and harder and fought off raging instincts to turn that moment into another one of his one-night stands.

Javier made sure he tasted your skin while he took the straps from both sides between his fingers and slid them off your shoulders, he felt you shivering under his hands and over Horacio’s mouth and you could feel the smirk on your skin, once the bra came off, Javier took your chin and moved your head to face him, he pressed his mouth on yours, his tongue hungry for your scent, invading your cavities and feeling your warmth rush through his body with the speed of light. Everything about your scent was intoxicating and consuming, and ever so addicting that he could barely find it in himself to stop.

But then his calloused hands found your breasts and oh–oh, shit.

That first squeeze, tantalizingly slow and powerful, took you out completely. You gasped, and you weren’t sure if it was Horacio’s warm breath in between your legs or Javier fondling your breasts, but you embraced the overwhelming effect both had on you. Javier squeezed again, and moved around to locate the sweet torture of his mouth onto your nipples, taking one in his mouth whilst his thumb moved over the other one, twisting it in between his fingers as he nibbled at your skin. His tongue left a glistening trail as he peppered kisses in between your breasts, moving up your sternum, collarbones and neck and focusing on one particular spot that seemed to drive you wild. So much so that you reached behind your back to grab a handful of his hair, pull him in closer however you could.

“Lay her down, Peña,�� Carrillo cooed, and the man followed suit.

You saw the Colonel untuck his shirt and take it off while Javier kneeled on the bed and helped you lay down on it, the softness of the sheets embraced you and the coldness made you whimper softly.

It was a premiere for him to witness Javier Peña, of all people, being so submissive and attentive, but he had other matters to focus on at the moment. His mouth left your already glistening and plump lips to grab the bottle of wine, your eyes followed him as you felt Carrillo’s hands spread your legs open and kiss the inside of your legs again, Javier came back to the bed and kneeled next to you, his hand gripping the bottle and the other cupping your face, he smiled softly at you and took a sip from the bottle; you moaned when Carrillo’s hands worked to get you out of your lace panties and Javier leaned down to you, the hand that cupped your face moved to your chin and he opened your mouth with his thumb, letting the wine pour from his mouth to yours, the wine was warm and it tasted sweet, when you closed your mouth and swallowed, Javier’s thumb grazed your lips and you heard a hard pant next to you, you turned to see Carrillo’s lusted face, you gave him a soft smile and he all but threw himself to you, kissing your mound, you moaned again and Javier leaned back, bringing the chilled bottle closer to your body, letting the tip of it graze against your warm skin, between the cold sensation and Carrillo’s lips tasting you, you were about to scream, Javier looked at you, smirked and pour some of the wine all over your breasts and abdomen, immediately reaching down on your again to lick the liquid off. A bit of the wine had traveled down your abdomen to your lower belly and found its way into Carrillos mouth, the feeling of the cold wine and their tongues made you growl. You had two pairs of equally sinful and skilled lips teasing and licking deliciously well over your exposed skin, and you had half of mind to grab either one of them and get to business. You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so aroused, but it was all a masterful torture and all for a good time. If anyone else was allowed to have their downtime, why shouldn’t you?

It was somewhat futile to even attempt to please either one of the men in return; their own pleasure seemed to be revolving around yours and they were both doing such an incredible job out of it that you had a hard time trying to keep track of where did the waves of pleasure come from anymore. It was all one big tsunami of feelings, from overstimulation to lust and appreciation and love in some form.

Carrillo continued his ministrations while Javier licked the remains of the wine from your body, his tongue traveled to your sternum and he took a nipple on his mouth ever so briefly, then he stood up and quickly undressed, not bothering to be cool about it, he just threw his clothes to the floor while he looked at Horacio have the time of his life between your legs, you let out soft moans and whispers and while Javier took off his jeans he saw your hand grip Carrillo’s hair as your hips hatched against the Colonel’s face. You felt his tongue flicking your clit and he pushed a thick finger inside you, curling it around, building you up and throwing you off the cliff with the same force he had put you there. You came on his mouth with his name on yours.

As you laid on the bed, legs spread for Carrillo as he helped you ride off your orgasm, Javier kneeled back on the bed next to your face, his hand snaked its way around your neck, gently grabbing both sides and helping you take his erection in your mouth, which you were more than happy to do. You could tell he was somewhat tensed: he was doing his absolute best to control his motions and to keep it at a normal rhythm, but the more you involuntarily groaned as Carrillo began to glide his tongue across your slit once again, building up your second climax, the more Javier was slowly losing bits and pieces of himself. Within seconds, you could just tell you weren’t gonna last long, but neither would Javier as he picked up the face and jerked his hips forward more and more, thus obliging you to take more of him in. You couldn’t explain it, nor find any logic behind the action itself, but you swore you felt his release in Javier’s impatient thrusts and, sure enough, mere seconds later, he finally came, grunting as ropes of his seed dripped down your jaw.

Your moans returned when Carrillo added two fingers to his mouthy torture over your clit, and you felt like you could explode. Not long after that all-too familiar gut feeling, that almost persistent desire to burn, you came for a second time, eager to jerk your hips forward and meet as much as you could of Carrillo’s tongue, but this time, the man’s grip over your thighs was impossible to break. He held you in place ever so expertly and ate you out like you were his favorite five course meal, soaking up every ounce of juice that you provided him with.

You temporarily lost feeling in your arms as you tried to raise them to make at least Javier pay attention, but words also failed to leave your abused mouth.

“Que buena chica,” Carrillo said from somewhere down below. (What a good girl.)

Your brain didn’t register what he said properly. All you could feel was a fire so intense, so vivid, you nearly saw stars. And something told you that was only the beginning.

And you were proven right.

In the momentary lack of physical touch, you thought about the moment itself, having two of the strongest, most desirable men eager to please you–simultaneously, might you add–and the more you thought about it, the more it threw you off completely. Why? You weren’t really sure. Perhaps it was the idea in the back of your mind that you wouldn’t have thought yourself capable of that. Or them, really. The activity hadn’t been exactly on your to-do list over the past few years and yet now, you couldn’t have thought of a better way to figure out your feelings for them, and to spare time.

The freshly acquired ecstasy was not only enthralling, but efficient as well.

After your second orgasm at Horacio’s ministrations you saw him between your lusted, narrowed eyes, undress completely, Javier was next to you, trailing his fingers up and down your wet torso–wet with wine and his saliva, what a fucking thought– while the both of you saw Carrillo take the remains of his clothes off and took in his lean figure, Javier smirked when he saw him whole and thought to himself the things he would do to the man if he had the time.

Javier wrapped his arms around your waist and helped you roll over to the side to face him, licking his bottom lip in the process and made sure you watched as he did so. He had been eyeing you up and down the entire day, whether clothed or not, and every glance he threw you, ever so dark and desirable, filled with subtext and desire, made you weaker and weaker, just like Carrillo’s touches were.

You reached his face and took his lips in yours, his tongue slid inside your mouth and as he explored the insides and his hand grabbed fistfuls of your ass, you felt the bed shifting behind you, and another hand snaked from behind and found your breast, you were being pressed against and between two bodies and the wam of them was driving you insane, when Carrillo’s fingers played with your nipple you bucked your hips forward and you felt Javier’s erection graze at your lower belly. Javier moved his hand from your ass to your thigh and then he let it slide to your pussy, you bucked your hips backwards and you felt Carrillo’s erection graze at your ass.

“How are you still this wet, bonita?” Javier asked, while his fingers found themselves between your lips.

“Don’t you know the answer by now, Javi?” you muttered, feeling the way Carrillo’s mouth found your shoulders.

You glanced at him and Carrillo the same way Javier looked at you and you understood in an instant why he always preferred to be that way. It was enticing, addicting and sinful, just the way he was.

And by the looks of it, Colonel Horacio Carrillo was no saint either.

“How do you want this to go, chiquita?” Horacio asked behind you as you moved your leg up to allow Javier’s fingers to find a way inside you.

You sighed. Why was he asking you that question when you weren’t even sure something like this would happen? For a brief, brief second you wanted to hide, just grab your clothes and hide. But you found yourself sandwiched between the men that you most desired and you just couldn’t waste this opportunity for the life of you.

So you rummaged around your deepest, filthiest fantasies you’ve had when everything had just been a sinful dream, a product of your lascive thoughts giving into what you catalogued as your darkest secrets and desires and you found one you couldn’t stop think about after it had given you a stars–behind–the–eyes orgasm.

“I want both,” you muttered, feeling the way both men groaned at your sides, “both inside me, please.”

“You sure?” Javier asked, pulling out his fingers from your cunt and looking at the way they glistened, you nodded.

“Words, chiquita,” Horacio said and you turned to see him, he leaned down and stole a short, deep kiss.

“I’m a hundred percent sure,” you murmured against the Colonel’s lips.

“Let’s get you ready, then,” Javier whispered on your neck and you sighed when his fingers slid back into your slit, you closed your eyes when Horacio played your nipples around his fingers and then his hand roamed down your body, finding their way to your pussy.

“Déjame entrar,” Horacio said under his breath, Javier stopped moving his fingers inside you and you squeezed your eyes tighter when Carrillo slid two more fingers inside your cunt.

“Fu–fuck, fuck,” you gasped, Javier let open mouthed kisses around your face and the skin of your neck within reach while your walls tightened around their thick fingers.

“You okay?” Javier asked and you nodded a few times before your body relaxed and got used to the intrusion.

“Mo–move,” you pleaded, feeling Horacio’s mouth nibbling at your shoulder and your neck.

Javier and Horacio moved their fingers at the same time inside you, looking at each other as if marking a dancing pace. You didn’t know what to do with yourself as they moved in and out and curled their fingers in all directions inside you, making you moan and whimper and open up more for them as they somehow found an identical pace to torture you with.

“Eso, eso nena, lo estás haciendo muy bien,” Carrillo praised behind you, feeling the way your walls were giving into the attention and dilating around their fingers (That’s it baby, you’re doing great)

“Más,” you pleaded, rolling your hips against their hands “Más, más,”

They grinned at each other, Javier’s eyes landed on your face and took in the way your features quirked in pure pleasure. Their fingers moving at the same time, pacing in and out faster. Javier’s mouth landed on your shoulder and Carrillo only took in the lewd noise his and Javier’s fingers were making as they pulled in and out at a murdering pace.

“Oh, sh–shit,” you bit your lip and tried to hide your face inside the crook of Javier’s neck but Horacio pulled you away with his other hand.

“We wanna hear you, querida.” he whispered behind your ear, you shivered again at the feeling of his warm breath and then it became too much, their fingers were covered in your arousal as you spread your legs impossibly wider as your throat began growling and your hands landed on both of them, digging your nails on their flesh. Javier hissed against your shoulder and Carrillo bit the skin of your mouth, both of them throwing you together from the cliff and your body spasmed between them.

“Oh my god, oh shit, fuck!” you screamed between their bodies and they slowed their pace to help you ride down your climax “please, please, fuck me, please,” you let out, almost desperately, eager to feel the same with them inside you. They slid their fingers out of you and you shivered again.

Your body was already a mess, after three powerful orgasms you were panting for air, the only thing you wanted was them inside you, you wanted to feel every ridge and every vein of them, you wanted; you needed to cum around them both.

“What is taking you so long?” you opened your eyes, quite frustrated at the lack of attention to your bodies, but the sight that you took in was otherworldly.

Carrillo had his fingers, his covered–in–your–arousal fingers inside Javier’s mouth.

“Fuck,” you let out, dropping your head on the mattress, looking at the way Javier grabbed Horacio’s wrist to keep his hand on his mouth and lick them clean of you while Horacio’s deep gaze took Javier in with a smirk adorning his face.

Horacio pulled his fingers out with a soft pop and they both looked at you, panting and brushing a nipple with your fingers.

“Next time you’ll have to put on a show for me,” you teased.

“You’re ready?” Javier asked, leaning down to kiss your temple, you looked at Carrillo and smiled at him as he licked his fingers.

“Very,” you replied, softly, your voice was already hoarse because of the moaning and screaming they had pulled out of you, they got comfortable on each of your side and you took a deep breath when Horacio lifted your leg and hooked it on his hip.

Javier was the first one to tease your entrance with the dripping head of his cock, when you felt it sliding up and down your slit you gasped and as he pushed himself inside you you grabbed his arm and licked any part of his skin available for you.

“Oh my god,” you cried out softly.

Javier was having a hard time staying still when your walls were warm and wet around him, his hands roamed around your body as Carrillo lined himself with you and him as well and then he pushed.

“Holy fucking shit,” you had close your eyes at the feeling of Horacio making his way inside of you, you breathed and panted and tried so hard to relaxe but they were thicker than their fingers and your pussy was clenching already around them. Javier took your hand and you squeezed his as both of them bottomed up inside you.

Horacio put his hands over the entanglement of yours and Javi’s and the three of you gasped and panted until your body stopped squirming between them and your walls stopped closing themselves at the feeling of two thick cocks making their way inside.

Javier had to close his eyes as well when he felt how your cunt clenched him tight closer to Horacio and he felt himself throb inside you, when he opened his eyes he saw you, open mouthed gasps leaving your body as it got used to being that full, and then his eyes traveled to Horacio, that buried himself in the crook of your neck, he supposed he was feeling the same way as him, trapped in a oh–so–tight hole with him.

“Move, move, move,” you all but begged, the initial sting of being filled like that disappearing and being replaced with the darkest, deepest, hottest desire you had ever felt, “fu–fucking move already!”

Horacio smirked against the skin of your neck at your demand and moved slightly to look at Javier, who nodded once and then, murdering pleasure; Javier pulled out and as he was thrusting slowly back in, Horacio pulled out and moved in as Javier moved out and you gasped and the air in your lungs left you for the time being as your cunt was filled with the two men you wanted the most.

It was pleasure delivered in a delicious swing of two hips rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth into you, making you impossibly wetter, incredibly hornier, and way too lost in the haze to even care about anything else.

The way that they were fucking you was shameless, the noises were lewd and your moans invaded the room as soon as they picked up the pace and kept driving into you at the same pace but in different directions.

Four hands caressed your body, two sets of lips nibbled at your skin, two tongues tasted the salty sheet of sweat that had covered your body, two thick cocks used your body at their will, making you want to explode; it was an eager combination of feelings and sensations pulled out of the most sensual, lechery, degenerated dreams you could ever had.

“Harder, please, pleasepleaseplease,” you panted out, gripping any skin and limb your hands could find. Your hips started rolling and rolling and rolling with them as they thrusted and pounded inside you.

“Mierda,” Horacio gasped behind you, biting at your skin, making you whimper.

“You’re so fucking tight, so fu–fucking good, baby,” Javier cried out as your pussy clenched around them and you absentmindedly rolled your hips harder.

It was an entanglement of limbs and wet skin, mouths clashing against skin, hands gripping and grabbing available flesh, a swing of bodies and a symphony of licks, kisses, hums, gasps, pants, begs and praises.

“Shit, sh–shit,” you panted harder and clawed at Javier’s arm when you felt the well-familiar tug on your belly of an incoming orgasm, you hummed and moaned and you felt lips in your ear, licking and nibbling at your earlobe, “I’m so close, más,”

Javier gritted his teeth when you demanded more and angled his hips to pound inside harder, Horacio followed his lead, dropping his hand on Javier’s shoulder for leverage. Carrillo’s touch burned in Javier’s skin and he felt his body stiffen with the feeling of his second release.

“Por dios, querida, me estás matando.” Horacio cried out behind you, feeling as well his body falling from the cliff. (My god, you’re killing me)

Javier’s free hand slid through your wet, glistening skin and his finger circled your clit slowly, you screamed his name, your legs buckled and your entire body squirmed with the sea of sensations your body was feeling and flooding with.

“Cum inside me, please, please,” you panted again, feeling the way your legs started to shake as both of their thrust became erratic and Javier’s finger kept circling around your bundle of nerves you exploded around them, gushing out and soaking them as your orgasm made you scream both their names.

“Mierda, querida, mírate,” Horacio grunted before he gave into the lustfulness of it all and came inside you and around Javier.

Once Javi felt the warmness of Carrillo’s release and the way you soaked both of them and his hand, he locked his hips with yours and spilled himself inside as well, gasping out your name.

“Ohmyfuckinggod,” you let out as a sigh, feeling your legs tremble with the strength of your climax.

The three of you stayed like that, joined, for a while. As your bodies relaxed you finally opened your eyes and saw the way Horacio’s hand was resting on Javier’s shoulder, wrapping you as well between them. Both of them breathing heavily, eyes closed, recovering from whatever the hell you had done was called. You sighed and smiled to yourself. If it weren’t for the four orgasms you had and the way your cunt was throbbing after the abuse and dripping with their seed, you wouldn’t believe it was real at all.

“How was that, cariño?” Javier asked, grazing a hand up and down your arm.

“That was–magnificent,” you gushed, not sure how else to describe that positively euphoric experience, “I think–you two have worn me out.”

Horacio chuckled and moved your head to press a kiss to your forehead, and shifted to allow all three of you to lie somewhat comfortably under the covers. You whined when they pulled out of you, solely because at the loss of them, you felt empty.

“Rest now, querida, we’ll be here in the morning,” he whispered into your hair, and that was all the permission you needed.

“We should–” you brought a hand to your mouth to cover a massive yawn, “–do this again sometime.”

After that, it didn’t take long before you had succumbed to the tempting pull of sleep. Horacio sighed and glanced over your shoulder at Javier, who looked rather worn out himself. Tenderly, Horacio reached over and brushed aside a small strand of hair that had fallen in Javi’s face.

“So, same time next week, then?” Horacio asked, giving Javier a lazy smirk, which was returned in kind.

“Yeah,” Javier mumbled, turning over to drape his arm around your way and bury his face in your neck.

“Absolutely.”

let me know if you wanna be removed :)

pedrito's perma list: @northernpunk​ @pascalesque @sleep-tight1​ @cheekygeek05​ @bii-aan-ckaa​ @letaliabane​ @supernaturalgirl​ @metalarmsandmanbuns​ @asta-lily​ @alliterative-albatross​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @missswriter​ @juletheghoul​ @pedro-pastel​ @agirllovespancakes​ @charlispersonallyhell​ @hopeevenonthisside​ @sherala007​ @magpie-to-the-morning​

dick aneurysm: @starlightmornings​ @mouthymandalorianalso​ @purplepascal042​ @maharani-radha @pascalslittlebrat​ @mothandpidgeon​ @wyn-dixie​ @empress-palpat1ne​ @charnelhouse​

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd​

Priya’s permanent taglist: @captn-andor @cap-n-stuff-main @sarahjkl82-blog @banga-sama​ @revolution-starter​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @velia27 @cynic-spirit​ @leonieb​ @bootyliciousbilbo​ @panagiasikelia​ @mcrmarvelloki​ @stanfordscrush​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @salome-c​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @princess76179​

Priya’s Javi taglist: @brujademente​ @walt-breslin @rubeskar​

Priya’s Carrillo taglist: @melaniecraig80​ @tropes-and-tales​

[choicesarehard]

I keep my streams about Wolf Bride light-hearted. It’s been a hell of a year, and I think we all need a space where we can laugh together. But part of responsibly consuming problematic media is being aware of where it fails. And that’s why I think it’s important to talk about Morgan, and Wolf Bride’s troubling depiction of blindness. 

Morgan is one of the first Love Interests in Choices to have a canon disability. She is representation many players with disabilities, like myself, are eager for. But like any form of representation, writing a blind character requires research. A quick google search will lead you to numerous visually impaired voices who outline the tropes and stereotypes that harm their community. Wolf Bride has included nearly all of them. 

signal boosts are appreciated

Not All Blind People Wear Sunglasses

Morgan is shown wearing dark sunglasses from the moment she appears on screen. And there are certainly blind people who wear sunglasses — particularly those who (unlike Morgan) can still perceive some degree of light and dark, and experience painful light sensitivity. But no context is ever giving for Morgan’s use of sunglasses. In fact, they aren’t even addressed for four chapters. 

[ID: Two screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box over a forest background, and reads “You glance at Morgan, and are surprised to see the dark glasses still covering her eyes.” The second features a labeled image of her sunglasses, placed over a black background, with a selectable button that reads “What does Morgan look like without these?”] What follows is a scene Pixelberry could have used to provide insight into an assistive device the sighted community may not be entirely familiar with. They could have touched on degrees of visual impairment, or why some blind individuals need dark lenses while others don’t. They could even have explained that for some individuals with visual impairments, dark lenses make tasks like reading or navigating dimly lit spaces harder.  Instead, and far more troublingly, MC is given the option to ask Morgan not to wear them anymore. And depending on your choice, the book is coded to remove the sunglasses from her sprite in future scenes. This reduces an assistive device to a fashion choice, something our MC can wish away if they don’t find it attractive. And that isn’t okay. 

Unusual Eyes

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a forest background that reads “With a start, you realize her pale eyes aren’t looking at you, aren’t seeing you, aren’t seeing anything.” The second features Morgan’s sad sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “...I’ve been blind since birth.”] Morgan has a customizable sprite. But regardless of the ethnicity you select for her, she is depicted with pale blue eyes. And that troubles me. Because the stereotype that all blind individuals have cloudy, distorted, or unusual eyes is pervasive and harmful. 

Even when it isn’t tied to another harmful trope — the blind character as mystical seer or psychic — this stereotype create an expectation that blindness is something that always manifests in a visible way. And for millions of blind individuals, that isn’t the case. 

And while cataracts, trauma to the eye, and corneal infections can all cause the clouded effect most of us recognize from media, none turn your brown eyes into blue.  Heightened Senses

Another common stereotype in media is the blind character who’s remaining senses have become heightened as a compensatory mechanism, often to a supernatural degree.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features Morgan’s surprised sprite in a forest setting and a text box that reads “I guess I sort of...feel things. Like the place on my cheek where the branch blocked the wind.” The second features Morgan’s neutral sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “I can smell the dew on the leaves, and the moss on the bark. Can’t you?] Individuals with visual impairment may learn to rely on their other senses to navigate the world around them. But they do not suddenly gain the ability to sense the location of a branch based on wind patterns, or to accurately throw a dart at a carnival game ballon based on its smell. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a carnival background that reads “Pop! Pop! Pop! Three darts fly through the air, striking their targets.” The second features the white MC with straight blonde hair. Her sprite is surprised, and beneath it is a text box that reads “So you did that by smell, too?]

This trope may seem harmless — after all, it gave us Daredevil, a beloved blind superhero — but it contributes to the unachievable expectations we often place on real-world individuals with visually impairments. And that isn’t fair. 

Of course, we all suspected Morgan’s abilities were due to something other than heightened senses. And that in and of itself is a problem. 

Magical / Supernatural Abilities

To the surprise of no one, Morgan exhibits these unusual abilities because she is a werewolf. But choosing to give a blind character magical abilities should only be done after asking yourself some challenging questions. As visually-impaired Tumblr user @mimzy-writing-online explains:

Your blind characters don’t need a magical ability that negates their blindness. [Ask yourself why it’s so important to you to give them one]. If it’s because they can’t do all the things you want them to do without it, then should you really have written them as blind in the first place? 

And that’s the thing. Morgan isn’t actually written as a blind character, not when it counts. Morgan shoots bullets with accuracy, runs through unfamiliar terrain, and navigates moving objects with ease. She doesn’t use common assistive devices like canes or screen readers. Her sunglasses are discarded at MC’s request. The scientific papers that fill her research facility are not digitized for accessibility or written in braille. 

Even her dreams, which should be reflections of how she perceives reality, look identical to Bastien's — which makes no sense for someone who has been canonically blind since birth. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapters Five and Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a scene from Morgan’s lucid dream. Set in a glamorous hotel, it includes visual details like twinkling lights, and patterned carpets. The color is tinted a grey-blue and the exposure on the image has been increased to an unnatural level. The second features a scene from Bastien’s lucid dream. Set in a forest, it shares the same tinted and over-exposed qualities as the first.]

Her blindness isn’t an integral part of her character. Instead, it’s a narrative device, paraded in front of the reader when it can further a central — and deeply disturbing — plot point. [content warning: discussion of discrimination and child abuse / abandonment ahead]  Morgan Was Left to Die Because She Was Blind 

And Jesus, what a plot point it is. In Chapter 11, we learn that Morgan was left to die in the woods because she was born “wrong, sickly, blind.” But the only canonical disability or illness she is ever shown to have is her blindness. 

[ID: Three side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first two feature the white MC with straight blonde hair’s shocked sprite in front of a forest background. The first text box reads “I don’t understand...” followed by two dialogue options “Why was Morgan abandoned?” and “Is that what you do to full moon babies? Kill them?” The second panel’s read box reads “Just because she was blind?” The third panel features  the old woman Noemi’s sad sprite, placed over a forest background. Her text box reads “If we know an infant will not survive, it is best to let it die quickly.”]

I...am frankly having a hard time thinking through the screenshot-induced fury to make a coherent argument here. To imply that blindness is an impairment so limiting that death is the only foreseeable outcome? That being born blind somehow makes a child “wrong”? The ignorance and prejudice shown in this scene is staggering. 

But equally troubling is the response of the main characters to this revelation. Yes, in fiction, bad people sometimes do bad things. But Noemi isn’t shown to be a bad person. Neither is Bastien, who knew what his pack had been guilty of in the past, and even seeks to justify it to a limited degree. 

Most shockingly, Morgan herself, who in the second screenshot below has just overheard that she was left to die as an infant because she is blind, isn’t angry or upset. She’s almost apologetic, still seeking a place within the pack. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first features Hispanic Bastien’s sad sprite in front of a forest background. The text box beneath him reads “It doesn’t happen often, Clara, but...” The second features white Morgan’s sad sprite in front of the same forest background. The text box beneath her reads “I didn’t mean any harm. Especially after...what I just overheard.”]

By introducing the idea that a child born blind cannot survive, let alone thrive, without superhuman abilities, and then failing to soundly and thoroughly refute that idea through the characters we identify with, Pixelberry is unintentionally perpetuating the same false beliefs that have led to real-world instances of infanticide for centuries. And that isn’t okay. 

I don’t know where Pixelberry will go with the story from here. Perhaps in today’s chapter some of these concerns have been addressed...but I doubt it. In the meantime, I’ve also written to their support staff to express my deep concern and disappointment in the treatment of Morgan’s character. And I’d encourage you to do the same. 

Will I continue to keep streaming Wolf Bride? For now, yes. My VIP subscription is already paid for, and frankly, I want to see Morgan’s arc through. I guess the small part of me that was excited for the representation is still hopeful the narrative can be corrected. 

But I’ll be adding a content warning at the start of each stream for ablism, and that’s something I never thought I’d have to do.  Screenshots courtesy of CrimsonFeatherGames on Youtube

[sankyeom]

the c in ceo stands for cute | k.yh

pairings: kim younghoon x reader genre: ceo au, secretary!reader x ceo!younghoon, strangers to lovers summary: in which your handsome boss is often mistaken as cold due to his good looks and forward personality, but is actually the sweetest introvert you’ve ever met word count: 7.2k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

“It’s been such a pleasure working for you, Mr Kim,” you told the CEO of the company you worked for, genuinely meaning every word.

Mr Kim beamed at you, eyes bright behind the large frames of his glasses. “The pleasure was all mine, Y/n,” he assured you. “You’re a marvellous help. My son is going to love you,” he was sure.

The heir of the Kim corporation, Kim Younghoon, was returning from getting his Masters degree from Harvard Business School just in time to take over after his father retired. He was a little young to be the CEO of such a large corporation, but Mr Kim had a lot of faith in his son, and spoke very highly of him.

“I’m sure we’ll get along just fine,” you smiled, even though you were lying through your teeth.

There had been enough rumours about Kim Younghoon going around for you to know what to expect. His schoolmates said that he was often cold to them, giving blunt answers instead of mingling with his peers, and having an air of superiority around him. You asked some of your older coworkers if they knew much about him, since you had only been Mr Kim’s secretary for a little over two years, and they feared him too much to have ever really approached him.

Of course you knew that it was unfair to judge a person by the rumours surrounding them, especially if you never even had the chance to meet this person, but there seemed to be no positive stories about Kim Younghoon at all. Sure, his face was plastered across billboards for being an excellent businessman and for having great instincts when it came to the stock market, but he never smiled in any pictures; not even the ones on his social media (which had millions of followers).

Mr Kim seemed to know you well, giving you an intentional smile. “He’s not what people expect him to be. You’ll see when he arrives,” he promised. You decided to take Mr Kim’s word for it and give the new CEO a proper chance, despite the fact that Mr Kim was very biased in this situation.

“I think it’s time for me to get home,” Mr Kim admitted, handing you his almost-full champagne flute.

The Seoul division of the corporation’s office had held a farewell party for Mr Kim, celebrating his many years of building up the company and all the people whose lives he impacted while he was CEO. “So soon?” you asked, helping him up from his chair. “You’ve only had one slice of cake.”

Mr Kim laughed. “I’ll take a good night’s sleep over a second slice of cake,” he assured you, taking your arm and letting you walk him to the elevator. “You know that I like you a lot, don’t you Y/n?” he asked you.

You couldn’t help but smile back at the man who was almost like a second father figure, and your most influential mentor. “Yes I do, Mr Kim. It’s been a pleasure.”

“I consider myself quite lucky,” he replied, saying his farewells to you before letting his chauffeur walk him to his car.

You waved as the elevator doors closed and sighed to yourself when Mr Kim was gone, looking around to see what was left of the office party.

You knew you were good at your job. Throughout high school and college, you found it difficult to figure out what you wanted to do with your life. All you knew was that you had good organisational and people skills, and you wanted to do something creative and exciting. At first, the idea of being someone’s secretary sounded dreadfully boring and time-consuming. But as you started to learn more about the profession, you liked the idea of being able to be apart of different projects as well as organising someone’s time.

“Hey, Y/n,” your coworker Kevin called over to you. He was someone you worked with a lot because he was a part of the design department, and no design ever went out without Mr Kim’s direct approval. “Where did Mr Kim go?” he asked.

You smiled, making your way over to him and the group of people he stood with. “Home,” you informed him. “I think he appreciated the party, but when he said he wanted to retire, he really meant it.”

Kevin laughed, raising his champagne flute in the air as a toast. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “Did he give you any details about the new boss?” he wondered, quirking an eyebrow in inquisitiveness.

“Not really,” you admitted. “He said that he thinks we’ll get along, and that he’s not what people expect him to be. But aside from that, he didn’t give me much.”

“Damn,” Kevin sighed. “I just want to know if he’s as scary as people make him out to be. I mean, attending a prestigious business school overseas and not making any friends? That seems kind of weird.”

“A little,” you agreed, accepting the champagne he offered you and sipping it. “I don’t know. I guess if you already have a decent set of friends at home, and your priority is to finish school as quickly as possible, then I can see why he might come across as unfriendly.”

Kevin hummed. “I suppose,” he agreed, downing his champagne. “Now c’mon. We need to dance and actually have fun at the party that you spent weeks planning,” he insisted, letting you finish your drink before dragging you over to where you had pushed chairs and tables away to make room for dancing. “Tomorrow, the new boss arrives. And if he’s half as bad as people say he is, you’re going to wish you had partied.”

You arrived at the office the next day an hour earlier than you usually did. You weren’t sure what time the new boss would be arriving at, so you just decided to be early. Fidgeting with your clothes, you smoothed them down as best as you could as you waited in front of the CEO’s office for Younghoon to arrive. You had already printed out a plan of things Mr Kim had left him to finish up for the next three months, but you didn’t have any more specific plans after that.

After half an hour of waiting around, hushed whispers rang around the office area. Taking this as a sign that Younghoon was on his way, you stood up tall with all of your papers, planner, and clipboard, and took a deep breath in to calm down. Not long after, Younghoon’s familiar face – which you recognised both from billboards, magazines and articles, as well as Mr Kim’s framed pictures in his office – appeared in front of you with two men trailing after him.

He was handsome in a chic way, with deep set eyes and high brow bones. His cupid’s bow was slightly pointed, and his lips in general were turned down into a sort of passive frown, as if he had a mild case of resting bitch face. All in all, he was intimidating. Tall, handsome, and rich. You dealt with men like this every day, but none of them looked at you as indifferently as Kim Younghoon was.

You put on your best smile. “Good morning Mr Kim,” you greeted. “My name is Y/n. I’m here to assist you with whatever you need. I’d like to go over your schedule for the next few months based on what your father already had planned, if now is a good time,” you told him, wanting to get that over and done with.

“Now is perfect,” Younghoon replied, allowing you to open the door for him before he let himself into his new office. You breathed out a quiet sigh of relief when he was inside, recovering quickly to smile at the two men he came with.

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Y/n. I’ll be Mr Kim’s secretary,” you introduced yourself again.

Both men returned your cheery expressions. “Nice to meet you, Y/n,” the one with the dark brown hair greeted. “My name is Sangyeon. I’m the head of Younghoon’s security, but I’m mostly just an old friend,” he admitted. “This is Juyeon,” the man with the black undercut smiled, which made his otherwise angular face seem soft and cute. “He’s Younghoon’s chauffeur but he’s another old friend.”

“We’ll see each other a lot so I hope we get along,” Juyeon chimed in.

“I’m sure we will,” you promised, already feeling comfortable around them. The two men exuded positive energy and a carefree attitude, which helped to calm your nerves just a little bit. Following them into Younghoon’s office, you motioned for them to sit in the two seats in front of Younghoon’s desk, where he was already sat in his office chair.

“We can talk about redecorating the office after we discuss your schedule, if you’d like,” you suggested to Younghoon, noticing the way his eyes were darting around the office. It was left the same way that Mr Kim had wanted it, only most of the belongings that he cherished had been moved into his personal office at home.

“Don’t bother,” Younghoon replied in a quiet voice, leaving you to smile awkwardly at his friends. “You said something about my father having plans for me?” he added.

“Right,” you nodded, taking out Younghoon’s agenda and placing it down in front of him. “Your father had already agreed to a few things before he retired,” you explained. “As the new CEO, you’re expected to carry out these events. I’ve colour coordinated everything that you have set, as well as given you the time and location of every event,” you pointed to the different coloured sticky tabs. “Since we’re going into the last quarter of the financial year, it’s not as busy as the rest of the year but there are more charity-related events than at the start of the year.”

Younghoon held your gaze, taking in your worried eyes and your shaking hands. “How kind of you,” he decided, sending you a half-smile before thumbing through the rest of his journal.

You thanked him quietly, feeling even more deflated now than when you were waiting for him. “Just so you know, I’m going to be arriving the same time everyday as I did today. You don’t need to arrive before me, we can arrive at the same time. And please don’t call me Mr Kim. Mr Kim is my father, you may call me Younghoon,” he said in his calm drawl, done looking through his schedule and glancing up at you. “Can I keep this?” Younghoon motioned to the planner.

“It’s yours,” you assured him.

“Then that’ll be all for now,” Younghoon gave you another half-smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be familiarising myself with my father’s previous system of organisation and then I’ll meet the main teams this afternoon after lunch. Send the word out that I expect an update on what they’re working on right now, but I don’t want any presentations. Just an informal chat.”

“Of course,” you nodded, placing the stack of papers you were holding on his desk. “These are from legal, they need you to sign off on some patents by Thursday. I figured I’d give you some time to read through them and I can collect them from you Thursday morning,” you informed him. “My schedule for the day is always on this,” you tapped his desktop screen. “We have access to each others’ electronic calendars. It has everything that I put in your planner so far in it already. You can add whatever else onto it so I’m up-to-date. You can see my calendar so you know where I am if you ever need something and I’m not around. I’ll call the team managers right away and schedule your meetings with them.”

“Thank you, Y/n,” Younghoon said.

“Can I get you anything to drink or eat?” you offered, extending your words to Sangyeon and Juyeon as well.

“We’re good,” they assured you, Younghoon nodding in agreement.

“If you need lunch reservations, just let me know,” you smiled, exiting the room and almost collapsing onto your chair. After a moment to catch your breath, you picked up your phone and began to dial the number for Kevin’s cubicle.

“What’s he like?” Kevin exclaimed instead of answering.

You rolled your eyes. “Mr Kim wants a meeting with all the main teams. I’m having the design team go first so. How does 1 o’clock sound?”

“Fine,” he agreed, so you opened your laptop and updated Younghoon’s digital calendar. “Seriously, though. What’s he like? Apparently he didn’t smile when he came into the building at all.”

“Sound accurate,” you mumbled quietly. “I don’t know, Kev. I’ve only met him once. He seems like he’s focused and willing to do the job, so there’s not much I can say.”

“Yeah, okay. But is he a jerk? Unsociable?”

“Well, he’s no fairy princess,” you allowed. “That’s all I’ll say. Like I said, I’ve only met him once. And he’s the CEO of a huge corporation. We’ll have to see.”

“I guess so,” Kevin sighed. “Oh my god. He wants a meeting with all the main teams? I don’t have enough time to make a presentation, what am I supposed to do?”

“I think he wants to be caught up on the current projects and put some faces to the names, is all. Don’t worry too much. You’ll do great,” you motivated your friend. “Now I have to make some other calls, so don’t freak out, okay? Bye.”

As you hung up, Juyeon stepped out of Younghoon’s office. Automatically, you stood up to give him a smile. “Do you need anything?” you offered, earning a grateful smile from him.

“No, no, I’m just on my way to do some errands for Younghoon,” Juyeon waved off your concern. “Thank you, though.” You nodded, sitting back down and going back to organising the team meetings. “You seem like you’re good at your job,” Juyeon complimented. “Very organised. Colour-coded, even,” he added.

“That’s me,” you laughed. “Was it too much?” you wondered. “I mostly did it to kill time waiting for him to come into the office.”

“You’re all good,” Juyeon assured you.

“What errands are you running?” you inquired. “If Younghoon needs anything, I can do it for him. It is my job, after all.”

“Just picking up some stuff for his office,” Juyeon said vaguely, giving you a sheepish smile. Recalling the way that Younghoon disregarded your offer to help him redecorate his office, you felt the nervous feeling in your stomach rise up again.

“He doesn’t like me very much, does he?” you said gloomily.

“He doesn’t know you,” Juyeon retorts. “And you’re great, really. If you were my secretary I’d be jumping for joy,” he promises. “You just… need to get to know him. He takes time to get comfortable with people.”

“Okay,” you smiled sadly. “Well, let me know if I can help with your errands. You can call the lobby and ask for me, they’ll forward your call.” Juyeon waved goodbye and you watched him walk out, slightly upset that Younghoon wanted his chauffeur to do your job, even if they were old friends.

“He’s scary,” Kevin told you when you came to check on him after his meeting with Younghoon. “The new Mr Kim is nothing like the old Mr Kim,” he added.

“What happened?” you asked, wondering what wound Kevin up so much. You knew that Kevin often overthought social interactions, as most socially awkward people do, but you had never seen him so jittery at work before.

“All he did was stare at us and take notes,” Kevin revealed. “He didn’t make any comments or expressions or anything. He just sat there, listened, then dismissed us like we’re school children.”

You winced. “That must have been tough,” you sympathised. “But I mean, it’s only the first meeting,” you tried to find a way to defend Younghoon, giving him the benefit of doubt.

“Sure, but first impressions are kind of important,” Kevin argued. “It’s not like I need to be his best friend the second we meet, but a little communication would have been nice.”

“I’m sorry, Kev,” you sighed. Just as you were about to offer to grab him some coffee, knowing how much he adored the bitter concoction, your phone rang. “Mr Kim,” you answered, seeing that it was forwarded from from your office.

“Younghoon,” he corrected.

You grimace. “Yes, Younghoon. I’m sorry, sir, force of habit,” you said, making Kevin cringe when he realised who you were talking to.

“Where are you?” Younghoon asked, his tone even.

“I’m taking my break,” you explained. “It’s on my schedule.”

“Yes, I see,” Younghoon hummed. “I’m looking at it right now. It doesn’t say where you are, though. I thought it was supposed to say that.”

You cursed silently. “You’re absolutely right, sir. I’m sorry. I can come back immediately,” you offered.

“Please do,” Younghoon said before hanging up the phone without saying goodbye.

“It is Mr Sunshine?” Kevin said sarcastically. “What’s up with you calling him by his first name?”

“He asked me to,” you shrug, putting your phone back in your pocket. “I gotta run. I’ll see you later?” Kevin waved and off you went back to your desk. “Mr- Younghoon,” you corrected yourself, finding Younghoon leaning against your desk waiting for you. “I’m sorry. What did you need me for?”

“You didn’t have lunch,” Younghoon said, tapping your laptop, which was open with your schedule on it.

“Pardon?” you asked.

“You didn’t take your lunch break, which means you haven’t eaten lunch,” your boss elaborated. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to lunch.”

Startled by his offer, you started shaking your head. “That’s alright, sir, I’ll just make a reservation for you.”

“I insist,” Younghoon retorted, taking his phone out of the pocket of his slacks. “Do you feel like eating anything in particular?”

“I’m not picky,” you said quietly, realising that you wouldn’t be able to get out of this.

“I’ll order in,” Younghoon decided, handing you his phone. “Pick whatever you want, it’s on me.”

“That’s really not necessary,” you attempted to argue, but Younghoon insisted.

Half an hour later, you were sat in the plush chair in front of Younghoon’s desk in his office, eating your noodles slowly as you observed your new boss. You weren’t sure if you were just misunderstanding him, or if he really was as blunt and cold as people said he was. However, you respected his father too much to make assumptions based on the first day of meeting him.

“My father speaks very highly of you,” Younghoon broke the silence in between bites of food. “He says that you’re the best secretary he’s ever had. And that you’re one of his favourite people he’s ever worked with.”

“Wow, that’s very high praise,” you said, stunned that Mr Kim even shared his compliments to you with his son. “I’m sure you and I will get along once we get to know each other better, too,” you offered.

Younghoon nodded. “People often misunderstand me,” he began. “I know that people think I’m cold and antisocial. Some people even think I’m arrogant,” a smile graced his face, one that was full and genuine. It lit up his sharp features and softened his entire face, causing him to practically glow. “The truth if that I’m just not very good at what I do yet. A lot of people have expectations of me and I want to meet them. But I’ve always been more reserved and introverted, so expressing that is hard for me.”

Pleased that he was opening up to you, you gave him an encouraging smile. “I understand,” you assured him. “I found this job really scary and hard when I first started. Mr Kim helped me a lot, and he made the office a warm environment where I felt comfortable.”

“I want to do that too,” Younghoon said. “But I also want people to take me seriously. I know I’m taking over much earlier than everyone expected me to, myself included, and I want to make a good impression.”

“You will make a good impression,” you told him. “It will just take some time.”

Younghoon nodded. “I think I scared the design team this afternoon,” he mumbled.

“You did,” you confessed, having just heard Kevin’s experience. Younghoon’s eyes filled with worry, brows furrowing together slightly. “But I think they would’ve been scared no matter what you were like.”

“I have a lot of positive things to say about them,” Younghoon told you, taking out his tablet and handing it to you. You took it, scrolling through the notes he took during the meeting. It was filled with compliments and suggestions to better the project.

“Kevin would love this,” you exclaimed. “These notes are very conceptual and visual, that’s exactly what helps him.” Handing his tablet back, you had to ask. “Why didn’t you say anything? Apparently, that’s what made the meeting the most daunting.”

“I didn’t want them to think that I thought I knew how to do their jobs better than them,” Younghoon confessed. “Because I don’t. That’s why they’re here.” The realisation that Younghoon was truly misunderstood hit you hard, and somehow it made you feel quite relieved. “I must have scared you this morning, too, then.” You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you said easily. “Everything is still very new. Anytime you need help with this kind of thing, or if you’re unsure about anything, just talk to me. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

Younghoon smiled again, and you observed how his handsome face could actually look quite cute. “Thank you, Y/n. Now eat your noodles before they get too cold.”

“Yes, boss,” you agreed, grinning before digging back into your lunch.

You first heard the news that the cost of company shares had plummeted from one of your friends in the finance department. Chanhee was good friends with you and Kevin, and he practically ran to your desk when he first saw the numbers going down.

“What happened?” you wondered, confused as to why the shares were going down in value all of a sudden. “Our most recent project was incredibly successful. Our shares should be going up in value more than anything.”

Chanhee bit his bottom lip, eyes flitting to the large oak door that led to Younghoon’s office. “He’s at a lunch meeting with a prominent fashion designer,” you explained, causing Chanhee to nod in relief.

“It’s Mr Kim,” Chanhee admitted, lowering his voice.

“Mr Kim?” you echoed. “Did he do something before Younghoon took over?”

Chanhee rolled his eyes. “No, I mean the new Mr Kim,” he corrected. “He only lets you call him by his first name,” he added, something that you hadn’t known. “When the news broke that he’s taking over, people started selling their shares at low prices. So, the value went down.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, confused. “But, he hasn’t even been here for a month yet? How can the public make such quick decisions on how he’ll impact the company?”

“Reputation is just as important as skills,” Chanhee reminded you. “You know that well. Mr Kim’s reputation is… Well, you work with him. I’ve been in meetings with him. He seems a little…”

“Cold?” you offered, sighing at the predicament at hand. Chanhee merely smiled, lifting one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Okay. We can fix this. I can talk to Younghoon when he returns from his meeting and-“

“Talk to me about what?” Younghoon called, stepping into the room with Sangyeon and Juyeon in toll.

Juyeon waved. “Hi, Y/n,” he greeted you, Sangyeon nodding in acknowledgement.

“Hi Juyeon, Sangyeon,” you replied, standing up from your chair as Chanhee trembled. “Younghoon, I was just talking to Chanhee about the company’s finances,” you said vaguely, giving Chanhee the chance to bow and duck out of the room.

“I’m assuming you mean the share and stock values,” Younghoon nodded, motioning for you to follow him into his office. “I saw it before heading into my lunch meeting. I don’t think it should be a big deal,” he decided, taking a seat at his desk as you closed the door behind you. “I can just have a meeting with the investors to explain my situation and get things straight. Once they know I’m reliable and competent, the matter will surely be resolved.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” you confessed, causing Younghoon to pause in his action of opening his planner. “It’s just that reputation is very important here. Especially in large companies such as yours,” you added. “I think it would be best if we focused on stimulating your image more. So far, people only have rumours about you from your business school peers, as well as magazine and newspaper interviews to go off of. You’re still a mystery to the public.”

“I like my privacy,” Younghoon explained, a small pout forming on his mouth.

You averted your eyes from his lips. “But image is still important. Your father had the image of a friendly family-oriented man who raised money to build homes for the underprivileged population,” you recalled. “We could have some events to stimulate your own image. Parties, charity events…”

“You really think this will help?” Younghoon asked, eyes resembling those of a scared puppy.

The fact that he had terrified you so much upon your first meeting felt like a hundred years ago to you. Now that you had been working together for almost a month, you had seen how nervous Younghoon was. And how cute he could act. Seeing him around Sangyeon and Juyeon also helped. The pair was hilarious and they always brought out a happier, more relaxed side of Younghoon that you were pleased to see.

You knew that Younghoon just wanted to do well and make his father proud. He was less confident in his abilities than you thought he should be.

You nodded. “What should we do?” Younghoon wondered.

“I think we should find something that you enjoy and promote it,” you began. “What do you like to do, other than work?”

“I don’t have time for much else,” Younghoon thought. Whenever he was deep in thought, his head tilted to the side and and his eyes looked up at the ceiling as he mumbled under his breath. It was a truly cute sight.

“He likes music! He’s actually a pretty decent singer,” Sangyeon supplied for his friend, giving him an encouraging smile when Younghoon stammered a denial,

“That’s great,” you exclaimed. “We could talk to our charity department and look into funding music programs at schools. Arts are always underfunded and could use our help,” you suggested. “And I think that meeting with the investors is a good idea. But instead of talking about your qualifications and experience, you could talk about the direction you want to take the company in. Focus on the fact that you took over from Mr Kim the second he needed you.”

“Does that makes me sound soft and emotional?” Younghoon asked. “I don’t want to look weak in front of the investors.”

You smiled. “The investors are here because they trusted your father’s vision for the company, and they trusted that he was a family man who wanted to do good with the assets his company had.” You recalled the many meetings you sat in on with Mr Kim, and how much everyone adored him. “You take after your father. The fact that you finished business school early to help him with the company, and that you want to do well will please the investors.”

Juyeon laughed. “Your secretary knows this company better than you do,” he teased his friend.

Younghoon managed a smile, meeting your eyes amongst his giggling friends. “That’s why I need her,” he reminded Juyeon, a comment which made you beam.

“Y/n!” Sunwoo from advertising called out to you as you walked down the hall. He came rushing in your direction, despite the fact that you stood still to wait for him, holding a stack of papers in his hand. “Could you get these to Mr Kim for me?” he asked you, passing the papers on. “They’re the final proposals for the advertising of his charity event,” Sunwoo explained.

Younghoon’s meeting with the investors had gone really well, and he had definitely won their favours and respect. He mentioned wanting to invest in art and music programs because of his own passion for music, and had many ideas for a charity event to promote their program. The investors, always happy to go to a party and excited for the direction Younghoon wanted to take the company in, were overjoyed with his suggestion.

“Um, sure,” you agreed with furrowed brows. “Why don’t you just bring them to him, though? Your office is on the same floor.”

“Oh,” Sunwoo stared at you with large, round eyes. “Can’t,” he stammered. “Meeting. Gotta go. Thanks, Y/n!” he called, waving at you as he darted away in the direction of the elevator.

Ignoring his odd behaviour, you flipped through the pages to make sure everything was there before making your way back to your desk. When you arrived, you sorted out the notes you had photocopied for Younghoon from Sunwoo’s proposals, just as you heard another person call you name.

“Would you be able to give these to Mr Kim?” Changmin from human resources asked, showing you a thick stack of papers, stapled together in the top left corner. “They’re the human resources policies for the next financial year. He wanted to see them before the end of the week so he could sign off on them.”

“I can,” you agreed. “But his office is right there. Why don’t you just go in and give them to him? I’m sure he’d be happy to see you since he’s cooped up in his office all day.”

Changmin gave you a nervous smile, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “I would, but I actually have someone on hold at my desk,” he admitted.

Your eyes widened. “Why did you bring me this while waiting for someone? Go, go! It could be important,” you shooed him away, earning a loud thank you from him before he rushed to get back to his desk.

Sighing, you stacked his papers on top of the ones you were organising and made your way into Younghoon’s office, knocking on the door to let him know you were coming. “Woah,” Younghoon stared at the large pile of papers in your arms as you entered, leaving the door open behind you. “That’s a lot of photocopied notes from your meeting with Mr Park,” he observed.

You laughed at his comment, spreading the papers out in three neat piles in front of him. “I also have Sunwoo from advertising’s final proposal for the charity event ads, and I have Changmin from human resource’s policies for the next financial year.”

At your revelation, Younghoon groaned and buried his face in his hands. “They hate me,” he whined, looking at you from in between his fingers. “They don’t even want to come into my office. I always wonder if people are meeting their deadlines, since nobody ever comes to see me. But they just like you better than me.”

“They don’t like me better than you,” you deny, causing Younghoon to laugh ironically, removing his hands from his face so his pout was visible. “They just know me better than you! You’re still their new, cool, super educated boss. They haven’t gotten to know you yet.”

“You’re probably right,” he mumbled, flipping through your notes. “How do I get them to know me better?”

“Well, it might help if you don’t just stay in your office all day,” you suggested unsurely. “You don’t seem very… accessible to them.”

“But I like being in my office,” Younghoon told you. “It means you’re just a single door away. I like when you’re close by. It makes my day better.”

Your eyes widened at his unexpected compliment, causing Younghoon’s expression to follow suit. He laughed awkwardly, pink dusting his cheeks in embarrassment. “Was that inappropriate? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he apologised quickly, clasping his hands together and leaning slightly away from you.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured him. “I’m glad that you’re comfortable around me.”

“I’m more than comfortable with you,” Younghoon corrected, standing up from his chair to be at eye-level with you. His tall presence used to want to make you cower away, but now that you knew Younghoon personally, you felt secure enough to meet his eyes and lean into him. “I’m… safe. Happy, even.”

The admission made you grin, not minding the way you could feel his breath against your cheek or the fact that you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. “I make you happy?” you whispered teasingly, relishing in the way that Younghoon’s cheeks darkened even further, a nervous laugh leaving his lips.

“Blissful,” Younghoon corrected, his eyes shining with warmth.

“This is cute,” a voice called behind you. You startled, turning to see Juyeon and Sangyeon standing in the doorway of Younghoon’s office, smirking at the two of you. Sangyeon had spoken, looking like he was ready to burst into giggles at any moment. “Do you guys always make fond eyes at each other when we leave you alone?” he teased.

Ignoring his comment, you greeted the two with a smile and excused yourself from Younghoon’s office to go cool off; you could feel your face heating up with embarrassment and wanted a moment to catch your breath.

In the time that Younghoon had taken over as CEO, you had gotten to see many sides of him. On the first day, he was open with you after making a bad first impression on you and you had decided that you would give him a chance. You hadn’t realised how shy and cute Younghoon could be. Of course, he could be loud and carefree around old friends like Sangyeon and Juyeon as well, and he was slowly starting to make jokes with you as well. Now, he was saying that he felt downright blissful when you were around.

The change made you really happy.

On the night of Younghoon’s charity event, you had arrived early to make sure everything was in order. Dressed to the nines, you had to admit that you were pleased with how you looked that evening, putting in a lot of effort since you knew that the event meant a lot to Younghoon.

After discussing how the dishes should go out with the catering company, you allowed yourself to take in the large ballroom now that it was empty and before it would be overcrowded with rich investors, businessmen, and press. Just as you were going over the schedule for the evening with the event planner, you heard a sharp intake of air behind you.

“Wow,” you turned around, revealing Younghoon standing there breathlessly.

He wore an elegant black suit and tie, topped off by perfectly styled hair and his usual silver watch that his father had given him for getting into Harvard Business School. Younghoon always looked handsome, but in this moment, he was absolutely radiant. He looked like he belonged at this event, like he was the CEO of the Kim corporation.

You smiled. “I could say the same,” you complimented, motioning to Younghoon with your hands. “You clean up pretty nicely.”

“Ah, well, my secretary did get my suit perfectly tailored to fit me,” Younghoon said, smoothing down lapels of his suit jacket with a beam.

“Your secretary must be smart,” you replied, stepping towards Younghoon and adjusting his tie properly. “Because you look great. Dignified, sophisticated-”

“Handsome?” Younghoon asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“You know you’re handsome,” you retorted with an eye roll.

“Maybe,” Younghoon shrugged, placing a hand on top of yours on his chest. You froze at his action, glancing up at him through your lashes. “But I want to hear what you think.”

“You look very handsome,” you allowed, trying to speak as smoothly as possible without indicating how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“If I look half as good as you, I’ll be happy,” Younghoon replied, gently releasing your hand and clearing his throat. “You did a really great job arranging this event. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Well the event planner organised it, I just told her what you wanted,” you said humbly, denying the large part you had in the event.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Younghoon told you. “If I know you at all, then you were constantly jotting down details that I mentioned vaguely and made sure that the event planner fixed everything to my preference,” he paused. “And I’d like to think that I know you quite well.”

“Believe me, you do,” you answered. “And thank you. For seeing the work I put in.”

“It’s you,” Younghoon shrugged. “I always see you.”

As the event began and more guests started coming, you were delighted to see Mr Kim enter with Younghoon’s mother on his arm, beaming at all the familiar faces he saw. “Mr Kim!” You called out to him, not having seen your old boss since his farewell party.

“Y/n,” Mr Kim replied, accepting a hug from you and releasing you so you could greet his wife. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“I’ve missed you, Mr Kim,” you admitted. Of course you loved working for Younghoon too, but you hadn’t seen Mr Kim in far too long.

“I’ve missed you too, Y/n,” Mr Kim promised. “Although, I’ve heard a lot about you from Younghoon any time we meet. It seems that you’re all he has to talk about, more so than his company,” Mr Kim narrowed his eyes at you playfully, a knowing glint in his eyes. “He seems quite taken with you.”

Taken with you. You could feel the butterflies start to wake up in your stomach as your heart beat a little faster at Mr Kim’s implication. “He’s wonderful to work with,” you told him, brushing off the way Mr and Mrs Kim were both giggling at you. “You’ve raised an amazing man.”

“Well, he certainly make us proud,” Mr Kim allowed. “You look nervous. You should be relaxing, Y/n. You planned a very successful charity event.”

“I’m more nervous about Younghoon behind nervous,” you admitted. “I just want him to know that he’s doing well. He always thinks he’s not doing good enough even though he’s gone above and beyond.”

“He might relax if he sees you have some fun,” Mr Kim said, stopping a passing waiter to get champagne for himself, Mrs Kim, and you. “A toast to Y/n and Younghoon’s partnership,” he proposed, causing the three of you to clink glasses and sip the bubbly beverage.

“Mum, Dad,” Younghoon appeared at your side, greeting his father and then his mother with hugs. “I didn’t know if you two would make it tonight.”

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Mr Kim assured his son, causing Younghoon’s lips to spread into a wide smile. 

“You did great today, Younghoonie. You and Y/n have a lot to be proud of,” Mrs Kim added.

“Thank you, Dad, Mum,” Younghoon was ecstatic to hear praise from his father. “I couldn’t have done it without Y/n, though. I’m grateful that you hired her.”

“I bet you are,” Mr Kim hummed, winking at his son before facing Mrs Kim. “How about a dance?” he offered, excusing themselves and making their way to the dance area.

When you turned to face Younghoon, his face seemed to have reddened. “What did my dad tell you?” he wondered.

You raised an eyebrow. “Um, just that you talk about me to him a lot. And that you’re quite taken with me,” you recalled, realising how romantic Mr Kim’s descriptions were.

Younghoon whined embarrassedly, shutting his eyes as if it would make him disappear. “I told him not to talk to you about any of that, I wanted to tell you all that myself…” he muttered, opening his eyes to see your curious expression.

“All what?” you asked dumbly, hoping that you weren’t just getting your hopes up at Mr Kim’s implications.

“The way I feel about you,” Younghoon explained nervously. “I wanted to tell you… Tell you that I’ve loved working with you these past few months. That you make me nervous and excited and happy whenever I’m around you. How hearing your voice makes my day and how I can barely contain a blush any time we’re alone. That I’m falling in love with you more and more every single day…” he trailed off, gently taking your hands in his. His touch was familiar now. “I didn’t want my declaration to be in such a public place, though,” Younghoon’s eyes flitted around he crowded ballroom.

You laughed, tears blurring your vision just slightly. “It’s fine,” you promised him, lacing your fingers through his. “I don’t care where you tell me, as long as I know.”

Younghoon nodded, taking your comment as permission to pull you closer to him. “This is the part where you tell me that you feel the same,” he whispered, close enough in proximity for you to hear his murmur above the noise in the ballroom.

“You seem confident that I return your feelings,” you mentioned, trailing your hands from his up his arms, across his shoulders and eventually to rest on the back of his neck. “What happened to the sweet, introverted Younghoon that couldn’t even smile at me when we met?”

“Precisely that: I met you,” Younghoon told you. “Now, if you’re not going to tell me that you feel the same, you should at least kiss me,” he added as an afterthought. “It would only be fair.”

“Well, in the name of fairness…” you trailed off, lifting onto the balls of your feet to lean up and press your lips to Younghoon’s. 

The pounding in your heart only intensified, encouraged by the way Younghoon smile against your lips before returning your kiss. In that moment, it didn’t matter that you were in public at all. All you could focus on was the way Younghoon’s lips felt on yours and how he pulled you impossibly closer to him with each bruising kiss.

“Disgusting,” you heard a voice mutter, easily recognising it as Juyeon’s after months of seeing him almost every day. Reluctantly, you pulled away from Younghoon, glancing sideways to where Sangyeon and Juyeon were sipping on champagne to hide their excited smiles.

“You guys know that you’re in public, right?” Sangyeon added.

“It’s my event,” Younghoon shrugged. “If I want to kiss my secretary then I will.”

“I hope you don’t go around kissing all of your secretaries,” you retorted with a laugh.

“Just the one I’m in love with,” he replied, sending you a wink that made your heart flutter.

note: this was a long one but i hope you still enjoyed it!

[valewright67]

Melizabeth Week, Day Two: Heaven/Hell - Heaven

Fair warning, this is an old one I wrote but never published. I wasn't sure what else to do for it. Also, I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes.

A bit of OOC with Ludociel

_-_-_-_-_

 "So where should we go first? Now that we're free from the curse. We agreed we'd travel, right? Sooo.... Any ideas?" Meliodas asked, leaning back against Elizabeth. His eyes were closed in bliss as he lay cradled in her arms, back to chest. She was leaning against the headboard on their bed. "Hm… Well, we could return to the celestial village? I've got my memories back now, and… well, that's the closest place to the goddess realm I can get. I'd like to visit. Fly around a land above the clouds once more."

He hummed and turned his head, nuzzling into her collarbone gently. "Sounds good to me. Should we invite any of the others?" Her eyes lit up. "That's a splendid idea! I'm sure Mael would like to visit a place like that too! Zeldris and Gelda as well!" She giggled. "We can invite the rest of the sins, but to be honest? I think they're pretty occupied."

True to her prediction, the sins all declined this time round, citing… alone time. (For Merlin and Gowther, that was literal. They just wanted to be left alone for awhile.) Mael was eager to come, for the same reasons Elizabeth had listed. Zeldris was reluctant, but Gelda convinced him, saying it'd be good for him and Meliodas to spend some quality time together, and she wished to discuss more with Elizabeth.  

By the time the group of five had arrived, the sun was almost rising. "Oh, the spring is refilled! Good, that's convenient! We could have flown, but it would’ve been irritating." Meliodas said. He leaned down by the water and tapped it gently, channeling his energy into opening the portal. An extra burst of goddess magic from Elizabeth by his side, and the familiar glow lit up the pool. He grinned and stood, looking to the other couple. "Zeldris, Gelda. After you."

The black haired demon sighed. "Why do I feel like this is a bad idea?" The blonde smirked. "Because it probably is. Have fun!" 

"...why do I ever trust you?" He grumbled, but dove into the pool anyways, quickly followed by Gelda. Elizabeth smiled at Mael. "You next." He nodded and went without complaint. Elizabeth after him, and Meliodas last, closing the portal behind him.

_-_-_-_-_

Zeldris blinked, adjusting the sudden darkness of the cave as Gelda broke the surface besides him. He swam out and pulled her with him. "Might as well take a look around. They'll be a minute." She nodded and the two walked out of the cave, into the sunlight. 

He almost gasped. The view was incredible. It was stifled though, when he felt a presence of light flying towards him. He was immediately on the defensive and enabled his hellfire with a snarl, whirling around to face the potential threat. 

Goddesses!

Wait… no. These didn't feel like Goddesses. Similar, but off. That's right, they're celestials. Apparently, descended from the heavenly beings who'd once been his mortal enemies. It was hard to remember that now, sometimes. That the war was over, and he had FRIENDS from the other side.

He held his hands up. "Wait, please, I mean you no harm, I swear it!" The bearded man holding a familiar feathered sword scowled. "Like we would believe you, demon! There's only one demon we've ever trusted, and that's not you!" 

Zeldris tried to speak, to explain that he was pretty sure he knew exactly who they were talking about, and that they had nothing to fear from him. “You mean Meliodas, right? I’m-” Before he could complete his sentence, however, the man held the sword up near his throat threateningly. "No lies will spill from your throat before blood, demon scum." Gelda snarled. "How DARE you threaten my husband, you IMPUDENT prick-"

"I am only defending my home from the likes of creatures like you!"

"Remove the sword from my husband's neck!"

"Absolutely not! Either of you make a move, and I slit his throat!"

"MELIODAS IS MY BROTHER!!!"

The man froze and stared at him, before scowling suddenly. "You lying scum-"

"Hey, hey, hey! How about we all calm down, now!" Mael said, emerging from the cave entrance, arms raised placatingly. "There's no need for figh…ting… is that my sword??" He gaped at it. "I haven't seen that thing in 3000 years! This is where it's been the whole time??" 

The Celestials didn't say a word, too stunned at the sudden appearance of a GODDESS, when they were supposed to be wiped out. And not only a goddess, but apparently the first wielder of their most sacred sword. He shook his head. "Um, well anyways. My names Mael, I'm one of the four archangels. That's Zeldris and Gelda. They're not gonna hurt you, the five of us just came for for visit."

"Five? Where's the other two?" By now a small crowd had gathered. The trio blinked as a small blonde man, looking eerily like Meliodas, were it not for the wings on his back, walked forwards. A woman looking near identical to Elizabeth by his side. Mael blinked and smiled. "I'd think they were right in front of me, if I didn't know any better, but they should be here in just a moment. They came through the portal last."

The two exchanged looks. Did he mean…? "Yo, Solaad!" Sure enough, the blonde demon who'd saved them during the time of ruin came up through the cave. "Why are you all terrorizing Zelly?" (A scowl at the nickname was directed at him, but he just smirked at the younger.) "He won't hurt anyone, I promise."

"Hello, Elatte. And everyone else too! It has been quite a long while, hasn't it?" Elizabeth spoke, walking up behind Meliodas with her wings folded neatly against her back.

…wait.

Wings??

"Meliodas? E-Elizabeth? Since when did you get WINGS??" Solaad asked. Elatte glanced at the older man. "Sir Zoria, please drop the sword, Meliodas himself said that this man means no harm."

Elizabeth gave a soft smile. "It's complicated. I've always had them, in a way, as I was born a goddess in my first life. But I was cursed by the demon king to reincarnate as a human for the rest of time, and if I should ever get my memories back, I would die in three days." She fluttered her wings gently. "We managed to break the curse, after 3000 years and 107 lifetimes."

"...who's 'we?' And why did the demon king curse you, what did you DO??" Zoria asked. She laughed. "Well. His firstborn son and I fell in love." She gestured to Meliodas, who had drifted over to Zeldris and thrown an arm over his shoulder, apparently teasing him in demon tongue, much to the younger's displeasure. Zeldris was almost visibly bristling, and his face was red.

“Meliodas is the son the demon king??” Solaad almost yelled, gaining the two demons' attention. “I mean, yes?” Meliodas said, arm still around Zeldris’s shoulders. “Though the previous demon king is dead now, we killed pops. I’m not exactly the current demon king's son.”

Mistress Vaness hobbled forwards. “Who could possibly have the power necessary to take the place of a god?” Meliodas and Zeldris blinked, looked at each other and back at her. “We share the burden.” They said together. She gaped. “You mean…?” They smirked. “Yep! Zeldris is my younger brother. We have the same blood, which makes it easier to share the role of demon king.” 

“Meli is, technically, the stronger by default. But we split the demon king's power and influence 50/50. He just had a more powerful base. Not by much though.” Zeldris added on. 

Meliodas ruffled his hair fondly, and Zeldris swatted him off, retreating to Gelda’s side.  The blonde laughed and drifted back over towards Elizabeth. Mael was just. There. He was still looking at the sword. “Where did you all even get that?” He asked, baffled. The Celestials all exchanged looks and Elatte smiled at him. Solaad took the sword. “Come, we will show you.” They took off and flew down towards a temple. The group followed them.

Elatte gestured up at the magnificent murals. "The legend says that 3,000 years ago, a dark haired goddess in flowing robes accompanied the great Oshiro when Sealing away the demons on our island. He gave us the sword right before his body was spent."

She pointed to a section along the side. “All he said was: ‘I cannot bear to look at this blade any longer. Perhaps it will protect you all better than it did my brother.’ And then he was gone, simple as that. We have passed it down, generation to generation. It is because of Solaad figuring out that it could be used to seal away demons that we are all still alive.”

Mael flew up towards the mural, gazing at the depiction of the goddess. “His name was Ludociel. He was my older brother. There was a forbidden spell cast that changed the memories of everyone in the world, including that of the gods. It made it seem as though I had been killed by Estarossa, one of three demon princes. In reality, Estarossa never existed. I was transformed into him, and false memories were implanted in everyone’s head, including mine. I had no idea that I was actually Mael.” He gave a small smile. “The memories are all still there, though. It is strange. I am both Mael of Sunshine, one of the four archangels, younger brother to Ludociel of Flash. And also, I’m Estarossa, second of the three demon princes, Commandment of Love. It is… strange. I don’t fit in anywhere anymore. Not really.”

Meliodas and Zeldris exchanged glances and flew up next to him. “Mael.” Zeldris started, quietly. “For a moment in time, even without the false memories, you were still our brother.” Meliodas grinned. “Yeah! You may not be Estarossa, but, like you said, he never existed in the first place. He was made up. But you are Mael, and we may as well count you as our brother. Even if you did kill me.” He smirked and the goddess gave a strained chuckle. “Thank you.” He murmured, drifting back down to the ground. Meliodas slapped his shoulder, and Zeldris nudged his side in an unspoken display of commadry. 

He turned and looked to Solaad. “The sword belongs to your people now, I accept that. But… Would you permit me to wield it once more?” The blonde nodded and held the sword out to him. He took it gratefully, feeling the familiar weight of it. He twisted it around, reacquainting himself with it.

He walked outside into the clearing and took a deep breath, centering himself. He thrust the sword up towards the sun, channeling its energy, and he spoke. “Huius bring animam suam. Iterum ego volo loqui cum eo.” The sword lit up, and a beam of light shot out of it. He grunted. “Permitte mihi vedere!” He removed a hand and pointed it forward. The beam of light connecting him to the sun moved through him and flowed out of his hand. A silhouette started to form, flickering. He pushed his hand a little bit farther forward, and more light and magic poured out of him. “Emerge.”

The silhouette solidified. A goddess stood there, blinking and looking confusedly at his hands and then around him. His eyes landed on Mael, and then the stream of light that flowed to him and formed his body. A glimmer of understanding crossed his face, and he looked back up, meeting his brother's gaze.

“Mael… Hello, little brother. What are you doing?” He smiled kindly. Mael gave him a slightly strained grin. “Hi Ludociel. I missed you, I wanted to see you again.” The dark haired goddess softened a little and walked forward, caressing the side of his face. “I have missed you too, all these years. You cannot keep this up for long, however. Manifesting a soul takes up a lot of magic, and you’re going to burn yourself out.” Mael leaned into his palm. “I know, but… my sword… I can channel more magic through it, and I just. I needed to talk to you again. I needed to tell you how sorry I was, Luce...” 

He shushed him. “None of that, Mael. There is nothing to forgive. You’re my little brother, and I love you. I understand.” He glanced around again. “So you made your way to the Celestial’s island. I remember giving them your sword. I couldn’t stand seeing it without you there everyday. I just wanted to get rid of it. I’m a little impressed they’ve kept it in such good shape all these years. Heaven knows most of the rest of our weapons were damaged or destroyed over the centuries.”

Mael wobbled a little, and Ludociels image faded. His hand was clasped on his older brother's shoulder, channeling the magic directly into him. He grunted and forced himself to straighten, Ludociel’s body solidifying again. He gave him a sad smile. “You have to let me go, Mael. Before you hurt yourself.” “No! I’m not, I’m not done talking to you yet, there’s so much I need to say!” He grunted again, the magic taxing on him. Ludociel was about to force him to stop, when two beams of pure magical energy hit his back, reinvigorating him. He turned to look, and Zeldris and Meliodas were lending their power to him. 

“He’s our brother too, in a way.” Meliodas said. Zeldris finished the thought. “He deserves to get to talk to you, after everything.” With the extra influx of magic, Ludociels form started to glow. He could almost feel his body again. Elizabeth walked forwards. “Ludociel… I can do this for you, at least.” He blinked, almost surprised to see her here. She pressed one hand over his forehead, and another over his chest. She inhaled deeply, eyes closed. On the exhale, she spoke. “Revertere ad vita.” His eyes widened. Return to life. 

Her hands glowed with a brilliant light, and he could feel a true body forming around him. She groaned, drawing on her reserves. Gelda scowled and whirled around to the celestials. “You all have light magic! Give her some of yours!”

They were frozen, but Elatte stepped forwards and lifted her hands, pointing at Elizabeth’s back. “All of our power into one! Heal!” A beam of green light shot out of her hands and into Elizabeth. The other celestials were quick to follow her example.

She gathered the influx of energy and pushed it into him. A blinding light filled the clearing, and when it faded, Ludociel was actually there, kneeling on the ground, naked as the day he was born. Though, Elizabeth supposed that made sense, considering he had just been reborn, in a way. Mael dropped the sword and stumbled forward, clinging to him tightly. Ludociel hugged him back. 

“...May I please have something to cover up with?” He asked. Mael laughed and took off the topcoat of his robe, wrapping it around him. Ludociel buttoned it up, silently thanking that it was long, and reached to his ankles.

Mael stood, and helped him to his feet, the two leaning on each other for support. Meliodas had already gathered Elizabeth up, and was holding her while she regained her energy. The two murmured gently back and forth. Gelda and Zeldris were doing the same not too far away.

"Mael…" He started. "Thank you, little brother." The light haired goddess grinned and leaned in to hug him once more. "I missed you, big brother." Ludociel smiled and stroked his hair. "We can talk later. For now, let's just enjoy the moment."

"Elizabeth… How did you do that? Even with all of our energy, we cannot bring someone back to life. So how is that with you performing the spell, it was successful?" Solaad asked, picking up the sword. She smiled a little. "I honestly had no idea that would work. I hoped, of course, but I had no way of knowing for sure."

Ludociel barked out a tired laugh. "You are far too modest, Lady Elizabeth." He turned to the gathered celestials. "She is more powerful than even I or Mael are at our strongest, when she wishes to be. Her healing powers far surpass even the best of our other healers. She is able to remove the darkness from even Indura’s, and has done so before, purifying two Indura demons at the same time. Her formal title is Elizabeth Lightbringer." He gave a small smirk as he added on one more tidbit of information. "Daughter of the Supreme Deity."

Gasps echoed through the crowd, and Elizabeth sighed. "Please, it's really not that big of a deal-" "But it is, Elizabeth." Mael said, with a brilliant smile. "Of the goddesses, you are second in power and ability only to your mother. In the rest of the world. Well. You married your equal." He nodded his head at Meliodas, who returned it with a smirk. 

The two brothers walked off, shooting the crowd and, specifically, the demons and Elizabeth, grateful smiles. Meliodas clapped and rubbed his hands, wings taking shape on his back. "I'm hungry. I'll catch a sky fish, and you'll teach me how to cook one. Deal? Deal!" He flung off the ground and Elizabeth bristled, bolting after him. "YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO COOK, YOU'LL POISON US!!" He just cackled. 

[cblgblog]

Sorry I’m advance but one of my other favorite accounts just reblogged a Tony scene and people are talking about Civil War and how it made them Stan Tony, and how when they watch that movie they hate team cap👀 Then someone was all about how he was sleep deprived and how much pressure he was under and couldn’t understand how people didn’t like Tony because. Someone literally said that when someone says they don’t like Tony in Civil War they say “did you watch the same movie as me.” I’m baffled. Oddly enough someone else said, “he just wants to help everyone.” Sorry for the rant but I think people forget about what the accords are and what it would mean for people. Side note, I hope you’re having a great day/night 😀

No sorry needed!

I feel you man, I do. Honestly, I’ve unfollowed people based on similar posts when I was in especially Done moods, so.

Look on the one hand, the movie would’ve been a narrative failure if everyone was in favor of one side or the other, right? The whole point of the damn thing—besides giving the Mouse overlords more money—was to spark discussion, debate. Which, yeah, we’ll call that the tame description for what actually happened. But just, the thing was meant to split the fanbase so in that regard…winning? Thanks, I guess?

Film is also very obviously subjective, different strokes for different folks, so yeah, ten people can watch a movie and none of them are gonna see the exact same film. Let’s try to remember that this is, in theory anyway, a good thing. I just read a professional film review yesterday where I had the same reaction. What film were you watching, dude? Incidentally his reviewing partner said the same thing.

So honestly, no, they weren’t watching the same film as you or I or anyone else, because everyone brings their own biases and experiences and knowledge and interests into a thing, and that’s always going to flavor how it’s viewed. Again, let’s try to remember that this is good. In theory. Heavy on the theory.

That out of the way? Let’s get into Tony specifically so his uber stans can find this and scream at me on anon as though I just shot RDJ with a nuke.

Oh yeah, he was stressed. Oh, he was sleep deprived. Yeah, I’ve heard that. And that it’s Pepper’s fault, if she hadn’t left the poor baby, if she was there to rein him in, he’d be fine dammit, leave the baby alone!

Here’s the thing. You know who gets a pass on their shit behavior when they’re upset or tired? Actual babies. Actual babies and toddlers, and children, up to a point. Because they actually cannot always help themselves. Their bodies and brains are different, they have not learned better.

When you’re a 50-year-old man who’s supposedly the world’s bestest superhero, who wants, wants to be in charge of protecting the whole world? You need a little more self-control than that. The sleep deprived excuse works if you snap at someone before you’ve had your coffee, not for this. Roseanne Barr didn’t get to blame Ambien for her racism, Tony doesn’t get to handwave CW away because oops, I was tired.

Really? You’re a superhero, dude. Most of your teammates are tired too, that’s part of the gig. If you crash and burn this badly without your afternoon nap, fucking hang up the armor and go back to your billionaire playboy lifestyle.

Speaking of that, sure, right. It’s Pepper’s fault because she left him. Put aside the argument on whether that was justified or not (cough, it was and she should’ve stayed away even though they are adorable together). It’s not Pepper’s job to keep Tony sane. It’s not any partner’s job to do that for anyone. If she wants out, she has a right to that, without Tony going off the rails and blaming it on her. Seriously, he says part of the reason he backed the Accords was to “split the difference” with Pepper.

Dude. You were an asshole and you lost your girl. You destroyed all your suits, turned an emotional and mental corner in IM 3…and then relapsed 4 minutes later I guess because Whedon. Either way, Tony admits himself that he does not want to stop. So instead of doing that, or finding another partner who can accept that, you back an unjust international law that pits you against your team, your supposed friends? Go to therapy, have a pint of ice cream, cry into your pillow, send her more of those strawberries you sent her in IM 2 that she’s allergic to. You don’t go trying to change international law in ways that could ultimately affect millions of people because your girl left you.

Honestly—and thank God they didn’t do this but—the only way the Pepper excuse works in excusing his behavior in any way is if she’d died. Or been severely injured like Happy in IM 3. Still wouldn’t be okay, but, like Quill messing up their chance to stop Thanos because Gamora died, it would’ve been more understandable. Understandable, not excusable, and the way the MCU treats their women as manpain fodder, we’re probably legit lucky we didn’t get this.

As for him wanting to help everyone. He does in fact want that, I think. The problem is that his need to feel like he’s doing that is stronger than his rational mind, or his want to actually help in a constructive way.

Tony is too smart. He’s dumb as hell in many instances, mostly involving people and relationships, but he’s also too smart, and he’s been told for too long that he’s smart, and he’s bought into it. Ultron. Suit of armor around the world, protects the world, no more alien threats. It’s a simple concept on paper that fails in execution. So there are people with dangerous powers. Okay, we’ll make a set of laws to keep them from being dangerous, problem solved. But again, it isn’t.

Tony is not used to problems he cannot solve. He’s a genius, right? He can fix anything. He should be able to fix anything. That’s how he feels. But not everything is zeros and ones and circuits, things that can be fixed mechanically like his armors can. The people he wants to protect are not built that way. But he needs to feel like he’s doing something, because he’s terrified of what happens to the world if he doesn’t. So he creates these simple solutions to complex problems. The suit of armor, the Accords. They sound good in theory, but the problems they’re trying to solve are bigger than they are. And Tony, way back in IM 1, he sat back for years, clueless that his weapons were being used for bad things. He says it to Cap in CW. When he found out what his weapons were being used for, he went in and stopped it. Whether or not he should’ve known that already is a separate issue here. The point here is that when he found out, too late or not, he went in and did something about it.

Tony needs to do something about it. Again, go back to Cap in AoU, Tony’s nightmare sequence. Steve asks Tony why he didn’t save them. Tony’s ultimate nightmare is that he sits back and does nothing, and his inaction causes everyone to die. Which is where you get Ultron. Something he came up with because of what he saw in space in Avengers 1, then doubled down on in AoU. It’s where you get the Accords. Oops, he caused someone to die, he killed Charles Spencer. Must do something about that right now so it doesn’t happen again, and he won’t have to feel this guilt. He should be collaborating with others to come up with solutions (no Bruce in AoU doesn’t count because Bruce was dumb there), or at the very least, taking more time to think through the repercussions of the things he puts out there. But he doesn’t, because he’s got his savior complex that tells him that he alone can and must fix this, and because he’s too dumb to realize how not-smart he is in certain areas.

“We need to be put in check. Whatever form that takes, I’m game.”

Isn’t that what he says in CW, or something very close to it? Whatever form that takes. That’s the issue, right there, whatever form that takes. Realistically, yes, there should be laws regarding people with powers, the same way there are special laws pertaining to people who carry guns, or people who are licensed to fly planes. You have a thing/can do a thing that not everyone else does, so there are regulations pertaining to that thing. Laws change with the times, they always have. Some new technology comes up, eventually there will be laws that regulate it. As there should be, honestly. The issue with the Accords, Steve’s issue with the Accords, was not the basic idea. He says as much. He says that it could work, but there would have to be safeguards. Safeguards that are not in the Accords that Tony wants him to sign.

It's not a matter of oh, fuck the law, there should be no law governing these people, they’re above it. The problem is that the law as it’s presented here is unjust. There’s what, a month between Lagos and Ross coming by to tell them about the Accords? A month is not enough time to properly analyze such a big issue, Especially when you’re reacting out of fear, which is what happened with Lagos. People died because of an Enhanced person, an Avenger, in this case. Lawmakers don’t want that to happen again, they especially don’t want the political shit storm that comes with it. Damn, we look like we were asleep at the switch here, not having anything to throw at this problem earlier. Quick, let’s throw together this thing so no one can say we’re not addressing the problem.

Patriot Act of 2001, anyone? 9/11 happened, the public were rightfully terrified, the US said oh man, these are unprecedented circumstances, we’ve never had this before. Don’t worry though, we’re on this, we’re protecting you. The reality being that that bill simply gave the government too much power, most of it being used against people who were not actually threats, and it’s debatable, to say the very least, whether or not that law helped more than it hurt.

No law is perfect. No law ever will be. It’s not possible. We still have to strive for perfection though, have to aim there so that the laws we get are as close to fair as possible. Tony’s a big deal. If not for his “whatever form that takes” attitude, he might’ve been able to use his influence to pressure lawmakers into coming up with a fairer bill. Hey, I’m me, the public loves me, I will endorse this bill publicly and work on getting the rest of the team to sign, but you need to change this and this and this first, or no deal. Instead, he took the easy way out, the quickest, easiest way for him to feel like he’s atoned for his sins without actually doing anything. Whatever form that takes.

Tony’s not wrong because he backs the creation of a law that addresses these things. He’s wrong because he says himself that he does not care what that law does, specifically, so long as it exists. He’s wrong because he violates said law upteen times during the movie, while preaching to team Cap about what assholes they are for not backing it. He’s wrong because he cares more about feeling as though he’s tackled a problem than he does about taking the time to make sure that the thing he’s proposing is actually a good idea. He’s wrong because of what he does with Bucky, though that’s honestly a separate issue, for the purposes of this discussion.

Anyway, that was longer than I ever wanted it to be. Damn. Next time you see a comment about CW being the reason people stan Tony, just remember there are other people out there who stopped stanning Tony because of that movie. Everyone’s entitled to see a piece of media however they see it, and although the Tony stans are often the loudest, there are plenty of like-minded people out there who share your take on events. Block who you need to, unfollow who you need to, blacklist what you need to, and don’t let them get you down.

Hang in there, and have an awesome day :)

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villainsicle | Part 13

I know it’s been a while, and if I’m being completely honest, I really ran out of steam on this story for a while. But, we’re back! If you’re new to my blog and are interested in this story, all of the parts up to this one can be found linked in my pinned info post.

Thank you guys so much for all your support of this series so far! I hope you enjoy this part, too!

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

@literally-just-kirby​

@the-polari-person

@teachunks

@daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog

@sunflower1000

@lightdrinker-blog

@regalwritten

CW//Mentions of bathing, restraints, drugs, dehumanization, conspiracies, collars, talk of diseases, talk of falling, Stockholm syndrome, affectionate caretaker, conditioned whumpee

After their bath, Villain rested.

It wasn’t exactly how Counselor had imagined the whole affair going. Villain had already spent so many days resting, laid up in that same bed, but once they were clean and settled into fresh clothes, they had requested nothing except to be able to return to sleep.

They supposed it wasn’t entirely unexpected. While the bath hadn’t exactly been physically exerting, there had been several instances during it that Villain had nearly burst out in tears. Whatever was going through their mind, it was undeniably intense-- and that wasn’t even mentioning the heavy dose of sedatives coursing through their system.

And, thus, Villain slept. They were unconscious almost immediately upon hitting the mattress.

This time, however, there was no nervous twitching to accompany their unconsciousness. Instead, for the first time, their face showed a perfectly placid expression.

Taking care not to wake the sleeping patient, Counselor draped a fleece blanket overtop of them, tucking its edges in around their shoulders. They twitched, but did not awake. A moment later, they buried their face in the fabric.

Counselor had never before imagined that Villain was even capable of existing in such a calm state. Yet, here they were, looking for all the world as though not even an earthquake could wake them up.

Their gaze flicked to the bedrails. Upon returning to their bed, Villain had not so much as seemed to note the leather-and-foam restraints hanging there.

Yet, Counselor could not draw their gaze away from them.

Villain had been staying in the base for weeks, phasing through various states of aggression and fear and sickness and, on rare occasions, hesitant happiness. But, even after all that time, no one truly knew anything about them.

At least, Counselor knew nothing about them. Based on the way Leader and Medic’s expressions twisted when the prisoner was mentioned, it was clear that the both of them knew more than they were letting on-- but neither was keen to admit as to such.

Maybe Hero had had more luck on this information gathering mission.

But how much information was there really to gather? Officially, Villain had simply appeared on stage a few months ago, alongside two unknowns. More or less, they had acted just as any other villain did.

The other villains, however, had motives. Backstories. They were following orders.

Villain... If anyone on the outside cared about them, they had yet to risk any sort of jailbreak.

There was more to this than the official story, Counselor knew that full well. How much more... as to that, they had no idea.

But they had no need to rely on second hand accounts and official reports to know what Villain was. That much was obvious. They were a villain. Whatever their backstory, whatever their past, they were dangerous.

Right?

Counselor’s gaze drifted back to those restraints. Those simple straps, dangling from a metal bedframe.

At some point, Villain may have been dangerous. But not right now. Right now, they needed help, and that was exactly what Counselor was going to give them.

And, if they wanted that plan to go anywhere, they would have to start with the doctor who harmed their own patient.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

This time, when Medic answered the knocking on their door, their glasses were on the right way around. They blinked a few times, rubbing their eyes, hardly noting as the piping hot cup of coffee was pushed into their hands.

The doctor glanced down at the beverage before looking back up to meet their visitor’s gaze.

“I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

“Well, that was before. For now, we need to talk.”

“If this is decaf again, I swear I’m going to strangle you.”

“It’s not. Though the same threat applies to you if you try to go back to the med bay.”

“I’m a doctor. In fact, I’m our only doctor.”

“I’m a doctor, too.”

“Psychology doesn’t count.”

“Fair enough.”

“If we’re done threatening each other, then, would you care to, I don’t know, tell me why you’re bothering me?”

“As I said, we need to talk.”

“Do I even need to ask what about?”

“I think you already know that. Come on. You have your coffee, so there’s no excuses.”

“You really think I’m going to be that penitent about this?”

“Maybe.”

Medic rolled their eyes, but did not protest any further as Counselor turned and walked off. The two moved to a rather isolated table, tucked away in the corner of a hallway. The cafeteria was far too crowded at the moment to host such a discussion.

On opposite sides of the table, the opposites sat. Two cups of coffee clinked down on the wooden surface.

Counselor took a sip of their drink, placing the cup back down and raising their gaze. Medic frowned, lips turning downwards even further than usual.

“What, are we planning on talking through telepathy or- Come on, Counselor, stop looking at me like that. I hate that.”

“Then are you going to say anything?”

“I can’t read your mind.”

“You said you knew what this was about.”

“Maybe.” Medic shrugged dismissively. The doctor had been horribly standoffish, ever since Villain had been captured. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to start trying to guess your thoughts.”

Counselor took another sip.

“Fine, then. I can start.” Sip. Clink. “Villain told me something very interesting, earlier.”

“You really believe them?”

“I haven’t even said it yet.”

“Then stop wasting time, maybe.”

“Villain says that you’re making them sick.”

Medic’s brows furrowed.

“That’s what they said?”

“Pretty much verbatim, yes.”

“Well.” Medic took a hesitant drink of their coffee. “I don’t know why you’re even wasting your time on a notion like that. What they are is paranoid. I don’t doubt that they think I’m making them sick. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“You’re saying that your patient is lying.”

“Maybe not lying. That would imply that they know what they’re saying is not true. They are sick, I will not deny that. And they are not responding to treatment. I can’t say that anything I’ve tried so far has made it any better, but it certainly hasn’t made it worse.”

“Why would they believe such a thing without reason?”

Medic exhaled.

“Because, in Villain’s mind, they do have reason. They have a child’s understanding of medicine. They are sick, and they are under my care and taking my medicines, and thus, in their mind, one of these things has caused the other.”

Counselor cast their gaze downwards, focusing on the way their milk danced its way through the black beverage before them. It was a reasonable explanation. Maybe. They may not have trusted Medic, but they trusted Medic’s abilities as a doctor.

Could Villain really be wrong?

“If they’re wrong...” Counselor began again. “Then what is making them sick? Their incident with hypothermia was weeks ago, now. It can’t still be that?”

“I doubt the two are connected. If this was all a matter of post-hypothermic reactions, then we wouldn’t be seeing these kinds of symptoms.”

“What is it, then?”

Medic bit their bottom lip.

“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? They’ve been in your care for... well over a week, now.”

“You think I don’t know that? If you haven’t noticed, I’m the world’s leading expert on Enhanced biology. Not to mention, y’know, an experienced doctor for normal humans. Whatever this is, it’s not a normal sickness. I’ve done every test I can think of.”

“And... it’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Not as badly as you might be fearing. Their weakness is worsening, yes, as is their general mental state. But their vitals are fine. They’re not in serious danger of anything, so long as they don’t hurt themself.”

“You think they’d do that?”

“Given just how bad their confusion has been getting? I’m already putting preventative measures in place.”

“Oh.”

Medic raised a brow.

“You thought I restrained them for no reason? I’m not Leader. There are medical regulations about this sort of thing.”

“They’ve been hurting themself?”

“Not what you may be thinking of. But with how bad their weakness has grown, they can’t exactly stand up without aid, at the current moment. Forget walking. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have realized this.”

“They’ve fallen?”

“A few times, yes. If that is all, I was really just starting to enjoy my day off, so-”

“Wait.” Counselor shook their head. “People don’t get sick for no reason.”

“Congrats, you know a basic medical fact.”

“You know what I mean. You’re the smartest person I know. You must have, I don’t know, a theory? A hypothesis? Anything?”

Medic blinked, placing down their cup.

“I do. Though right now, I have no way of proving it.”

“What is it?”

“Villain has what we call... psionic powers. Powers that affect only a person’s brain, but not their physical body. It’s the rarest type of power, oftentimes because something you can’t see is often something you can’t detect. Thus, this group of powers is poorly understood, to say the least. But I’m sure you know what power fatigue looks like for other Enhanced.”

“Like when Hero broke their leg?” Counselor guessed.

“Yes. The simple act of overexerting ones powers, even without outside injury, can cause physical injuries like that to develop.”

“You think Villain’s having power fatigue?”

“It’s my best guess. It would check all the boxes. An undetectable illness affecting the brain, but nothing else. A never before seen condition.”

“But... is it something you can cure?”

“I can’t cure tiredness.” Medic shook their head. “That’s really not how it works. I can do my best to counteract the symptoms, but so long as the source is still there, I’d be fighting uphill.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I can remove the source.” The tiniest smirk crept onto the doctor’s countenance. “Power fatigue is caused not by using ones powers, but using them in a way that the body cannot handle. At least, as far as we can tell. If Villain can control their powers enough, their symptoms should go away.”

“You really think so?”

“I hesitate to guarantee anything. Not with how poorly understood the condition is.” That smirk fell, replaced by Medic’s resting expression of annoyance. “But training them to use their powers properly is the only way I can see them getting any better.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m also sure that I would really like to go back to my quarters. If you’re done bothering me?”

Counselor bit their tongue.

“Fine.”

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Counselor had momentarily considered returning to their own quarters, but had quickly decided against it, instead turning to the kitchen. They had yet to eat that morning, as had Villain. They figured that a warm meal might help them shake off the sedatives.

And, maybe, some food would make Counselor’s own stomach stop twisting.

They only made it halfway to the kitchen, however, when in the hallway, they nearly slammed into Hero. The two both yelped, and a slosh of Counselor’s coffee slopped to the floor.

“Shit, sorry, are you okay?” Hero asked. There was considerable nerve in their voice.

Counselor nodded. “You just started me, ‘s all.” They glanced down at the spilling coffee now sitting on the tile floor. “I’ll, uh, get that later. I was just heading to the kitchen.”

“Oh. Um, could it wait?”

“I need to bring Villain something to eat.”

“Can it wait?”

“What-”

Counselor’s gaze drifted to Hero’s twitching hand.

“You have something?”

“Mhm. I don’t think it’s going to take very long.”

“Can I see?”

“Not here. Not with everyone else around.”

Counselor raised their brows quizzically, but nodded.

“To your quarters, then?”

“I guess that’s as good of a place as any.”

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As soon as Counselor was out of sight, Medic changed their trajectory.

The musty air that filled their lab acted on them like a drug, sending a calm shiver down their spine. If they had the day off (or if they were being forced to take it off), there was no way they were going to spend that precious little free time moping in their quarters. Not when they could be here.

They sat, the memory foam of their desk chair still molded to their form. The laptop before them booted up with a familiar chirp and bright pink screensaver, written upon in white text:

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.” 

The grainy selection of videos blinked before them, and they selected the next one in the series. Even if they didn’t have access to their Asset at the current moment, they could at the very least work ahead.

The screen fizzled to life in all its low-definition glory, displaying a familiar room, its walls plastered with protective black rubber, and its tile floor made of the same material.

The presenter wore a bandage on their face, covering the side of their jaw. The gauze warped as they smiled, but they seemed to make no note of it.

Beside them, the presenter’s own Asset stood. The muzzle around their face had been modified, its metal warped as to compress its wearer’s jaw, to the point that even breathing was an impossibility.

Extreme, perhaps, but based on the Asset’s behavior, it was warranted.

Though their movements were weak and unbalanced, they were persistent, not ceasing yanking against their leash for the slightest moment. This time, unlike before, the presenter seemed to be paying attention to them, though they did not seem worried.

“It has been some time since we last spoke.” They began. “I apologize for the delay, but, hopefully, it will not happen again. After all, training our Assets is a full time job.”

A smile. Cheerful, stretching their cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I must report that the recent delay we experienced was as a result of my own Asset lashing out. This was unfortunate, but it made me realize that there is a flaw in my training methods. A flaw I seek to instruct you, today, on how to remedy.

One advantage we trainers have is that we have 24/7 access to our Assets. As we take care of them, we can choose to meet their needs in whatever way we see fit.

Deprivation has always been a part of Asset training, since we pioneered our methods. But it was something I, unfortunately and unwisely, neglected. And I have done you all a disservice by not mentioning it to you.

In order for training to truly take effect, there must be room in an Asset’s mind for it to fit. A reason for them to follow. Fear, certainly, is this reason, but there are other aspects to control.

Following my Asset’s incident, we have been working using these methods of deprivation. Depriving your Asset of things such as nutrients, water, and sleep can significantly speed up and solidify your training. In this lesson, we will go over this, and how it can help you improve your training methods.”

The presenter’s smile was matched by their Asset’s wicked snarl. From the corners of their mouth, licks of flame emerged, just for the slightest moment.

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Hero handled the flash drive as though it were a bomb.

Perhaps it was, if the writing on the device was at all to be believed. Scrawled on in sharpie, a hastily written yet well received warning.

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.” 

As if Organization cared about the law.

Hero seated themself in their office chair, leaving Counselor to sit a few feet back, on their bed. They almost flinched, plugging the flashdrive into their laptop.

For a moment, the computer hummed, before it reported chipperly that new files had been added.

“Uh, Hero?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you get this thing?”

“Leader gave it to me.”

“Did they say what it was.”

Hero shook their head. “That’s what we’re about to find out.”

Still moving terribly nervously, Hero opened the folder that the computer had created for these ‘new files.’

“It’s... videos.”

“Videos?”

“A couple of them, yeah.”

“Should we... play them?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. I mean, if Organization is involved, I’m not sure I want to know what’s on them.”

“It could help Villain.”

Hero sighed, dipping their head.

“I hate when you’re right.”

With deft fingers, they selected the first video.

It had been so long, since any of them had seen Traitor. More than that, it had been so long since any of them had seen Traitor smile.

And yet, that was what they were doing. Grinning, ear to ear, eyes locked upon the camera.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the second edition of the Asset Training Video Course. If you are confused, the first edition of this series was, unfortunately, cut short due to... an incident. We will all miss our last presenter, but that does not mean that our duties can be shirked.”

Traitor turned, looking offscreen, calling:

“Veni huc.”

The language the words were in was clearly not English, but the person who moved on-screen did not seem concerned by that fact.

Villain smiled as well, though their warm gaze had an inquisitive quality to it as they regarded the camera. A chain-link collar was arranged about their neck, but it was attached to nothing, and seemed to more or less hang limply.

“For this series, I will be demonstrating all you need to know about Asset training. This, here, is my own Asset, Cadet. As you can tell, they are very well trained, if I do say so myself. They will be helping me show you how to train your own assigned Asset.”

Traitor’s hand reached for Villain, who did not flinch a moment. Their hand ruffled Villain’s hair affectionately.

Villain smiled, and leaned into the touch.