#me drawing these guys when i can actually semi draw duck after all these years... woah

[vv3spa]

fluffyduck has always been my otp

[babbushka]

A December To Remember

Lawyer!Kylo Ren x Reader 

4.1k, cw: Possessive behavior; name-calling; unwanted advances from another man; NSFW (Rivals/rival relationship/enemy lovers, PIV, fingering, semi-public sex/office sex)

Available on AO3

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When the elevator doors open, Kylo has to physically brace himself. He had heard the music blasting from seven floors away, his discomfort only growing bigger and bigger as the elevator ticked up up up to Gwen’s lobby. His hands clench into fists in his leather gloves, refusing to take them off.

He wasn’t going to be here long, he promises himself as a conga line of santa hats nearly steps on his Allen-Edmonds; he just needed to show his face, have a drink, and get out. The office is all geared up for Christmas, Kylo walks through the winter wonderland of flocked trees decorated in white and gold, garland wrapped around support poles, big faux presents arranged nicely. There’s a live band and although they played well, the music is a bit much, as are the people singing along. Kylo tunes it out to the best of his ability, on a mission, a hunt.

One thing he can at least appreciate, was that this was a cocktail party, which meant everyone was dressed up nicely. Kylo loves an excuse to bring out his expensive suits, Burberry sitting nicely on his broad shoulders. No one could say he didn’t try to be festive – he had put on a black tuxedo made of soft mohair wool, that happened to have a saucy lapel of black satin for some holiday flair.  

As he walks through the crowds of attorneys who Kylo has never seen laugh and smile so much in his career, someone hands him a peppermintini. It’s not long before he feels a tap on his shoulder, and he nearly spills the cocktail by whirling around, thinking that at last, he’s found you.

He has half a mind to smile, but whatever he had thought of saying goes out the window when he sees it is not you, but rather it’s his friend Gwen. She’s gorgeous in a silver slinky number that dips down her muscled back very low, and Kylo leans in to press his cheek against hers in greeting.

“Well well well, look who actually decided to show up.” Gwen nearly has to shout to be heard over the volume of the party.

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, takes a sip of the offending holiday cocktail – where the fuck could a guy get some whiskey around here?

“I was invited, wasn’t I?” Kylo replies, even though he’s not really looking at her. Gwen is probably the only person he knows who is as tall as him, and tonight she’s wearing heels which make her actually a few inches taller.

“Yes, but I’ve seen the stack of unopened invitations sitting on your desk.” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, drawing his attention back to her for the time being as she raises a platinum blonde brow, “Let’s not you and I pretend that you’re here because you want to enjoy the cheer of the holiday.”

The both of them exchange a little huff of laughter, because really she was right. Kylo is here because he had heard through the grapevine that you had RSVP’d, and there was nothing that could have prevented Kylo coming to see you if that were true.

“I’ve been informed that it is appropriate to make appearances now and again, even brief ones.” He sighs into his drink, nose crinkling at the sheer minty-ness of it.

“You can’t leave you just got here!” Gwen groans, “Stay for a little while, there’s some people who want to talk to you.”

“Whether or not I stay is contingent to one thing.” He shakes his head with a grimace, and at this Gwen’s sharp eyes sparkle with the light of knowing his secret.

“I last saw her over by the buffet.” Gwen sips her own cocktail, speaking lowly enough so that only he can hear, not like anyone is listening.

“I don’t know who you mean.” Kylo’s palms immediately begin to sweat inside his gloves, and he fixes the wall a hard stare to avoid that knowing look in her eye.

“Between you and me, I’m surprised she showed up just as much as I am that you did.” Gwen scoffs, and that at the very least was something Kylo understood.

As difficult as it was trying to pin Kylo down for something as unsavory as a Christmas party, you were notoriously hard to convince to come to anything for the holidays if you didn’t feel like it. It was one of the things that Kylo appreciated about you – not that Kylo liked you, or anything.

He shakes the thought away from his head.

“But you’re sure she’s here?” Kylo asks, an intensity to his question that has Gwen laughing.

“Yes – and do try not to make a scene.” She pats him on the back, before sauntering away to go entertain.

“What’s a Christmas party without a little scandal?” Kylo mutters to himself, trying to figure out which way the food was.

He recognizes people from six or seven different law firms as he tries to cut his way through the party. Gwen hadn’t been joking, about a dozen men in suits shake his hand and introduce themselves, congratulating him on winning his most recent case. Interns have stars in their eyes when he passes, and Kylo tries his best not to be such a grinch to their faces.

At this rate, he’s starting to get frustrated and irritated, he still hasn’t found you. The peppermintini was long finished, and he didn’t ask for a refill when he passed the bar. The entire outing was shaping up to be a waste, and Kylo is about ready to give up when he finally catches a whiff of your perfume.

“…That’s nice.” He hears your disinterested voice pipe up from a spot on the other end of the lobby where he has wandered, and Kylo lets himself be led to you, using his height to search for you in the jovial crowd.

Some schmuck is trying to herd you in the direction of where a big sprig of mistletoe has been tied under a doorframe, and the minute Kylo sees it happening, jealousy and rage simmer up straight up his spine.

“Isn’t it? I got the sonofabitch off a ten-year sentence. He was absolutely guilty but, that’s not my problem anymore.” A handsome pretty boy with perfectly straight teeth that are practically fluorescent from how white they are tries dazzling you.

“Uh huh.” You sound like you could not care less, and that for some reason only makes Kylo angrier – couldn’t this boy see that you weren’t interested?

Kylo tries to say his excuse me and his pardon mes, as he winds through the lobby on his mission to you. It’s difficult, because you won’t stay still for fucks sake, so every time Kylo thinks he’s just about gotten to you, you take a sharp turn to try and lose the boy’s unwanted attention.

“So anyway I was thinking to celebrate, maybe you can come back to mine after this shindig gets wrapped up.” He says, slipping an arm around your waist.

Kylo’s blood boils.

“Excuse me?” Your tone shifts dramatically, from uninterested to offended at his presumptions. Your body stiffens up at once, and that arm drops from your waist like he’s been electrocuted.

“I brought my own car and everything, we don’t even have to take the subway.” The boy tries to impress you, but you’re having none of it.

“I don’t think so, I have no intentions on going anywhere with you.” You shut his advances down, “Tonight, or any night.”

This angers the boy, which in turn makes Kylo see red, and he doesn’t even realize that he’s literally shoving himself in between happy couples and groups of cheerful friends to close that last bit of distance between you and him.

“Well then what the hell have you been doing this entire time, leading me on like this?” The boy reaches out to grasp harshly around your wrist when you try and make your leave, “Hey – !”

“She said no.” Kylo’s voice is dark and dangerous as he appears behind the boy, who drops your wrist at once.

“Kylo?” The sound of his name on your lips is enough to keep him from killing this boy in a blind rage, and his eyes flick to you in a very curt greeting.

“Listen to me -- and listen to me carefully.” Kylo looms over this lesser attorney, casting a shadow over the boy’s face from the sheer breadth of him, “I am going to close my eyes and count to three. If you are still here bothering this woman when I open them again, I will reach down your throat and rip your lungs out through your mouth and I will make it look like an accident. Understand?”

“Y-yes.” The boy stammers out, nearly chokes.

“Yes what?” Kylo sneers, jaw clenched.

“Yes sir!” He squeaks in terror -- Kylo doesn’t even have to close his eyes before the boy is scrambling away, and everyone around you is snickering at how he’s gone bright red in the face as he leaves the party entirely.

Now that that was taken care of, Kylo holds a hand out for you, which you take automatically. He would never admit to it, but the feeling of your palm against his has him calm almost at once.

“You have to stop doing that, you know.” You say, as Kylo leads you away from the crowded party of the lobby, and out towards the big balcony.

It’s cold outside, the past few days bringing a light dusting of snow, but you don’t seem to mind. You’ve got a fur stole wrapped around your shoulders to keep you warm. Even out here has been decorated to match the Christmas spirit, with twinkling lights covering every available surface.

“Oh but it’s so fun to watch them squirm.” He smiles, pulling you close to him as the two of you rest against the railing.

“No, not that,” You shake your head, “I mean rescuing me. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, but again, where would be the fun in that?” Kylo only winks, and you lightly smack his arm.

You’re about to say something, when you notice that dangling above both of your heads is a bit of mistletoe, tied together with a red velvet ribbon. It spins ever so gently in the slight breeze from being so high up, and you nudge Kylo’s hand on the railing with your own.

“Look.” You whisper, and Kylo looks up too.

“Now who put that there…?” He grins smooth as ever, as he ducks his head down and kisses you.

Kissing you was rapidly becoming one of Kylo’s favorite pastimes. It was too bad you were such a fucking pain in his side most of the time, if you weren’t so stubborn and difficult, he’s sure you’d spend a lot more time kissing each other.

But then again, you are stubborn and difficult, and you have no intention of stopping. Kylo hates that about you, hates how upset it makes him. No one gets under his skin the way you do, and so he pays you back by giving you the best kiss of your life – that’ll show you.

Your mouth parts for his, eyes closed. Your breaths come out in little sighs, and Kylo feels his body reacting to it. He hasn’t been able to get a good look at you all evening, but when he does, he loves what he sees. You’re wearing a dress in a color that perfectly compliments your skin, in a shape that fits your body exactly how you like it to.

His hands grasp at your hips a little too tightly, making you nip at his lower lip with a teasing smirk.

Christmas has never been something Kylo cared remotely about, but he’s big enough to admit that the lights really do wonders for making you look like a goddamned movie star. You both pull away enough just in case someone were to look out the window or come onto the balcony and see – neither of you could really have that, it was bad enough that there were bets about you through the different firms, the last thing you needed was to let any one side win.

“It’s criminal, how good you look.” Kylo tugs on the fabric of your neckline, “Someone ought to do something about it.”

“Hmm, like what?” You play along, your hand reaching down down down and grasping a hold of Kylo’s cock, ever so briefly, giving in a squeeze.

“Bend you over and fuck you hard, just the way you deserve.” He presses his mouth against your ear, he can practically hear your heartbeat picking up.

“Too bad you scared off poor Mike,” You say with a tsk of your tongue against the roof of your mouth, “I bet he would’ve loved to do the honors.”

Mike, that was the schmucks name? Kylo had almost forgotten entirely about him, about the way he had put his hands on you without your permission. He would make a couple calls, get the kid fired.

Or demoted, at the very least.

He wasn’t sure yet.

“You want to get me mad, is that it? And here we were having such a nice time.” Kylo looks around again, makes sure no one is seeing anything that’s happening out there on the balcony as he snakes a hand up up up your thigh.

“Maybe I like it when you’re mad, maybe I know you’re going to show me a real good time.” You smirk, and Kylo is reminded why he hates you so much, you’re so spoiled, getting whatever you want whenever you want it.

“Such a fucking brat.” He snaps, hand reaching for your and tugging you back through the doors with a, “Come with me.”

Kylo is faced with the party once again and is trying to find the best way to get the fuck out of there, when you pull him in a different direction.

“No – I know a spot, this way.” You bite back a pleased grin, and Kylo has to roll his eyes, letting you lead the way.

Deep deep deep in the bowels of the office, far away from the lobby and all the festivities, the music sounds a million miles away. You’ve tugged Kylo into a conference room with big glass walls and a glass door, like a little zoo enclosure. It’s nearly pitch black, none of the lights are turned on. The only illumination is from the city outside, the ambient glow of New York beginning their celebration of Christmas. The Rockefeller tree shines brightly a few blocks down the road, a perfect view from this conference room.

Fleetingly, Kylo has half a mind to ask you to go ice skating, but then you’re hopping up on the table and spreading your legs, the skirt of your dress hiked up around your hips. You’re not wearing any panties, a pair of thigh garters holding up your stockings – and Kylo’s mind goes blank.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asks, immediately pushing you farther up the table, wanting a better view of your pussy as your thighs rub together from being so exposed.

“Yes,” You admit licking your lips, “But you’ll warm me up, won’t you?”

Kylo groans, bites off his gloves with his teeth, wastes no time in trailing his fingertips through your folds. You squirm at the touch, wanting to be filled by him, any way you could get it. He dips them deeper between your legs, nothing but the sound of your breathing filling the quiet of the room.

“Slut, god what a fucking slut you are – look at you, pussy already wet for me.” Kylo grits out between his teeth, his cock filling out in his expensive trousers, straining against his briefs.

His fingers seek the wet heat of your cunt, and he pumps them in and out slowly while he tries undoing the buckle of his belt. Your hands help him, your legs falling open farther as his fingers bury themselves in your pussy. The stretch is beautiful, and you moan, leaning back until you’re resting on the table fully.

“Are you going to talk? Or are you going to fuck me?” You challenge from your spot on the table, your hands rubbing up and down your stomach, hips lifting so he can finger you a little faster.

“Both, I can do both, fuck you’re sexy.” He huffs, unbuttons his suit jacket, shucks down his trousers and briefs enough to pull his cock out and give it a good few strokes with the hand that’s not thrusting in and out of your cunt, blunt nails dragging against your walls.

“I know.” You’re full of yourself – full of Kylo – and you moan from the thought, “Hurry up, someone could catch us.”

“No they can’t, I locked the door. It’s just you and me sweetheart – thaaaat’s it.” Kylo replaces his fingers with his cock, your folds swallowing him down, oozing and dripping slick all over your thighs.

He shoves in roughly once he’s got the head in, pushes into you in one fluid motion that has your back arching. Kylo grabs at your legs, is careful of your heels as he pins your ankles together and tucks them against his shoulder, your body pressed together as he begins to thrust in earnest.

“Yes! Fucking finally,” Your palms smear sweat on the polished wood of the conference table, and before he knows it, you’re pulling one hand up to lightly smack at his arm. “You know I’ve been waiting here for you for two fucking hours, you asshole.”

Only you could give him such an icy glare while also pushing your tits up for him to play with. Kylo reaches out to pinch hard at one of your nipples, and you whine, your thighs trembling just a little from being held up like this.

Kylo’s big fat cock stuffs you full, your pussy even tighter from having your legs pressed together like this. Normally he likes to look down and watch his dick disappear into you, but he can barely see your face as it is in the dark of the room, so he doesn’t mind. Besides, he can feel you – can feel the way you throb and pulse around him, how you flutter and clench, and it’s enough.

“If I had known – damn you’re tight – you’d be here – fuck (Y/N) – I would’ve come earlier.” Kylo latches himself to your neck, bending you nearly in half as his hips speed up, his balls smacking against your ass as he pushes you up up up the table.

“I – ah Kylo be careful,” You warn him when one of your shoes falls right off your foot and lands on the wood with a thud. He rips the other one off and throws it to the floor, leaving your legs in nothing but the stockings and garters. Your hand tangles in his hair as you press him back down to your throat, where he sucks and bites at your skin. “I don’t know why you couldn’t just fucking call me back. We – oh yes, yes harder come on – we could’ve avoided all this bullshit.”

“You’re the one who hung up on me last time!” Kylo pulls himself more upright, scowling down at you as he grabs your face, gives your jaw a little shake.

“Oh!!” Your body tenses up unexpectedly, his cock accidentally slipping out and pushing back in wrong.

Kylo fumbles just a little bit in the dark, lets your legs fall as he tries to fix the angle, tries to get himself back inside your pussy as quickly as he can. It just feels wrong to not fuck you, it feels wrong to not be joined with you as completely as possible. Even when you’re scowling at him and he’s glowering right back at you – maybe especially then.

“Relax for me?” Kylo strokes your hip with his thumb, and your body gives way for him once again, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pushes back in and continues fucking you exactly like you like it, “There we go, anyway you wouldn’t have answered me.”

“Could’ve – faster Kylo, you could’ve left a voicemail.” You hiccup, and he hates that you’re right.

He hates it as your body opens up for him, takes him, takes the fucking. You’re such a fucking princess you make him do all the work with a big smug grin on your face before he shifts his hips just right in a way that’s got your eyes rolled back into your head, mouth dropped open. He grabs your jaw again and makes out with you, wants his tongue on yours, wants your teeth scraping against his.

“Sure – fuck you, ugh fuck, I’m – ” Kylo can barely get the words out, kissing you and fucking you in the dark and quiet like this, while everyone enjoys the party just beyond the locked door of the open floor plan of cubicles.

“Me too,” You nod, desperate for him, wanting to come so badly that you twine your fingers into his hair and tug sharply, voice breathy and high and panting as you demand, “Kylo more – !”

He gives it to you, plows his cock into you so hard that he pushes the table askew, makes the chairs on their rolling wheels move all over the place from the effort of it. He bites down hard onto your neck and rubs your clit, rolls it between his fingers while his cock forces itself as deep as it can go, shallow thrusts to fill you up all the way, pushing right up against your cervix, making you yelp out your orgasm.

Feeling your cunt throb and gush for him, Kylo comes soon after, pumping himself in and out mindlessly, the both of you reveling in your pleasure. With a weak shaking hand, you tug down the sleeves of the bodice of your dress, let it fall away from your breasts. Like a moth to flame, Kylo is drawn to your cleavage, and he wastes no time pulling one of your tits out of the pretty lacy bra you’ve got on.

He sucks and kisses at your flesh as his cock pulses and spills more come into you, the both of you trying to catch your breath. He spares a glance up to you, pleased to see you’re fucked out nicely, eyes closed, lips parted and drooling just a little onto your cheek as you’ve got your face turned to one side. Kylo lets his eyes close too, mouths at your nipple until he’s sure he’s emptied himself inside of your wanting cunt.

Then, when he pulls you to sit upright on the table, instead of helping you with your clothes or even cleaning up the mess between your thighs, he stays buried inside of you and fishes his phone out from the inside of his jacket pocket.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a nosy frown, trying to lean around his big hand and see what he’s pulling up on his phone.

Kylo just kisses you quiet, dials the phone and puts it up to his ear while it rings.

“Calling the car to come pick us up and take us back to my place,” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth, before cracking the joints in his neck and grumbling, “Unless you’d rather mingle with a hundred boring nobodies like Mike instead.”

You just scrub a hand down your face with a smile, try to start fixing your hair back to something less mussed.

“I’m starving, can we pick up takeout on the way?” You stretch, wincing when Kylo finally does pull out of you, the feeling of being empty making you grimace just a bit.

He chuckles and kisses you again, lets your arms slip around his neck without any protest.

“Whatever you want.” Kylo kisses your cheek, diverting his attention to the phone call once his driver picks up.

Though the holidays had you at one another’s throats like rabid vicious dogs most days, Kylo wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Because for all the bitching and bickering, there were moments like these. Moments in the dark where you both let yourselves have what it was that you wanted.

And who knew, maybe the new year would bring about a whole new set of opportunities and possibilities, you’d just have to wait and see. One thing was for sure though, Kylo thinks as he helps you off the table and you both search for some tissues or something to wipe up the mess you’ve made, it certainly was a December to remember.

[whereisten]

I Know What You Did Last Summer

Part 1 | Part 2 Preview | Part 2

Summary: After a fun-filled graduation night, your heart is torn between your two best friends, Ten and Lucas. A fire is ignited between the three of you that isn’t as easy to calm as it was to start. And this lustful fire, just like any fire, spreads and seeks to destroy anything in its path, for there is no telling what Ten will do for you, or rather, to you.

Pairing: King!Ten x female reader (as well as Prince! Lucas)

Genre: Royalty!AU, love triangle, angst, smut, fluff

Warnings: manipulation, possessiveness, blackmail, cheating!, character death, mention of blood, mention of self-harm, alcohol use, smut!: threesome, unprotected sex, penetration (v and a), oral sex (m and f), hand job, fingering, fondling, c*eampie, biting, bdsm (paddle use, choking, rope use), orgasm denial, overstimulation, semi-public sex.

Word Count: 20.9k

Taglist: @suhweo @5shotsamericano @alreadyblondenow @khiphoptrash-0 @adorejaehyn @08skrr @ateez-babygirl @cherriesaries @suhfluffy @starlightdustsposts @agnessvaltersen @krispysun @montersloth @galadrielbeth @cafe-lectura @Jiyoungiejae @labelleetoilex3 @ceruleanskies @neo-cult-ure @goldensky @verasloggia @jaewalking @hhaechann @commentgirl @uwusofties @toffee-reads-and-writes @generalkpopwhore @kawaiimusiccollection @ainigmatikos-posts @kkuljungwoo​ @kaiwatabe​

A/N: PART TWO is HERE!! Thank you all for your support for part 1!! We appreciate it so much! We hope you enjoy part two, the finale to this adventure. We are so excited, once again, for you guys to see what happens! We had so much fun writing this and would love your feedback💕

——————

[JANUARY 1896]

It’s the night of the Chinese festival. Kids run about the town as folks put up their decorations and line up delicious and colorful foods for all that walk by. The air is light, with everyone laughing and talking as they enjoy each other’s company.

Friends meet from all over the land, as all kingdoms come together to celebrate the turn of the new year. 

You’re dressed in a beautiful red dress with gold adornments, leaving Ten’s mouth agape once he opens the door of carriage to help you out. Seeing you in your bright and dazzling outfit under the lantern lights makes his heart flutter. Your gold eye shadow brings out the depth of color in your eyes, the ones that looked around nervously.

“You look amazing, my love.” Ten states as you take his hand and fall onto his chest lightly.

He gives you a light peck on the cheek, but you move away and let go of his hand soon after, hoping that you didn’t move too quickly while in front of the other attendees.

The last thing you wanted was for everyone to be able to see or even speculate that your marriage was in trouble.

You walk slightly ahead and force a smile to the onlookers.

“Hello, hello.” You say to everyone that bows while standing poised with both hands in front.

Ten also forces an awkward smile as he is left behind.

You look over the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of the tall man that neglected to speak to you for the last few months. Oh, how you missed him and his letters. You missed his warmth, for Ten’s coldness only grew to annoy you more and more as your time together increased.

You start to frown slowly, but in an instant, you see his bright smile. He holds Rosé’s hand and reaches for a lantern from a store owner. He hands the beautifully detailed lantern to her with the brightest smile on his face and wide eyes.

You heart begins to shatter. You wished you could have that moment with him, you wished you could be the one to kiss him when the fireworks went off later that night. Rosé was so lucky, she had no idea.

Ten quickly steps forward and takes your arm into his hand from behind, guiding you to the left and distracting you.

He knew you had spotted Lucas so he took you away as fast as he could.

“This way, honey.”

You and Ten enjoy some of the food provided by local chefs. It’s the finest food you’ve ever had, as they worked diligently to provide for you two, the highest royals in the land.

But you can’t focus on the flavors, you still think of Lucas’ face. Even with the loud drums and strings that play throughout your entertaining dinner set, you can only see his smile.

“What’s wrong? Are you displeased? Waiter! This food is no good! Can’t you see how upset my wife-?” Ten waves over the servant.

“Ten! No! It’s great, amazing actually.” You put your hand over his and turned to him, your eyes big as you try to stop him.

“It’s fine, calm down..please.” You whisper to him.

Ten frowns. “Then what’s wrong? You look like you’re unhappy. It’s not good for us or for the people.”

“It’s nothing..I was just lost in thought Ten, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, sweetheart..I love you.” He forced a smile and brought his fingers to your chin. A moment passes when you look into each other’s eyes.

His calm demeanor shifts at your hesitancy.

“Do—you love me?”

“Of course..” you turn your head away from him and look back at your food.

“Then say it.” He holds your chin again, this time placing his thumb on it to bring your attention back to him with a little more force. 

His eyes are dark, his tone is low as he speaks through gritted teeth.

“I—have to go to the ladies room.” You stand up instantly.

Ten exhales loudly. “Seulgi! Please escort our Queen to the nearest bathroom.”

Seulgi walks up to you and quickly places her hand around your arm to guide you, but you pull it away. 

“I don’t need..your assistance. I’m not a child.” You look from her and back to Ten, who knew what he was doing. He wanted her to watch you and make sure that you don’t find Lucas.

“You look a little ill, darling. She’ll go with you to make sure you don’t fall out. I know you and corsets don’t exactly get along.” Ten flashes a small smile when he sees your look of disbelief and nods towards Seulgi.

You turn to leave but Ten calls you again.

“Oh, and my love..”

You turn back to him. 

“Yes, Ten?”

“Hurry back before the fireworks.” he winks and takes a sip of his wine.

The two of you walk slowly to the bathroom as you think of a way to escape her. That’s when you see a dance going on between a group of teenagers. They hold hands and move in a tightly knit circle around a large dragon.

You take this as your opportunity to scurry away from Seulgi, ducking under the joined arms quickly and putting yourself by the large dragon in the center.

The immense dragon spins around quickly and moves up and down to the music and cheering.

“Your majesty!” You hear her call out, but you duck again and shimmy around the dancers.

When you look behind you, you see that she’s looking for you on the opposite side of the circle so you run underneath the linked arms again and away from her.

About five steps away, a store owner hands out decorated dragon masks, so you swiftly grab one and bow.

You place it onto your face by pulling the string  around your head. Luckily for you, the town is crowded with thousands of people so you’re able to slip away and into any corners without anyone really noticing you, the Queen.

You walk around, searching for Lucas while avoiding Ten, Seulgi, and the rest of the servants. It’s difficult to breathe behind your mask, but you’re not focused on that, you’re focused on finding him.

You eventually see what looks to be the back of Rosé’s head, but you don’t see her giant counterpart. So you step closer.

Suddenly, you’re snatched up by the arm and dragged into a dark alleyway.

Shit.

“Hey!” You yell as the large hand squeezes you.

You try to identify the man but he wears a mask similar to your own.

“How dare you hold me, the Queen, like this? Unhand me right now!” You have a fit as you believe that it’s one of Ten’s men that has dared to touch you.

“Shhh!!” The man pushes you into the wall and tears his mask off.

Your heart drops when you recognize the beautiful brown eyes that look into your own deeply.

You take your mask off slowly and stare at him for a moment. He bends down towards you, keeping you locked in between his strong arms with his hands placed flat against the wall.

“Lucas..where have you been? Why have you been ignoring me? Wait, how did you even know it was me?”

“Shhh..just kiss me.” He leans down and places his lips onto yours, drawing you into a kiss full of passion and longing.

His tongue traces over your bottom lip as you lean into him more.

You wrap your arms around his waist to pull him closer to you, your shoulders raising as your eyes shut.

His face leaves yours, steamy breath decorating your bottom lip as he looks into your eyes.

“Lucas..that’s not enough..you ignored me.” You lick your lips.

Lucas still stares at your lips. “What do you want me to do, y/n?”

“I want you to write letters to me..tell me..”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me..you love me” you look into his eyes as your heart races because of his close proximity.

“I could write a million letters proclaiming my love for you, y/n. But it wouldn’t matter. You still belong to him. We aren’t meant to be together, can’t you see?”

“I..I don’t care. I need you, no matter what happens, I’ll always need you.” You hold the side of his face as you whisper.

“Please..y/n. I love you, but we can’t do this anymore. One of us will get hurt.” Lucas pleads, but looks out to the side, carefully watching for anyone that walks by and peaks in. He looked worried, like he was contemplating spending any time with you.

And the truth is, he was worried especially after Hendery’s threatening visit. Hendery topped it off with a challenging duel to assert his devotion to the King, but as hard as Hendery fought, Lucas overpowered him. Nonetheless, Lucas wouldn’t tell you this as he wouldn’t want you to worry.

“It’s best that we stop this.” He exhales.

But you want him so badly. You want to feel him hold you in his arms again. You want that feeling of sunshine running through your veins as you make pure love.

“Fine. But first put my heart at ease, Lucas, don’t just ignore me. Look at me and tell me you don’t care, tell me you don’t love me and that you want this to end. Tell me that your heart does not tremble as mine does when I’m with you.”

He turns to you and looks into your eyes, his mouth falling open but no sound comes out.

He shakes his head slowly and closes his eyes while sighing. “You know I can’t do that.”

So you kiss him again. Your arms circling around his neck this time as you press your lips into his hard. Your teeth clash as the kiss becomes messier, your lips becoming red.

The two of you kissed as a feeling of frustration filled your bodies. You couldn’t be together honestly, yet you couldn’t be away from each other. Lucas tried to ignore you unsuccessfully. It tore him apart when he had to stop writing letters to you. He tried to distract himself by hunting and fulfilling his duties, and by being a good husband to Rosé and giving her happy nights. But at the end of it all, he always missed you.

Lucas stopped the kiss, pulling away to look into your eyes filled with tears.

“I missed you.” He says before giving you the softest smile.

You feel your face become hot. “I missed-“

“Has anyone seen the Queen?!” You hear a man shout.

“Put your mask back on.”

He states before putting his on.

“W-what?”

Lucas only takes your mask out of your hand and places it onto your face then tying it for you.

He takes your hand and leads you out of the alleyway. 

“Hold your head down.”

You both hurry past the crowds, working your way to wherever Lucas was taking you.

People gather to the river where they will get the best view of the firework celebration that is to happen soon.

But the two of you move in the opposite direction.

After about 10 minutes of brushing past hundreds of people and into an empty area outside of the market, you finally reach a gazebo.

It just the two of you there, everyone has gathered over a thousand feet away and towards the river where music is playing while people cheer and dance.

Lucas tears his mask off and sits down onto the bench in the gazebo. You take your mask off too as he holds your waist and brings you down onto his lap.

You resume your kiss, breathing heavily as your body moves back and forth onto his growing bulge.

He reaches under the many layers of your dress, laughing out as he struggles to find your thighs.

“I know..it’s a lot.” You laugh.

He smiles widely. “But it’s beautiful...you’re beautiful.” He looks into your eyes while pressing his fingers onto your slit.

You hiss at the contact, your hips instantly moving faster.

He fixes his pants down his legs as you lift yourself up slightly. His free cock now presses against the skin of your inner thigh. You wish you could see it or even touch it, but you had to move fast. Surely, Ten and his men would be combing through the crowds now looking for you or even Lucas.

“Fuck.” Lucas whispers through a staggered breath as you lower yourself onto him.

You kiss him hard as you grind down on him, his fingers gripping your legs hard, pressing into the soft skin.

He licks your neck and kisses it softly, careful not to leave any marks. He would tear your dress off and decorate every part of you with kisses if he had his way, but he knew it was impossible for tonight.

Just being close to you for this moment was enough. Red made you look gorgeous and the night lights and makeup you wore made you look like an angel that graced the earth.

You moved up and down faster, your mouth falling open as that familiar feeling started to return.

Lucas brought his hands onto your ass now, pushing himself deeper and deeper into you as you cried out.

“Shhh.” He tried to shush you as your moaning grew louder. No one was close by, and the commotion would’ve covered any noises the two of you made but he had to be sure.

He grunted into your ear, his teeth lightly grazing your neck as he also got closer, his pre-cum spilling into you.

He places two fingers onto your clit, rubbing it slowly. Your chest falls and you can’t hold back any longer.

“Yes..” you cry out, moving faster. Some of your hair falls out of your bun, you can’t form coherent sentences as Lucas dick commands your wet flower, pushing against your sweet spot repeatedly.

You begin to make out again, your lips covered in spit as your tongues dance.

“Lucas!” You moan loudly, but the sound of the fireworks booming through the night sky covers your noise.

Your eyes shut tightly.

He curses as he releases into your trembling body, holding you down onto his hips.

The fireworks still blow up and out into the sky while you relax.

Your heart rate normalizes and you pick yourself off of him. You sit beside him, legs weak and chest still heavy.

He fixes his pants and clears his throat.

“I love you, y/n. I love you so much. I would never abandon you.”

Lucas contemplated telling you about Ten’s demanding letter, but it wasn’t the right time.

“We must be careful, should we continue.”

You smile and kiss him once more. Nothing mattered in that moment. You just wanted to enjoy the fireworks with him, for you knew that the fireworks were meant to bring good luck to any couples that stood beside each other as they went off to bring in the new year.

Maybe you would receive a blessing. Maybe..the two of you could end up together.

After several minutes of enjoying each other’s company, you both decided to head back to your spouses, departing in opposite directions.

You made sure to wipe yourself clean in a restroom, then fix your lipstick and hair before heading out towards your carriage.

People started to disperse as the celebrations calm down after the fireworks. They made their way back to their own carriages, smiling and laughing, but you heard a commotion as you got closer to your grand carriage.

You flinched as you heard a screeching scream. You picked your dress up and walked faster, your smile fading from your face.

“What’s going on?” You asked a man in the crowd that circled around your carriage.

“Oh!...your majesty, excuse me.” The man stepped out fo your way as did several other men that stood in front. 

You heard the thunderous crack of a whip and another screech followed by a woman crying.

You looked closer and saw that someone kneeled on the ground, their back was naked and littered with red slash marks.

“Oh no..” you ran forward when you saw Ten watch as one of his men pulled his arm back to deliver yet another blow to the poor girl.

Your eyes widened when you saw who the person being attacked was.

Seulgi.

“Stop!” You threw your body over hers before the man could whip her once more.

“Halt!” Ten called to stop the man.

“And there she is..” Ten says softly, a smile creeping across his face as he watches you hold Seulgi, her blood staining your expensive dress.

You start to cry, looking into her cherry-red face wet with tears. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

“What are you apologizing for? She’s the one that’s incompetent and cannot complete a simple task for her king.” Ten raises an eyebrow. 

You become furious. He took his madness out on someone innocent and in front of many people. He humiliated and hurt her all because they could not find you.

You snap your head up to look at him through angry eyes. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

The crowd gasps and Ten’s eyes grow, but his face still displays an evil smile.

“How dare you talk to your king like that!” You hear his mother yell.

“You wretch! You should be punished!” She steps forward.

“Mother..calm down..shes our Queen after all. She’s allowed to express herself.” Ten speaks calmly.

He walks over to you and crouches down.

You hold Seulgi tight, covering her body as she sobs into her hands.

“It’s my fault, your majesty, I shouldn’t have abandoned you. I failed you, please, I must receive the lashings as punishment for my incompetence.” She says in between sniffles, her body shaking out of fear and immense pain from her burning wounds.

Your heart breaks at the sight, you’re the cause of all this. You were the one that abandoned her. “No..no, it’s not your fault, I was the one that slipped away, I was the one that lost you. I’m so sorry.” 

“Go away!” You yell out at the people that still crowd you and watch the drama unravel.

They quickly disperse into all directions and leave.

“And where exactly did you slip away to for all that time, y/n?” Ten turns to you.

“I got lost, there’s thousands of people here, Ten..but how could you do this?”

“And what about Lucas?”

You look up at him slowly, a moment resting between his question and your answer, but you are quickly interrupted by a soft voice.

“He was with me, your majesty.” Rosé walks quickly towards the three of you, Lucas following behind.

She lied to protect you, or rather, to protect Lucas.

Ten stands up straight and looks past Rosé and onto Lucas.

“That’s good to hear..it seems he understands the importance of being beside one’s spouse once the fireworks light up the sky on this special night.”

Ten smirks and turns back to you. “Get up, we have business to tend to back home.”

You obey his order as to not piss him off any more. You don’t dare spare a glance to Lucas but you can feel his eyes on you, how sorrowful they must look.

“Irene! Get her cleaned up and out of my sight!” Ten says before squeezing your arm and taking you to the carriage.

He helps you inside and sits beside you before the two of you endure a long and silent drive back home.

Once you get back home, Ten takes your arm and practically throws you inside. You quickly turn to him and close your fists tightly.

He pushes you into the wall, pressing his body into yours. “Do you take me for a fool? Huh?! After all this time, do you think I’m just some foolish schoolboy still?”

“I think you’re crazy! Wait, no, I KNOW you’re crazy!” 

He takes your jaw into his hand and brings his lips to yours, forcing a kiss onto them.

You slap him and watch as he backs away.

“You expect me to love you after that? You embarrassed an innocent woman, Ten! And on the night of the Chinese festival of all nights, how can I love you?! You keep me caged like some kind of animal! I can’t take it anymore!”

Ten rubs the spot you slapped him and grows furious, fire roaring through his veins.

“You were supposed to come back to me! We were supposed to kiss as we bring in the new year together!”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find my way back, but you have to understand, I didn’t do it on purpose. It was an accident.”

“I know what it is..” Ten exhales and walks around the foyer.

“I’ve been too lenient, I’ve been too giving. I am not a king, I am a weak fool that falls for the same person over and over. The person that never stops taking advantage. The person who I just can’t say no too.”

“Ten..” you shake your head.

“But I know what I’ll do..I’ll release you..I’ll let you go, like the caged bird you feel like you are. You will be free.” Ten swallows hard..he walks into the guest room and sits down. You follow him and watch as he pours himself a glass of scotch.

“You will no longer be Queen, you can leave me..”

Could Ten possibly be letting you go? Could you be with Lucas after all?

You sit down on the chair adjacent to his.

Ten gives you a moment to protest, but once you don’t, he begins to grow angry again. He thinks that you do in fact want to be free from him since you do not call him a fool for saying such outrageous things. He knew he’d never let you go, but seeing your eyes grow with hope made him irritated.

“You can be relinquished of all royal titles and live as a beggar, you’ll never see your family again, but that wouldn’t matter, right? Just as long as you have Lucas..”

Your eyes flicker up to him.

“Ten..”

“But poor Lucas and his family, they’d have to live and eventually, die in poverty..hmmm so sad.” Ten downs the liquid and slams the glass onto the table. He gives you a sarcastic smile.

“I...despise you, Ten.” You stand up and head for the door, but Ten rushes after you spinning you around before grabbing a fistful of your hair.

His lips smash into yours once more as his hand pulls your hair pin out, your hair falling loose.

You kiss him back, biting his lips on purpose but not pushing him away as you did before. 

He bites into your neck as he listens to you whine. Your hands scrape at his back, scratching him through his shirt as he groans.

He breaks the kiss off and tears away the fabric of your dress, revealing your breasts and exposing them to the cold air.

“Do you want to know what I was thinking when I watched her be punished?”

“What?” You say before he sucks your nipple as the two of you stand in the foyer, angrily embracing each other.

“How badly I want to punish you in ways you’ve never been punished before..”

Ten flips you around, pushing you into the wall so your back is against his chest.

He kisses you from behind, but quickly bites into your shoulder while grabbing your hair and pulling back roughly.

“And the way you spoke to me in front of all those people..that was the icing on the cake, sweetheart.” Ten’s gravelly voice enters your ear.

He unlaces your corset and slides down what’s left of your dress with one hand while his other hand holds both wrists tightly and over your head.

He then presses his fingers onto your clit, immediately rubbing circles into it as you cry out his name.

He bites harder into your shoulders, breaking the skin to draw blood.

“Fuck!” You moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

He fingers you as his cock presses against your ass, your head falls back, you close your eyes and focus on the way his fingers stretch you out so wonderfully.

Ten pinches your nipple with his other hand, but continues to suck hard onto you shoulder.

Your essence runs down your wavering legs. You can’t think or even speak straight.

“Yes..T-Ten..right..there.”

You’re so close, you clench around him but he takes his fingers out and spins you around to face him.

“Did you really think it would be that easy?”

He kneels and gives you a smirk as he looks up at your disappointed face.

Ten was never like this, he always made sure you came no matter what, but now he was denying you. 

You lock eyes as he sucks his fingers clean.

“You’re cruel.” You whimper.

He chuckles and runs a hand down your abdomen, adoring your soft skin and the way you fidget.

“Oh, you have no idea.I’ll show you crazy, my darling. Yes, tonight, I’ll drive you mad, just as mad as you’ve made me.”

He holds your legs by the crook of your knees and places them over his shoulders, his head now in between them and hot breath fanning over your soaking entrance.

He licks slowly as he watches you moan.

Your hand goes to the back of his head, and runs through his hair.

“Oh, my love. I would be a fool to let such a sweet thing go.” Ten whispers then licks in between your folds.

His kitten licks drive you crazy, you can’t help but grab onto his hair tighter.

“Please Ten..”

But he continues to go slow, watching you above him as you play with your nipple and mutter out curse words. He won’t push in further, but he allows the tip of his nose to tickle your bud.

He flattens his tongue, working his way past your folds as you shake.

You’re needy to the point of tears, but Ten doesn’t budge.

“Oh fuck.. let me cum please.” You whine again.

He finally dips his tongue in, swirling it around as he kisses your slit. You move your hips against his face, feeling the bridge of his nose press onto your bud.

“Yes..” your head falls back.

Ten applies pressure to that one spot he knows will make you go crazy, and just as you’re about to cum he pulls his face away from your pussy, kissing your thigh while your chest falls.

“You don’t deserve to cum.”

He yanks your arm and drags you upstairs to the bedroom.

“Do you..remember..the first night we fucked sweetheart?”

“How could I forget?” You breathlessly let out, your legs still weak from being close to your climax not once, but twice.

“The safe word..what was it?? Ah yes, gold.” Ten pushes you onto the bed.

“On your stomach, hands behind your back.” You turn over as he demands, your ass up and ready, but little do you know what Ten has planned for you.

Ten takes silk rope that was placed inside 

the nightstand and ties both of your wrists together.

You squeal as he tightens it so tight, you know that you won’t be able to shimmy out of it if you tried.

Ten holds the back of your neck as he leans down to whisper into your ear.

“Ass up at all times, if you falter, you’ll be like this all night.”

You nod. You’d do anything to cum at this point.

Ten then ties two silk ropes around your ankles, each rope leading to your wrists. You can no longer separate your legs from your arms. You’re open for him and restricted, unable to close your legs or move your arms. The ropes are right, you can feel the blood pressure increases, but a part of you likes it. 

The image of Ten over your bound body only makes you ache for a release even more. You want to feel him inside you, running his veiny cock against your walls.

Ten rubs his hand over your ass teasingly, just barely touching it to trace the roundness of it.

He pulls his pants down and pushes into you in one swift move, you can’t adjust in time and whine loudly at the sudden penetration.

Your body falls forward, but he grips your wrists and brings you back to him, grunting as he reaches your depths and runs his length along your soothing walls.

“Ahh!! Ten!”  You scream as he pushes into you again, ramming his dick into.

“Don’t be so surprised, sweetheart, I told you I would punish you. But you’re so fucking wet, I’m beginning to think you’re enjoying this.”

Ten pulls out slowly, groaning at the way you clench and twitch around his length.

Your feet and hands go numb, the tight rope digging into your skin to leave a mark.

“You look so pretty like this, all tied up for me. If i could have you like this all the time, I’d be overjoyed.”

Ten growls then slams into you once again, this time, letting your body fall onto the bed while you moan.

He pulls you by your hair and whispers into your ear, pinching your nipples so your eyes fly open.

“I hope it’s not too much for you.” He states in a mocking tone. 

He pushes your head forward into the bed again, drilling into your body as his skilled hips fail to miss a beat.

The sounds of skin against skin and your moans fill the air, making you feel weak. The tingly feeling in your stomach just begging to be eased.

“Ten..please..I’m almost-“ you say through staggered breaths.

“I’m gonna..”

“Do you want to end up like Seulgi? Don’t you dare cum without my approval.” He growls and moves even faster.

It’s hard to hold back, but you’re not exactly sure what Ten is capable of anymore. You follow his orders as tears run down your cheeks. You bite your lips and try not to cum as he coats your walls with his own essence and holds you fast against him.

He pants and lays his body on top of yours.

He pulls out, but replaces his dick with his fingers, pushing the cum that has leaked out back into you.

He looks at the side of your face as he fingers you, looking into your eyes before giving your cheeks a light peck. His hair has fallen into his face, his exposed shoulders shining in the dimly lit room with sweat. He’s incredibly gorgeous, even when he’s angry.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. A king never disappoints his obedient queen at the end of it all.”

Obedient being the key word.

“Ten..baby, please.” 

“Shhh...it’s too late to beg, stay here.”

Ten leaves the room, your body still on the bed, aching in your strenuous position.

He comes back in not too long after, however, retaking his position behind you.

“Ahhhh..my beautiful queen, how will I let the world...” he takes a breath before continuing, traces of sarcasm echoing in his tone. “And any other man..know that you are mine?”

You breathe heavily. 

Then feel a sharp slap to your butt. A wooden paddle sends you into the bed, your voice letting out a crackling cry at the unexpected hit.

“No..no..keep your body up, sweetheart.” He puts his arm under you and brings your body back to its original position.

He then smacks you again, but with less force.

“See? Here I go, going easy on you again.”

Another smack, you shut your eyes tightly and feel your slick run down your legs.

“Look at you..getting turned on by this.” He swings the paddle onto you again, but with as much force as he did the first time.

He grabs you by your hair before you can crash into the bed.

“Oh my god, Ten!” You cry out.

He slaps you again.

“There we go..now we are getting the reaction that we need..your skin is magnificent, especially in this bruised tone.”

You sob, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of saying the safe word.

He delivers another blow as you yelp.

He becomes hard again at the sight of your entrance dripping and ass irritated.

He moves behind you and places the paddle down. His fingernails dig into your hips as he drags your ass towards him, this time he pushes into your asshole slowly.

“Ten!”

He grunts then pushes into you all the way. “So tight. Just like the first night.”

He moves in and out at a steady pace, your breath leaving you with each thrust. You whimper and struggle against your restraints, but he feels amazing, you don’t want him to stop.

He leans forwards and pushes two fingers into your mouth, his hips increasing in speed.

“Ahhh..fuck.” Strings of cum enter you once again.

That night, Ten teased you endlessly, playing with your body like it was a toy for a spoiled child on Christmas. Keeping it in weird positions as he fucked into you over and over. Choking you while denying you of release, your makeup was smudged and messy as you cried from over-sensitivity. He took his frustrations out on you all night and you wondered how he was still so energetic.

And when he finally let you experience your long awaited orgasm, your hands loose and scratching at his back, your ankles over his shoulders as he pushes into you from above and kisses your lips like he needs them to survive. You came hard, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Shortly after, you fell asleep as he cleaned you up.

The next day, you couldn’t walk. Your bum, wrists and ankles were littered with painful bruises. Your neck and chest also had too many love bites for you to count. It was safe to say you’d be in the house for a while. No one could see you like this.

Your eyes squint as the sunlight burns through the thin curtains.

Ten walks into the room. “Good morning.”

He gives a small smile then scoops you off of the bed.

“W-where-?” You rub your eyes.

“Is a man not allowed to take his wife to the bath?” Ten looks onto you with furrowed brows.

He places you down into the bath filled with water and rose petals. Usually, your maids helped you bathe while Ten was out of the room, but here Ten was being the caring husband he should be.

“That was the hardest I’ve ever gone, darling. You are clearly fit to be my wife after all.” He says as he washes you down. He sits on the side of the tub and massages your body with warm water, and expensive soap he created far away in the mountains just for you.

You moan and bite your lips. His touch is soothing, his hands move over your breasts and your abdomen slowly, and soon, the apex of your legs.

“Ten-“ you draw in a sharp breath.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Join me..please.”

And so he joins you in the oversized, luxurious tub, making love to you once more as water splashes onto the floor, your legs around his waist, your hands running along his soft back. Ten moans as he feels your fingers delicately trace over the scratch marks you gave him last night.

“I’m so happy you’re mine.” He whispers as you drift into sleep again.

————

[MARCH 1896]

Ten holds your hand tightly as the two of you walk into a tea shop.

The store owner immediately bows to both of you. “Your majesty, welcome! Allow me to provide you with the finest tea in the land. I would’ve been more prepared had I known of your visit, I do apologize.”

“No need to apologize, thank you for welcoming us.” You cut in before Ten can make a snarky comment like he always did to people below him.

The two of you sat down to enjoy delicious tea from all over the world. Some spicy, some incredibly sweet, and some so refreshing, it felt like you were drinking liquid happiness.

“Which ones do you prefer, my love?” Ten turns to you as you wipe your mouth with a napkin.

“I like..the Wuyi Narcissus..” you breathlessly let out, suddenly becoming weak and dizzy. Your heart beats rapidly, almost like it’s threatening to burst through the cage it’s in.

Blood rushes to your head as you lean over, your vision blurring and hands releasing the tea cup you held.

A crash sounds as the fine china splatters all over the floor, a commotion follows.

“Y/n? Y/n! What have you done to her?!” Ten holds your body and shakes you lightly, but you’ve already passed out completely.

Later that day, you wake to find yourself laying on your shared bed. Your eyes flutter open to see a man with glasses and a small smile over you.

“I don’t care if no one has ever been sickened by his tea before, I want that man dead by sunset!” Ten yells outside of the room.

“What-what happened?” You ask the man that seems to have just taken your temperature.

“Sweetheart! You’re okay..” Ten rushes over beside you.

“I promise that man will not see another morning for hurting you like this.”

“Ten..what are you talking about?” You still feel very weak, your hands and feet are numb.

“Bring him in!” Ten yells outside of the room.

Two guards drag the tea shop owner inside your bed room and make him kneel at the foot of your bed by kicking the crook of his knees.

“Ahh! Your majesty, I did not poison you! I swear by it! I would never-“ the old man cries, his eyes are bruised, swollen and blood runs from the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up!” Ten slaps the man hard with the back of his hand, making him fall forward and cry louder.

“Ten!” You cry out and reach for him.

“Please..please don’t.” Youre voice is barely above a whisper as you still struggle to breathe normally.

“this bastard poisoned you!”

Ten walked back towards you.

“Actually, that may not be the case.. your majesty, now that you are awake, may I ask you a question?” The man with the glasses beside your bed cuts in.

“My name is Kun Qian, I am the royal family’s physician.”

“Hello, Doctor. Yes, you may ask me anything.”

“When was the last time you experienced menstruation?”

Your eyes widened at the doctor asking such a private question, but then you really thought about it. You hadn’t seen your period for some time.

“It-it’s been quite a while, doctor.” You look up at him and nod your head.

“As I suspected, based on your temperature and low blood pressure, it seems as though you are pregnant.” He gives you a smile and looks back at Ten. 

“A heir is on the way!”

Your mouth falls open as anguish covers your entire body. You weren’t ready to be a mother, you didn’t think you could even carry a baby. Hell, it was only the first few days or so and you had already fainted.

Your brows are knitted as you stare at the doctor, then look back at Ten.

He smiles from ear to ear, then leans down to pull you into a big hug.

“My love! We are going to have a baby!” He exclaims then pulls away to see your reaction. You still look dumbfounded, clearly not as excited as he is. 

Ten frowns slightly, then turns back to the men in the room.

“Leave us!” He yells and they quickly scurry out of the room.

He turns back to you. “Well, don’t look so thrilled, sweetheart.” A sarcastic smirk falling over his face now that the room is empty.

“I..I am excited..I’m just nervous.”

“Please don’t worry, my love..” he rubs a hand slowly on top of the blanket covering your belly.

“I will ensure that you receive the best care throughout this pregnancy and after. As well as our dear child. They will be the most spoiled baby on Earth. Do you trust me?”

The answer was no. Ten was aggressive sometimes and words were just words. You weren’t sure what he was capable of.

“Darling?”

“Y-yes..I do.” You nod, and give him a reassuring smile to ease his concern.

“I would like to rest now, Ten.”

Ten nods before kissing your hand and leaving the room. He felt like he was on cloud 9, he ran through the house like a child that was just gifted a dog to chase and play with.

You rested your head onto your pillow and stared at the ceiling, thinking all sorts of things.

The night of the Chinese Festival..it had to have been then.

But which man was the father of the baby growing in you?

Ten believed it was his, but you weren’t sure, for little did he know, you too had been unfaithful.

————

[MAY 1896]

You sit and have tea with Ten’s mother.

“How do you feel?” She asks, faking concern.

“Well..I’ve had better days.”

She sighs and takes a sip from her cup.

“I don’t understand what my son sees in you. You can barely handle a pregnancy, how can you handle a nation of needy people?”

“You’ve said that before. How do you expect me to react?”

“I don’t expect anything from a weak girl like you, I know I’d only be setting myself up for disappointment. You came into his life out of nowhere. Your family barely has a respectable lineage. He could’ve gone with someone like that gorgeous Yoona from the Im Estate. But instead...he’s fascinated with you. And why? I’ll never understand.” She shakes her head.

You place your tea cup down loudly and exhale. “Why do you hate me so much, mother?” You say with venom in your tone. You’ve just about had enough with her for she always treats you like you’re less than Ten. She practically threw her hatred in your face since the day you met her.

“Oh, is it that obvious?” She chuckles then takes another sip.

“Well, quite frankly, y/n..I knew you were a lustful wretch from the minute I met you by the look in your eyes..even at your young age, I knew you wanted to corrupt my son, my baby. I knew you were gonna enslave him with your body, taint him and make him forget all that he’d learned.” She spits out while leaning forward.

You stare blankly and look at the table, trying to calm your nerves.

“You’re a whore, y/n, and I just know you fucked that fool, Lucas. That mistake of a man that was birthed by a disgusting prostitute. She threw herself onto my husband in order to take his money. And you’ve done the same to my naive Ten because you are just like her..a whore.”

You chuckle and leaned forward as you remembered catching her son all those times, in the stables, in the library.

“The only whore in this house is your son! He’s just like his father, your cheating bastard of a husband. All he does is stick his penis into anything with a heartbeat! And yet the King ended up with you! A hateful and downright evil bitch! Bless him for being relieved of your presence finally in death!” You lash out.

The queen backhand smacks you so hard, you placed your hands flat onto the table to hold yourself up straight.

The queen gasps and shoots up from her chair. She huffs. “If you ever dare open your foul mouth and speak to me like that again, I’ll see to it that your tongue is removed and fed to the wolves! I can’t kill you, for your death would ruin my son, but I will hurt you, child. Do not..mess with me.”

Seulgi runs over and helps you up from the table after the queen leaves.

Your back aches in pain as you stand up from the dining room table. You press your hand into the small of it and wince. 

Your belly was so huge, you couldn’t even walk 10 steps without the need to stop and take a breath.

“I believe you should rest in your room, your majesty.” A maid helps you up the stairs and towards your bedroom. She was the one to always hold your hand and help you through any cramps you felt. You rarely saw Ten. He was always away for some trip or completing tasks in town, writing orders, or even hunting with other men.

You found it quite odd that he promised to give you the best treatment, but neglected to even check in with you on some days.

“Where..is my husband, Seulgi?” You move up the steps slowly.

“I-I am not sure, Miss, I believe he is out of town at the moment.”

You sigh. “Of course he is.”

“A letter came for you today, your majesty, I have placed it onto the desk in your study.” Seulgi changes the subject quickly, for she knows of Ten’s true whereabouts. She knows that he is actually in the very same castle that you’re in, only, he rests in a room far away on the other end of the large mansion, laying in bed with his favorite servant, Jade.

She knew that your pregnancy would be in danger if you ever discovered this.

“I would like to go there now, I will rest later.” You tell her. You put Seulgi in charge of collecting letters and hiding the ones that were  closed shut with a distinct label. She didn’t know who the letters were from, but even if she had her own assumptions, you knew you could trust her of all the maids to stay quiet.

“Yes, your majesty.” 

Once in the study alone, you open the letter from your beloved Lucas.

Your mouth widens into a smile as you read it and rub your irritated cheek.

Dear y/n,

I am delighted to know that you are doing well. Please continue to rest, eat, and sleep well. I wish I could be there to hold you and feel the subtle kicks of our child. I can imagine how cute it will be already, with your beautiful eyes and my dimples. The baby is so loved , it does not even know. We will provide it with everything that it needs and more. It will have the most caring parents known to man. Once the delivery is successful, I will pick you up and we will run away from this place together, raising our child in the sunniest place for the rest our lives. We will finally be together, my love. All three of us. I promise to see you soon.

                                       Yours Always,

                                                    Lucas

A tears drops onto the paper. Your heart swells with joy when you think of finally living your life with your true love, Lucas. Carrying a baby was painful, but knowing that he loved you and planned to take care of you made it easier.

You wouldn’t have to deal with your careless, self-centered husband, you could finally be happy.

You clutched the letter to your chest and brought it with you to your room, holding it tightly as you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

————

[One Day Later]

“Your majesty...” Jade rushes into Ten’s study.

“What are you doing?! You know we can’t meet here!” Ten quickly stands up and walks close to Jade. 

With shakey hands she lifts up a piece of paper to him.

“I am so sorry, your majesty, but I was cleaning the Queen’s quarters when I came across this letter. It was under one of the pillows on the bed!”

“Shhh..quiet down, you’ll wake her.”

Ten grabs the paper from her and looks into her eyes sternly. “And what gives you the right to read through our Queen’s personal documents, Jade?”

“I-I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but recognize the name at the bottom.”

Ten raises an eyebrow, but then proceeds to read through the note. 

His face grows angry, his grip on the paper tightens as his knuckles become white as snow.

‘Our son.’

The audacity of this man. Ten thinks to himself. 

“How dare he..” Ten scoffs, he begins to lose it slowly, he can’t even form coherent sentences or words to express how upset he is. So many thoughts run through his head. Had you and Lucas really fornicated that night when you disappeared at the festival? 

Lucas wouldn’t be a fool to call the baby his child if this wasn’t the truth, for this was the only time that you had slipped out of Ten’s sight.

How dare he. Ten thought Lucas would’ve stopped it all. He thought he would’ve been a decent friend and left you alone like he asked, but he disobeyed his order and still continued to keep in touch with you.

How dare you. Oh you...you lied to him. His sweetheart, the one he loved so dearly with all his heart. He gave you everything, the world, and anything else that you could possibly ask for. You took advantage of his kindness, you took him for a fool once again.

And the worst part is, he still loved you. You could stab him in the chest with a sword while daunting an ice cold expression, and he’d still adore you.

And the fact that the two of you planned to run away together made everything worse. The child that he was so excited to welcome and raise into the world with you, would be snatched away from him by his own best friend.

He doubted that even being murdered by you was worse than what he felt right now.

“What will you do?” Jade whispers.

Ten sighs, his eyes narrowing. He knew better than to lash out like some sort of maniac. So he decided to stay cool and calm, he was notorious for that. No matter how difficult a situation be for him, he always remained calm. He was feared by all for this very reason, his silence and unreadable smile made him nothing short scary.

“It seems..Lucas and I will need to have a talk.”

He hands her the paper. “Put this back where you found it, then wait for me in the room at the end of the hall.”

Jade nods quickly and takes the paper from him before turning around.

“And Jade...I have no patience today, if you’re not naked and on your knees in five minutes..I will have no choice but to punish you..again.”

“I understand, your majesty.”

————

[JUNE 1896]

Ten gives your cheek a light kiss as he leaves your side.

“I’ll be gone for a few days, sweetheart, try not to miss me too much.”

“You’re always gone, Ten. I stopped missing you a long time ago. Now, I’m just used to it.”

“Ahhh, darling, don’t be so harsh. You know how it is for the King.” Ten straightens his arms out as his servant cleans his uniform of lint.

“I have to be here, I have to be there..the kingdom needs me.”

“And what about me? I’m carrying your baby, some care would be nice, what if I need you?” You were irritated at Ten today and couldn’t control your emotions as the contractions kept you up all night.

“My baby?” Ten quickly caught himself. “Don’t you mean our baby?”

You roll your eyes and lay back down in the bed as Ten smirks.

“I’ll have Seulgi bring you some tea for the pain.” He says as he exits the bedroom.

————

[JULY 1896]

“You have another letter, your majesty.”

You quickly take the letter from Seulgi and wave her off. “Thank you, you are dismissed.”

It was the first letter that you received from him in about two weeks, so you were more than excited to read it.

Dear y/n,

I apologize for taking so long to follow up with you. I have successfully escaped the Park Estate. Do not be worried, my love, for I only ran away to get settled before the baby arrives. I have taken several trains to get to where I am right now. It is beautiful, perfect even. I cannot think of a more suiting place for our family to thrive. I look forward to taking you here and being with you all the time. I am far enough so that no one will recognize me. Please promise me one thing, if Princess Rosé sends for me, do not tell her or anyone else in the kingdom where I am or about the letters that I send you. You are the only one that knows of my location. My mother and brother do not know and likely will not be asked for me, but when you get here safely, I will, of course, inform them as well. I am beaming with excitement. I cannot wait to see you again.

                                      Yours eternally,

                                                      Lucas 

———————

[AUGUST 1896]

You’re resting in your chambers, a heat flash making you too dizzy to even comprehend what time it is. You wish you could see your mother and father, but Ten’s mother has kept them from entering the premises, claiming that they would only add stress for you.

Ten sent your parents away to a different district where they would be in charge of finances. You thought it was unnecessary for them to be hours away from you, but Ten deemed them the right and only fit for the job.

A servant enters the room and calls out to you.

“Your majesty..”

“Yes..” you say groggily, squinting as the sun flight hurts your eyes.

You rub your belly and wince. “What is it?”

“Princess Rosé has come to see you, she says it is urgent.” Seulgi states with a look of worry.

“Let her in, please.” you sit up straight, preparing yourself for what is about to ensue.

Rosé comes rushing into your room.

“Your majesty! I cannot find Lucas!”

You furrow your brows. “What?”

Rosé sobs. “No one has seen him in two months...I thought he was visiting another city, but it turns out he never showed up. Your majesty, what if something’s happened to him? I am so worried..I.”

“Shhh...please, sit on the bed. We will find him, I’m sure he’ll be back from whatever trip he has taken soon enough.”

It hurt you to lie to Rosé like this, but it’s what Lucas asked of you.

He made you promise not to tell anyone the truth.

“It’s just..he’s never done this before, he’s never left and not even written a letter to me..oh, your majesty, I miss him so much.” Rosé cries hard into her hands.

You lean forward and rub her back. “He’s okay, Rosé, perhaps he needed some time away.”

She looks up at you. “You’re right, I think I left him too often. What if he doubts my love for him? He’s been so sweet to me, what if I’ve broken his big heart?”

Your eyes tear up as you think of the man you and Rosé both knew. Lucas loved everyone so deeply, he was a tall glass of love ever flowing, brightening anything and anyone he came into contact with.

It was a pity that someone as nice as Rosé would have to be hurt by both your actions.

Ten struts into the room. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t find Lucas, I think something has happened to him, it’s been two months!” Rosé cries harder.

“Oh no..oh dear.” Ten steps closer before locking eyes with you, as if to ask if you knew anything about Lucas’ whereabouts.

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head as you pat Rosé’s back.

“Lucas, my dear friend. I’m sure he is hiking somewhere, going on some grand adventure like usually does. But do not worry, I will send out any and all of my men in search of him. We will speak to the countrymen and ask if they’ve seen him so we can trace his steps. We will search far and wide, even outside of the kingdom, Rosé. We will find him.”

“Oh, your majesty, I am forever in your debt.” Rosé stands up and bows to Ten.

But Ten watches your eyes, anxious to see how you react to his words. You wipe your eye of a tear and mouth “thank you.”

—————

[SEPTEMBER 1896]

“Doctor Qian...I might just rip this baby out myself..he dances like his father, and my belly is blessed to be the dance floor.” You wince as another contraction sets in.

The doctor lifts the stethoscope and his head from your stomach.

“Well, your majesty, I’m afraid you don’t have just one dancer in there.”

Your eyes grow large.“W-what?”

“There are, in fact, two heartbeats coming from your belly.” 

“Doctor..what are you saying?”

“It looks like you’re in a considerable amount of pain because you’re pregnant with twins.”

He gives you a big smile.

You gasp. “Oh..my God.”

Ten walks into the room, fixing his pants as he steps in.

You scan him up and down while he smooths his hair back and breathes heavily.

He never made it to your appointments on time..even if he was already in the very castle that they occurred in.

“I’m sorry I’m late, any news doctor?” He says as he walks to your side of the bed.

“Yes, I was just informing your wife of her pregnancy with twins, your majesty.”

“Twins?!” Ten gasps, he immediately smiles from ear to ear, new found hope flooding his head. Could you possibly be pregnant with his child also?

“Yes, that is why she is in so much pain.”

“Sweetheart, that’s amazing.” Ten bends down to give you a kiss, but you turn your head.

“Doctor, when is the delivery date?”

Ten’s smile falls and he stands ups straight before rolling his shoulders.

“Late October or Early November, your highness.” The doctor snaps his briefcase shut, turning to bid you and Ten a farewell.

When the room is empty, you turn to Ten.

“Where were you, Ten?”

“Doesn’t matter, darling. I’m here now.” Ten shimmies off his jacket and sits on the edge of the bed.

“It does matter, because while the doctor is informing me of my health and the health of our CHILD, you’re off doing God knows what!”

You grip the sheets to hold in your anger.

“I can smell that bitch on you!” Your voice raises.

Ten moved over to you quickly, grabbing you by the throat and squeezing it slightly. His eyes full of pure anger.

“You’ve got some nerve, woman! I’ve given you everything you ask for, yet you lay here on the most expensive bed in this continent and all I hear from you are complaints! Be grateful for once and I may just want to spend time with you!”

He releases his grip and stands up before smoothing his pants.

You stare at him in shock. You contemplate tearing him apart with words, but you calm yourself. You needed to rest and keep your heartbeat stable to ensure the safe delivery of your babies, the ones you would soon raise with Lucas.

Ten walks to the door.

“You should rest and make sure my children are healthy..”

He looks at you over his shoulder. “Because if they aren’t...I’ll have your head put on a stake.”

—

Later that week, you receive another letter from Lucas. He tells you once again that he is safe and doing well, and is longing to see you.

You reply with a letter.

My dearest Lucas,

The doctor has informed me that I am pregnant with twins! Oh, how excited I am for you to meet them. They will have your laugh, your smile, your warmth. I love you, I wish you were here to take care of me. Ten has been absent on most days, leaving me to endure this pregnancy alone, even on the most painful nights. I know that if you were here, you’d be beside me through it all. Nonetheless, I pray that you are prepared for the twins. I will do my best to ensure their safe arrival. I look forward to reuniting with you soon and running away from this dreadful place, you will relieve me of my ties to this insane man and bring me to a paradise filled with true unconditional love, and we will live happily forever. My love, I need you..more than ever. Please be safe.

                                        Yours Truly,

                                                  Y/n

After sending your letter off to a post office Lucas had given you the address of in another letter, you decide to walk about the castle for a while. The doctor advised you to take walks every now and then, but to not pressure yourself.

You head to the planetarium that Ten had built in just for you about a year ago. Back when Ten was caring and genuinely sweet, he did things for you just to see you smile. He knew you loved to look into the sky when you rested under the cherry blossom tree together, so he’d decided to get you a room where you could gaze together and hold hands just like you did in the old days.

You sit there and gaze at the stars, silently praying for a safe delivery that both you and your children would survive.

When you’ve spent an hour or so in the room, you finally get up and walk back to your room. You stop just after you pass by one of the rooms in the hallway. A loud groan escapes the door.

You lean in close and hear the whimpers of a woman as well. Your brows furrow. Surely, your servants wouldn’t be fooling around in your house.

You slowly turn the handle of the door and peak into the room.

Your heart drops at the sight and sound.

Ten makes love to Jade on the bed, thrusting his dick into her as her head falls over the edge of the bed and her legs spread further

apart. He sucks her neck and moans while a male servant enters him from behind, holding him by the waist as he pushes deep into your husband’s ass.

The man doesn’t see you as he throws his head back and looks to be on the brink of his climax.

A hand flies over your mouth, falling open.

You don’t make a sound, but Ten feels a gust of wind when the door opens up a little more.

He looks up at you, locking his dark, lustful eyes with your teary ones as you stand there in shock. Their bodies are naked, sweaty. Their moans and groans flood your ears.

But unlike the first time you caught him, he doesn’t stop. He pushes into her harder, still keeping eye contact with you.

He grabs her neck and begins to choke her, however, you just can’t seem to stop watching it all happen.

Her face begins to turn red, her eyes fly open and when she gets the upside down image of you in the doorway, she only chuckles.

Her voice gets louder as she cums. 

“Oh! Oh, yes! Your majesty! Yes!” Her body shaking on the bed. Ten cums soon after, choking her harder as he watches you and grunts. The man behind him slams into Ten one more time before releasing into him and gripping onto his waist with his fingernails.

The audacity of them all. You clenched your fists, then slammed the door shut.

You wiped your tears with one hand and held your belly with the other. You tried not to cry too hard, for you didn’t want to stress yourself out, but Ten really ruined you. He didn’t care for you or love you, he only lusted after you. He only wanted to possess you.

That night, you kept yourself from crying by re-reading Lucas’ letters and dreaming of your wonderful life with him.

Ten had the nerve to bring breakfast to you the next morning.

You took the tray and threw it on the ground.

“Do you really think I’d eat something from you? You’re a revolting liar!”

“Oh? Revolting? Nice. Haven’t heard that one from you yet.” Ten sits on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah..well you really brought out my creativity after what you did yesterday.”

“What’s wrong? Are you jealous? You looked like you liked it..did it remind you of the first night?”

Ten taps the blanket with his fingers, slowly pushing them into the apex of your legs. “the night when Lucas and I played with your body? Ah, yes, we took turns entering and filling it up with our seed? It’s a shame he’s not here for us to do it again..”

His voice is laced with lust as he gazes at your swollen breasts.

“Don’t TOUCH me!” You move your leg and brush him off.

“So what? You’ll never let me touch you again? You’re my wife, darling..I have to touch you..kiss you..fuck you.” Ten gives a sadistic smile that you wish you could erase from your memory forever.

“You will NEVER put your dick in me again.”

“Then what good are you as my queen? We have to create a family..even after this pregnancy, there should be more, no? That’s what the people want, my love.”

“And if I leave you?” You say through gritted teeth.

Ten chuckles loudly. “Leave me? The king? I guess our children will be motherless, how sad. ‘Til death do us part,’ sweetheart, did you forget?”

“Why do you keep me around? You have people that give you what you need, because clearly, I am not enough..why do you hurt me?” Tears start to fill your eyes, making his apparition blurry.

“They’ll never be you..I love you..I need you, you’re mine and I’ll die before I let you go.” Ten runs his finger down your neck as he whispers.

“It feels amazing..having you here..to myself.”

“You’re pretty when you cry.” He wipes a tear.

“I hate you, Ten.”

Ten takes your hand and kisses it, laying it on the side of his face as he pouts.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

————

[NOVEMBER 1896]

You hold Ten’s hand tightly, letting out another blood-curdling scream. Your hips feel like they will shatter at any moment as you deliver your children.

But after several hours of grueling contractions and labor, you deliver two beautiful girls. Ten let you choose the names so you chose Yīngtáo for Cherry and Kāihuā for Blossom as Lucas had suggested in a letter to you once.

Ten rocks one twin in his arms as he tears up. You rock the other in your arms and smile at her.

“Oh, y/n..they’re beautiful.” Ten sobs.

You smile. “I know..”

Your nurses take the babies away and into their care room, where they are bathed and fed. The doctor also checks their vitals to ensure that they are healthy.

It’s just you and Ten in the room after it’s been cleaned up.

Ten lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms. You’re too tired to push yourself away from him, so you welcome his embrace by relaxing your body.

Your head rests on his chest, rising up and down slowly and steadily. 

“You did well, my love.” Ten says softly.

“Yeah..I guess I did, even after all the shit you put me through.”

Ten chuckles lightly then sighs. “That night of the Chinese festival..it was so long ago..and look at what has happened. We have been blessed with not one, but two healthy babies. How can we tell which is which?”

“Well, I’m sure it will be easier to differentiate between the two as they get older..”

“No, my love. How can we tell which child is mine..and which child is his?” Ten says slowly.

Your eyes open as you sit up straight and look at Ten.

“His? What are you talking about?”

Ten runs his fingers down your back and the look on his face makes your skin crawl, his eyes low as he daunts a proud smirk.

“I know about everything, my love. I know what you did last summer. I know that you had sex with Lucas several times...even on that same night that I lost you.”

Your mouth falls open, but Ten doesn’t give you a chance to speak, his hand still running up and down your back.

“And..I want you to know...I forgive you...whether or not they’re mine..I forgive you.” He kisses your cheek.

“I will raise them as my own, for you have just made me the happiest man on Earth.” He whispers into your ear.

“Ten..” your eyes still wide after the shock. Ten knew that you and Lucas were engaging in and affair, and he didn’t tell you until now. How was it that he was so calm? Why did he keep you alive after learning of your whereabouts that night? 

“Everything is all right now. I love you, my darling. I love our children.” Ten nuzzles himself onto your neck and pulls you closer to him as he drifts off into sleep quietly.

Your eyes fill with tears, but you quickly wipe them away and remind yourself of the last letter Lucas sent you. 

He said to meet him at the cherry tree next week at a specific time. That is when he will come to your rescue and take you and your kids away. You smile and close your eyes, dreaming once again of your love.

————

[One Week Later]

It is after midnight when you creep out of your chambers. Ten had once again disappeared but you didn’t care where he was. In fact, you are beyond thankful for his neglect tonight of all nights. This evening you and your babies would run away with Lucas.

The palace was basically dead. The servants were working downstairs on the first floor. Normally, you and Ten had the top floor to yourselves for the evening. If you ever needed to call for a servant, there was a bell that could be rung that could be heard across the residence. 

It was the last thing you needed. You didn’t pack much into your small bag. You removed your sleepwear and put on a pair of pants and a loose-fitting shirt. You put a cloak over yourself and bundled your sleeping girls up in your arms. You prayed they stayed peacefully asleep. You ran away quickly, knowing it would be stupid to leave Ten a letter.

You run towards a servant’s exit to the gardens that were right outside of your bedroom. You knew that no one would cross paths with you up until this point. You let out a sigh of relief and looked down at the babies. They still slept peacefully. You smile down at them and exit through the gardens. 

You enter past the schoolyard you once frequented, amazed and saddened at the sour turn your friendship with Ten and Lucas had taken. You spot the cherry blossom tree in the distance and see a man leaning against the back of it, a baby stroller right beside him. Lucas was already waiting for you and your heart swelled with happiness. 

You say, “Lucas…”

As you get closer and closer, Lucas slowly turns over and you see…

Wait.

“Darling,” Ten starts with a wide smile on his face, “Fancy seeing you here of all places in the middle of the night. Quite careless of you to expose the girls to the elements so soon.”

You back away. What is he doing here? How did he know you were-

Ten clicks his tongue. “Were you expecting someone else?”

You are stunned to silence. You couldn’t think straight. Where was Lucas, you thought. Perhaps he was late. What if he was still on his way to the rendezvous point? And now that Ten was here, you wouldn’t be able to get away with Lucas. You hope Lucas is stealthy and he avoids detection. You could arrange another meeting time. Find another way to escape.  

You try to make up an excuse. “I-”

Ten raises his arms. “Your arms must ache from carrying both of the girls. Allow me,” he says as he takes Yīngtáo. 

He cradles her and continues, “What brings you here, y/n? You have one chance to answer honestly.” 

His nurturing smile at his daughter fades as he looks at you. “Don’t test me.”

You sigh as you cradle Kāihuā. “I’m leaving, Ten.”

Ten laughs. “You are? Are you walking on foot with my daughters to the next town?”

You sigh. “Enough, Ten. I’m leaving. With Lucas. You have kept him and I apart for too long. This,” you say, “Is not a true marriage. If you loved me at all, you would let me go.” 

He caresses your cheek. As quickly as you flinch, he removes his hand from you. “Oh, sweet, foolish y/n. How do you explain my presence in the cherry blossom tree? Exactly at midnight.”

“You must’ve followed me…” You start.

He smiles. “‘You will relieve me of my ties to this insane man and bring me to a paradise filled with true unconditional love, and we will live happily forever’.”

Your heart sinks as he reads the words you wrote to Lucas. Ten found one of your letters. Did that mean he got it before Lucas could receive it? But how, you wonder. 

He pouts. “Insane? Me? Is that how you really think of me?” 

You are tempted to snap at him but don’t want to alarm your babies. You take a deep breath and reply, “What would you call an unfaithful spouse who won’t let you go?”

He laughs. “You’re one to talk about infidelity.” He then coos as he looks at your daughter, “You are just as flawed as I am. That is why we are a perfect match, y/n.” 

You scoff. “We are not meant to be, Ten. I’m leaving with Lucas. No matter what you say. Have us banished from the kingdom. Tell everyone you banished me. I’m sure your mother will be thrilled.” 

Ten shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. That just won’t do. Where will you go?” He fakes concern in his voice. 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you say. 

Ten continues to mock. “Well, it will be hard for you to go alone. Especially since Lucas won’t be joining you.”

Your stomach churns. “What are you talking about?”

He beams. “He will remain in the kingdom. In the most permanent sense, sweetheart.”

You frown in confusion and fear. “Ten, what-”

He continues, reveling in what he will share with you. 

He recites, “‘Once the delivery is successful, I will pick you up and we will run away from this place together, raising our child in the sunniest place for the rest of our lives. We will finally be together, my love’.”

Ten also got a hold of Lucas’ letters to you. How long had he kept this hidden, you wondered. And your eyes widened at another realization. 

Ten says, “Ah, y/n...y/n...You underestimate me. I must admit that hurts me deeply. Did you really think this charade would go unpunished?”

“Ten…What did you do?” You ask shakily.

————

[Flashback - JUNE 1896]

Lucas brushes Hazel’s mane at the Park Estate’s stables. 

“Your Highness,” one of the servants calls to him.

He looks up at the servant and freezes up at the sight of Ten beside him. 

“His Royal Majesty Ten Lee seeks an audience with Your Highness,” the servant says.

Lucas nods stiffly. “Thank you. You are dismissed.”

The servant departs and Ten stands there, an unreadable smile on his face.

“It’s been a long time...brother,” Ten begins.

Lucas steps away from Hazel and approaches his half-brother. “Your Majesty, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Ten replies, “I’ve missed our friendship.”

Lucas scoffs. “Have you now?” 

Ten shakes his head. “Remember that I am your king, brother. I won’t tolerate you speaking down to me.” He nods his head over to his team of guards, which included the ever-hostile Hendery. Hendery flashes a condescending smile at Lucas. 

Lucas was still nursing the cut under his chin that Hendery gave him from the first time he visited. Lucas chose not to mention anything to arouse suspicion from the Parks. When they inquired, he said that it was from a sparring incident and they all left it at that. 

Ten continues, “Let’s go hunting.”

Lucas begrudgingly accepts and joins Ten and his men to go hunting in the nearby forest that Lucas was most familiar with. The two brothers take their bows and arrows to hunt for deer. It is a tense and quiet walk. 

When they finally see targets, Lucas eases up and is thankful for the distraction. 

Ten shoots at a deer in the distance but misses. The deer scurries off. He hisses. 

Lucas can’t help a chuckle. Hunting was never Ten’s strong suit.

Ten turns to Lucas. “Something funny, Lucas?”

Lucas shakes his head, smiling. “You’re still terrible with a bow and arrow.” 

Ten recalls the times he and Lucas went hunting when they were kids. He laughs. “I’m afraid so.” 

Lucas had his reservations about Ten. He resented him for marrying you, cheating on you, neglecting you during your time of need, and keeping you away from him. But deep down, he still had affection for his best friend. That connection didn’t just go away, especially since they were actually bonded by blood. And part of him ached for Ten because soon, you and Lucas would leave and never see him again, your friendship permanently severed. 

Lucas does his best to put on a good face. He and Ten regale about their adolescence and their shenanigans in the palace. Ten asks about Rosé and his time in the Park Estate. Lucas asks about the kingdom and how his reign is progressing. He even politely asks about you, acting like you two hadn’t spoken to each other since the festival. Ten replies that you are well and are expecting to deliver the baby sometime in October or November. Lucas pretends to not know this information.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty. A royal heir,” Lucas starts as he aims his arrow in search of a target. 

Ten only watches Lucas now. “Indeed, y/n has made me the happiest man. The baby is just the beginning for us, Lucas.”

Lucas evens out his expression so Ten doesn’t catch onto his irritation. However, Ten knew what he was doing. 

Ten continues as he readies his bow and arrow. “I think I’ve found my first kill for the day, brother...” He turns to Lucas, whose back is to him. Ten positions his arrow against the bow.

“Oh?” Lucas asks, oblivious, focused on finding deer. 

“Take a look,” Ten says quietly. He closes one eye shut and focuses his aim. 

As Lucas turns to face Ten, Ten releases the arrow, striking Lucas. 

Very near to the heart, as Ten anticipated. 

Lucas groans as he falls down to his knees. “What have you done?!” He quickly falls on his knees, blood seeping out of his wound. Lucas loses even more energy and falls to the ground, face first. 

Ten walks over to Lucas. Lucas slowly crawls away, attempting to evade his hunter. “You know, I had my doubts about today. Coming to see you, inviting you to the forest, and making you the prize of this hunt...But I can’t take any chances, Lucas. y/n belongs to me. It’s time for you to know that. Soon, she will see it, too.”

Lucas gasps heavily, “Help...me…”

Ten laughs. “Do you think anyone here is on your side, bastard?” 

Lucas feels faint. He is about to lose consciousness, knowing that he is very near to his end. He was torn between wishing to be saved and ending his suffering. But through all of this, he could only think of you and his child. Tears fell from his eyes. He had to fight until the end. He continues to crawl but he is fading with each passing moment. 

Ten barks, “Hendery, Doyoung, pick him up.” 

Ten’s guards appear. Lucas can only see their shoes. Hendery and Doyoung pick Lucas up off of the ground. Hendery quickly pushes Lucas against the nearest tree. Lucas loses his breath at the harsh contact. 

Hendery quickly pulls the arrow out of his chest and Lucas yells in agony. Hendery can’t help himself, pulling out a dagger and stabbing Lucas right in the heart, turning the dagger slowly and torturously. 

Ten shakes his head. “You were supposed to wait for my order, Hendery.”

Hendery pulled his dagger out of Lucas’s bloody chest. He lets go of Lucas’s body. It falls to the ground like a chopped down tree, heavy but lifeless.

Hendery backs away and bows to Ten. “My apologies, Your Majesty.” 

Ten nods. “Doyoung, prepare the crate. We’re going home, gentlemen.” 

————

[Present - November 1896]

The twins slept in the carriage now. 

“What did you do to him?” You whisper loudly, hot tears streaming down your face. You knew it in your gut that Ten got to Lucas. 

“What had to be done, dearest,” Ten says. 

“Where is he?” You ask, dreading his answer.

“Right underneath us,” Ten says as he looks down at the grass.

You slowly process his words. You look down to the ground and realize Lucas was buried right underneath the tree that started it all.

You stumble and fall to the ground. “No…”

Ten continues, “Lucas is dead, y/n.”

You shake your head. “Ten, you wouldn’t…”

He responds, “You were straying. I had to intervene.”

You refuse to listen. “You...are many things. You are not a killer.”

He finishes, “I would do anything for you, y/n.”

Images and memories of your true love flash into your mind. Lucas’s welcoming smile when he meets you the first time. The horseback riding. The first time you made love before Ten entered the room at the party. The days in Wanderlust. Your last night together at the festival.  You sob, trying to control your volume. “No, no, no. Please, God, no...Ten, what-”

“I did it for us, angel,” Ten says as he bends down and raises your chin to look at him, adoring your gorgeous face as you weep.

You pull away. “You killed him...Ten, that’s an act of treason. You can’t get away with this.”

“I can. And I will, y/n.” He gets you up off of the ground. “Come along now. The girls will soon need to get fed again.”

You pull yourself away from Ten. “Don’t touch me. I will never let you touch me again.”

Ten laughs. “You would be smart to obey me, y/n. Or I will take the twins away from you.”

Tears staining your face, you grasp the stroller handle and your knuckles turn white. You want to lunge for your monstrous husband but know that regardless of your status as queen, Ten always had the last word. You knew he could take the girls away from you. He was as good (well as evil) as his word. 

Ten leads you back to the palace. He offers to handle the stroller but you refuse to let go of your babies. They were your reason to continue living this never ending nightmare. It was up to you that they didn’t grow up to be like their “father”. 

————

[DECEMBER 1896]

You silently mourn the death of Lucas, cursing at the heavens for taking away the most heavenly creature from you. The Park Estate and the Kingdom of Hearts have continued their search parties across the continent for Lucas. Ten, unironically, was at the forefront. He made sure they looked everywhere. The last place they would look was where Lucas’s remains laid: the cherry blossom tree. 

The search teams were losing hope and Princess Rosé was inconsolable. Your heart ached for her as you knew the truth. So you did what you could and listened to her when she came to visit. You could not leave the palace under your concerned husband’s orders. You theorized that the pressure of becoming king overwhelmed him and he ran. That at the very least he was safe and starting a new life. You and Rosé knew that was a load of bullshit. Lucas would have at least sent a letter, apologizing. That was the kind of person he was. 

You continue to nurse the babies. You channel all of your energy in taking care of them, checking in with Doctor Kun daily. You drink the best herbal teas. Your diet is consistent. You couldn’t starve yourself. Even if every bite of food was no longer savory, you continued to eat. You had to sustain yourself for the sake of your children. Ten is thrilled that you have invested all of your time as a mother, as you should’ve from the start. 

If you allowed yourself to think about anything besides the well-being of your children, you knew your mind would wander to a dark place. 

You are reading a book on motherhood in the library one day while the babies are napping. Seulgi comes to you.

“Your Majesty, a letter has arrived for you,” she says.

You shoot Seulgi a look as you take the letter. “Did His Majesty get a hand on this?” 

Seulgi’s eyes widened at your hostility. “Your Majesty…”

You sigh. “I trusted in you, Seulgi...Ten got his hand on my personal letters. And I know he got to you.”

Seulgi panics. “I am so sorry, Your Majesty. I wanted to protect you but the king threatened the safety of my family.” Tears well up in her eyes. “If it were up to me, I would be fiercely loyal to you. Only you. But as long as the king reigns, I have no choice.”

You get up from your chair and put your hands on Seulgi’s forearms. “I know.”

Seulgi hiccups. “Your Majesty?”

You say, “I understand. You don’t have to worry. I know that you are a good person. You have always stood by me. You’ve taken a beating for me, for heaven’s sake. I still carry that with me to this day.”

Seulgi shakes her head. “I would do it again, Your Majesty. You have always been kind to me.” She had worked in the palace for over ten years, ever since she was a little girl. “Without you, the palace would be hell.”

You smile at Seulgi, “I appreciate that. And there’s no need to worry. The personal letters have ceased so if His Majesty inquires about the letters, you can hand them over…” You have given up on keeping secrets from Ten. He was right. You truly underestimated how vile he was. 

Seulgi shakes her head. “His Majesty has not seen this letter, Your Majesty...And it’s better that he does not.” She bows. 

You realize what she says and quickly dismiss her. You open the letter. 

Dear y/n,

I am so sorry to write to you as you are still nursing your children. I congratulate you and your husband for the safe delivery of your daughters. I implore you: if you know anything that the palace has not admitted to the public about Prince Lucas’ whereabouts, please tell me. I fear that something terrible has happened. He wouldn’t have run away. He was committed to staying with the princess. He wouldn’t have disappeared without sending us a letter after the fact at the very least. I await your response.

Many blessings,

Kahei

Lucas’ mother and the rest of his family were also kept in the dark. Ten forbade you from reaching out to them again. It was a part of his threat to take the girls away from you. And even if you dared send them a letter, you feared for their safety and yours. You wondered just how long Ten would keep the charade up. He could easily have Lucas’s remains moved and found anywhere he commanded. Why keep everyone in the dark about his status? He was a sick man. 

You complied with Ten’s orders but refused to lie in bed with him. You were thankful that the twins needed to be fed every few hours throughout the night, as well. Ten was displeased but he couldn’t deny you from protecting his daughters. For they were his daughters. Soon, they would be weaned and you two could get back on track, he thought. You needed time to forget Lucas and you would, he firmly believed. 

Ten continued his affairs throughout the palace. It was a game to him: a game of where can I sleep with the help without my wife knowing. But he got sloppy sometimes as his lust overtook him more times than he could count. You caught him several times without detection and simply resumed your day. Ten fucked Miss Oral in the kitchen at 4 AM? Okay. Ten had an orgy with nine other servants in the garden? Ambitious. Ten kept that little tart Jade on after so many months? You were disappointed but not shocked. 

It infuriated you but it wasn’t like you didn’t know the truth. 

And then, the next blow was delivered.

————

[2 Weeks Later]

You finish eating dinner alone in your chambers. The twins are being bathed by the servants. Ten is away on another useless search party. It was like a pageant for him. The public would say, “The honorable king is unrelenting when it comes to searching for his lost childhood friend.” A touching story. You resisted the urge to punch a wall. 

Seulgi hands you another letter. She bows and quickly leaves you to read in private. 

My dear daughter,

I pray this letter finds you well. I don’t know if you have been receiving my letters as you have not responded. In case they have disappeared due to the distance, I should tell you that His Majesty has transferred us to the Western continent and we only just caught wind of your delivery. How we wish to meet our grandchildren. How your father wished it more than anything. y/n, I am so sorry to say this but your father has passed from tuberculosis. I miss him so much and I wish more than anything for us to be together to mourn him. We have buried him the day I write this to you. Please, if you receive this letter, send for me. Or come to me, if you can. I miss you and love you, always. Many blessings to you and my beautiful granddaughters. 

Love,

Your Mother

You fall down to the floor and wail. Seulgi and Irene quickly run into the room, having been nearby cleaning the other rooms. 

“Your Majesty, what’s wrong?” Irene asks. 

Seulgi rubs your back. “Your Majesty…”

“My f-father,” you say between sobs, “H-he’s gone.” You shake yourself off of the two women. You shake your head as you look down at the two women.. “Did you two know?!”

Irene shakes her head. And so does Seulgi. 

“Seulgi...Did. You. Know?!” You demanded as you took the glass pitcher of water and threw it to the ground, the glass shattering all over the marble floor. You stand there, barefoot. 

“Your Majesty, don’t walk over the-” Irene starts. 

You don’t care. Nothing could hurt as much as the pain you feel inside. Not only did you lose the love of your life. Your freedom. Your happiness. You lost one of the only people in your corner who had been stripped from you because of the king and that crone’s orders. You walk over the glass, the shards piercing your feet. 

Seulgi runs over to you. “Your Majesty, stop. Irene, get the first aid kit immediately!” 

Irene runs off to get the kit. Seulgi tries to put her arms around you.

You shrug her off and say quietly, “My father was dying and you mean to tell me no one knew?” 

Seulgi shakes her head. “King Ten was always there when I collected your mail and I could never deliver their letters to you. That is the truth. Please, Your Majesty, you have to believe me.” She cries again. “If I had known...I would’ve told you. I-”

“Of course,” you stop her, “Of course, my beloved husband knew. That witch of a mother of his also knew...Those two will really stop at nothing to strip every person I love away from me.”

More servants rushed to your chambers.

You yell. “Leave! Get out! Run along and tell the king his queen is acting up if you haven’t already. In fact, I demand his presence. So go get him up from whatever bed he lies in and yank his dick off of whatever pussy it resides in.” 

A couple of servants run to get the king, astonished at your behavior.

Seulgi and Irene quickly disinfect and bandage your feet. “We will call Doctor Kun to tend to your wounds this evening,” Irene says.

Ten returns, his hair disheveled and bites apparent on his neck.

You look up at your husband, who stands at the door in shock at the sight of you.

“Husband! How nice to see you!” You said as you laid your bloody feet up on the bed.

Ten only looks at you in dismay. “What happened to your feet? Who is responsible for this? I will have them-”

“Oh, shut up,” you start, “I did it.”

Ten looks at you in shock. Your eyes looked so lifeless, so defeated. He almost didn’t recognize you. “Why?” He asks, pathetically.

You show him the letter. “I got this letter before anyone else could get to it. I wanted to see how my parents were doing. Since you and your mother have moved them away from me, I figured it was about time I got an update, no?”

Ten sees the letter in your hand and turns to Seulgi.

“Do not take this out on any of our servants. This is between you and me. Now, I’ve received news of my father’s passing. That’s interesting...Do you know why? Probably because I never got news of his sickness, much less that you transferred them to the fucking western continent.”

Ten pushes past the servants and his shoes crush the broken glass into tinier pieces. “y/n, I was going to tell you but I wanted to ensure your safe delivery first and-”

You raise your hand. “You took them away from me. My parents. And now my father’s dead. You just couldn’t be the only one fatherless, could you?!”

“y/n, I will not allow you to-”

You cut him off. “I’ve had enough of your games, husband. I have been so damn complacent. Meanwhile, you’ve probably fucked every maid in this room…”

The female servants, apart from Irene and Seulgi, couldn’t meet your eye, confirming your thoughts.

“Am I a joke to all of you?” You ask everyone in the room. “If it weren’t for me, you would all be rotting in the dungeon because of His Majesty’s intolerance for ONE miniscule mistake.” You grab the glass of water on your nightstand and break it. You hold one sharp piece of glass. 

Ten tries to calm you down. “y/n, I-”

You hold the piece of glass in your hand, quivering. “You will send for my mother and for my father’s casket. We will give them a proper burial in the kingdom. It is the least you can do, Your Majesty.” 

Ten relents, fearing you for the first time. You simply needed time to digest the news and he would give it to you. He would abide by your wishes and bring your family back to the kingdom. 

————

[JANUARY 1897]

Ten gave you the distance you needed. You didn’t give a damn where he was so long as he left you alone. Your mother arrived, along with your father’s casket. Your father was given a proper royal burial. Your friends of the family attended. Ten stood beside you and your mother. The crocodile tears were provided by Ten’s mother. 

You were able to see your mother more as she moved back into your childhood home. She helped you take care of the twins. 

The time apart from Ten gave you more time to think. 

Perhaps you weren’t as trapped as you thought. 

Your animosity faded for you still had appearances to maintain. Ten believed you to forgive him for his indiscretion with your father. Like there was nothing else to be forgiven. 

Ten continues lazing around with the servants but his favored servant remains to be Jade. Jade slowly gets it into her head that she can one day get rid of you and take your place. Ten never planned for that. You were number one in his heart. 

Ten and Jade lie together in a bedroom in the first floor west wing of the palace. 

“I love you, Your Majesty,” Jade whispers into his ear as she snuggles herself closer to him. 

Ten only grunts, imagining you to say those words again. How he longed to hear your words of affection directed towards him again.

Suddenly, his heart and abdomen grow bigger. “J-Jade, I...I feel ill. Hand me a glass of water,” he starts. 

Jade gives him a glass of water and he downs it. The pain he feels only worsens. It felt like he was being eaten from the inside out. All over his body. He starts roaming his hands all over his naked body, trying to feel for what is gnawing at him. 

“Ahhh,” Ten yells out in pain. “Jade, there is something wrong with me.”

“Your Majesty!” Jade yells as she gets out of bed. “I will call the doctor.”

Jade runs out the door. Ten lies in bed, his body burning from the gnawing sensation he feels inside. What was wrong with him, he thought. An hour or so passes and Jade still has not returned.

“Jade!” Ten calls out. “Anyone!” His voice has fallen weak. He cannot move because the pain is too agonizing. 

The door opens and you enter. “Why, hello Ten.”

You look absolutely radiant. Better than you have looked in months. You are beaming with a joy he had never seen you have. You wore a green ball gown, like you were ready to tend to visiting royals. You hadn’t dressed up this nicely since you conceived the twins. 

“I ran into that little tramp of yours and she told me you were ill so I thought I would come tend to my poor, poor husband…” You coo, mimicking the way he patronized you for so long. 

“Darling! Please help me, I am in pain. Get the doctor,” he grunts out word for word. 

You sigh. “Now why would I do that?” 

He looks at you with wide eyes. “Wh-”

You sit on the bed beside him, increasing his discomfort at the sudden movement of the bed. “Now if only Jade was around...She would’ve called the doctor for you. She would do nothing short of murder for you if you wished it. But...Jade is indisposed. In the most permanent sense, sweetheart.”

“y/n-” Ten starts.

“You two enjoyed rolling around in the hay so much...So I thought it fitting that she’d die the way she would enjoy most.”

Ten looks up at you in horror as you ruffle his hair.

You finish, “Consumed by the earth itself.” 

Ten cries out. “y/n, help...me...Please…”

You quickly get off of the bed. “It hurts a lot, doesn’t it?” You ask. 

Ten is furious but his pain overpowers any emotion. He only cries. He doesn’t have the words. 

“Are you familiar with the Gu poison?” You ask, softly. 

Ten’s eyes widen at the word “poison”.

You continue. “It is incredible how it’s created. You see, venomous snakes, scorpions, and centipedes are collected into a jar. They have to fight each other for survival and ultimately devour each other. The last creature standing holds a concentrated toxin. The toxin has no taste so someone can easily slip it into your supper and you would never know it was laced with poison. It takes up to ten days for it to act. And look now, on our dear old friend Lucas’ birthday, the poison has taken effect. It was meant to be this day.” 

“You bitch-” Ten spurts out.

You check your nails and shut the curtains. “Do you really want our last moments together to be so full of hatred?”

You tie one of his silk ties around his mouth. He thrashes about but you overpower him. You take the other silk ties and tie them around his arms. 

“You must want to know what it feels like to be tied up, don’t you? You certainly loved doing it to me,” you continue.

Ten continues to writhe in pain. He feels himself slowly fading. It was torture. He would much rather get stabbed in the heart. Any death must have been better than this feeling: he felt like he was being eaten alive. Tiny little creatures were gnawing at him from the inside. He wanted to rip his flesh open and take the critters out.

You sigh. “My father’s death was the final straw, Ten. I wanted to kill you the moment you told me Lucas was six feet under the cherry blossom tree but you had me under your thumb. I’m not going to take it anymore, dearest.”

Ten cries. “y/n, please...I will do anything...Please save me…”

You say, “You promised a lot of things to me. But you failed me. Time and time again. Fucking anything that moved. And I can’t take this anymore. I was ready to leave. You could have let me go and still laid with any woman you wanted. But no...You wanted to possess me...like some doll. And you killed Lucas, the true love of my life. You and your mother have pulled the strings of our lives for too long. This is the end.”

Ten manages to say, “y/n-“

“I have had it, Ten,” you say. “I know where the antidote is but I’m afraid it is impossible for me to get it now.”

Ten cries. “No…”

You sigh. “It’s buried with that harlot. Such a pity. She really left you in the lurch, didn’t she?”

That was how you planned to spin it. Jade, the jealous servant, who wanted to take your place, threw herself into a jealous rage and poisoned the king. You had her confession letter prepared very nicely. You wondered if you hired the same scribe who Ten hired to imitate Lucas’ handwriting. Either way, that scribe kept their mouth shut when they saw the fire in your eyes. 

Ten cries loudly but his screams are muffled by the silk tie. 

“Now, I would be with you during your final breaths but that wouldn’t look good for me, would it? You certainly wouldn’t want me to take the fall for a crime that the commendable Jade committed?”

Tears stream down your face now as you finally release your suppressed emotions. “You brought this on yourself, husband. All of this. You’ve brought me to this point with each betrayal. Now accept the consequences.” You walk out of the room, not a servant in sight. 

Ten lies in bed and thrashes around, his eyes red and teary with angry veins as he screams loudly. Unfortunately, no one hears him because his rendezvous points with his multitude of lovers were always away from the majority of servants.

All he felt was agony. Surely, any death would’ve been better than this. His heartbeat dwindled and his last thought before he succumbed to his death was of you being taken by him the very first time at the graduation party.

————

[Three Days Later]

The Kingdom of Hearts was once again in mourning. The people mourn the death of King Ten. He was a strong presence, just like his father. The young King was destined to expand the kingdom and its wealth, but his life was cut short due to poisoning. Found by you, his dead body was found in the west wing, tied up. You found a letter from one of your servants, confessing to the crime. She was in love with His Majesty. She quickly disappeared with the night. Now, there was a bounty for her head and her family was under watch in case she returned or made contact with them.

His Royal Majesty is survived by you, his wife, the Queen, and your twin daughters, Princesses Yīngtáo and Kāihuā.

The funeral procession was beautiful. People from all over the continent gathered to pay their respects for the fallen king. Flowers from all over the continent were tossed over his casket. He was laid to rest in the Royal Cemetery beside his father.

Ten’s mother was inconsolable. She lost her husband and her son. You were also inconsolable. You wept and wept. Nothing was holding you back from mourning who you've lost.

You lost a lot in a matter of months. You lost Lucas. You lost your father. Hell, you lost Ten a long time ago. Nearly everything you once treasured vanished in the blink of an eye. 

You could finally let it all out and it worked to your benefit. No one would dare suspect you of foul play. Not even former Queen Lee.

You had tea with her after the procession.

“y/n, you really loved my son,” she says between sniffles.

You sip your tea, feeling calmer now. It took her so long to realize that you weren’t the wretch she thought you to be. But maybe that was just her spiked tea speaking. She would probably return to hating you, tomorrow

Or would she?

You are the sole ruler of the kingdom now. Until you marry again. Then again, who said you had to marry again? There was no official law that mandated you to. 

The queen was complacent now because you were in charge. It was in her best interest to be on your good graces.

But after years of enduring her insults and for her hand in omitting to tell you about your father's illness, you were afraid that that was no longer an option.

“Mother,” you begin, “You should know that the little slag Jade was not responsible for your son’s death.”

Ten’s mother nearly drops her cup of tea as she shakily puts it down.

She openly glares at you now. “What are you saying, y/n?”

“Do you really think Jade was smart enough to get the poison to put into Ten’s supper? There is only one thing she excelled at and it was fucking your son. He loved to fuck her like the little whore he was.”

The queen got up from the table and was about to grab you. “You take that back, you little wretch.”

You refused to cower away from this crone. Her baby boy was no longer there to shield her now. You had the power. 

She is about to slap you but you grab her arm. She tries to wriggle out of your grasp. 

“I poisoned your son, Mother. I exterminated that beast before he hurt me again. He fucked all of the servants behind my back. He killed Lucas. He lied about my father.”

“You’re the damned beast,” she says as she spits in your face. She bawls. “My baby...What have you done?!”

You don’t flinch. You take a napkin and wipe away the spit from your face. “It is not in your benefit to defy me, Mother…”

“Shut up, you insolent wench,” the Queen removes herself from your grasp and attempts to lunge for you. You trip her to the ground.

You continue, “I have to wonder...how much you knew…”

Ten’s mother opens her mouth and closes it immediately. It is all in her eyes. 

“You hag,” you say, “I’ll take that as a confirmation of my suspicions.”

You place your foot over her back so she can’t get up. “Does the term Gu poison ring any bells?”

The queen’s eyes widen in shock as she looks up at you.

You add, “I believe you tried to poison Lucas’ mother that way once upon a time…”

“How did you know-“

“Surely, Ten brought you up to speed on my visits to Wanderlust. In fact, I’m sure you were the first person prepared to set the town ablaze so long as Kahei burned, didn’t you?”

“Don’t mention that whore’s name in my palace!” Ten’s mother pushed herself and yanked you by the leg so you stumble.

Seulgi runs in. “Your Majesty, are you alright?”

You regain your footing and you kick the woman’s legs away.

The former Queen barks at Seulgi. “You were outside this whole time, girl? The queen is at her wit’s end. Someone needs to detain her!”

Seulgi stands there, awaiting your orders.

Ten’s mom grabs Seulgi by the arm. “What are you doing, you worthless fool? This woman poisoned the king. She admitted it. Arrest her.”

Seulgi shakes herself off of her. “You must be hearing things, madam. It must be from your age.”

Ten’s mother was an irritable crone. One of her biggest triggers was any mention of her age. 

“Girl,” Ten’s mom begins again about to yank Seulgi by the hair. She quickly backs up.

Seulgi speaks up, “I’ve served this household since I was thirteen years old. You have never called me by my name. You have beaten my mother more times than I count. You have paid my family insufficiently. Your abuse and condescension made you an unfitting Queen. Your son was the spitting image of you in terms of how he treated the staff. The minute news came of his passing, I breathed a sigh of relief. Because Queen y/n is now in charge. She cares about her people and her servants. Unlike. You.”

Ten’s mother yells, “Insolent vermin, you are!”

Seulgi bows. “I will be outside the door if you need anything, Your Majesty.” She leaves you with the Queen.

Ten’s mother grew more livid. “You have turned the help against me, have you not?”

You shrug. “A little kindness goes a long way, Mother. It’s unfortunate neither you or your son have possessed it.”

Ten’s mother is about to lunge at you again when she clams up and clutches her chest. 

“y/n...my heart…” Ten’s mother falls over. You simply stand there.

After a few minutes, you tell Seulgi to alert the servants that the queen suddenly died of a heart attack. It was sudden and as you and Seulgi tried to get her up, it was too late.

————

[February 1897]

Ten and his parents were united in death. Now that they were out of the picture, it was time to announce the findings of Lucas’ remains. It just so happened that you found a letter in Ten’s study, confirming his instructions to bury Lucas under the cherry blossom tree.

It turned out the scribe you hired before had indeed worked with Ten. The scribe had also imitated Ten’s handwriting rather well.

Princess Rosé was beside you as the servants uncovered Lucas’ remains. 

Lucas’ body was decomposed a long time ago. But specialists confirmed that his body was severed into many pieces, like he was a piece of meat. 

You and Princess Rosé cried together. You felt some of your guilt leave your body. Now Rosé could move on, just as she rightfully deserved. 

You two had dinner and then walked around the palace grounds together.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, y/n,” she says as she sniffles.

You squeeze her hand as you walk together. “Thank you for everything, Rosé. You’ve been my rock throughout this whole process.”

It was true. Although you and Lucas had cheated, you never harbored any negative feelings toward Rosé. She didn’t know that you and Lucas were in love when he entered the arranged marriage with her. She was never malevolent. She trusted her husband and believed the best of him. She protected him at the festival when she knew he had run off God-knows-where. It was unfair to her. 

You wished you could keep your distance from her because you didn’t want to keep living a lie with her.

“I know you and Lucas met the night of the festival, y/n…” She admits as you walk through the rose garden.

You stop in your tracks. 

Rosé hasn’t let go of your hand, even after admitting this. “Originally, when he disappeared, I thought he’d run away to meet with you…”

You listen to her, afraid to say something that will anger her.

But Rosé, ethereal and gentle, looked at you, calm. There was sadness in her eyes. “I know he loved you.”

You cry, about to apologize like you wanted to for so long. “Rosé, I-“

She says solemnly, “I know…When I realized you never ran away to meet him, I realized that something was wrong. As much as you two hurt me, I...couldn’t stop loving Lucas. When we were together, he was so kind, y/n. He just pulls you in with those eyes and that smile. You know this more than anyone.”

You nod shyly. “I do.”

“I would’ve let you two run off. You would’ve had to evade my vengeful family for all of your days but at least, you would’ve been together.”

You weep, astonished at Rosé’s kindness. “You...I don’t deserve your kindness.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t. But you need it more than ever.”

You two hug and continue your walk. You make it to the weaponry room near the stables where you overhear some of the guards drinking.

“A toast to our fallen king,” a man begins. 

“To our fallen king,” the other men continue. 

“Now we are subject to the whims of His Majesty’s unhinged wife,” the first man continues.

The men matter and some laugh, making derogatory comments about you. How they would still bed you, regardless of how insane you were. 

You and Rosé eye each other in confusion and quietly move closer. The men sit at a table with a box of spirits. 

The first man you recognized as the head of the army, Hendery. “At least, the Queen cannot fuck that prince again. His Majesty saw to it.”

Your heart clenches as do your fists. 

The guards clink their bottles together. “Hear, hear.”

Hendery continues, “And I ended him with that final blow, didn’t I?”

The guards cheer. As you hear this news, you carefully scan the room. You recognize all of the guards. None of them appeared to be shocked at the news. You wondered how many of these men were present the day of Lucas’ murder.

Rosé scares you then. Her complacent nature had completely shattered. She grips the wood of the room tightly as her knuckles whitened.

You still didn’t have the full details of what happened the day Lucas died. But it seemed the Lord had smiled down at you and decided to give you the truth.

Hendery commands the room, only stumbling every now and then from how inebriated he was. “His Majesty shot him like any deer in that forest. Very near to the heart. His Majesty had improved greatly in his archery skills. He was able to put it to practice, at the very least.”

He continues as the men’s cheers become all muttered and incoherent from the alcohol.

“And then Doyoung and I picked up his body and pushed him against a tree. And I stabbed him really neatly in the heart. And now, no more Lucas.” He laughed.

Rosé pulls you away now. “y/n, he must be punished.”

You open your mouth in disbelief. “What?”

Rosé retorts, “I know you had a hand in Ten’s death. So why should this be any different?”

“What?” You ask her. How the hell did she figure it out?

“Lucky guess.” She shrugs. “Your reaction was the confirmation I needed.”

Sweet Rosé was not to be underestimated you thought. She could be as cold and calculating as the next person. 

“Come on,” she goaded, “You want to end his pathetic existence as much as I do.”

Of course you did. It was all you could think about the minute he admitted to fatally stabbing Lucas. 

You shake your head. “You can be better than me, Rosé. I can do this on my own.”

Rosé takes your hand and leads you to the stables. “Your hands already have enough blood on them. Let me take some of that burden.”

You protest more but Rosé won’t have it. The gears in her head were moving a mile a minute and you had no idea what she had in store for Hendery.

A few hours passed and the men slowly left the weapons room. Hendery, to your and Rosé’s luck, remained behind. 

A sad excuse of a human being, you thought. He was a bully in high school. Belittled the women around him. It blew your mind that he married and procreated. 

You would see to it that his family is taken care of when he is gone.

Princess Rosé awaited him. “Commander,” she began.

Hendery stumbles and upon seeing Princess Rosé, he gives her a lewd smile. “Your Highness, what are you doing here alone so late at night? It’s dangerous for a princess to be unattended.”

She plays him. “I’ve never felt so safe, having the commander of the royal army with me.”

Hendery slides his arm around her, groping her bottom. Rosé flinches and hides her distaste. 

Hendery replies, “Allow me to escort you back to the palace.”

Rosé shakes her head. “Actually, there is one place I wanted to go. With you.”

Hendery smiles wide, like he’d successfully gotten the biggest kill in a hunt 

Rosé leads him to the stables, where you wait in the shadows. 

You trip Hendery as he walks in. “Wha-“ He starts.

He groans in pain as you quickly tie rope tightly around his right leg. 

“What are you-who is that?” Hendery asks, dazed.

“It’s His Majesty’s unhinged wife, of course,” you say, echoing his words back at him.

Hendery sobers up as you bring a lamp close to your face. “Y-your Majesty?!”

Rosé takes the other end of the rope to an occupied stable, where Lucas’ horse Hazel resides for her visit. 

She greets Hazel quietly and Hazel nuzzles her, trusting her completely. It seemed Hazel had added Rosé into her circle of trust. Rosé ties the other end of the rope around Hazel’s left hind leg.

“Alright, girl,” she whispers, “We’re going to go for a ride.”

Hendery panics as he sobers up even more. “What are you doing?”

You swiftly bind him with rope so he can’t use his arms. “That’s for you to find out, commander.”

Hendery is about to speak up by you bind his mouth shut as well. 

Rosé gets up on Hazel. “y/n, will you join us?”

You nod. “I’m ready.”

You get up on Hazel and sit behind Rosé. She spurred Hazel forward with her heels. Hazel starts off slowly, moving out of the stables.

Hendery feels his body move forward as the rope pulls him. 

You and Rosé ignore Hendery’s protests. Rosé beckons for Hazel to run faster. You make it to the grassy field where the horses can ran freely. Hendery already suffers burns from the traction. Hazel has trampled him a couple of times now. He is losing consciousness. 

Rosé pulls her last trick and pulls the reins back to stop Hazel and Hendery’s body slips right under and she steps right over him. Spooked, she tramples him even more. 

“Well?” Rosé asks you.

You get off of Hazel and check on Hendery.

His body lied there, bruised, lifeless. His right leg was positioned awkwardly having broken a mile back, at the very least.

“He’s dead,” you confirm.

You and Rosé already planned to pin the murder on Doyoung, for he was just as responsible for Lucas’s death. Doyoung wanted to overthrow Hendery for a while and the guards confirmed it when questioned. 

Doyoung was sentenced to death by decapitation. 

Rosé returned to the Park Estate. You both continued your friendship, retiring from your murderous tendencies. As you have avenged the man you loved.

————

[June 1897]

Months have passed and the kingdom celebrated their beloved Queen’s birthday. You were still in mourning but everyone was relieved to see your enchanting smile again. The kingdom had a strong and capable leader in you.

As the citizens adored you, the palace staff grew to respect you. No whispers of “simpleton Queen” ever slipped from their mouths again. Most respected you. The skeptical ones feared you. No one dared to defy you now so long as they treated you with respect.

Seulgi had always been your most loyal servant so you elevated her position in the household. She and her family could live comfortably, as well. You made sure all of your trusted servants received fair payments.

You tracked down Miss Oral and the other servants who Ten fucked around with. Just as they themselves were loose, their lips were even looser. You dismissed them all from the palace. As for Jade’s family, you pardoned them for they didn’t sleep with your husband multiple times.

As for the guards who knew about Lucas’ murder, you had them dishonorably charged from the army. Most of them were slackers anyway, uncommitted to protecting the kingdom. They only cared about their titles. You needed to hire truly honorable men for the army and you knew just the right person to lead the new wave.

You welcomed Kahei and her family to move into the kingdom. They lived next to your mother and became friends. Only you and your mother knew of the actual identity of Lucas’s family. To everyone else, you claimed them to be distant relatives that you looked out for. Kahei and her family were also given the royal treatment. In a matter of time, you would let them join you in the palace, where they rightfully belonged. Beside you.

Yangyang was in the running to be the next commander of the royal army, outranking several of the other guards, much to their dismay. You knew it was a matter of time before he was given the official title.

Rosé visited you from time to time. You have become close friends, much to the shock of the public. It was believed that mourning the loss of your husbands brought you closer together.

If they only knew the true hell you both endured.

You had no plans to remarry. Your heart remained with Lucas. Even if there were only memories left. Lucas was buried, per his family’s wishes, in his summer home in Wanderlust. You told Rosé about Lucas’ true origins and instead of punishing you and his family, she befriended all of you. You, the twins, Rosé, and Lucas’ family went to visit Lucas’ grave and decorated it with flowers.

It was a bittersweet summer. You were in Wanderlust with Lucas, just not in the way either of you had hoped for. You knew he was with you in spirit and just like Kahei told you the first time you visited her, you two could meet again in the next life.

Hopefully, without the menacing presence that also lingered in your memories. Ten must have been an evil incubus that escaped hell, but you hoped that you sent him back to suffer, eternally.

Fin.

[winterhawkwonderland]

2020 Exchange Round up!

It’s here!!! An easy to find complete list of works from our 2020 Winterhawk Wonderland Exchange event. It is listed by title of work and author or artist, and includes rating, summary, and word count (if applicable). Our event excluded any of the AO3 Big Four warnings, but please do check tags and warnings on each work before diving in, just in case you find something there that squicks or triggers you!

Once again, thank you all so much for participating and making this a great event! Love the Winterhawk fandom!

If you do not see your work listed, please contact the Mods and we will update the post - all works were pulled from the AO3 Collection, but it’s possible we overlooked something or made a mistake! Additionally - Tumblr (in true Tumblr fashion) would not let us tag some creators - their names are on the list but the hyperlink doesn’t work. We apologize for the technical difficulty, but have no way of fixing broken Tumblr links. Please know that no offense was intended. 

The 300 Club by @fosterthefuture for @gwhell. Rated T, 10,109 words “Me here?” Bucky asks, a little hysterically. “What do you expect me to do, be the one to haul your frozen body in from the snow bank you inevitably fall into and die in?”Clint chuckles, as though what Bucky’s asked is completely illogical, which it decidedly is not. “Nah, you can suit up if you want to come along to make sure I stay on track, but I’ll make it back just fine. I really just need you to be here to make sure the door stays open, help me get my boots off and into those blankets when I get back.”“Clint,” Bucky asks, eyes now closed. “Please tell me you wouldn’t do this if you were completely alone.”The silence that emanates from the sauna is telling.“Well,” Clint finally says, “I’m trying to not get into the habit of lying to you, Barnes.”

40k misunderstandings by @verdantbogmoth for @flawsinthevoodoo. Not Rated, 3,280 words. “Are they real?” Bucky gasps. “Who keeps bags of real rose petals just lying on hand?”“Tony, for special random events and for us to steal to have fun with,” Clint supplies helpfully. “Where do they go?”“Everywhere,” Bucky decides. “The couch, the table, the fucking tv stand.” Clint pops the bag and they spend several minutes turning Bucky’s living area into a very perfumed, petal draped nightmare. “Oh, my god.” Bucky says gleefully. “It looks like a porno,” Clint claps. “A serial killer porno!” Bucky amends. “This is fantastic. Why aren’t rose petals everywhere, always. Why don’t more people just throw them around for any old event?”

[ART] Christmas fluff by @elynehil for @chekov-in-a-dress. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift :)

[ART] Cooking By The Book by @not-the-blue for @thegrowingwordsmith. Rated G.  Clint attempts a holiday recipe from Bucky's childhood. He... might need a second attempt.

[art] i (heart) hawkeye by @gwhells for @lantaniel. Rated G. Art for lantaniel for the Winterhawk wonderland gift exchange!

[ART] i still feel this way when light catches your face by @quicksillver for @sevdrag. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift! :)

An Affinity for Elf Culture by @bella-dahlia for @trekchik. Rated T. 8,501 words. When Bucky Barnes was told he would be doing press and community outreach as part of his prosthetic program, no one mentioned to him it would involve dressing up like an Elf from the North Pole.The hella cute blonde elf in head to toe purple hadn't been brought up either.Hiding in his hoodie wasn't going to be an option, was it?

All I Want for the Holidays Is You by @merelypassingtime for @flowerparrish. Rated G. 7,205 words. Clint obligingly took the last name in the hat. Unfolding it he read the name, Bucky. Crap. What was he supposed to do with that? When Clint draws Bucky’s name for the Avengers holiday gift exchange, he struggles to find the perfect gift.

as long as it’s with you by @theproblemwithstardust for @theonlyceeceej. Rated T. 2,651 words. Clint didn’t know when the thing between him and Bucky became an actual thing. At some point the banter had evolved from a fun and engaging way to pass the time into a weirdly competitive game of flirting chicken.

A bad day turned good by @gabrielsammysangel for @misterknife. Rated G. 1,115 words.  Clint Barton was having a bad day, one kiss to take it all away. Aka how a full bad day can be wipped away when you have a good boyfriend.

Bandages and Soot by @fanbinbun for @hawkguyandthewinterdude. Rated T. 2,358 words. “Oh, you’re new. Hi! I’m Clint. I come here often.” “I have been warned.” Bucky said with amusement curling his lips. “Got a name, or should I just give in and start calling you ‘hot nurse’?”

Because of Coffee and a Chocolate Doughnut. by @jazzrose343 for @loonyloopylisa. Rated M. 5,257 words. Bucky is an Actor. Clint is stunt actor and coordinator. Shenanigans Happen

Better Than Fine by @vexbatch for @theproblemwithstardust. Rated T. 4,439 words. Clint promised Kate he'd bring a plus one to her engagement party, but now he needs to find one. Maybe Bucky will do him a favor? Maybe Clint's crush on Bucky won't be a problem for said favor?

[ART] The Cat doesn't agree by @misterknife for @Inktastic1711. Rated G.  5 words. Clint was determined to get the best family photo this year. Except now he's pretty sure that fighting alien hoards or doombot armies might actually be easier than wrangling a cat into a sweater.Bucky says that Alpine's sorry.Clint thinks she might kill him in his sleep.

cause it's just what you must do by @sevdrag for yamyamyam. Rated T. 3,399 words. Clint ducks away at Tony's holiday party for a breather. Little does he know this closet is occupied.

Christmas With the Barnes's by @jstabe for @claraxbarton. Rated T. 3,163 words. He knows Clint is nervous. If he’s honest, he is a little too. He and Clint have been dating just shy of two years but with their hectic work schedules, it’s rare for them to have full days off together so Clint isn’t used to large family gatherings.

The Common Room by @trekchik for @nana-evans. Rated E. 1094 words. No one knows they're together. Right?

Communication is key by @averyrogers83writes for @harishe-art. Rated G. 3,434 words. Bucky screws up and pisses Clint off possibly ruining any chance of having more than a working relationship with the archer.

[ART] Cookies For Two by madnerding for @hopelessly-me. Rated G. 29 words.  My prompt was for cookie decorating and I hope I delivered. Enjoy!

Coping Mechanisms by @mariana-oconnor for @feathers-and-cigarettes. Rated E. 4,321 words. After the events of Freefall, Clint Barton is exhausted, bruised and on everyone's Most Wanted list. Luckily, or unluckily, it's Bucky Barnes who ends up finding him.

Cover Me by @downwarddnaspiral for @feedmecookiesnow. Rated M. 8,618 words. Clint and Bucky end up off the grid and in close quarters. Featuring the world’s crappiest safehouse, a semi-retired spy, and an assassin with strong opinions about the cold.

Delicate, hand wash only by @mollynoble for @pherryt. Rated E. 6,074 words.  “Hey, Buck, what do you need?” Clint moved closer, he wanted to reach out but he resisted the urge, that could be a bad idea right now. “What can I do to help?” He pitched his voice low and soothing. There was a pause, then Bucky's eyes focused on him. “Right now all I want is a bath and then sleep.”

Draw Me Like One of Your Frenchmen by @alchemistdoctor for @thwip. Rated M. 1,410 words. This is written for andthwip in the winterhawk wonderland exchange, who requested sexting during inappropriate times, date night ends in trying a new kink, or getting off in the field. I managed the first two!

Fate or Natasha by bear_shark for @kidd-you-not. Rated G. 1,663 words.  How it ended: Bucky watched the rise and fall of Clint’s chest while he slept. Every few minutes, he would snuffle and rub his face against Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s phone pinged, and he carefully checked his texts. Natasha: How did your date with Clint go? Bucky sat up quickly, jostling Clint. “What the hell?” 

The Fight Before Christmas by @theonlyceeceej for @jstabe. Rated E. 4,040 words. Now, don’t let it be said that Bucky couldn’t take a joke. He could. Really. But sometimes it was just too much. Clint was just too much. Clint is the epitome of a schoolboy with a crush; Pulling pigtails, calling names, the lot! Ok, maybe it was more than a crush, judging by the many thoughts about being thrown around by the Winter Soldier. He just needed to get his attention... But will it work?

For This by @endof-theline for @elynehil. Rated G. 5,652 words. Bucky and Clint are moving in together and it's not just the boys we have to worry about, because Lucky and Alpine are moving too!

Getaway Car by @feedmecookiesnow for @genderfluid-and-confuzled. Rated G. 4,405 words. The guy regains his balance and starts running again. He slips one more time, slides a little more, and then suddenly he’s right next to the car, fumbling at the handle of the passenger side door. A blast of cold wind comes as he yanks it open, practically falling into the seat in a swirl of snowflakes. “Go, go!” he yells, and Clint goes. He doesn’t even question it, just slams the car into drive and shoots out into the street, skidding a little on the ice.

Guardian Angel by @chrissihr for @spacetimeconundrum. Rated T. 3,469 words. Clint attracts strays like moths to flame. All he wanted to do was bring home a puppy he found in a box marked ‘free’ in crayon. It was just sitting out in the rain under the awning in front of his neighborhood pizza place.He couldn't just leave it there ... right?

Hit Me With Your Best Shots by @thegrowingwordsmith for @fosterthefuture. Rated G. 2,185 words. As a barista, Bucky has witnessed a lot of crazy customers and their creations. He has made drinks with so much syrup that there was barely room for coffee, and gotten orders with so many modifications that it had to print on multiple stickers. None, however, even came close to the strangeness of Too Much Caffeine guy.

[ART] How do you like them apples? by @lantaniel for @vexbatch. Rated G.  Because Clint is incapable of 1.doing a calm activity, and 2.not climbing a tree.

Howl by @drgrlfriend for @mariana-oconnor. Rated T. 9,729 words. Excerpt: Bucky gets that uncomfortable feeling again, like he missed something. Lost time maybe. It’s been happening less and less, but it still happens. “I don’t know what you mean.” The man runs a broad hand up the back of his neck, mouth pulling to the side as he seems to consider his words. “Skin feels too tight sometimes? Feels like you gotta keep moving, but no place feels right? Got an ache deep in your bones that you just can’t seem to get rid of?” “What —” Bucky swallows, the rest of the sentence jagged in his throat. He knows there are Avengers who are witches, or telepaths, or whatever, but he’d never heard of Hawkeye being one of them. “How are you — are you in my head? —”

[ART] I got you by @vexedbeverage for @gabrielsammysangel. Rated T. 100 words. I decided I wanted to do some art but then my writing brain told me I couldn't stop there. I've never done a drabble before so I thought I'd give it a try!

I Love How Your Soul is A Mix of Chaos and Art by @flawsinthevoodoo for @merelypassingtime. Rated T. 5,745 words. This is basically a 5+1 where Clint "Borrows" a great many hoodies as a coping mechanism and Bucky decides Clint needs to be a part of his life, not just his laundry.

if these wings could fly by @flowerparrish for @hawksonfire. Rated M. 4,018 words. He waits a few moments, pretty sure he’s going to have to start knocking again, when the door swings open. There’s Bucky, shirtless, disheveled, wings spread out behind him like some kind of tragic painting of an angel. Not that Clint knows much about art, but with the dark colors and dim lights he thinks this could totally have been something one of those old dudes dreamed up.

It Must be Winter in my Heart by @harishe-art for @jazzrose343. Rated G. 3,055 words. It's the holiday season and for some reason Clint and Bucky keep getting mistaken as a couple. They hadn't even planned to meet up most of them time. Why does this keep happening to them?

It was Only a Winter's Tale by @harishe-art for @averyrogers83. Rated G. 1,628 words.  Clint and Bucky prepare to celebrate their first winter holiday together when Bucky has a realization during an argument.

it was peace by @loonyloopylisa for @drgrlfriend. Rated G. 1,932 words. “Um, hi, I’m Bucky?” he said, hating himself for the way it came out like a question. “Hi Bucky,” the man answered, a wide smile on his tan face, “I’m Clint. What can I do for you?” Inwardly thankful for this therapist for making him practice he said, “I was wondering if you had any volunteer opportunities?” Clint gave him a considering look, bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Bucky was sure he was assessing him and finding him lacking, taking in the missing arm and coming up with a reason Bucky wouldn’t fit in. He was bracing himself for the rejection when Clint said, “sure.”

A Kind of Magic by @sian1359 for bear_shark. Rated G. 7.034 words. Bucky has some help adapting from being Hydra's Winter Soldier to becoming the Avenger's Winter Soldier

Lilac you a lot by @hawkguyandthewinterdude for @harishe-art. Rated T. 6,490 words.  It starts with one purple sock and just escalates from there.

Lost Time by @lissadiane for @vexedbeverage. Rated T. 10,029 words. Clint’s always known the universe doesn’t like him all that much. But all he knows now, as his heart beats out a rhythm and there isn’t a heartbeat to harmonize with it, is that he’s found his soulmate -- and he’s been dead for over 70 years. It’s ironic. It burns. It shouldn’t surprise him. Barney won’t be surprised. Barney’s been saying the universe has it out for them for Clint’s whole life. And this is just further proof. In which soulmates exist but Clint's parents are proof that sometimes, they go terribly wrong.

The Maybe To Your Story by @kangofu-cb for @mollynoble. Rated E. 5,162 words. Bucky walked out of the shared bathroom whistling under his breath, happily ignoring Steve’s groan as he whipped off the towel around his waist to half-assedly swipe at the water droplets on his shoulders. “Oh, you’re still here?” he asked blithely, toweling at his hair. “Might want to shake a leg before you get an eyeful of something you want to see even less than my dick.” “I’m going, I’m going,” Steve grumbled. “Fuck. Can’t believe I’m getting sexiled for the third time this week. For Barton.” Or, instead of talking about their feelings, Clint and Bucky decide to fuck about it.

my hands no longer an afterthought by @shatteredhourglass for @quicksillver. Rated T. 2,922 words. Bucky's moving on with his life. Shaking off the Soldier. There's still that one nagging, blond idiot-shaped regret, though.

Nowhere to go but with you by Lacerta for @sian1359. Rated G. 5,905 words. Clint fights the urge to cross his arms, keeping them hanging loosely by his sides instead, and forces himself to relax his shoulders. It’s just a small precaution in case he needs to react fast but, god, he hopes it doesn’t come to that. He doubts any precaution that doesn’t include a loaded weapon would help him last more than a minute. He watches the man sitting across the kitchen table from him, curled in on himself under Clint’s warmest blanket with his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and tries to wrap his head around the very unusual, very alarming situation he has gotten himself into.

On The Fifth Day of Christmas, The Winter Soldier Stole For Me..... by @ch3ls3ara3 for @alchemistdoctor. Rated T. 8,178 words.  “Are these pears? Why the hell is there a pear tree in my apartment?” he asked Lucky who was now sitting patiently, staring up at the bird with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “What is happening?” Clint Barton knew he was a disaster, it never really shocked him anymore when he ended up in strange situations. These twelve days leading up to Christmas, though? Those days he would have never seen coming.

the one where Clint hates christmas horror by @thwip for @bella-dahlia. Rated M. 2,898 words. “We take turns, Clint. This week is Nat’s turn, next week is yours,” Tony quips, sipping from his own mug. “We can watch The Holiday, for the third year in a row, then.” Clint opens his mouth and starts to protest Tony’s eye roll because The Holiday is a cinematic masterpiece and Kate Winslet may give her best performance yet, Tony! Not to mention Cameron Diaz! Singing Mr Brightside! It’s a great film, when the front door opens and Bucky and Steve walk in, laughing about something. Clint's mouth snaps shut and his eyes immediately flicking towards Bucky, admiring the way the navy fabric of his henley clings to the thick biceps that are almost bursting out of it.

Operation Snowbound by RedTeamShark for @heartonfirewrites. Rated G. 4,048 words. The mission is a simple job: tag a convoy as it drives through the pass and then skedaddle back down the mountain. Easy enough that Clint could do it in his sleep. And he doesn’t even have to pull the trigger, that’s what Bucky’s there for. Until an unexpected weather event leaves the two of them stranded on a mountainside in a blizzard, battling the cold, Clint’s taste in coffee, and Bucky’s idea of idle conversation.

Outside the World by @pherryt for @verdantbogmoth. Rated G. 4,767 words. Bucky doesn't really remember who he is, and what little he does remember is impossible. All his therapists have said so. There's no way he can be who he thinks he is - a character from a children's book.And yet, the world around him just doesn't *feel* right - its too dark, too colorless and doesn't match the vibrancy of his dreams. Dreams he tries to capture both on paper and on his walls.Bucky doesn't have any answers he can count on, just the hat he's kept all these years, but that guy that started following him - as vibrant and eye-catching as the pieces of Bucky's dreams -Well, he just might.

The Prince's "Delivery Boy" by allyouneedissleep for @endof-theline. Rated T. 4,917 words. He wouldn’t have any issues at all with the secrecy rules stating that only people in confirmed legal marriages could tell their significant other about their job if he was planning to marry anyone except the Prince who was first in line to take over as King of Brooklyn after his marriage went through. Clint was about to effectively become Queen of Brooklyn and he couldn’t even tell his fiance what he did for a living. As far as Bucky knew, he was a delivery boy. A DELIVERY BOY.

[ART] Snow Way Out! by @inktastic1711 for @fanbinbun. Rated G. 24 words. Prompt: While on a mission, Clint and Bucky end up on an impromptu sledding trip down the snowy hill/mountain to escape the bad guys. Bonus points if the sled isn't actually a sled.

Snowed In by @chekov-in-a-dress for @ch3ls3ara3. Rated T. 4,332 words.  Secret Santa Story for CarafeOfColdBrew! Dad Bucky and his daughter Nat are on their way to Bentonsport where Bucky is supposed to check out a possible site to build a resort when they get overwhelmed by a snowstorm. How lucky that they get pointed to a bed and breakfast owned by a certain handsome dork.

So much to say (I just can't speak) by @hopelessly-me for Allyouneedissleep. Rated T. 3,260 words. Bucky has never considered himself the jealous type. But when Steve and Clint start hanging out more and more, Bucky starts pulling back to protect his own feelings.

Some Luck by @claraxbarton for @not-the-blue. Rated T. 3,558 words. “Cowboys?” he asked. Judith smiled at him. “I love to give my darlings what they want.”

a storm is comin' in by @heartonfirewrites for @chrissihr. Rated T. 9,686 words. Sasquatches don’t exist. Clint is sure of it. So what’s that fuckin' bigass yeti doing outside Tony’s upstate cabin in the middle of a nor’easter, looming ominously and ruining Clint’s plans for a quiet Christmas alone with Lucky?

Time and Time Again by @pherryt for @shatteredhourglass. Rated E. 6,497 words. The past has a way of catching up to people and Clint knows that better than most. Despite that ingrained life lesson, he still doesn't expect it when a part of Steve's past turns out to also be part of Clint’s. He's... not sure where to go from here.

too cold to feel (but i know you're there) by @hawksonfire for @trashcanakin. Rated T. 1,983 words.  Clint’s been cold his whole life. He doesn’t mind, really, has learned to always keep a pair of gloves on him, even in the summer. He gets weird looks for it, but he stopped caring what people thought of him a long time ago. His apartment has always got spare blankets laying around, and his dresser is jam packed with thick pairs of socks.

[ART] A Walk in the Woods by @spacetimeconundrum for @downwarddnaspiral. Rated T.  One finds the strangest things in the woods...

What's a Guy Like You Doing in a Place Like This by @sevdrag for @kangofu-cb​. Rated T. 8,091 words. A 5+1 fic for Winterhawk Wonderland: Five Times It Wasn't A Date, and One Time It Actually Was.

Word Search by yamyamyam for RedTeamShark. Rated T. 3,858 words. Bucky doesn't understand why he should have to see a doctor about a measly little bullet wound. Steve doesn't understand why that would be optional, Jesus Christ, Buck, we can have nice things now. Clint doesn't understand why he can't visit Bucky in the super-secure lockdown ward. The NYFD doesn't understand why Clint can't get out of a baby swing without the jaws of life. Natasha doesn't understand why she puts up with any of these idiots.

[ART] You Come Here Often? by @trashcanakin​ for Madnerding. Rated G.  winterHawk in the vents.

You had me at Loathing by @kidd-you-not​ for Lacerta. Rated T. 5,715 words. "What?" he asks absolutely no one, completely baffled. Movement to his left catches his eye and he twists around, still hanging from the balcony railing by his legs, and gapes. There, right there on the adjourning apartment building, is a man. A man clad all in black, with chestnut brown hair falling to his chin and a mask covering the lower part of his face. Holding a sniper rifle in his right hand and giving Clint a mocking little salute with the left. "Motherfucker!" Clint screams. Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier work for competing companies. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they cross paths on more jobs than either of their handlers can endure.

Honorable Mention:

The Opposite of Love by @teeelsie-posts for @loonyloopylisa. Rated E. 10,000 words. You know that social media post where the guy says he’s a felon and he’ll come terrorize your family for Thanksgiving in exchange for a free meal? Yeah, that’s what this is. Except that Clint is Clint, and Bucky is Bucky, and they’re both Avengers, but Clint’s family is a bunch of assholes and Bucky decides to help him out with that. Oh, and it’s Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Mod Note: This fic was begun for last year’s exchange then discarded for another idea, but Teeelsie finished it unexpectedly and asked permission to include it in this year’s collection and we were happy to allow that. Please enjoy!

[thiswasinevitableid]

for monster march, ghost + indruck + nsfw?

Here you go! I borrowed some ideas we’ve tossed around on the Discord

A sketchbook, new pens, a Hershey bar, and a bag of jumbo marshmallows. A small but lively fire. And a new, huge, fuzzy sleeping bag waiting for him in the tent. 

Not a bad camping set up for a city-boy art goth (as Barclay likes to call him).

Indrid sticks another marshmallow on the fork, roasting it until it’s deep brown, the smell of burning sugar curling through the air and settling in his hair. He’s never liked Graham Crackers, so he jams a square of chocolate into the molten center of the marshmallow and shoves the entire thing into his mouth. 

Kepler is small. Barclay hadn’t been kidding about that. He’d also been right that one of the two tattoo shops in town was willing to hire Indrid after looking through photos of his work and confirming he completed his apprenticeship. 

He’s been living in the Eastwoods campground in the Monongahela National Forest while he apartment hunts, and the tattoos he’s done so far netted him enough cash to buy his luxurious new sleeping bag. He might be waiting on a place for some time, so he may as well camp in style. 

Three “s’mores” later, the moon is up and the night is chilly enough that he wants his sweatshirt. Ducking into the tent, he can’t find it on his pillow, where he swears he left it this morning. Maybe he accidentally buried it getting dressed.

A splashhiss interrupts his rummaging. Scrambling from the tent, he discovers his fire is now a pile of soaked ashes and logs being angrily stirred by a thick piece of kindling. 

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

A man in a ranger uniform appears, the stick falling through his hand as he gives Indrid a disapproving stare. 

“Look here, I know you’re new here, maybe to campin entirely. But you can’t just leave a fire burnin when you go to bed.” He doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s a disappointed big brother scolding his sibling. 

“I wasn’t-”

“And all this” he gestures to the food on the table, “has gotta go in the bear box. Black bears are real good foragers and we don’t want ‘em comin’ into camp and gettin to comfy around humans.”

“Of course, but-”

“You didn’t take any food into the tent, right? Wouldn’t want somethin to decide to join you ‘cause it smelled a snack.”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “I am aware of all of these rules, and plan to follow them. Once I actually go to bed instead of ducking into the tent for my sweater. But since my evening appears to be over…” he grabs the marshmallows, roasting fork, and chocolate, carries them to the bear box, and slams it closed. 

When he whirls back around, the ghost is still there, chagrined. 

“Uh, sorry. I kinda jumpy about people leavin fires alone.” In the lantern light, his smile is as charming as his drawl. His stocky, bearish shape and unassumingly handsome face command Indrid’s focus, which is why his revelation comes so quickly. 

“You...there’s a statue of you at the visitor center. Which makes you, ah, damn it what was the name-”

“Duck. Duck Newton. They put my legal name on there, even though Juno tried to stop ‘em. But my name’s Duck.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Duck. I’m Indrid.”

“Nice to meet you too. Uh, sorry for ruinin your campfire, looks like you were havin a nice time.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I’m grateful there’s someone haunting the campsites to keep them in order.”

“You’re takin me bein’ a ghost surprisingly well.”

“I’ve always been interested in strange things, to the point that I earned the nickname ‘mothman’ in high school.”

“Huh” Duck watches him a moment, then shrugs, “well, guess I better be goin’. Have a nice night, mothman.”

With that, he’s gone.

------------------------------------------------------

“Hello again.” Indrid says as the campfire smoke curls around a human form, “Doing your rounds?”

“More or less. I like my job, and ain’t about to give it up just because I beefed it and turned into a ghost.” A creak as Duck joins him on the picnic bench. When he materializes, he floats slightly above the worn wood, watching Indrid draw. 

“That’s incredible, it’s so realistic it’s like you pressed the leaves into the pages instead of colored them.”

“Thank you.” adds depth to the leaf, “you know, I looked at the statue again today. It hardly does you justice.”

From this close, he can see a blush spread up semi-opaque cheeks. Then he starts fading.

“Oh, ah, I’m sorry. I was aiming for a benign compliment, not to make you uncomfortable.”

“S’alright, just surprised me. Not many folks wanna flirt with a dead guy.”

“I’m more interested in what the ‘dead guy’ wants.” Indrid smiles, hoping to convey he would submit to spectral touches as readily as he’d keep talking. 

Duck floats closer, “Kinda curious about your other drawin’s.”

Indrid turns the sketchbook back to the beginning, “they’re half portfolio and half travelogue. Here” he holds up a fade, detached piece of paper,  covered by an Morpho Butterfly that looks ready to fly away, “this is the first tattoo I ever designed.”

“Damn. Guessin’ that means you did this one” he touches the Rosy Maple Moth on Indrid’s forearm (or tries to). It’s chilly, but not in the way Indrid feared. More like taking a cool shower on a sweltering day.

“I did. Here, it gave me an idea for my first series of flash tattoos…”

They go over the illustrations page by page. Slowly, Indrid weaves in questions to Duck who, instead of recoiling from discussion of his mortal life, tells him rambling stories about the woods and which places serve the best food in town. 

The conversation doesn’t end until the fire goes out on it’s own, Duck standing automatically, grabbing a water bottle, swearing, and then disappearing so he can pick the bottle up. 

“Do you think that’s part of why you’re still here? Some unfinished business having to do with the woods?”

“Nah.” The water bottle thunks back on the table as Duck reappears, “I tried to live a normal life, improve the world the way I knew how, make some kind of difference to this town. Then I had to go play the goddamn hero.”

“I would say saving two dozen people from a forest fire makes a considerable difference in the world.”

A sad huff of a laugh, “Yeah, guess you’re right. Just...I meant to do somethin’ with my life, not my death, even if it was a small somethin’, and the closest thing I got to unfinished business is a model ship.”

“I...what?”

“It was four-masted and everything! I had Leo order it in special and everything and then I never, I never got to-”  He tilts his head up, sniffs once, “never mind. I better let you get to sleep.”

By the time Indrid calls “goodnight,” the ghost is gone. 

------------------------------------------

“Please tell me you’re gettin a place soon so you stop eatin everythin outta a can?” Leo bags the last of groceries.

“No such luck. Ah well, there are worse things than canned soup and Pop-Tarts.”

“At least let Barclay feed you, half the point of havin a friend who can cook is to let ‘em do it for you. You need stamps or anything?”

“N-” A box behind the counter catches his eye. It’s at an odd angle, as if whoever put it there is hoping no one will see it. Indrid can just make out an illustration of a four-masted ship.

“Is that for sale?”

Leo looks where he’s pointing, and for a moment something in his gruff affability wavers. Then he nods, “Yeah, suppose it is.”

“Can you ring it up for me?” Indrid nearly bounces on his toes when Leo sets the box on the counter and confirms his hunch. 

The older man sets a gentle hand on the cardboard, sliding it across to Indrid, “Don’t worry about that, kid. It’s yours.”

----------------------------------------------

“Duck?” Indrid turns in a circle by the picnic table, “Duck, I have something for you!”

He saw the ranger briefly last night, but he didn’t hang around. Gingerly, he sets the box on the table, tearing off a piece of sketch paper to write a note in case the ghost stops by while he’s asleep. 

“Holy fuck.” Duck floats across the table from him, “‘Drid, where did, how did--why?”

“Leo still had it. As for why I, ah, it seemed like you still wanted it. If you can douse a fire and over my camp stove, I figure you can build a model ship.”

Duck disappears and Indrid’s heart sinks; that must have been too much. Then he’s squished in an invisible, wonderful bear hug.

“Thanks, ‘Drid.”

From then on, Duck spends every night at his campsite, building the ship while Indrid draws, reads, or talks with him. The model lives in the safest corner of the tent during the day.

“I mean, I’m up durin the day too, but I scared a few folks on accident and I don’t want people avoid the forest because of me.”

Indrid also learns that Duck is stuck within a certain radius of where he died, and that his attempts to talk with Juno when she was in his part of the woods only lead to his friend thinking she was hallucinating and Duck feeling miserable for three solid days. Indrid offers to act as messenger and invite Duck’s friends (many of whom have, by chance and by proximity to Barclay, become his friends) to the campsite to see him. The ranger is quiet for some time after that offer.

“Not yet. Maybe someday, but not yet. I, it ain’t even been a year, ‘Drid. I think a lot of ‘em are still hurtin. And, and maybe this is selfish but...I ain’t ready to deal with them findin’ out I aint fully gone. It’d be so much all at once.”

Indrid doesn’t bring it up again. More than once, when Aubrey tells a story about Duck only for her eyes to sadden halfway through, or when he sees Juno looking at Duck’s statue a little too long, he struggles to keep his promise. 

A cold front blows into town and, since he’s still in the tent, he pops into Kepler Thrift N Find in search of an extra sweatshirt. Tucked in between one reading “Ranchos” and one with a picture of Garfield is a soft, well-loved hoodie with “Monongahela National Forest” on the front. He buys it and wears it home, the fact it’s loose in the arms making it even easier to tuck in his hands when he gets cold. 

He stops by the visitor center out of habit, checking out the new plush wild animals. There are also hints of Duck here and there; his name on displays, his face in group photos. As he contemplates a small, squishy black bear, he notices Juno looking at him more than usual.

“Hello again” he sets the bear on the counter.

“Howdy. This all?

“Yes, please. Are you alright? You look, ah, tired.”

“Yep. Or, uh, just noticed that sweatshirt. It was one that got made special for staff a few years ago.”

Indrid fidgets with the cat-bitten drawstring, “It was Duck’s, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh. He put that patch on the sleeve. Guess it startled me to see it on someone else.”

“I understand.” 

“Knew him since we were kids. Hell, he’s my daughter’s godfather. Still don’t feel right, bein’ here without him.”

Indrid pushes the bear towards her and she pets it.

“What was he like?”

In the empty visitor center, Juno tells him. In her stories are echos of every conversation he’s ever had with anyone who knew Duck. When it’s time to close up, she asks if she can hug him, and thanks him for listening to her. 

“Guess you weren’t kiddin about wanting to sleep with a bear” Duck teases as Indrid sets his new purchase inside the tent. Indrid whaps at him, arm going through his torso. The ranger floats nearby as Indrid heats up ravioli and opens a can of Mountain Dew. Indrid tells him about the conversation with Juno. 

“Huh, guess that is my old one. Glad someone is gettin some use outta it. And it looks good on you.”

Indrid sets down his bowl, “We talked a lot, Duck. And it made me think about what you said to me one of the night after we met. You said you wanted a chance to make the world, the town, a little better. Everyone I’ve talked to, and I mean every one, has a story about you. How you helped them, how Kepler is worse off with you gone. You did so much, even with your time cut short. I, I wanted you to know that.”

The ghost looks away, “I wasn’t done tryin to help.”

“You still aren’t. You do what you can to keep the forest and the visitors safe. And you, you’ve made my life immeasurably better Duck. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I think I’m falling--ah, that is, you’re not done making a difference.”

Duck hasn’t moved since Indrid started talking about his feelings. When Indrid tries to meet his eyes, he disappears. Hurried, he reaches out to offer a reassuring touch and gets only air. 

“Duck?”

Nothing, even after he calls his name three more times.

He slumps onto the bench, “well, fuck me I guess.”

---------------------------------------------------

This is a terrible idea. But it’s his last, and therefore his best. 

Indrid even asked Barclay’s boyfriend, Joseph, if anything in his impressive library of the paranormal advised the reader on dealing with upset ghosts. A few did, always from the perspective of trying to get the specter to go away. They said nothing about what to do if your upset ghost was missing, leaving an ache in your heart you didn’t know you were capable of feeling. 

Instead, after a week of silence, Indrid changes tactics: if he can’t coax Duck back, maybe he can annoy him into appearing. 

Tonight, he finishes dinner and cleans his dishes, puts the bulk of the food in the bear box, and then tears open a bag of chips, scattering them across the table. He eats one, then leaves the open bag laying amongst the potato shards. 

Next, he dumps his remaining water on the fire, which takes it down to embers but does not extinguish it. When none of that gets a reaction, he decides to narrate.

“Hmm, that should be fine, it’s not that dry and I don’t think sparks can go over the edge.”

“Should I leave these juice pouches out? Yes, I think I should, in case I get thirsty at night. Maybe I’ll take one into the tent, just to be safe.”

He already feels silly and like no one is listening, and so he escalates. 

“I know I shouldn’t leave food out for the wildlife, but since there’s no handsome, ghostly ranger here to punish me for my transgressions, I am just going to leave some nuts out for the raccoons. I like raccoons. They deserve nice things. Hell, how about I just leave them a whole buffet since no one is stopping me!”

All he gets in reply are the few bugs awake this early in the spring and the crack of brush as a small mammal runs away from the weird bipedal thing yelling at his camp fire. He doesn’t leave out food for the raccoons; he climbs into his tent in a huff. What a bad idea, to think this of all things would bring Duck back to him. He’s being childish and bratty and selfish; Duck doesn’t deserve that, no more than he owes Indrid his company. 

He changes into his pajamas pants and sleep shirt, intending to go back out to make the site safe and tidy. Except.

Except something just opened the bear box. The chip bag crinkles and the fire hisses out a minute later. He should be running outside to apologize, but his mind has simultaneously  registered the full darkness of the night , the possibility that Duck is not the only paranormal thing in these woods, and the fact the nearest other campers are on the other side of the campground, meaning he is very, very alone.

The zipper on the tent moves, the flap falling open so his lantern shines on nothing but April air.

“Duck? Please say that’s you.”

A low chuckle, “It’s me, ‘Drid.” The fly zips shut, “mighty peeved about that trick you pulled.”

“I’m, I’m sorry. I missed you, but that was a bad way to communicate that.” He can’t see him, and the lantern only picks up the odd shift of sleeping bag or tent floor, so Indrid’s eyes’ dart about trying to pinpoint him.

“Oh, you communicated plenty, sugar. Like what you want a certain, uh, ghostly ranger to do to you.”

“Oh god” he winces, “please, forget I said that, it’s humiliating.”

“Not all that surprisin, truth be told. I mean, you and I flirted now and then. And you told me enough about yourself for me to suspect that you’re a kinky little weirdo who’s dyin to get fucked by a ghost.” 

“I, I feel I should point out that I only want to fuck one ghost. You. I want to fuck you and that means fucking a ghoOOOst.” He gasps as cold lips press into his neck.

“I can make that happen, darlin, all you gotta do is say it. You were a pain in the neck earlier, so now I expect you to be real polite and use your words.” Duck’s voice has never been like this before, rough and possessive yet still, under all of it, the same warmth draws Indrid in like a flame. 

“I want you, Duck.”

A bite to his ear, strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind him, “Want me to do what?”

“Fuck me” this is like every wet dream he had as a teenager, the supernatural being coming for a fellow outsider. 

That gets him a tender kiss on the cheek, “That’s better. Though, if I’m rememberin correctly, word you used was punish.”

Indrid yelps as Duck turns and shoves him to lay across his lap, kicks his legs out in surprise when his waistband slides down to his upper thighs. 

“Yesss” he wiggles his ass as Duck palms it, “yes, Duck, pleaseAHgod” the first strike stings, and Duck doesn’t let him recover before delivering five more, three to each side. His cock perks up at the pain. Stranger still, because Duck is invisible, all Indrid has to do is tilt his head to watch it harden and twitch with each slap.

Twenty strikes later Duck pauses, hand rubbing soothing, cool circles on the burning skin, “Learned your lesson?”

“Mmhmm.” Indrid presses an awkward kiss to Duck’s knee. 

“Glad to hear it.” Duck hauls him up onto his knees, slides a hand under his shirt and up his chest, “I’m rarin’ to feel more of you--holy fuck” 

“AH!” Indrid arches as Duck toys with his left nipple piercing, his other hand quickly finding the right. 

“God, fuck, you’re fuckin hot, if I were alive I woulda taken you home first time I saw you.” Messy kisses cover his neck as Duck tugs the piercings.

“Gaahnnyes, that’s, that’s very flattering.”

“Ain’t flattery, sugar, it’s the truth. Never could turn down some skinny punk with piercin’s and messy hair, not when I was a teen burnout hidin in the woods and sure as hell not now.” He moves Indrid onto his back, rucking up his shirt as his legs twist in his half-down pants. The ranger cups his face, and Indrid is positive he’s meeting his eyes, “tell me what you want sugar, tell me so I can treat you right.”

“Marks, I want marks anywhere you’ll give them.”

A growl from above him, then lips smashing into his, drinking him in before continuing down his throat, biting and sucking hard enough that he cries out every time. Duck pauses, teasing his nipples with his tongue as he rakes his nails up his sides. He sits up and for a horrible moment Indrid loses him. Then with glee he watches five red marks drag down his chest. He moans, rolling his hips and discovering just how closer Duck’s clothed cock is to his own. The contact only feeds the rangers eagerness, and Indrid is tosses and turns as he sucks, bites, and scratches, laying claim to the illustrated expanse of his body. 

“More, please, god that all feels so good.” 

“Don’t worry darlin, still got plenty of you to mark up, but we’re gonna do somethin else while I do.” He eases Indrid onto his stomach, slaps his ass fondly, “don’t go nowhere.”

Indrid’s duffel bag unzips, clothes and pens moved aside until a bottle of lube hovers in the air. The tube compresses and drips coat the rough outline of fingers. When the two digits press into him he sighs, eyes closing as he melts under Ducks watchful eyes. 

“That’s it ‘Drid, relax for me. Got well over a year of horny to work out, so this cute ass needs to be ready to take it.”

Indrid pushes his hips back in reply, taking as far as the fingers will go and whimpering excitedly when he presses in the tip of the third. Duck works that one more carefully, kissing Indrid’s face and shoulders as he whispers about how good he is, how much he’s wanted this.

“I want it too so for, for goodness sake please fuck me soon or I’ll leave my entire cooler out for the bears.”

“Only one bear in this campsite tonight darlin.” Duck laves his tongue down the base of his spine, bites down hard on his ass. Indrid’s still moaning from the pain when his cock pushes in.

“Fuuuckme that’s good. Shoulda snuck into your tent sooner, sugar, made you a fuckin cocksleeve you feel so fuckin good.”

“Ohgod” is all Indrid, voice muffled by the sleeping bag he’s biting, manages before Duck adjusts them so Indrid is on his knees. The ranger isn’t gentle, pounds into him like he’s nothing but a warm hole and chuckles whenever Indrid moans. 

“H-handprints, Duck, want hand prints GAHyesyesyes” he struggles to move in time with the ghost as the air fills with ear-splitting slaps. He’s so close, the pain and the sensation of phantom fingers claiming his body making his body beg for release. When he slides a hand down to jerk himself off, the arm twists up and stays trapped against his back. 

“You wanna cum, you know what to do.”

He blinks away the ecstatic tears, words raw in his throat, “Please let me cum, Duck. I want to, need to cum while you fuck me pleaseplease-” he cuts off into whine as the ghost works his cock hard, all the while jamming into him hard enough that the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag burns his knees. When he cums it’s with a weak cry of Duck’s name, which is swallowed up by hungry lips as Duck kisses him over and over, repeating Indrid’s name like an incantation as he pumps his hips and cums, pulling out as he does so it splatters on the reddened patches of his ass. 

A final kiss to the top of his head, and then there’s no contact between them and the zipper is moving.

“Oh no you don’t” Indrid scrambles, sweaty and exhausted, between the tent fly and the invisible man somewhere in front of him, “for goodness sake, Duck, I thought you liked me enough to at least let me fall asleep before you ran.”

The ranger finally appears, hair a mess and cheeks noticeably pink, “‘Drid, all that was amazing, but it’s all I can give you. I, I can’t...you said you were fallin for me and I can’t give you that.”

Indrid cocks his head, “Why not?”

“Because I’m a fuckin ghost, ‘Drid! You deserve to be with a livin’ fella, you deserve someone who can be a real part of your life.”

He crosses his arms, “Duck, you are a real part of my life. Honestly, what part of all the nights we spent together, all the ways we take care of each other, all of this” he points at the rumpled sleeping bag, “suggests otherwise?”

The ghost doesn’t speak, simply hugs himself (or tries to).

“If this is too much, if I’m offering something you do not want, then please tell me. But if this is you thinking that some paranormal quirks keep you from being a worthy partner for me, kindly think again.”

Duck disappears and Indrid is gearing up to try and tackle a supernatural entity when a familiar face buries itself in the crook of his neck. The ghost clings to him, and Indrid clings right back. 

“You really wanna give it a go?”

“More than anything.”

Duck lifts his head so their cheeks rest together, “Then fuck it. Let’s see what happens.”

----------------------------------------

Indrid finishes hooking up his lightly used Winnebago, AKA his solution to the lack of available apartments. He’s in a different section of Eastwoods, but he’s happy with his new spot. He opens one of his few boxes, gently lifts the completed model ship into a place of honor, and waits, humming happily, for an unseen hand to knock on his door. 

[datawyrms]

Prove it with one hand behind your back

Dannymay day 12: Gloves There is reference to the events in Hypothesis, but can be read stand alone. Now Ao3′d “Uhhh, Danny?” Jazz called up the stairs, laundry basket under her arm.

“What? I’ll get my stuff when it’s dry!” Her brother yelled back down, apparently not interested in leaving his room so they could speak semi-normally.

“Normally it would be my duty as your sister to throw your wash on the floor. Were you aware your laundry is glowing?”

Her frazzled brother appeared at the stairs then, taking them two at a time. “Geeze Jazz, tell the whole neighborhood why don’t ya?” he hissed as he passed.

“Mom and Dad aren’t here, and you’re welcome.”

“Obviously. Jerk.” he made an exaggerated frown at her before ducking into the washer, dragging out handfuls of the expected tee-shirts and jeans followed by an impressive amount of mismatched lightly glowing gloves.

“You’re taking trophies now?” she raised an eyebrow, unsure what to make of it. Not a single one had a pair, and none of them were even his ghost form’s hazmat gloves. Quite a few of them looked rather elaborate, some very interesting embroidered patterns making it obviously not something of her brother’s making. Delicacy was not his strong suit.

“Huh? No! These are-” he paused, taking a breath as he covered the glowing handwear with several shirts. “You remember that whole Sam got dragged to the ghost zone because Aragon’s an idiot thing?”

“The self important dragon shapeshifter with some serious hangups and anger issues?”

“Yeah, that one.” he nodded, rubbing at his chin. “Did I mention Dora sort of knighted us for helping drive him out of power?”

“No, but I’m pretty used to you leaving out important details by now.” Jazz smirked as her little brother rolled his eyes.

“It was nice of her and all but apparently they have a sort of tradition in her Kingdom? Where to show you’re worthy of joining the Queen’s guard you challenge one of the newest knights to a duel.” Danny paused to fish out one of the gloves. “Giving over a glove is basically how they ask for that duel. All very formal, I’d write it down if I could explain how I know without completely blowing my cover.”

“So you’ve got a bunch of medieval ghosts throwing gloves at you and wanting to duel...and you decided to wash them. At home.” Jazz crossed her arms. “Seriously?’

“Where else was I gonna do it? I thought they’d make decent proof so show Dad ghosts have society and rules.” He paused, throwing the glowing thing back under his regular clothes. “Then I remembered there’s no way I could explain how I got these. So now they’ll just smell nice in Sam’s closet or something.”

“Your closet a little too risky this time?”

“Nope. All of these belong to Sam. She’s the one getting all the challenges, not me.” he glanced down at his basket. “I think she named some of these.”

“It’s it a little unfair for a ghost to fight a human? That goes against the whole honourable and fair thing it seems to be going for.”

The half ghost grinned. “That’s what they think! Challenged gets to set the rules, and it turns out ghost knights are really, really bad at adjusting to ground only combat.”

Jazz blinked, the part that had been bothering her clicking into place. “Wait, so there’s that many because you’re still the newest knights?”

“Wasted every single challenger. I keep trying to convince them they’ll have a better shot against me, but noooo, they insist on trying to best the ‘breathing banshee’.” he shrugs. “Most of em would absolutely wreck me in a proper fight, I don’t usually need to fight ‘fair’ or anything.”

“So why don’t they go after Tucker? Getting all the way out here for a tradition can’t be easy.”

“He still insists he’s Friar Tuck. You don’t swordfight the clergy. None of them have actually called him on it, so maybe he is?” his brow furrowed, thinking on that. “Maybe I should ask Dora that sometime. Find out if we need to worry about some ghost pope later. Would not want to be the guy who punched the dragon queen’s ghost pope.”

Jazz couldn’t suppress a snort, easily able to picture such a mishap. “A year ago if you said that I’d say you should be committed. Now I’m just nodding along.”

“Even if you were saying it now, I’d get out.” A wicked grin accompanied a flash of green eyes.

“Very funny, dork.” Still, the idea was worth thinking about. “Well I can see why you wanted to try using them as proof.” The project was rather important to Danny, seeing as it was his best shot to get their parents to re-evaluate their ‘ghosts are mindless’ stance. “Maybe you could get Tucker to film a fight? Sam keeping ‘contaminated’ gloves wouldn’t seem that weird, and the variety can prove it’s not just one ghost mindlessly repeating the same behaviour.”

“I’d still be stuck explaining how Sam became ‘Sir Manson’ in the ghost zone. Which seems like a disaster waiting to happen.” his shoulders sagged. “They’ll think I made it up or Tucker did some video editing.”

“I still think it’s worth trying. Sam’s got a rich family, you could probably think up an excuse that she’s practically ‘royalty’ and that’s why they come.”

“Eh. Maybe. Don’t tell Sam but I’m giving the challengers tips now. The sooner they stop coming, the sooner I can stop getting all antsy about a ghost attack where I find out it’s another steel welding glove thrower.”

Jazz set her shoulders, determined to get some of that humour back in her dispirited sibling. “Use that. They owe you if you help them out, don’t they?”

“Well, I guess they do. Like I’ve had them tell me stories about what it’s like for them, if they remember stuff or have always been ghosts, they’re pretty chatty to a ‘fellow of the sword’...but it’s all stuff I write down. I can’t prove a ghost told me. I can’t film it, or have Dad listen in. The second they call me ‘Sir Phantom’ I’m toast.”

“He said he’d at least listen to what you found, right? It can be a starting point, and if you have some really specific detail it’s less likely that you made the whole thing up.” she stopped to ruffle his hair. “That, and if you were going to make something up, you’d have some star ghosts or ecto-aliens.”

“I would not!”

“Yes you would. And you’d draw them little space ships and everything.”

“...Okay maybe I’d make up some ships.”

“A lot of ships. With long complicated names. With scientific reasons for those names. Cus your my dorky little brother.”

“Well you’re my nagging big sister. You get to be the black hole equivalent.” 

“Just don’t give up on the idea so quickly, okay? It’s a good one, and it really can’t hurt too much to try.”

A small smile returned as he elbowed her “Careful, or they’ll think you’re being influenced by ghosts too.”

“It’s not like their theories can have any more concrete proof than yours does. What are they?”

“Dad thinks ectoplasm naturally ‘homes in’ on stuff over here, and that’s how they’re finding the portal.” he closes his eyes, foot kicking at the floor. “He’s got this box thing? A lot of box things with different kinds of ectoplasm to see if they move towards ‘our world’ over time. I keep forgetting it’s floating right next to the portal and almost kick it.” his face turns into a grimace. “Dad thinks ‘that ghost kid’ is messing with his experiment on purpose now, so that sucks.”

“Well you could mess with it on purpose, that would be intelligent.”

“Nope. That would be the ‘natural aggressive action’ towards human materials. Tried it.”

“What’s mom’s hypothesis then?”

“That the portal always being here makes this part of Earth more ectoplasm rich so they’re drawn to enter here instead.” he waves a hand. “She’s half right? I don’t think strong ghosts can go all that long without ducking back home to recharge. She’s using the frequency of ‘higher level’ ghosts as proof that they ‘need’ a certain level to function outside of the ghost zone.”

“Another theory you’re accidentally stomping all over.”

“Since they almost never spot ‘Phantom’ going back to the Zone, yeah. I apparently account for ninety four percent of all ghost sightings. Yet only three percent of that is being spotted outside of a fight. Which sounds really bad! No wonder they think I only think about fighting other ghosts.” he rubbed at the back of his head. “I think she plans to test that by uh. Sticking a ghost in a place with no ectoplasm to see how long they hold out, if at all. So I’ve kinda been...making sure she can’t do that.” he swallows, his glance towards his sister more timid than anything. “It'd be a really, really nasty way to die. From what I heard.”

“Good for you. She’ll thank you once you prove that sort of thing would be unethical.”

His frown didn’t move. “If I prove it. So far I’ve just proven they really don’t like that ghost kid.”

“From what I’ve heard you’re the one with the most solid proof. Once you’ve shown everything you’ve collected, then you could try convincing them to see for themselves you aren’t making it up.” Jazz urged, not wanting to watch her little brother give up again.

“Even if I could convince Dad to come in the specter speeder with me we’d scare most ghosts off. The ones we don’t might want to beat me up, or not use a name I can’t explain away.”

“Sam gets to set when one of those challenges happens right? Invite him to one of those.”

He blinked. “...I guess that might work. If Sam made it clear that they couldn’t say my name under any circumstances. There’s one lady who keeps coming, insists she’s going to be the one to get to succeed after ‘Slapping Sir Manson with her glove’, she might be down for that…” he caught the weird look Jazz was giving him. “Oh. Apparently if you’re rivals hitting the person with your glove is ‘provoking your betters’ into a fight? So it’s a respect thing? I don’t really get it. Sam thinks it’s great, which I didn’t see coming but I didn’t think we’d still be having ghost knight fights either.” he let out a breath. “I’m rambling again.”

“You know, if Mom and Dad could see how you talk about this stuff they’d know you aren’t making it up. Looks like ghost research does run in the family.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m a ghost hunter if anything. It’s just nice being able to chat instead of fight sometimes. The ghost zone is pretty neat. If you know, half the stuff in there wasn’t trying to skin me alive.”

“I still think you have a good shot. You know it’s true, so they’ll have to see it given enough time.”

“Maybe. Can’t really talk about this stuff to them though. Gee dad, how do I know about Frostbite? Well when I stole the Ecto-Skeleton and shoved back Pariah Dark this whole tribe of yetis decided I was their Great One. So now we’re pals. Oh what’s that dad, you say the ghost kid did that? Funny thing!” he dropped his arms with a scowl. “That’d go over like a lead balloon.”

“Maybe stick to the dragon queen society for now. It’s not like anyone over here saw that. Then you can expand into the rest of the friendly areas.” she put a hand on his shoulder. “One step at a time Danny, you’ll get there.”

“I hope so. If it doesn’t, I blame you if I’m torn molecule by molecule.”

“Ew Danny! Don’t be so morbid, it’s not good for your development.”

“Is it morbid if I’m dead?” he winced from his sister’s whack to the head. “Ow! Half!”

“Better. Now scram with all those gloves before someone thinks you robbed a ghost antique boutique.”

“You’re such a busybody Jazz.” the half ghost teased before darting off with his half spectral laundry. It wouldn’t be an easy thing to convince their parents, but he did seem to be on the right track. So of course it was her job to make sure he stuck to it. Siblings had to look out for each other, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[karihighman]

Two is Better Than One: another Upstead one-shot

Hailey thought she had hospitals handled. Besides, it was her that held Jay’s hand the first time he finally got the flu shot.

That was eventful, she thought to herself, thinking back to the morning almost two years ago. Jay was a wreck, complaining the whole way there and back as Voight made it a new requirement for their yearly physical. Hailey knew it was usually required period, so she didn’t know how Jay avoided getting it for so long — especially since his brother, Will, is a doctor at Chicago Med, of all places.

Close and easy. But no, not for Jay. Jay preferred to do things the hard way, which made things interesting for Hailey, though she was used to it by then.

About 6 months after that, Hailey had too much to drink at Molly’s and Jay drove her home. She thanked him for taking such good care of her. “You’re the best partner ever, I love you,” She had said before slowly closing her eyes.

Jay didn’t know what the hell to do with himself, but he knew he wasn’t gonna leave her alone. So, as she passed out in her bed, he camped out on her couch until morning. He even woke her up with the smell of fresh coffee.

“What? No breakfast too?” She quipped, coming out to her kitchen in an oversized shirt and pajama shorts. She must’ve changed, he thought to himself.

Her hair fell in very messy waves around her face, and even with the smudges of mascara underneath her eyelashes, Jay couldn’t help but think she was the most beautiful woman.

And that’s when he realized he loved her too.

It took him a week of semi-awkward surveillance nights and early morning coffee runs before he worked up the courage to invite her to his place. She figured it was just for one of their famous “things that worked,” as their caseload had been ridiculous.

It was. But it also set the stage for Jay’s confession, err, confessions, as he fessed up to Hailey that he never stopped thinking about her slurred words from the week prior.

A very much sober Hailey told him for real that she meant every word, and a very sober Jay repeated those 3 little words back to her. Their whiskey and tequila laid untouched that whole night on his countertop.

They were safe every single night they’d been together. Well, Hailey remembered, except for at Adam and Kim’s wedding.

Oops. In her defense though, they were in Aspen, it was gorgeous, and where else were you supposed to have crazy, over-the-top sex?

That was 2 months ago, and they’d been so busy with work that they barely had time for date nights, let alone time in the bedroom.

They maybe spent 2 nights together since the wedding, one of which they actually just fell asleep on his couch after talking, and the other they both passed out after a night of karaoke with Kevin and Vanessa.

She sighed, as Natalie Manning’s voice brought her back to the present moment, aka: the reason why she was standing in Gaffney Medical Center in the first place. She’d been chasing a suspect when he clocked her on the head with a crowbar.

She had told Jay to go, that she’d be fine as she found her way back to her feet. But, when she faltered a second later, he insisted she go to Med.

She was just thankful Voight forced him to do his statement and finish his paperwork on the incident right then, so he had to duck out of the hospital early.

Will had assured him she’d be fine, if anything she had a concussion. But, upon further inspection, she did have a laceration on her forehead. He gave her a tetanus shot, and pulled her medical chart just to make sure she was up to date on everything else.

When he noticed her oxygen level was low, he consulted Natalie. He wasn’t sure why, since she was perfectly healthy. She countered that maybe he read it wrong, that it was her iron levels. Either way, she ordered a blood draw.

And what she discovered made her stand in front of Hailey as opposed to Will. Natalie white lied and said it was a female issue she needed to discuss with Hailey, she just didn’t tell Will what kind of feminine issue.

“Hailey?” She asked the blonde that sat in front of her.

“Yeah?”

“Have you been feeling lightheaded, nauseous, or anything like that lately?”

“You mean aside from today thanks to my pounding headache?” She tried to joke, but stopped after she saw Natalie’s face didn’t change.

“Yeah, I mean aside from that.”

“Yeah, a few times. But we’ve been working crazy hours trying to catch that burglary crew, which is why I was so pissed off I let the one guy get the jump on me—“

“Hailey,” Natalie said firmly, making the detective go silent.

“You’re pregnant.”

Hailey was shocked. She always, in the very back of her mind, wondered, but she just figured it wouldn’t happen to her. Not like that, anyway.

“Does Jay know?”

“Does Jay know?!” She scoffed, running a hand through her damp hair as Will had to clean her scalp free of any debris from the pipe. “I didn’t even know until five seconds ago! I mean, I suppose I did know...I had this gut feeling, but I brushed it off.”

Natalie sighed, looking down for a moment. “So, you haven’t told him, have you? Or talked to him at all about the possibility?”

Hailey stayed silent, too embarrassed to have been so stupid. She was a cop, for god sake. She should’ve known better, been better.

Natalie looked back up at Hailey, a twinge of solemness in her eyes. “Do you even know if he wants kids?”

Hailey nodded. “He does, I mean, we haven’t talked about it in a formal manner, but I remember he told me at Kim and Adam’s wedding that he wanted this, the whole nine yards. And he grabbed my hand and looked at me like I was the most special thing in the world and was like, ‘and you’re the one I want that with.’ It was the sweetest thing,” she said, getting emotional over it now with the new meaning it held.

Natalie smiled. “See, he just wants the best for you. And I’m sure he wants what’s best for you too. Which means you can’t be so reckless anymore. You could have lost the baby.”

Hailey nodded, realizing she wasn’t just caring for her own life anymore. “I know.”

Natalie added, “And Jay deserves to know, too, Hailey.”

She nodded again, giving Natalie a small, slightly sad smile. She had no idea how on earth she was going to tell her boyfriend that their world was going to change. But, they’d made it through so much together, she knew she had to try.

So, that night when Jay picked her up from the hospital — Will, still clueless as ever to whatever female issue Natalie had talked to Hailey about, told Jay that they were just “finishing up their girl talk.” Natalie had nodded and said Hailey was good to go — she knew she wanted to tell him.

He was walking her up to her door and had helped her inside to her sofa when she asked him if he could sit with her.

“Of course,” he had said, asking her if she wanted anything to eat or drink first.

She shook her head no, but told him she did have something she needed to say.

He got serious, an adorable crease in his forehead taking shape as his brows furrowed in concern.

“What is it, Hails?”

“I—“ she sucked in some much needed air, willing herself to push through.

“Jay,” she tried again. “I’m pregnant.”

He was speechless. And Hailey opened her mouth to tell him anything, like she didn’t mean for it to happen (she really didn’t), or that she didn’t mean to spring this on him (she really hadn’t)...when she realized Jay’s eyes were teary.

“Jay?” She whispered, feeling tears well up in her eyes too.

He just took her hands in his, and looked deeply into her eyes. “Hailey, I love you. So so much. And I’m gonna love our baby just the same. I just— wow, I know it’s not something we planned, but after everything we’ve been through, it just seems like the perfect little miracle, doesn’t it?”

She sniffled, laughing lightly. “Yeah, it sure does.”

She leaned forward and kissed him, Jay kissing her back with just as much softness. He released one of her hands, and he put his on her stomach. Hailey laughed, knowing she definitely wasn’t showing right now.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m just trying to suss out whether it’s gonna be a boy or a girl” he said excitedly.

“Jay, we can’t tell the sex for months! Plus, I already know you want a boy.”

He looked at her, his forehead creasing once again.

So, she continued. “Don’t you? That way Owen would have a playmate, you could teach him all the sports trivia or to love that damn truck as much as you do, or—“

She paused mid sentence when he vehemently shook his head, disagreeing with her sentiment.

She was shocked. “Wait. You’re actually okay with a girl?”

He smiled, pulling her intertwined hand in his down to her stomach. “Yeah, I am. Because she’ll be just like her mom. Brilliant, brave, and beautiful.”

Hailey knew a few tears slipped down her cheeks that time. “Really?”

“Yes really.” Jay said, smiling earnestly. He brushed her tears away with his thumb. “Plus, I can scare all her future boyfriends away by putting them in the cage or showing up with a shotgun.” He broke into one of those boyish grins that made Hailey roll her eyes.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” She said, trying to stay a tiny bit annoyed.

“Yeah, I know. But I also know that you love me anyway. And I love you—“ he paused, leaning down to talk to her belly. “And whatever this little one turns out to be, a whole hell of a lot.”

“Heck, Jay, language!”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever you say, Hailey Anne.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You love me anyway.”

Yeah, that he did. And she just the same.

____

*original prompt by @upsteadlover on Twitter; request made by @onechicagofam_ on Twitter; photos of Natalie & Hailey w/in prompt tweet by @onechicagoedits on Twitter; gif by @xofeno (: // words by me, of course*

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Two for One

Fandom: Marvel (Professor AU/College AU)

Pairing: Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: Ever since you became the TA for Professor Romanoff, you’ve been seeing a lot of Professors Rogers and Barnes. They seem to be attracted to you, but you have a hard time deciding between the two. What do you do?

Warning: smut - bjs, threesome, semi-public…just a whole lot of naughty mk?

A/N: based off of this post and my tags in it. also, word count is about 4.1k. so yall better appreciate this and the struggle i went through to write this (i’m looking at you @chloerinebarnes )

Steve was sure that if Bucky bit his lip any further, he’d draw blood. He nudged his boyfriend with his elbow, gaining his attention back, “Cool it with the staring and lip biting. You’ll scare her off.”

Bucky groaned, “She’s killin’ me with those jeans, babe.”

Steve snorted, “Tell me about it,” he murmured as his eyes went back to across the lounge. You were standing off to the side, speaking with Professor Romanoff, the teacher you were a TA for. You were nodding to everything that she was listing off for you to do. After handing you a stack of papers, you saw yourself out of the lounge. Bucky and Steve’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. 

Ever since you became Professor Romanoff, aka Natasha’s, TA, Steve and Bucky have been seeing you more and more. Not that they minded. You were beautiful, funny, and smart. Honestly, you were the missing puzzle piece in their life. 

Don’t get it wrong, Steve and Bucky were completely devoted to each other. But for the past few years, they’ve been feeling like they were missing something. And they believe that something is you. 

But how does one go about proposing a polyamorous relationship? You don’t. It’s not a very common thing and it’s not accepted in a lot of places. Nonetheless, Steve and Bucky adored you from the moment they met you. 

So, they hatched a plan. They would worm their way into your heart individually and when it came to the point where you “have to choose”, they’ll give you the other option: a two for one deal. 

_________________________

You’re in the school cafe, a pile of papers off to the side that you’re making your way through. You suddenly feel a presence looming over you and you look up to see Professor Barnes. 

You give him a polite smile, “Hey there, professor! How’s it going?”

“Monday mornings were never my thing hence,” he gestured to his large coffee cup.

You snorted, “Tell me about it,” you pointed to your own, “This is my third one already.”

“Mind if I sit?” he points to the seat across from you.

You shook your head, “Not at all!” you move your things around to give him a little bit more space, “Enjoy your weekend?”

He shrugged, “Just stayed home, watched some Netflix, graded papers. The usual.”

You nodded, “That’s become my usual now too. Although, yesterday my friends Pietro and Wanda dragged me out of the apartment to go to a bar. Gonna be honest, had a bit too much.”

“That explains the coffee and you still grading papers that are probably due today.”

You sighed, “Yeeeaahhh. Never listening to the twins again,” you said with a snort. 

“I wish I could help. Russian Literature was my minor. But I’m sure if Nat found out, she’d have both our heads.”

“Definitely. Romanoff’s great, but, damn, does she terrify me!”

Barnes snorted, “Same here.” he stood up and grabbed his coffee, “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Professor Barnes!”

He smiled down at you, and with a wink, he said, “Call me Bucky,” and he waltzed out of the cafe like it was nothing. And you hated to admit that that little gesture made your cheeks heat up and make your panties slightly damp.

___________________

You were struggling with holding the pile of graded papers in your arms and trying to get your notebook out for Romanoff’s class. Just when you thought you had it, all the papers tumbled forward onto the ground. You groaned and hung your head back, staring up at the sky asking, “Why me?”

You bent down and began to collect the papers, and then another pair of hands came into view. You tried to object, “It’s okay! I got-” when you looked up, staring back at you was he striking blue eyes of Professor Rogers, “I-I got it, Professor Rogers,” you stammered as you quickly collected the essays.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind helping,” he said with a shy smile, grabbing the leftover papers and handing them to you. You both stood up and awkwardly stood there, “So, uh, headed to Nat’s-I mean, Romanoff’s office?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Gotta turn in all these papers I graded.” you gestured to the pile that was back in your hands. 

“Oh, well, my office is in the same direction. I’ll accompany you.”

You two walked together, towards the Literature and History building, “So, uh, how was your weekend?”

“Oh, uh, pretty bland, honestly. Just hanging out and grading papers. What about you? Did you spend your weekend grading all of these?” he points to your pile.

“Sorta,” you answered, “I got most of them done. Then I went out last night. Got drunk and never finished the rest. I just finished up in the cafe. Professor Barnes was actually there too. Surprised you weren’t with him. You two are usually attached to the hip,” you say teasingly.

Rogers snorted, “Please, I couldn’t shake ‘im even if I tried. We actually live together. We see a lot of each other and you would think we’d get sick of each other. But we don’t.”

“That’s good. I love Pietro and Wanda, but, God, I don’t think I can spend every second of the day with them.”

He chuckled, “Guess you just gotta find the right people that’ll make you want to see them all the time.”

Soon enough, you were in the building, standing in front of Professor Romanoff’s office, “Well, here’s my stop,” you say.

“Yeah. Anyway, I hope you have a good rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Professor Rogers. You too!”

“Please, call me, Steve,” he says with a grin and then turns around, heading for his office in the other direction.

___________________

Bucky is eating lunch in Steve’s office. Steve is typing away at his computer, occasionally pausing when Bucky feeds him a forkful of penne pasta into his mouth. 

“So, progress?” Bucky asks, his own mouth full of pasta. 

Steve chews a few more times before swallowing. He takes off his glasses and sets them onto his desk, “Told her to call me Steve after I helped pick up her papers that she dropped and accompanied her on the way to Nat’s office. She said she came from the cafe and you were there?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Grabbed some coffee, sat with her and chatted a little bit. When I left, I told her to call me Bucky. You still think we should do this?”

“I really like her, Buck. I just-don’t you feel it? That spark with her?” when Bucky nodded, Steve continued, “Then can you imagine how it would be if all of us were together?”

“It’d be like nothing we’ve ever felt before,” Bucky murmured.

“Exactly. We gotta try, but we can’t be too overbearing. She’s gotta be the one.”

Bucky set down his tupperware of pasta and rest his hand on Steve’s, “She’s out missing puzzle piece.”

___________________

You sat in the lounge next to Professor Romanoff, or Nat, as she’s allowed you to call her. You’re both going over test grades and that’s when you hear the screeching of wood against the floor and then you look up to see Bucky and Steve settling across the table from you.

Your eyes brighten and a smile appears on your face, “Hey, Bucky! Hey, Steve!”

Big grins appear on their faces when you acknowledge, “Hey, doll,” Bucky says, and you feel your cheeks heating up. 

You duck your head down, biting your lip and continuing to grade papers. You hoped that Nat ignored that interaction, but she didn’t. While you continued to grade papers, Nat gave questioning looks to the professors across from her. Both gave her shrugs and pulled out their own work that needed to be done. 

Words started to blur as your eyes skimmed through another test, your red pen marking wrong answers. You could feel yourself getting a headache so you groaned and fell back into your seat, “I need a break. I’m gonna walk to the cafe. Do you guys want anything?” Nat and Bucky shook their head but Steve stood up.

“I’ll go with you. I think I need to stretch my legs anyway.” he turns to Bucky and gives him a nod, and then follows you out of the lounge. After you both leave, Nat turns to Bucky.

“What the hell are you guys up to?”

“Steve and I both like Y/N, so we’re trying to ease our way into her heart and possibly propose a poly relationship.”

Nat groaned, “Jesus Christ. You know what happened the last time you tried that. You and Steve ended up heartbroken and nearly broke up because of it.”

“Dot wasn’t right for us,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, “But Y/N’s different. You know she is, Nat.”

“Maybe so, but then again, you hardly know her.”

“And that’s why we’re trying to spend as much time as we can to get to know her.”

Nat shook her head, “You’re playing a dangerous game. She’s a student.”

“She’s graduating this year. Once she’s graduated, then Steve and I will ask. Trust us, Nat. We learned from the last time and we know what we’re doing now.”

____________________

“So, the semester is half way over and you’ll be graduating soon. Have any plans on what to do?” Steve asked, his hands curled up in his pockets. 

“Travel. Find a job. Maybe find some love on the way. I don’t know.”

“Not looking for love right now?” he asked with a teasing smirk. 

You shrugged, “Oh trust me, I’ve been looking. Just haven’t found anyone that clicks with me, ya know? Someone funny, smart, compassionate, independent. Oh and knows how to cook. It’s surprising how many people here barely know how to cook.”

Steve snorted, “Bucky loves to cook. He cooks our meals all the time. I know how to cook too, but for Bucky, it’s his stress reliever. He’s in his element when he cooks, plus everything is delicious when he makes it.”

“I’d love to try something other than ramen and burgers.”

“I’ll bring you some tomorrow. Buck loves to cook for other people so it won’t be a problem.”

You shook your head, “I can’t ask you guys to do that. You don’t have-”

“You’re not askin’, sweetheart. Plus, we want to do this. Trust me.”

You sighed, “Fine.”

Steve was beaming right then and there, “Great. Do you have any food preferences?”

“Surprise me.”

_____________________

It became a regular thing after that. You and Nat would be in the lounge going over lecture notes or grading papers. Steve and Bucky would appear and slide over some tupperware for lunch that Bucky had prepared for you. At one point, they started bringing some food for Nat too since she complained about them not bringing food for her. Plus, they didn’t want to seem too suspicious. 

As the semester progressed, you found yourself in the company of Steve and Bucky often. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes it was one or the other. You’d have lunch with them, walk with them to class or the office building. Relax under some trees while you graded papers. You also ended up getting both of their numbers and all three of you would be in a group chat texting away or texting to either men individually. 

You were around them a lot and you couldn’t help the feelings you were starting to develop for both them. It was conflicting. Very much so. You were a student and they were professors. 

It was a month before the semester ended, before you graduated, and you’d had enough. Enough of the feelings and the confusion. It had to stop!

So you burst into Bucky’s office where you knew both men would be. As soon as you step into the room, you freeze. There right before was Steve and Bucky, but they were tangled up in each other, making out. 

“I’m so confused,” you murmured as they stared at you wide-eyed. 

“Doll, I-we-”

“I-I should go. Sorry. I didn’t-I’m gonna-” 

You turn to leave but Steve cried outs, “Y/N, wait!” and you stop. You look at them and they’re staring at you with pleading eyes, “Sweetheart, please, don’t leave. Just-Just close the door and we’ll explain everything.”

Slowly, you move back inside, closing the door behind you. You sit at the chair across from Bucky’s desk. Bucky sits back down into his seat and Steve stands off to the side, running his hand through his disheveled hair. 

“Are-Are you guys together?” you ask apprehensively. When both men nod, you let out a shaky breath, “I-I don’t understand. Both of you made it seem like you were interested in me. Were you just toying with me? Is that it?!”

“No!” both said unison. 

Steve cleared his throat, “It’s nothin’ like that, Y/N. We swear. We-Bucky and I, we’ve been together for a long time. We love each other a lot, but-”

Bucky interjected, “But we feel like we’ve been missing something. And we think that something is you.”

You became even more confused, “But you’re together already. How would that even work?”

“A polyamorous relationship. The three of us can be together. Bucky and I have strong feelings for you, Y/N.���

You shook your head, “This can’t happen,” and suddenly, it felt like Bucky and Steve’s hearts were breaking all over again, but then you continued, “I’m still a student and you’re professors. If this got out, I’d be expelled and you two would be fired. I-” you take a moment to let out a deep breath, “It’s funny. I was coming here to tell you that I can’t choose between you two. I have feelings for both of you, so I was just-I don’t know-take myself out of the equation.”

“But you don’t have to, doll,” Bucky says with a hopeful gaze.

Steve rest his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to prevent him from getting ahead of yourself, “But we understand your reasoning why you don’t want to be with us.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to be with you. I said I can’t right now.” that made both men’s ears perk, “I’m graduating next month. We can put all of this on hold for now and once I’m outta here then...”

“We can wait!” Bucky said all too enthusiastically, which made Steve chuckle.

Steve’s hand moved from Bucky’s shoulder, down his arm and to his hand where they laced fingers, “We’re willing to wait for you, sweetheart. You’re worth it.”

You moved around the desk and to the two men, grabbing each of their hands in yours, “Thank you. You guys mean a lot to me,” you leaned in and pecked the cheeks of each men, “I’ll see you guys soon,” and then you were out of Bucky’s office. The end of next month couldn’t come any sooner. 

__________________

“Y/N L/N!” your name was called as you walked across the stage, shaking the dean’s hand, and accepting your diploma. Cheers from your loved ones and peers brought a huge smile to your face. You walked down the steps dancing on your way back to your seat, your classmates buzzing all around you. 

After everyone’s name was called, the dean stood up the podium to give final remarks and the changing of the tassels, “Now, everyone, I present to you the Class of 2020!” everyone cheered as caps went flying into the air. You hugged the people around you, and waited for your family and friends to meet you on the field. In the meantime..

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Bucky cried out as he gave you a big ol’ hug. Steve stood behind him, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

“Congrats, Y/N,” Steve gave you a hug, nothing to make anyone suspicious.

You were beaming at them, “Thanks you guys. I can’t believe it. I graduated!”

Bucky was ready to ask you out right then and there, but stopped when he saw your family approaching. He and Steve stepped aside to allow you some time with your loved ones. They mouthed, “See you later,” and both walked away to congratulate other students. 

You watched as they departed. A part of you wanted to chase after them and kiss them both then and there, but that would stir something up and you didn’t want any trouble on this momentous day. Soon, Y/N. Soon. 

The day after graduation was when you were to pick up your official diploma. You knew from the group chat that Steve and Bucky would be on campus, due to finishing up finals. And after you picked up your diploma, you wanted to go see them. 

With diploma in hand, you approached the office building, sending off texts to the men:

You: whatcha up to?

Bucky: grading finals in Steve’s office

You: can I stop by?

Steve: of course ;)

Bucky: BRING COFFEE!

You giggled, knowing how predictable Bucky was, two cups of coffee with you already. You approached Steve’s office, knocking on the slightly ajar door, “May I enter?”

The door swung wide open, and Bucky immediately pulled you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. You snorted, “Wow, eager mu-mmf!” you couldn’t finish the teasing retory as a pair of lips matched up with yours, hands cupping your face. 

You heard a chuckle from behind you, “Buck, careful, you’re gonna make her spill the coffee she got for us.” He went over and grabbed the coffee tray from your hands.

You pulled away, mumbling, “Thank you,” to him and then looking back at Bucky who sported a dopey grin on his face, “How long were you waiting to do that?”

“So fucking long,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to yours once more, but it was brief since you pulled away.

“Hey now, two kisses and Steve hasn’t even gotten any from me yet. You’re starting to get greedy, mister.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed and he ducked his head down shyly, “Sorry, doll,” he then moved aside for Steve. 

Steve pulled you in, wrapping an arm around you and slowly leaning in. His lips were hovering over yours and right as you were about to tell him to hurry up, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your skin as he held onto you for dear life. For so long him and Bucky have wanted you like this and he feels like if he lets go, if he pulls away, it’ll all be a dream. 

Steve began to walk you backwards until your backside hit the edge of his desk. You pulled away to look at the two men, whose soft gazes faded and turned into lustful ones. 

You smirked, “I’ve always fantasized about being fucked on a desk.”

Both men growled as they started to undo their pants. Steve pressed you up against the desk, kissing you heatedly, while Bucky began to remove things from the surface. You hopped onto it after receiving the okay from Bucky. Steve worked on getting your jeans off while Bucky pulled of your shirt. Clothes flew around the room with no care where they landed. 

“Ah fuck, baby doll. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky moaned, his hand slowly pumping his cock and the other kneading your breast. 

You laid across the surface, opening your mouth, welcoming Bucky’s length. You both moaned when his dick entered your mouth. Bucky thrust his hips back and forth, loving how you looked taking his cock. 

Meanwhile, Steve was paying special attention to your pussy. He licked a strip up your slit, tongue circling around your clit. When you moaned a little too loud, Steve pulled away, “Quiet now, honey. Someone might here your pretty little noises and those are for our ears only.”

Bucky pulled out of your mouth for you to reply, “Sorry, Steve.”

“How wet is she, Stevie?” Bucky asked through his panting.

Steve licked his lips, “So fucking wet and she’s so sweet,” he murmured before slurping up some of your juices. 

Bucky whined, “Lemme taste.” Steve then stood up and leaned over the desk, pulling Bucky towards him, Lips smashing against lips. You wished you could’ve seen the two men swapping your taste, but the view was blocked by Bucky’s body leaning over yours. 

When they pulled away Steve cleared his throat, looking from you to Bucky, “So, how’s this gonna go: i fuck her pussy while you get her mouth, or vice versa?”

You shook your head, “No, I wanna feel you both at the same time.”

Both men moaned at the thought of both of their cocks filling you up to the brim. Steve nodded, “Very well. Bucky, on the table. Sweetheart, straddle Bucky.” Both you and Bucky did as you were told while Steve pulled out a bottle of lube from a drawer. 

You gave him a questioning look and Bucky chuckled, “This isn’t the first time we’ve fucked in this office, doll.” And just the image of Bucky and Steve fucking in this office made you even more wet than before. 

Steve, with his cock lubed up, knelt behind you and in-between Bucky’s legs, “You ready for us, babygirl?”

“I’ve literally been waiting all semester for this, Steve. Now hurry up and fuck me.”

Both men snickered at your haste, “Gotta give our girl what she wants,” Bucky mumbled as he lined himself up with you and you lowered yourself onto him. Steve was right behind you, pushing you forward and slowly easing himself into not wanting to hurt you. Moments pass they’re both inside you and, holy shit, this is something you’ve never felt before.

Both men stay still as they let you set the pace. You rock your body back and forth, allowing both cocks to drag themselves in and out of you. Seriously, the feeling was something unworldly. What made it ever better was Bucky’s lips on your chest and Steve’s hand working your clit. These men both knew what they were doing. 

“So fucking sexy, sweetheart, taking our cocks at the same time,” Steve murmured into your neck, “You love this, don’t you? Love being filled to the brim.”

Bucky bit at your skin, making you hiss, to which he mumbled, “Answer him, babydoll.”

“Yes, Steve. Love your cocks filling me whole,” you gasped when Bucky’s cock just hit that spot that made you shudder. With the way things were going, you knew you were gonna be cumming soon. 

“Wanna make a mess outta you, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, lips still wandering over your neck and chest, “Wanna fill you with our cum, paint you with it. Mark you as ours.”

“I’m yours,” you panted out, “I’m all yours,” you moved your body faster, desperate for your release. 

“Go ahead, baby, cum on our cocks. We wanna feel ya,” Steve mumbled in your ear, his hand working faster on your clit. You dug your nails into Bucky’s chest, a pain he happily welcomed. 

“Come on, baby. Give it us. You can do it,” Bucky encouraged you, slapping your ass and kneading the flesh. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you said through gritted teeth. A powerful wave of pleasure washed over you as leaned down, resting your head against Bucky’s while you came.

“So pretty when you cum,” he whispered.

“Such a good girl,” Steve murmured, kissing your back and shoulders. You moved a bit and felt something wet. You sat up and looked down to see that you just squirted all over you and Bucky.

“Oh shit. I’ve never done that before,” you murmured.

Bucky snickered, “First time for everything,” he said with a wink. 

You then moved off his lap, “Well, lemme clean this up for you since it is my mess.” Both men hissed when your hands wrapped around both their lengths, your mouth gliding over Bucky’s stomach and pelvis, collecting your own juices. 

“Oh my God, you’re perfect,” he moaned, his hand grabbing your head and trying to push it towards his cock.

You slapped his hand away, “I already sucked you off, babe. Now it’s Steve’s turn,” you said with a smirk. You gave a wink to the blonde as your mouth lowered onto his dick. Bucky was right, you are perfect. And you’re theirs. All theirs.

[dreamingabouthendery]

Soarin’ (m)

pairing: jaemin x reader

au: disneyland worker!jaemin and reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 6.4k

warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of drugs (you’ll see), descriptions of sick? slight tainting of childhood (not enough to scar), controversial opinions (but not literally), unfunny humour

specific smut warnings (in case you dont want spoilers): fingering, blowjob, unprotected sex (but assume character is on the pill), semi-public sex?

summary: You have worked at Disneyland since the first year of uni, which has all but destroyed your ideals of magic. But when a new boy becomes the Mickey to your Minnie, you can’t help but find yourself intrigued by the bright-eyed newbie. Maybe Disneyland is magic, afterall. (this sucks im so sorry)

very, very heavily inspired by this thread on reddit. also, i hope you enjoy! any feedback will be much appreciated (this is my first fic as im sure youll be able to tell)

Ah, Disneyland, ‘The Happiest Place on Earth’. If you’re a child, that is. Not only can you meet your favorite characters who are probably doing lines in the back between rounds, but you have the honour of being able to watch them dangle helplessly from a wire during the firework display and narrowly avoid death. It’s no wonder you’ve been working there since your first year of uni.

‘Johnny told me there’s a new Mickey coming today.’ Eva, Princess Tiana and, quite frankly, the only decent princess in the whole park, says. She’s currently struggling to pull the long, white gloves over her own blue plastic pair of gloves she puts on for ‘safety reasons’ - her words, not yours. Though, it’s not like you can blame her when the outfits only get washed...well, never.

The two of you are currently the only two in the spacious dressing room which is permanently accompanied by the stench of sweat clinging to the walls, especially since it’s summer.

‘Oh, really?’ You ask from in front of her on the worn wooden bench, pulling your clunky yellow shoes on that dwarf your feet in their enormous size. It took you months to be able to walk in them without constantly tripping. Thankfully, it seems they at least got a wash after being puked on a few days ago.

She nods, moving towards the vanity and smoothing down a stray hair. ‘I know, it didn't take them long. Poor Jeremy, though.’

You hum in agreement. Jeremy ran into some trouble whilst covering a shift for the Donald Duck regular, resulting in a few broken ribs, a black eye and a dislocated shoulder. Or so the NDA requires you to say, anyway. Needless to say he quit on the spot.

‘____?’ You turn and see Johnny, your manager, making his way over to you with a cute guy in tow. ‘This is Jaemin. Jaemin, this is ____. He’s the new weekend Mickey regular. I need you to show him around Toontown discreetly,’ He gives you a pointed look to remind you that your characters aren’t supposed to talk. ‘And then you can camp out in Mickey’s House until the attractions close.’

You smile at Jaemin and he smiles back sheepishly as Johnny walks away without another word. Jaemin has arguably the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen, accompanied by the prettiest lips and the prettiest - is that too many ‘pretty’s? -  twinkling eyes and you can wholeheartedly say you have no problem showing him around ‘discreetly’.

‘Hi, Jaemin.’ You say, suddenly aware of your current state of half-dress with your suit still unzipped and bunched around your waist. You catch him glancing at your exposed top-half and quickly zip up the back before clearing your throat and gesturing towards the locker opposite yours. ‘Mickey’s suit is usually kept in there.’

‘Uh, thanks.’ He turns quickly before looking back at you, clearly not wanting to ask you to leave but not wanting to change in front of you.

‘Meet you outside?’ You take the hint and stand up, grabbing Minnie’s head and placing it over your own.

He nods gratefully and you leave.

‘You’ll have to get used to that, you know.’ You say quietly as he joins you. For a late Saturday afternoon in the summer, the park isn’t as busy as usual; only the occasional family loiters in Toontown, though in the distance you can see the beginnings of a crowd forming in front of Sleeping Beauty’s castle in preparation for the fireworks as the sun begins to set.

‘Used to what?’

‘To seeing other cast members undressed and to them seeing you undressed.’ You say simply, waving to a child with a short brown bob and bucket hat that’s walking towards you as you head slowly from the staff area towards Goofy’s Playhouse. The child stops and asks both of you for your autographs, something that every Disney cast member has to perfect before they get to wear their suit.

‘Right,’ He mutters when she leaves. ‘What happened to the guy before me?’

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, momentarily forgetting you can’t see his face. ‘What’ve you heard?’

‘Nothing, why?’

You sigh. ‘He was jumped by some asshole teenagers. You don’t need to worry, though,’ You add quickly at his sharp intake of breath. ‘You aren’t dressed as Donald Duck so you should be fine.’ You joke.

He laughs slightly at that. ‘Who thought dressing up as a kids’ character could be so dangerous?’

‘Oh, you have no idea.’ You laugh, a little too loudly, drawing more attention to yourself than usual but automatically correct your pitch to match Minnie Mouse’s. You wave at the kids that turn to look at you and they hurry over, asking to take pictures. After they run back to their parents, you turn to Jaemin and ask, ‘So, why did you apply for the job?’

‘Wow, it’s like a second interview.’ You shake your head, mumbling a quick apology. ‘I’ve never actually been to Disneyland before, and you know,’ He gestures his hand aimlessly. ‘This is supposed to be The Most Magical Place on Earth’ - he quotes - ‘so, I guess I wanted to experience the magic firsthand.’

‘That’s Magic Kingdom.’ You correct automatically.

‘Huh?’

‘That’s Magic Kingdom’s motto. Ours is ‘The Happiest Place on Earth’.’

‘Huh. I guess there is a difference, then.’

‘Of course there’s a difference. Magic Kingdom isn’t nearly as good as Disneyland.’ You say simply.

Jaemin snorts. ‘I’m sorry I offended you.’

‘Anyway,’ You say, ‘If you’re looking for a magical experience, you’re coming at it from the wrong angle.’

‘Exactly how bad is it to work here?’ He questions, though you can hear a hint of amusement in his tone.

‘The best I can give you is unforgettable.’ You would explain to him the number of times you’ve caught both members of the public and workers having sex in various places including on various rides, and how Haunted Mansion is notorious for having people leave their loved one’s ashes in it despite the fact they just get vaccumed up, but it’s only his first day and you don’t want to scare him off.

‘Gotcha.’ He merely says and you continue on to show him the Chip ‘n’ Dale Treehouse, your favorite place in Toontown. At night, the treehouse is lit in such a way as to make it whimsical, the ragged branches no longer menacing as they are during the daytime. You can’t complain at the fact that it’s quiet due to the fact that most people overlook it, either, instead mistaking it as decoration and not an actual attraction that you can go in.

This makes it the perfect place to hide out in the nighttime, when people are busy with the most popular attractions and has made it sort of an escape to you. Well, that and it’s given you a bad back.

You pause in front of Mickey’s House. ‘This is your crib,’ you joke. ‘Are you ready for your first official shift?’ You say, feigning drama in your tone.

‘Oh, gee, Minnie, I sure am!’ He replies in Mickey’s tone, emulating it perfectly and making both of you crack up.

‘I have to warn you, though, expect your arm to go dead within the first few minutes from all the waving.’

‘Noted. This job isn’t going to give me carpal tunnel syndrome, is it?’ He asks, only half serious.

‘No, but it may make you hate kids.’

He chokes, but before he can say anything in reply, a small boy who looks about four illustrates your point by pulling down his denim shorts and taking a dump right on the tarmac next to the hideous grey mouse-shaped letterbox.

You can read Jaemin’s horror in his speechlessness as you merely sigh and pull out your radio to call in, ‘We have a code Pooh outside Mickey’s House, over.’

As you walk in your front door to your shared apartment with your roommate, Ailee, you catch her and her boyfriend, Sam, making out on the couch in the living room. You two met in the first week of uni when you both ended up at some frat party that you hated and hit it off.

‘Ew, gross, guys. You have a bedroom, you know.’ You say, throwing your bag on the coffee table and slumping down on the couch next to them, sinking into the plush white cushions.

Ailee merely throws her head back and laughs before saying, ‘Tell me all about it.’

You frown. ‘About what?’

She tuts at you impatiently. ‘Work, duh. Everyday you come home it’s been a bad day,’ She plays with a few strands of your hair comfortingly. ‘So, tell me about it.’

You scrunch your nose up. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary happened.’ You say simply, looking at your nails.

Sam laughs. ‘Even I know you look at your nails when you’re lying, ____.’

Your mouth falls open in shock, offended. ‘I do not.’ You insist and scowl internally.

‘You do,’ Ailee agrees. ‘But it’s okay, that doesn’t matter right now. What’s the juicy story for today?’

You roll your eyes. ‘I’m glad my misery is so entertaining. The only thing that’s different is that there’s a new weekend Mickey regular.’

Ailee and Sam share a pointed look. ‘And?’ She asks, drawing out the syllable.

‘And he’s cute. I guess.’ You add as an afterthought.

Ailee snorts. ‘You guess?’

You groan. ‘Okay, he’s cute, period.’ You concede.

‘So, ask him out.’

‘Can’t. It’s against the rules.’ You mumble.

She gives you an exasperated look. ‘____, sweetie, you’re the most lax person with a job still in the whole park. What’s one date to you that nobody knows about?’

You bite your lip. She does have a point. You think about how cute Jaemin was when he was nervous to greet the kids at the House and hide your grin.

‘She’d have to actually see him again, though, right?’ Sam interjects, interrupting your daydream.

‘Sam, don’t be such a Debby downer.’ Ailee whines.

Whilst it’s true that cast members in a couple usually split up, you doubt they would make Jaemin do his second shift on his own. Resolving to pluck up the courage to ask him out, you go to bed that night apprehensive about the following day.

Apparently God is punishing you for some unknown reason, because you don’t see Jaemin at all that day, or the week after. In fact, you don’t even catch a glimpse of him or the big round ears that are telling of Mickey’s character.

Eve informs you that Johnny teamed him up with Goofy for ‘variety’, meanwhile you’re being sent over to Soarin’ in Grizzly Peak, the most boring area in the whole park due to its unpopularity. You can’t help but worry slightly about Jaemin, though, thinking of the previous time you saw Daniel, Goofy’s actor, when he pulled a flask from seemingly nowhere inside his costume and took a long, deep drink before heading back out, slightly stumbling.

Before you step out, Bella, the girl who plays Cinderella (no, the irony is not lost on you), stops you and says, ‘Oh, ____, I heard the new Mickey Mouse arrived yesterday. Fingers crossed you don’t scare him into quitting, too.’ Ever since you auditioned for the part of Cinderella and lost it to her, Bella has taken to rubbing your inferiority in your face every chance she gets.

You roll your eyes and Eve says back, ‘Oh, fuck off, Bella,’ She turns to you. ‘She’s just jealous ‘cause she thinks he’s cute and he hasn’t even acknowledged her yet.’

You snort as Bella narrows her eyes and stomps away as best she can in her flimsy costume heels.

‘He was asking after you when he came in earlier, you know.’ Eve says.

‘Jaemin was?’

She hums before saying, ‘He looked so disappointed to be paired up with Goofy.’

You feel the blood rushing to your face as you smile. ‘Really?’

Eve looks at you knowingly. ‘Yep, said he wanted to thank you for being so understanding yesterday since no one wants to babysit the newbee.’

‘I’d happily babysit the newbee anytime if they looked like that.’ You say and Eve laughs.

Whilst you’re at the most boring attraction in the park, the day is still no less than eventful. You encounter a child stuck in a tree trying to skip the line for Anna and Elsa’s Royal Welcome on your way to the bathroom due to the nearest one being blocked off. After you manage to actually use the bathroom, you’re surprised to see Elsa herself there, half-dressed at the sink and you can’t help but wonder if that’s the reason the line is so long. To top it all off, one of the only times you manage to fill the ride at Soarin’, you notice a couple getting on while holding a backpack that’s moving and alert the ride operators. When they finally report back to you that there was a six-month-old baby in there, they have to convince you not to ring child protective services.

After you slam your locker closed in the deserted dressing room, you sink down on the rigid bench, putting your head in your hands and massaging your growing headache.

‘____,’ A voice starts and you jump, looking up to see Johnny standing above you, clipboard in hand. He barely gives you a second glance when he startles you, instead pretending not to notice and continuing, ‘I need you next Friday for a grad night.’

You groan. Grad nights are the worst events Disneyland continuously puts on, in the past coming second only to Nights of Joy, the annual Christian festival, before it was cancelled for good. Even the managers rejoiced in the abolition of Nights of Joy. ‘Can’t you find someone else to be Minnie? Everyone knows how bad grad nights are.’

Johnny sighs. ‘Fine, then. I’ll put you on watching the cameras for Star Tours with Jaemin.’

You ignore the way you want to immediately jump on the chance for some one-on-one time with Jaemin and raise an eyebrow. ‘Aren’t you not supposed to do that? You know, because he’s new and I’m not trained in…’ You trail off at the glare he’s giving you and purse your lips, nodding your head in acceptance.

‘Great, thanks.’ He says sarcastically and walks out.

At least the next time you return to Hell on Earth it won’t be in a Minnie costume.

You feel strange as you unlock and push open the door to the CCTV monitor room. If you had to put money on it, you would say it’s because this isn’t your job and you technically shouldn’t be here, but you’re not much of a gambler.

The heavy metal door gives way, opening to a small room with roughly fifty monitors, each displaying the Star Tours ride, the attraction itself as a whole and the surrounding area. You note the odd statue opposite the entrance that you don’t remember the name of - the satellites surrounding a distinct shape that is rocket-like. You shake your head internally at the sight. Why are the only pretty decorations reserved for Fantasyland?

You also note the dim red lighting and frown in confusion as your eyes land on Jaemin, sitting in an office chair in front of the wall of screens, wearing the same uniform consisting of a pale blue shirt and black trousers as you, except wearing it a hundred times better.

He turns upon your entrance, smiling as he takes in your attire. ‘I thought I’d set the mood with some lighting.’ He grins cheekily.

‘Oh?’ You say, stepping into the room, locking the door behind you. ‘What mood is that exactly?’

His smile grows wider as he says, ‘Adventure. We’re in for a night, so I hear.’

You groan, ‘You’ll wish you never agreed to doing this.’ You make your way to the chair next to his, sitting down on the flat cushion and leaning back.

‘How bad can it really be? These are literally a bunch of eighteen-year-olds who aren’t of legal drinking age yet and they’re supervised.’

You shook your head in mock sympathy. ‘Sweet, sweet, naive boy,’ You say. ‘Now you’ve jinxed it.’ You eye his coffee cup and wrinkle your nose in distaste at the black liquid. It looks like you’re staring into the pits of Hell. ‘What is that atrocity?’

He follows your gaze and laughs. ‘It’s coffee. Wanna try some?’ He maintains eye contact as he takes a sip and then offers it to you.

‘God, no. I have self-respect.’

He places it back down next to an intimidating set of controls, a hint of amusement in his eyes. ‘Also, I wanted to say thank you for the other week. For showing me around and stuff.’ He looks down shyly.

‘Oh, it’s, um, no problem. How have you been coping?’ You ask slightly awkwardly, not knowing what to do at his sudden personality flip-flop.

‘It’s a lot harder than I imagined it to be, honestly. I thought the worst that could happen would be screaming children and impatient parents.’ He admits.

You nod. ‘I thought the same when I first started last year. Little did I know the Karens were the least of my problems.’

He laughs breathily. ‘Tell me about it. I don’t know how you’ve managed to last so long.’

You shrug, embarrassed. ‘I just like making the kids’ day I guess.’

He coos and you push him lightly, smiling. ‘Why don’t we play a game?’ He asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You narrow your own eyes. ‘What kind of game?’

‘Hmm,’ He pretends to think, tapping his chin. ‘How about twenty-one questions?’

‘Okay,’ You say slowly. ‘What are our rules going to be?’

He smirks. ‘You only get one get-out-of-jail card. And if you use it, you have to do what the other person says.’

You sigh. ‘Fine. Then, follow-up questions to your answers don’t count.’

‘Deal. I’ll go first,’ At your mildly worried look, he says, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. What are you studying in uni?’

‘Business and management.’ You say instantly, and he looks intrigued. ‘It was either that or English lit, and my parents weren’t too keen on me studying that.’

He frowns. ‘Why not?’

You avoid eye contact as you answer. ‘They’re both doctors,’ You clear your throat. ‘Are you in uni?’ You love your parents with all your heart but sometimes you wish they would just be happy with you being happy.

He takes the hint and moves on. ‘Yeah, I’m actually doing photography.’ He says, scratching the back of his neck.

Your head perks up. ‘Really? That’s so cool. My roommate is studying photography, too. Is that what you want to do after you graduate?’

His face relaxes. ‘I’m not really sure, to be honest. I just know it’s something I’m passionate about, you know?’ At your nod of encouragement, he continues, ‘There’s just something so amazing about capturing a moment forever in a way that really brings out its true beauty.’

You give him a small smile. ‘That sounds really special.’

He shrugs, though you can tell he appreciates it. ‘Anyway, it’s your turn to answer. Do you have a boyfriend?’

If you were drinking something, you’re sure you would have choked. ‘I-no?’

He looks slightly put out. ‘Is it complicated?’

You shake your head, maybe a little too hard. ‘No, sorry, you just caught me off guard. No, I don’t have a boyfriend.’ He looks instantly brighter. ‘Why, are you asking me out?’ You tease.

He blushes. ‘I mean, uh, I, um-’

‘Oh my God,’ You laugh, though you feel disappointed. ‘It’s okay, I was only joking. Ouch.’ You’re almost glad you didn’t get a chance to ask him out and make things awkward between the two of you. Maybe not seeing him for two weeks was a sign from the universe not to fuck up.

‘I didn’t mean it like that, oh God, I’m sorry.’ He groans and buries his face in his hands.

You tap him playfully on the shoulder. ‘It’s fine,’ You can’t help but feel hurt. Why did he ask you if he doesn’t care whether you have one or not? Maybe you’re just reading too much into it. ‘My turn, anyway. What’s traumatized you the most since working here?’

‘Learning that when cast members say ‘have a Disney day’ they really mean ‘fuck you’.’

You throw your head back and laugh. ‘That’s my favorite. Although as far as things go, that’s pretty vanilla.’

‘Maybe I’m a vanilla guy.’ He teases, and you can’t help but let your mind wander to an image of him hovering over you, reaching up to intertwine your hands together as he moans sweetly in your ear and you feel your face heat up.

‘So you’re admitting you’re boring.’ You joke halfheartedly, almost off-beat.

He places his hand over his heart in mock hurt. ‘That was uncalled for. Alright then, little miss kinky, where’s the most daring place you’ve had sex?’

Your eyes widen comically. ‘I-’ You glance at the monitors and see two figures in the back row of the mostly deserted ride, one hunched over with their head in the lap of what you make out to be a guy judging by the other figure’s movements. ‘Oh my God, no!’ You cry and fumble for the microphone.

‘What? What is it?’ Jaemin asks, his eyes searching. You can tell the moment he sees what you’re seeing, because he instantly cracks up laughing.

‘It’s not funny,’ You whine, pressing the red button on the microphone and saying as firmly as you can as monotonous as you can, ‘This is a family-friendly ride. Please refrain from scarring’ - you hiss and the figure has the decency to bolt upright and you see that they’re a girl - ‘the camera operators and fellow riders. Thank you.’ The others on the ride look around in confusion, and you can see the girl turn to say something to the boy. Judging by the way she gestures, it’s safe to assume it’s something biting.

‘I thought you said this happens all the time.’ Jaemin says once he’s calmed down enough to make the words out.

‘It does,’ You keep your eye on the couple, the guy wearing a smug grin as he zips up his trousers and the girl looking meek and embarrassed. Good. Public indecency is no joke. ‘But that doesn’t make it any less gross. This is a kids’ park for goodness sake.’

‘But there aren’t any kids around.’

You give him an exasperated look. ‘Well, I would never be okay with doing it on a ride in public.’

He licks his lips and you follow the movement only slightly too closely. ‘So when I asked where the most risky place you’ve had sex is…’ He trails off, smirking.

‘You can cross a literal children’s park from the list of possibilities, and proudly so.’ You say stubbornly. ‘Please don’t tell me you have.’ You rush to say upon seeing his face.

‘I haven’t.’ He says slowly, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in his chair, spreading his legs. You wish they didn’t look so inviting. You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.

‘But?’ You probe.

‘But nothing,’ He says simply. ‘So, are you gonna answer my question or are you gonna forfeit?’

You scowl at him. ‘What do you want if I do?’ You can feel your pulse racing in both excitement and fear but you keep your face blank.

His eyes shine as he leans forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. ‘I don’t know yet.’

You swallow at his suggestive tone. ‘Fine, I’ll tell you,’ You concede, and he seems to not know whether to be pleased or disappointed. ‘My ex was a bit of an exhibitionist. He, um, you know, touched me when we went to see a movie.’

Jaemin raises an eyebrow, but you miss the glint in his gaze. ‘I thought you weren’t down for doing it in kids’ places.’

‘We were watching Paranormal Activity.’ You say flatly.

‘And?’

‘And it’s rated eighteen plus!’ You defend.

‘Is that the furthest you’ve gone in public? No compromising positions? No p in the-’

You cut him off hurriedly before he can go any further. ‘I’ve just never done it anywhere risky,’ You sigh dramatically. ‘I think I’m vanilla, too.’

He laughs loudly. ‘You don’t have to say it like it’s a bad thing. Anyway, I never said I was vanilla.’

You frown. ‘Earlier, you did.’

‘Did I? Maybe I was just saying it to tease you.’ He smiles a wide, boyish smile, completely contradicting what he’s implying with his words.

‘Oh?’ You say breathlessly. ‘Well, okay then.’

‘Don’t believe me?’

‘I-what? I never said-’

‘Would you rather I show you?’ He offers and your breath hitches as you meet his intense eyes. The warm brown seems darker and he glances at your chest as you breathe deeply. You can’t believe he said that. In the short time you’ve known him, you’re taken aback at how quickly he can switch between shyness and confidence.

When you merely stare back at him, not knowing what to say, he stands up and closes the short distance between the two of you so that his knee grazes your own as he stands above you. ‘____,’ He says, a slight rasp in his voice. ‘I need you to say it if you want this.’

You swallow and whisper, ‘Yes.’

He cups your face with his hand, his thumb softly stroking your cheek as he brings his lips down upon yours. You lift your own hand to hold his wrist which is currently beside your face and use the other one to grip onto the arm of the chair to ground yourself in the moment.

You let loose a small whimper as he glides his tongue across your bottom lip, and you part your lips to allow it in. He grips you tighter before he pulls away from your mouth to trail wet kisses across your jaw. ‘Guess you ended up tasting my coffee, anyway, hm?’ He whispers lowly into your ear before pecking it and you shudder, with both pleasure and laughter.

‘I guess so.’ You look into his eyes and see the pure hunger that makes you squeeze your thighs together.

Jaemin notices and pulls you up gently, pushing your hips into the desk with the monitors above it. Taking the hint, you spread your legs to give him room to stand between them, and he praises a quick, ‘Atta girl’, before leaning back down to reconnect your lips. You now take note of the slight hint of coffee on his tongue this time but you don’t care as you impatiently and desperately kiss him back and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. His hand ghosts up your thigh, making you shiver in his arms. He slowly moves to unbutton your bottoms, giving you time to stop him.

In response, however, you whine at what feels like his teasing and unbutton and unzip them yourself, causing him to chuckle as he pulls away. ‘Are you impatient, baby?’ You swoon internally at the pet name and nod, biting your lip.

‘Please,’ You manage. ‘Want you to touch me.’

He moans and slides his fingers into your underwear, not wanting to tease you over them after you asked so nicely. He grins as his fingers slide in your arousal and says, ‘You’re so wet already. Do you want me to make you come all over my fingers?’

‘Fuck, yes.’ You breathe.

His eyes drink in your rapidly rising chest and the utter desire written all over your face as he gently slides a finger inside you. ‘So tight and wet. How are you gonna take my cock if you’re this tight, hm?’ You whine and he eases a second finger in and starts thrusting at a pace that makes you arch your back. 

Your hand flies to his bicep, feeling the way it flexes under your fingertips as he scissors his fingers inside of you. His thumb finds your clit and rubs hard circles into it, the pressure being just enough to make your toes curl. You lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder, pressing a swift kiss to the juncture between it and his neck. You marvel at the way goosebumps rise upon your touch and the way your breaths feel huffing against his rapidly heating skin. You can smell the faint scent of earthiness and wood from his cologne, which you take a deep breath of and breathe in his aroma as your hand winds itself in his hair and tugs when a particular deep surge of his fingers hits a spot that makes your brain go fuzzy.

‘Jaemin.’ You moan and he all but growls.    

‘That’s it, baby, say my name. Are you close? Wanna see your face when I make you cum.’ His words weigh down your lower stomach like a ton of bricks, furthering you along in your chase to find your release. He nudges your clit deliciously, teasing you by rubbing around it every now and then, pulling you away only to bring you back with ten times the sensitivity and it’s enough to push you closer to the edge faster than when you touch yourself.

You feel the coil in your stomach tightening as you nod to answer his question and unbutton your top enough to fit your hand into your bra, your fingers finding your nipple and rolling it between them. You lift your face from his shoulder and stare into the seemingly pitless black of his eyes as they’re stuck to your face and the changes in your expression as he brings you to the edge. ‘Yes, don’t stop, please.’ You manage. His features are hard to make out in the dim lighting, but you notice the way his eyes zero in on your hand stuffed into your bra and it’s when he picks up the pace, fucking his fingers into you harder that you finally let go. Your eyes roll back and your grip on his arm tightens as you moan his name like a mantra.

He takes his fingers out after riding you through your high and makes eye contact as he sucks his fingers clean. ‘Mm, sweet.’ He teases.

You hide behind your hands in embarrassment and he laughs as he pries them away from your face. ‘You gonna let me bend you over this desk, now?’ He grins.

You nod meekly, your legs trembling as you stand up to your full height. Jaemin unbuttons your blouse as you return the gesture on him, pushing his shirt open to run your fingers down the ridges in his stomach. You teasingly flick your thumbs over his nipples and he gasps, to which you smirk and repeat the motion, causing him to moan and you bite your lip at the sound. ‘Sensitive, are you?’

He slaps your ass playfully in response, pulling your trousers and underwear down in one go. You reach behind you and unclip your bra as you step out of the pool of clothing at your feet, pulling it down your arms slowly. He opens his mouth to make a remark, but decides against it as your breasts come into view. He sucks in a breath and reaches up, tugging your left nipple that’s standing to attention. ‘You’re perfect.’ He says, taking in your figure.

You smile, hearing the sincerity in his voice. ‘I want to see you, too.’ You pout, pulling on his belt loops so that he’s even closer and then reaching down to undo them.

He helps you by unbuckling his belt and letting his trousers drop to the floor. You reach into his underwear and run your fingers down his length before wrapping your hand around it and moving it up and down. He throws his head back and you kiss down his neck, tasting the bittersweet salt of his sweat and the natural flavour of his skin. You pull him out of his underwear and begin to pick up the pace but all too soon he puts his hand over yours, halting you.

‘I want to come inside you.’ He phrases it like a question and you nod, turning around and bending over the desk. His hands smooth over the flesh of your ass as he says, ‘You look so good like this.’ Jaemin runs his length between your lips to lube himself and then situates himself so that he’s pressing against your entrance. ‘Ready?’

‘Yes. Please, Jaemin.’ You push your hips back so he gets the hint.

‘That never gets old,’ He pushes himself in steadily and you gasp at the stretch and how satisfying it feels. ‘Been wanting to hear you moan my name since the first day.’

You moan as he thrusts into you, hard and fast. His pace is almost bruising, the way he grips your hips assures you that you’ll feel a smattering of fingertip-shaped soreness tomorrow when you run your fingers over the area. ‘Me too.’ You say in between breaths. He reaches up to roll your bud between his fingers and you whine; your hand travels between your legs to rub your clit. It jumps a little from sensitivity but you keep at it until you just feel pure, white-hot pleasure.

‘Fuck!’ He shouts as you clench around him once he hits a spot that has you grasping his wrist. ‘You feel so fucking good,’ He praises, kissing up your back until he’s whispering in your ear, ‘So. Fucking. Good.’ In between thrusts. You shudder and turn your head, capturing his lips in yours. The kiss is messy but neither of you can bring yourselves to care, too lost in the feeling and taste of each other to pay it any mind. The sound of your hips connecting fills the small room, echoing as it bounces off the walls until your head is filled with his moans and his skin on yours and just Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.

You feel yourself hovering over the edge almost embarrassingly quick and you cry out, ‘I’m so close.’

‘Yeah? Gonna come all over my cock like a good girl?’ He says huskily and you bite your lip and nod. You never would’ve guessed the timid boy you met on the first day who looked so innocent as the new guy had such a dirty mouth. It makes you shiver all over, loving the way his words caress your skin and make your nipples stand to an impossible hardness.

‘Yeah. Wanna be good for you.’

He groans. ‘You are, baby, you’re so good for me.’ At his words, you feel yourself come undone and your legs shake from the effort of holding you up. Jaemin whines as you clench around him sporadically, your breaths coming out in ragged puffs. You swear the sound pushes you harder for longer, wanting to do everything you can to hear him make such a pretty noise again.

‘Wait,’ You say, and he stops immediately. ‘I’m too sensitive. I can’t-’ Your voice cracks.

‘Can’t what, ____? Do you want me to stop?’ You can hear the genuine concern laced in his words.

‘No, well, yes,’ You huff and turn around, letting him slide out of you and you internally cringe at the feeling of him brushing against your sensitive walls. ‘Come here.’ You reach for his hands and pull him back over to you, closing the distance he put between you after you turned around. He looks confused as you smile lazily and kiss him sloppily, your hand moving between his legs to grab him at the base and squeezing him.

He moans and breaks off the kiss. ‘____, if you want to stop-’ You shush him as you drop to your knees and his eyes light up as you lean in to kiss the tip of him lovingly.

You trail your tongue from base to tip and take him in your mouth, suckling the head.

He curses. ‘Please don’t tease, I’m so close already.’

You relent, opening your mouth as wide as you can and sinking down to fit as much of him as you can. What doesn’t fit, you stroke with your hand. You can just about fit your hand around his girth and you can taste yourself on him, something you never thought you’d like but in that moment nothing could be hotter. He fists his hands in your hair, tugging slightly to make you look up at him. When you do, you moan around him at the sight - teeth tugging on his lower lip as he lets out moans here and there when you pay extra attention to the tip and his head thrown back, baring the honey-colored skin of his neck to your hungry eyes. He finally looks down at you and you’re close enough to hear his breath hitch as he watches you take him in and out of your mouth in a trance. You twist and tug him in a way that has his thigh twitching next to your head and so you place your hands on them and take him into your throat.

It’s when you simultaneously fondle his balls that he lets out a quiet ‘fuck’, followed by an ‘I’m coming’ and thrusts shallowly, causing tears to spring in your eyes. He releases into your mouth and you swallow it down and clean him off, earning that whimper that makes your clit throb.

Jaemin pulls you to your feet and into a kiss that you both commit to; one that’s passionate and slow as you calm both of your racing hearts and come down from the high of intimacy. You know he can taste himself on you, but he doesn’t hesitate to give his all. When he breaks away, he leans his forehead against yours, leaving wet kisses all over your face and you giggle. He runs his hands up your arms and says, ‘So, can I take you on a date now?’

You look into his eyes and nod, feeling suddenly shy at his vulnerable stare. ‘Yeah, I’d like that.’

‘So,’ He says casually, pulling you in closer by wrapping his arms around your shoulders. ‘Is this officially the weirdest place you’ve had sex?’

You gasp and slap his chest lightly but he just cackles in return, pulling you back into him.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter nineteen: black heart drawings

The lake effect snow fell over the cabin and the entire area for the whole day and thus, Sam and Belinda couldn't hardly do anything in honor of Joey's birthday, even though he swore that it would be fine if neither of them got him anything. There wasn't much of anything about the cabin to make something with, either.

“I wanna do something for you, though,” Sam told him at one point, after he got out of bed at about nine thirty: he was one of the last ones up and he explained to her that he had had a bit of a rough night. He awoke three times given his feet kept getting cold from the blankets moving off of him.

“It's okay, I swear,” he assured her. “I'm just glad you guys are all here right now with me. I promise.” And he threw his arms around her and held her close to his slim little body. That same little body that she caressed and then she drew without his knowing. However, she still wished for him to remove his clothes for her so she could see his true colors for herself. She still wished to take off his clothes for him.

That evening, they dug into the first of the two cakes, a two tier vanilla cake with a creamy frosting all around the top and the middle, courtesy of Lars and Kirk.

“It was actually Lars who picked it out, though,” Kirk insisted as he took a little plate for himself. Belinda and Charlie both took two slices for themselves, but Sam was excited for the other one on the actual day of Joey's birthday. Once she and him climbed into bed together again, she wondered how and when they would return home for the next day for school, especially when she, Marla, and Belinda started class early in the day. For all she knew, they would have to stay up all night long following the trip home.

Joey lay flat on his back and rested his arms on either side of his body. He tilted his head back a little bit so she could better see his Adam's apple and his fine collar bones. He rolled his head over the pillow and he gazed up at Sam with his eyes so big and liquid.

“What's on your mind?” she asked him as she climbed onto the side of the mattress next to him. Once again, she lay a few inches away from him. She thought of Cliff as he had turned in early that evening and she wondered how he was doing over there with Lars.

“Just thinkin' about tomorrow,” Joey replied with a clearing of his throat. Sam shivered a little bit from the day long tenure of no jacket over her short sleeved shirt: at least she hadn't brought shorts along with her. She lay her head atop the pillow and sighed through her nose.

“Are you sure you don't want anything for your birthday?” she asked him.

“Positive. Really, it's been a while since I had a good birthday, to be honest.”

She raised her eyebrows at that.

“Really?”

“Yeah. The last time I had a good birthday was when I was fifteen. It was right before I started playing hockey semi professional.”

She thought about Alex and if he had a good birthday back on the twenty ninth. A good seventeenth birthday. And yet she wouldn't know what would suit for a seventeen year old boy who played guitar.

“So when you started playing hockey,” she started, “your birthdays just kind of went down in quality?”

He shook his head. “Nah,” he replied. “My sixteenth birthday was just rushed given I was playing so much at that point. Playing hockey and drumming at the same time. I couldn't hardly focus on it at that point.”

“Aw.” She propped up her head with her right hand so she could better see into his face and his big brown eyes. “I want you to have a good birthday tomorrow, though.”

“We will, though,” he assured her. “I promise. Like I said, we're all here. Everyone is here with me.”

He sighed through his nose and his eyes pointed up to the ceiling. Sam brought her head back down to the pillow. She gazed on at his side profile, the same side profile she had sketched down in her journal. The same side profile that got her into art school.

He closed his eyes and that was her cue. She inched closer to him and she put her arm around his chest. Joey dropped his gaze to her arm as it hung right there underneath his face. His dark lips curled up into a sweet little smile.

“I did tell you to hold me last night after all,” he recalled. Sam kept her arm there for a few more minutes but then she moved her fingers and she realized her forearm was already feeling tired.

“I'd like to have a fat doobie right here right now,” he confessed.

“Why would you want a fat doobie?” she chuckled.

“So you and I could get baked together and then eat a bunch of cakes.”

“A bunch of that same cake that we had had earlier?” she asked him.

“Yeah, kinda. You know those little personal cakes you see at like a bakery or some place?” He brought his fingers together to form a little ring shape.

“Oh, yeah!”

“Yeah, a bunch of those. Just eat up a whole bunch of those and fill ourselves up with them.” He set his hands on his slender belly and Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

“This is new to me,” she declared.

“I guess it's from my being Italian, but I like to eat, and I like to eat a lot to boot. And there's a part of me that just wants to go nuts with it. Go nuts with it and get kinda big to protect myself from the cold here in upstate New York.”

“So I guess you must really like pizza,” she told him in a singsong voice, and she thought back to the little lunch party they had had back at the rehearsal space.

“I love pizza. Pizza, pasta, cannoli, all of it. All the cooking from my dad's side of the family should'a made me fat by now but—” He shook his head across the pillow. “—it's from my being a hockey player, I s'pose.”

“There's a part of me that wants to feed you a bunch of cannoli,” she confessed, “just feed you a bunch of cannoli and then make you take off your clothes so I can draw you.”

Joey rolled his head across the pillow and he looked at her with his eyebrows raised high up into his bangs.

“Do you have anything on hand so you can draw?” he asked her.

“I'm afraid not.”

He pursed his lips together and he rolled his head in the opposite direction. He then sat upright and he swung his legs around over the edge of the bed. She couldn't see what he was doing but the drawer on the nightstand slid open and he took out a pen from the bottom. He stooped over and took something out of the drawer beneath it.

“What you got there?” she asked him as she moved one hand out and lifted herself up from the mattress.

“I thought I saw something in the drawers when I got up this morning,” he confessed to her. “Just kinda out of curiosity...” He turned around and handed her a plain white pen and a narrow pad of plain paper.

“This is almost like the pen and paper you'd see at a hotel,” she remarked.

“Exactly! And—I think I saw another slice of cake in the kitchen, too.” He showed her a little grin.

“I think there was,” she admitted. “Just one more for the birthday boy.”

Joey climbed out of bed and, careful not to wake anyone in the cabin, he ducked out of there and into the darkness. Lars' snore floated into the room. When she listened closely, she could hear a slow, steady ebb and flow underneath it. Cliff was sound asleep.

She pictured him laying there on his side with a piece of his hair spread over his face. She had no idea if they slept in the same bed and from head to toe, and yet she pictured his body, rested on the side right next to Lars, and he dwarfed him all the while. Sam sighed through her nose and she lay the pad of paper upon her lap. It was happening a little too fast at that point, but she had hope that Joey knew where he was going with it.

Indeed, he returned to the room with a couple of paper plates, each with a slice of that vanilla white cake and matching frosting.

“There were actually three slices of cake left,” he told her, and he shut the door with his hip. He handed her the plate in his right hand. “I'm taking the one with the two slices 'cause I'm gonna be the one being drawn.”

Joey set the plate down on the foot of the bed and he peeled off his shirt, and in turn he revealed his slender little body. He then picked up the plate and dug into the slice of cake closest to him.

“Where did this come from?” she asked him, befuddled.

“Where did what come from?” he asked her, taken aback.

“This—” She gestured to his body and the plate in his hand. “—especially since you were so reticent to do so a few times before when I asked you.”

“Well,” he started as he brought a bite of cake up to his dark lips, “it's kinda you and me here right now. And I noticed you didn't bring your journal along with you, too.”

Sam squinted her eyes at him.

“I don't know about you, Joey Belladonna,” she confessed to him as he dug into the first slice of cake.

“Why?”

“You're so—all over the place.”

“Because,” he swallowed the bite of cake down, “—I gotta admit. I want to feel safe in the presence of someone else.”

“So you didn't feel safe or comfortable when I was feeling your body down at the lake?”

“With you, I did. But I didn't feel comfortable with the fact that we were out in the open and I believed someone would catch us.”

“Well, why didn't you say anything?”

“Well, like I said, I felt comfortable with you out there.”

Sam knitted her eyebrows together at that. He dug more into the cake, and she remembered he had already eaten a rather large slice after dinner earlier. This was the first time she actually saw him indulging in something that wasn't alcohol, and yet there was something about this sight right before her. He downed the first slice and then the next one within time, and he brought a hand to his flat stomach.

“Had enough?” she asked him.

“Oh, yes. You want me to pose?”

“At least lemme see your belly from an angle. I'm gonna need you to sit still, too.”

He shifted in his spot there on the side of the bed and he showed off the side of his body, and he lay his right knee on the mattress. His black curls sprawled over his left shoulder and onto his chest: given he was so full of cake, he could sit upright. He set his right hand on his knee and his left hand on the edge. His body was slim and gorgeous to her.

Sam put the pen to the paper and she was quick to sketch his head and shoulders first with the black ink, followed by his lanky arms and his body: she noticed that his belly had an ever so slight curve to it from all the cake and dinner of the evening.

“I like the way you look,” she remarked as she ran the pen along the outline of his body. “And I wish we had something more than this little pad of paper and this cheap pen, though.”

She showed Joey the paper and he raised his eyebrows at the sight before him.

“You sure about that?” he asked her. “That looks so amazing.”

“I don't really wanna show it off, though,” she confessed.

“Why?” He looked hurt at that.

“Because this is just between me and you.”

“Would you show off a full body drawing of me to everyone if it was done with paint or sump'n?” he asked her.

She nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Would you?”

“If—I was asked,” she replied in a soft voice; she brought the pad closer to her so she could sign her initials.

“If you were asked. Would you do it on your own whim, though?”

“I don't really know, to be honest.”

“Well, if you ramp up a whole drawing with me and make such a huge deal about it, why keep it a secret? This is also why I haven't really been so up front with you before. Because you won't be that way with me with your own career.”

“I have been up front with you!” she scoffed.

“Yeah, with my drinking! I may be a damn hick, but I ain't dumb, though. So you've been honest with me, but not with yourself, though. So tell me.” He turned around all the way and he placed his large hands on the mattress right in front of her. His bare chest hung right in front of her and he brought his face close to hers.

“Tell me,” he started again, that time in a lower, more curt tone of voice, “would you—share a full drawing of me in the nude with everyone? Not just Anthrax and the girls, I mean everyone. Have it up on display for the whole entire world to see. Would you do that? And before you ask—” He closed his eyes and held his breath for a few seconds. “—yes. I would be comfortable with it. The question is would you be comfortable with it.”

Sam kept her lips pursed together and thus she never said anything back to him. Those big brown eyes stared back at her so hard that it felt as though it went straight into her soul. The room was silent, and she tried to listen for Cliff's soft steady breathing across the hall, but Joey's presence took her attention. For a few seconds, he glanced down at the pad on the bed between them.

“Take as much time as you need,” he whispered to her. “I'm a patient man, I can assure you that.”

She let out a long low whistle and his face softened at that.

“You okay?”

“That was—intense.”

“What, me asking you that?”

“Yeah. I'm just—kind of not really used to digging deep like that.” He shook his head at that.

“It's okay. It's happened to me before. In fact, I'll have you know something.” He peered past her to the door to ensure they were alone. “I'm bit of a late bloomer,” he whispered to her.

“Really?” She lowered her head a little bit. “You—really?”

“Oh yeah. I've been a work horse for several years, so it's not really something I focus on that much.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. So—” He shook his head. “—like I said, don't sweat it. Take as much time as you need. Literally, take as much time as you possibly need before you feel comfortable to do it.”

“Thank you,” she said, and she couldn't resist the smile on her face. “And happy birthday.” She handed him the pad of paper.

“And thank you,” he replied as he brought the rough ink sketch close to his chest. He stifled a belch in his throat and he brought his free hand to his stomach. “I think that was a bad idea.”

“What, eat all that cake?”

“Yeah. Oh, well. It was good cake, after all.”

“Oh, yeah!”

“Anyways, let's go to bed—I dunno if anyone can hear us in here.”

Indeed, they turned in within mere minutes, and she continued to lay within a few inches of clearance between them. And they awoke to a new round of lake effect snow and some homemade waffles courtesy of Marsha. The whole morning was dedicated to Joey and his big stack of waffles and a plate of the second cake, a devil's food cake accompanied with chocolate frosting on top.

He was perfectly content with the single ink drawing that Sam had made for him as well as all the food. He was happy without any gifts from anyone there. Sam, Marla, and Aurora stood on the side of the room with their attention fixed on him. He took large bites of devil's food cake and drank from a big cup of coffee all the while, and Frank, Charlie, Lars, and James all made him laugh all the while.

“He looks so good without all the booze,” Aurora remarked as she brought her cup of coffee to her lips.

“I know,” Sam answered as she inched closer to the heater vent, and she wondered if this was the end of his drinking. She folded her arms across her chest to keep the warmth in her body. The very sight of him there in the kitchen made her feel even warmer. There was something sweet about the way in which his face lit up and his cheekbones rounded out like ripe little cherries. Something sweet and even kissable. She had rested her arm on his chest and she wished to do it some more, some more before she made a full body drawing of him. Perhaps if she did that again, she could feel more comfortable with the idea of putting it on display for the whole public to see for themselves.

Before noon, they all filed out of the cabin and into the snow. Sam and Belinda huddled close together like a couple of penguins.

Cliff and Jon stepped out of there first; the latter locked the front door and turned to them with a big goofy grin on his face.

“Be free and get warm, ladies!” he declared.

Even though Charlie's car stood at the curb, it felt as though it was a mile away. Belinda reached it first after she darted straight across the snow covered lawn.

“Sam?” Cliff's voice carried across the snowy lawn. Sam turned back towards him with her eyebrows raised, and he gestured for her to move in closer to him. He bowed his head closer to her ear: the cold of the lake effect snow around them only accentuated the warmth of his body and his neck. She shivered and shook but he looked as though he wanted to tell her something important.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he whispered to her, and she gasped. He stared right into her face with his eyebrows raised in question. She had been wandering around for months and yet she wound up coming back to Cliff. It felt so far away and yet so obvious at the same time. Those eyes gazed firm into her.

It was all right there, right in front of her. The yellow tulips, the books, and of course, the kiss in her apartment. It was so obvious. It was so obvious and she had to do something about it in turn.

“Yes,” she said with a soft tone of voice.

“Don't tell anyone, though,” he whispered into her ear.

“I won't,” she vowed in a whisper herself.

“Sam!” Belinda called out from Charlie's car.

“I'll catch you later,” Sam told Cliff, and he flashed a wink at her. She doubled back to the car and she ducked into the back seat next to Belinda. Charlie was quick to turn the heat all the way up by the time he had started it back up.

Four hours and they returned to the Bronx by the middle of the afternoon. Sam all but stumbled into her place: she was dizzy from the long drive as well as what Cliff had told her. She had a boyfriend. She had a boyfriend and she had her first big client with Joey. It was dizzying. It was euphoric. It was unexpected.

She picked up her journal from the couch cushion. The euphoric feeling within her. She could pick up the pens and get right to work until she fell asleep.

And indeed, she did. She put the ink to paper and she kept going. Every so often, she stood to her feet for a bite to eat, to stretch, and to use the bathroom, but she drew the ink drawings until she fell asleep at one in the morning, much to her initial chagrin.

But she awoke at six thirty in the exact same clothes. A few hours time, but not enough rest to go on the day with. She was quick to change out of her clothes and she put the papers that Legacy had sent her: if and when she caught a moment, she figured she could fill those out and then send them off by the time school let out. Indeed, it was Monday, and they would receive it by the middle of the week.

The pieces seemed to fit together perfectly, even with only a few hours of sleep, and thus, as she strode into Bill's classroom, she kept her head held high. The man in her dreams was right: the clock served as a friend to her!

He had cut the class short by twenty minutes and thus, she could finish the remainder of the ink drawings. She knew about those final three at last: the dream boy was in fact Cliff, complete with a clock in his hand, while Joey was the muse and then the friend was the man from her dreams, also with a clock in hand.

She completed that drawing by the time Marla offered to take her to lunch. Marla caught a table for them on the far side of the cafeteria right underneath the window and she volunteered to take plates of Swedish meatballs for them. Sam sat there alone for a few seconds when Belinda stepped in through the glass front doors right then. She looked, despite her heavy sweater and long dark overcoat, still too cold from the lake effect snow over the weekend.

“They're all done now,” Sam told her once she entered within earshot; Belinda paused, and then her face lit up at the sound of that.

“All of them!” she proclaimed.

“All thirty one. I can't believe I actually did it, either.”

“What's all done?” Marla asked as she returned with a pair of white plates of Swedish meatballs and mashed potatoes and gravy.

Sam glanced over at Belinda.

“Should I tell her?” Sam asked her.

“Might as well.”

Sam turned her attention to Marla right as she took her seat before her with her eyebrows raised.

“Bel offered me to draw thirty one ink drawings for the month of October,” she explained, “well, no. It was to represent each day in October, but I was so engrossed by it that I wound up making all thirty one in a couple of weeks instead. I came up with a prompt on the spot and I just ran with it.” She took the journal out of her bag and lay it on the table in between them. Marla gaped at her.

“Wow!” She lifted her left arm. “I'm getting chills, Sam.”

“I actually did it in honor of the boys' new album,” she continued, nonplussed, “that was what brought the suggestion out of her and what drove me to do it. But I want it to be between us, though. At least for the time being.”

“A little something special for the release party!” Marla followed along as she handed Sam a fork.

“Exactly! I'll let you look through it for yourself—I've got something important to fill out...”

“Oh? A grant?”

“Nah. Something better.” Sam took out the fan club papers from her binder. “Legacy's fan club.”

“Shut up!” Marla's eyes twinkled at that.

“Yeah! Would you believe they actually sent this to me?”

She and Belinda glanced at each other with stars in their eyes.

“Get on it,” Marla told her; Sam opened the journal to the first of the ink drawings and Marla gasped at it.

As she ate up her meatballs and potatoes, Sam filled out those papers within a few minutes. It was all really happening, and she figured having the full body drawing of Joey on display would be a genuine possibility as Marla and Belinda fawned over the ink drawings in the journal for their entire lunch break.

And by the day's end, she slipped the papers into the little envelope they had given her, and she slipped that into the mailbox and she strode away from there with her head in the clouds, and her heart within the paper, through the ink. On the subway ride home, she decided to call the ink drawings “black heart drawings” for that very reason.

Black ink from the heart.

[weuschoiceheart]

Stan OnlyOneOf ya cowards (Long Post - Dance & Song Analysis)

Woah....wow....just WOW

I just watched the 1theK dance mirrored video for OnlyOneOf’s “Savanna” (the one for the dance cover contest, and can I just say, W O W.

I remembered watching this last year (It was the very first video of OnlyOneOf I watched) and I was like, yeah, this song sounds pretty good. But now, after rewatching it, I’m amazed at the amount of imagery they put into the dance. By no means am I a pro dancer or something, but I’ve been dancing to Kpop for a few years now, so I got used to pretty much how the dances are like. Nowadays, most boy group dances are pretty hip-hop / popping / maybe some contemporary dance mixed in for some of the slower parts in songs, so I pretty much know what to expect. There would be some crazy choreo, fast paced tempo you need to follow, etc., etc. Yeah, 4th gen is starting to become some sort of dance competition.

But...THIS. THIS GODDAMN CHOREO SHOOKED ME. I already love how different OnlyOneOf’s songs are from the generic mainstream songs, instead of going for some hardcore rap or edm songs, they always go for mellow tunes and beautiful melodies mixed with entrancing vocals (YES YES YES VOCALS, THERE ARE ACTUALLY V O C A L S IN THEIR SONGS, NOT SOME SORT OF WEIRD NOISE INSTRUMENTAL. I CAN GO ON A WHOLE RANT ABOUT THEIR VOCALS). Anyways, I might make a whole other post for their songs, but right now, let’s focus on their choreography, specifically this one.

It’s strange, in a way. I got into OnlyOneOf because of the dance for “_Sage.” I saw it in a random play dance video, and it was my first time seeing OnlyOneOf in one of these videos, actually. I remembered seeing the dance and got shocked when they yeeted to the ground during Mill’s part in the chorus. Idk the name for the move, but it caught me offguard on how smoothly they did it. After the random play dance ended, I immediately went to watch their dance practice for “_Sage” and decided to learn the move, bc, you know, it looks cool (and I want my awkward self to show a different, cooler side of me on stage). I only wanted to just learn the chorus, but I ended up learning the whole choreo. And it literally started with “i just wanna learn their names so I can tell them apart during the dance” to finally “Ok, I’m gonna stan.”

“_Sage” has a pretty intense choreo, compared to their other songs, but I feel like, with OnlyOneOf’s choreos, you need to properly EXPRESS the song’s meaning. Ofc, it’s always important to convey the meaning of a song, since dance IS a form of art and expression (as a very smart Hwanwoong said, it’s not just about the performance, it’s whether you can convey the emotions well or not). 

With OnlyOneOf though, each of their song has a special meaning, all linked to a storyline (I’m probably gonna go on a whole other rant when I piece together the theories), and their songs are so different as well, they don’t talk about the topics that most groups today usually explore with their discography, instead going to a different route and just listening to their songs and watching them dance makes me feel like I’m in a different dimension.They’re just...UNIQUE. I don’t know any other way to say it. Y’all are probably like “how about Group X, they always talk about blah, blah, blah” and I am NOT dragging down other groups, but smth abt OnlyOneOf really stands out to me. I listened to their song “dOra Maar” this morning and got emotional after finding out the meaning behind the song. Even though I finished learning “_Sage” yesterday, I still feel like I need to practice more to make sure the emotions and meaning of the song is properly conveyed through the dance, bc the meaning behind “_Sage” is just so complex. And now, let’s actually go into the semi-analysis I did for “Savanna” so you guys will understand what I’m talking about.

THE ACTUAL ANALYSIS

Imagery is used by many groups today to give choreography a deeper meaning, or in some cases, like a signature move (SKZ “God’s Menu” uses many cooking references, for example). With “Savanna,” I was amazed by the amount of imagery they use. As I mentioned before, groups these days are more into difficult hiphop dances, so I feel like imagery is being used less and less and choreos are just a bunch of difficult moves strung together to look powerful and difficult and...yeah, 4th gen is really turning into a dance competition. Anyways, i DIGRESS ONCE AGAIN (I can complain for hours about 4th gen music and dancing but let’s save that for some other time).

I will say this again: I am NOT a professional dancer, I only had a few years of ballet + Kpop, and is self-learning popping and hiphop right now. This is only based on what I observe and how I interpret the dance.

Ok, let’s start at the beginning of the choreo. All the members form a ring around one member (KB) and waved their arms to enclose a circle, trapping him, before moving apart. Next, the members seemed to form a path for KB to walk on, with Yoojung and Junji at the end, arms forming a line that KB ducked under and passed through. Right off the bat, we have a beautiful imagery. I think it portrays time travel (since the song seems to hint towards that subject). The four members forming the path that KB walks on, are frozen like statues, like time just froze. KB is the person that wants to break out (he was trapped within a circle in the beginning) and seems to find a loophole through time that he manages to walk through.

Now, onto my favorite imagery for the choreo that really surprised me. At 0:33 in the video, When they formed lines by Nine’s side and opened their arms in sync, creating almost like an illusion. It might be to match the lyrics about “dry, chapped lips,” but that part mesmerized me, and drew me in to continue watching.

The next key point of imagery, is at 0:47, when they formed a line and stood in alternating positions, moving their arms in an alternating pattern as well. It really matches with the lyrics “among the intertwined people, I hide myself again” and creates another illusion that’s JUST. SO. CAPTIVATING. I might be a tad bit overdramatic abt this, but really, I LOVE LOVE LOVE how they put so much imagery and meaning into the choreo.

Another piece of imagery is Love’s and Nine’s solo portion after the chorus, when they mirrored each other with their bodies and made a drinking motion with their hands. Might seem small, but it emphasizes the lyrics “Watchin’ all your silhouette / Drink one more time, Sweepin’ huh.” The lyrics might not make sense, but this part is just so mysterious and mesmerizing.

They did another beautiful imagery for the start of the second prechorus for the same lyrics (”Among the intertwined people, I hide myself again”), but this time, forming a V formation around Nine. They also formed the same ring around Junji when he sang, “I feel like I’m locked in” but with some floorwork this time. I love how they tried variations of the moves, so the image is still there but switched up to keep it engaging.

These are the key details of the dance I’m going to write about here, there are many other parts and some imagery I probably missed, but if I’m going to actually analyze every single move along with the song lyrics, you guys are probably gonna get bored XD. So to wrap this up, I think the important factor about the dance that really draws me in is that, unlike choreos nowadays, the dance is composed of smooth movements and transitions, like contemporary but keeping that Kpop feel, ya know? The song itself is already mellow and vocal-centered, so ofc the dance has to match it, but I wasn’t ready for the imagery (i dare you to count the amount of times I used this word lol) they used. Watching this is like a breath of fresh air, listening to this song is so refreshing. I strongly recommend you guys check it out!

This is the longest post I ever wrote lmao, and if you read all the way to the end, congrats! Anyways, I might learn this after I polish up “_Sage.” Hmm....should I also do vocal covers for the songs too? I was actually thinking of remixing “Savanna” into a diss track because of the misheard lyrics (”i don’t give a shit what they think abt us / you’re like a bitch from Savanna”). Who knows?

Thank you for taking your time to read this!

[veryveryverytemporarily]

As promised Chapter 3 of The Best Man. The boys go rowing in this chapter for the first time but in separate boats for now. 😂  Naturally Aaron is a strong rower and Robert struggles with his competitive instinct 😂😂 After they go back to their shared hotel room 😉

Link for Ao3 here. The standard of writing isn’t glowing lmao. but I’ve had a go at editing below. 

****

Chapter 3

The water on the Thames was its usual murky olive green. Trees overhung the river and moorhens floated around under the weeping willows.

A large group arrived on the river bank and Laura quickly partnered up pairs for boats. 

Melissa looked particularly beautiful in short shorts and a halter neck T shirt with her long dark hair shining in the sun. Many of the men hovered around her, tongues hanging out, which made Laura feel nervous. She placed a conspiratorial hand on Robert’s arm.

‘Please, partner with Melissa will you? She’s your family, well she’s going to be your family, isn’t she?’

Robert nodded and stepped forward

‘Mel, come on.’ He reached out a hand to help her step into a boat.

Melissa smiled.

‘Where’s Chrissie?’ She asked, having sat in the front with Robert behind her.

‘She had to go shopping with Rebecca.'

Melissa picked up the oars, though it was obvious she had little idea what she was doing, so Robert leaned forward to show her. He placed his hands over hers and showed her how to use her wrists to stroke forwards and backwards into the water to propel the boat forward. Looking across at the bank he saw Aaron watching him, also dressed in shorts and a sleeveless T –shirt climbing into a boat with Laura. 

Aaron had the same impact on him this morning as he had the afternoon before. Robert found he needed to shift back against his bench, and gently adjust himself, hoping the attraction wasn’t too obvious.

‘Hey!’ he shouted across. ‘I am not sure about how fair this competition is going to be, Laura, if you pick the fittest partner!’

‘I know!’ She laughed ‘He is rather lovely, isn’t he?’

Robert screwed up his face. ‘Didn’t mean that sort of fit,’ he scoffed, and watched Aaron’s face.

‘Yeah mate!’ Aaron called across, ’Keep telling yourself that!’

Robert put on his sunglasses and grinned.

‘Okay, the first stretch is to Orchid Island,’ Laura instructed.’It’s about forty minutes away, and the last boat there will get a forfeit, so beware!’

The boats set off. Robert enjoyed the journey even though Melissa struggled to find any rhythm in her stroke and they soon fell behind the others. Robert decided, against his better nature, not to care that they were being overtaken by a number of boats and suppressed his competitive urges.

‘How are you doing Mel?’ He asked ‘Are you alright? Do you need a rest or anything?’

‘No, isn’t this just lovely?’ she answered.

‘Put your oars down for a while, and I’ll row on my own,’ he offered,

She shifted round and gave him a smile under lowered eyelids ’Thanks.’

‘So Mel. I’m guessing you have a boyfriend? Isn’t he here?’ Robert asked.

‘No I don’t,’ she answered, ‘But there is someone I like.’

‘Well I hope he deserves a beautiful girl like you,’ Robert replied distractedly, watching the horizon where the river bent.

‘I don’t know yet,’ she replied.

As they rounded onto Orchid Island they were met by laughs and klaxons.

‘Alright! So what?’ Robert objected. ‘We were slow. We were enjoying the scenery.’

Laura shouted out, ‘But we warned you - there’s a forfeit!’

‘Yeah? What’s that then?’

‘Well, you’re going to wear a blindfold, then three people will kiss you and you’re going to rate them out of 10.’

Robert spluttered.

‘Wha...Seriously? That sounds more like a stag do!’

‘This is nearly a stag do! Except the groom isn’t here right now, ’ Laura quipped back. ‘But anyway. Nah!’ she laughed.‘But look behind you!’  

Robert turned in time to see a group of lads ducking under the water. The next thing the boat was rocking violently and before they could draw a breath they had been capsized and were under water in the cold Thames. Robert surfaced, gasping and spitting out river water.

‘Fu..... Ha, ha! Very funny!’ he spluttered.

And then he looked round for Melissa. She hadn’t reappeared. Time seemed to grind to halt, she still didn’t appear. A wave of adrenaline hit Robert. He called her name and some of the others joined in. Where was she? He dived under. When he emerged she was in his arms but it was clear she was unconscious. Robert swam with her towards the land where Laura, Aaron and others all ran into the water to help him carry her out. Her eyes were closed and she didn’t seem to be breathing.

‘Shit’ Robert said.  

Aaron stood next to him and placed a hand on his back. Laura started CPR. Robert ran his hands through his hair, watching in agony. What kind of a wedding would this turn out to be with one of the bridesmaids drowned on the first day?

Suddenly Melissa started coughing up water. Robert ran forward and dropped down next to her, taking her hand.

‘Hey! You silly girl you gave us a real scare there!’  He turned and gave Laura a grateful smile.

‘I can’t swim,’ Melissa groaned.

‘Really? Wow!’ Robert laughed.

Laura called an ambulance to meet them at the nearest riverside location. Melissa asked for Robert to go with them, and Aaron, who wouldn’t give up on his rowing partner, also jumped in the back of the ambulance. The para medics gave them blankets since their clothes were wet. In spite of that, Robert started shaking and Aaron looked concerned. Robert smiled apologetically.

‘Always get cold very easily,’ he stammered. ‘I must have poor circulation or something.’

Aaron smiled back.

‘Could be, you know, a bit of shock too, you did actually dive in and rescue this lass you realize.’

He turned to the paramedics. ‘Do you have a hot cup of tea or something for my friend?’ he asked.

After it was confirmed that Melissa was going to be alright but needed to be kept in for routine observation, Laura insisted the boys go home. She fished in her backpack and pulled out a bottle of Champagne.

‘Drink this!’ She instructed them. 'Imagine I am with you, because believe me I would enjoy it if I were!’  

Robert gave her a hug. She was tough and his admiration for her had only increased over the last few hours. She patted his shoulder. ‘Go back and have a hot shower. See you this evening, you idiot.’

Back at the hotel, the boys went up to the room. Robert placed the champagne on the dressing table.

‘We’ll need glasses.’

‘Here.’ Aaron fished some out of a cabinet.

Robert poured them each a glass which they drank down quickly, and then poured a second. He called Chrissie, who was still out shopping, and explained briefly what had happened, and she told him she would go to the hospital to see Melissa and catch up with him later.

Robert felt the champagne go quickly to his head. He sat down heavily, letting relief wash over him. Then he looked at Aaron carefully for a moment.

‘Your eyes are lovely. You have blue eyes,’ he said suddenly, and then didn’t know why he had said it. Aaron laughed.

‘What’s so special about blue eyes? You have blue eyes too,well, greeny blue.’

Robert tipped the last of the champagne into the glasses. He was starting to shiver once again. Aaron noticed.

‘You get your shower first. Your lips still look a bit blue. You seriously need to warm up, mate.’

Robert laughed. ‘Are you looking at my lips?’

Aaron rolled his eyes. ‘Are you flirting with me?’ he asked back. 

Robert spread his arms in defense. ‘You mentioned lips’ he replied, leaving Aaron shaking his head as he countered. 

‘Well, you mentioned eyes!’

He stayed under the shower a long time, letting the warm water seep into him. It was his turn to emerge with the towel round his waist, his blond hair wet and combed back. He noticed Aaron’s eyes flicker over his body, but slipped gratefully into his bed as Aaron prepared to get into the shower himself. Before he knew it sleep overtook him.

When Robert woke and looked at the time he saw it was already late afternoon. He felt ravenously hungry and slightly hung over. 

Looking across the room he saw Aaron asleep on his bed on his stomach. His head was turned to one side and his arms were spread out at his sides. He looked so beautiful, his face relaxed against the mattress. Robert fleetingly allowed himself to imagine slipping under the sheet between his thighs, stroking a hand up over his back and neck. 

He shook his head and frowned. He decided to get up, stepping out of the bed and going to the wardrobe to retrieve some clothes, pushing his hand down on the semi hard on that had appeared. 

The noise of the wardrobe door opening must have woken Aaron because when he turned he was shuffling himself up to a sitting position against his headboard and blinking at the sight of Robert naked in front of him.

‘Enjoying the view?’ Robert smirked.

‘Ugh. Well one of us is clearly enjoying something!’ Aaron snapped back, referring to Robert’s state of semi arousal that was not intending to settle down any time soon.

‘Yeah, well. Admit it. You’re impressed.’ Robert smirked again finally pulling on some boxers he found in the draw.

Aaron just laughed. ‘Get over yourself.’

‘Come on then. You give me a show! We can find a measuring tape if you like.’ Robert laughed back.

‘And you are what...8 years old?’ Aaron replied.

Robert persisted though.

‘No, just it’s only fair, right? I showed you mine so ...’

Aaron sighed. ‘You know for a straight guy you really are a complete dick.’

Robert was just about to step in the bathroom but froze suddenly.

‘I don’t like labels,’ he said, and then shut the door, leaving Aaron blinking in confusion.

That evening Robert and Laura were treated as heroic rescuers by the party, and particularly the Whites. Robert found himself quietly amused at how well fate had treated him this time around, without any scheming required on his own part.

Even Adam spoke up in his praises, walking up with Aaron by his side. 

‘Nice one Robert. Rebecca is made up that Melissa is going to be OK.’

‘Thanks.’ He inclined his head. Then he blurted out a question, ‘Are you too joined at the hip or something?’ It sounded aggressive.

‘What?’ Aaron scoffed.

‘Just wondered, that’s all.’ 

Robert walked away, mentally kicking himself. This best man was getting to him. He needed to do something, so he sought out Chrissie.

‘What’s the plan for tomorrow?’

‘Well Rebecca and I still have things to do in town.’

‘Great. I do too. I’ll come with you if you think you can bear having me around. And I also thought I might just check out the hotel situation. It’s killing me being in separate rooms.’

[leupagus]

you will miss the green and the woods and streams

A Schitt’s Creek AU thing I wrote for @broadlybrazen, which boils down to “lol what if Schitt’s Creek had been Schitt Records can you imagine.” 

You’re welcome/I’m sorry.

***

“Okay, but why are you making me do this.” David doesn’t ask, because it’s not a question; it’s a declaration, something he’s learned in the long years since he and Stevie were coworkers, then friends, then — something, almost, not quite — and now they’re people who drag each other to shitty bars in shitty basements in shitty Toronto, except only Stevie is that.

“I’m not making you do anything,” Stevie lies right to his actual face as they collect her beer and his wine from the bartender. “You offered to comfort me.”

“I don’t think I said ‘comfort’ so much as I said ‘support you in your time of—‘“ he waves at her generally, carefully not to spill. “Loss, or whatever.”

Not that Jake qualifies as a loss, per se; he hadn’t even tried to get out of the contract, which Stevie keeps saying is the important thing. And David of all people knows that above-average sex can only take you so far when the other guy is an emotionally illiterate carpenter/rockstar who responded to a breakup text with “bummer :P”

“Well, this is you supporting me.” Stevie takes a swig and leans back against the bar; David admires the clean line of her neck and chest the way he’s done a thousand times before, absentminded appreciation the way he looks at a beautiful coat or listens to a new record; letting it slip through his fingers, like everything else.

“You’re not…performing, are you,” David doesn’t-ask.

Stevie gives him a long look. “You’ve known me for over two years,” she says, even. “Do you think I’m likely to break out into song?”

“You’re a talent scout for a major record label,” he feels obliged to point out.

“Uh, first of all, it’s not major, and second of all, so are you,” she says.

This is, sadly, irrefutable.

*

When Ira disappeared to God knew where with the keys to the Rose family fortune, their lawyer had pulled them all into the living room with a chipper expression and a folder. David hadn’t listened, the sounds of furniture, paintings, his life being carted out the door overwhelming everything else. But Dad’s voice cut through.

“Schitt Records? That was a joke—“ and it still is a joke, almost two and a half years later. The biggest joke in the music industry, and David hears the laughter everywhere he goes.

*

Roland Schitt had been managing his wife and an extremely chipper singer-songwriter who went by “Twyla” and did tarot card readings after every set. Schitt Records was worth approximately nothing; probably why the government had let them keep it. When Dad finally exercised his ownership clause and made Roland an ex-officio (read: non-voting) board member, Roland had actually cackled with delight and wished them all the best, taking his “President of” title and a small stipend with him. Jocelyn and Twyla stuck around, although David still isn’t sure that Twyla’s all that aware of the change in management.

And anyway, as far as David’s concerned, the only thing of value at Schitt Records, at least at first, was Stevie.

*

They’d put Alexis back in the studio for want of any better ideas; David had found a semi-decent, semi-sober songwriter to give her some of the songs Meghan and Ariana had rejected. “Pullin’ Up Alexis” didn’t so much as crack the top 200 but it had put Schitt Records in the black, at least, even if Alexis did go white-faced and brittle at the awful venues David coaxed her into for the better part of a year — county fairs and no-name festivals where the audience wanted to jeer and heckle, where her dancing would get her laughed offstage if her singing didn’t. But every time he’d tell her she could quit (she couldn’t) and that they’d find another way to get the company on its feet (they wouldn’t), she’d lift her chin and smile and ask her where they were going next, and David loved her more than he’d ever, ever tell her.

And when the tour ended, David gritted his teeth and went out with Stevie to find something else. They found Ronnie, who hates them all but has hands like an angel on the piano; Jake who’s prettier onstage than off but who can draw a reliable crowd; even Ray, whose one-man band act is surprisingly lucrative, though David suspects that’s because anyone who listens can’t actually believe what’s happening.

Schitt Records still isn’t worth buying, but it’s worth something, now; worth spending late nights in small towns, worth sleepless weekends working festivals, worth more than David had ever expected to find.

But he’s still looking, he knows, for something else.

*

Even more insultingly, the open mic has a theme; “90’s Nostalgia!” which means too many bad covers of Alanis and one truly offensive attempt at “I Will Always Love You” that has David ordering his next glass of wine in a pint glass.

Stevie is laughing, though — she’s happy, in tune with the crowd who are clearly here for their respective friends onstage, leading the shaky ones through their choruses and cheering with far more enthusiasm than is merited when each of them wraps up.

“This is horrifying,” David tells her as some guy in his 60s gets gently ushered offstage and there’s a blessed lull.

“I know,” Stevie replies, eyes shining. “It’s great.”

And it is, in a weird way that David would never have enjoyed in his other life; he would never have set foot in here, would never have been friends with someone as grounded and solid and plaid as Stevie in the first place. So he takes a drink and doesn’t suggest they leave, but does pick a fight about sending Ray to ACL.

Stevie obligingly takes the bait and they’re halfway through the comfortable old argument about riders when David realizes the strummy-strummy lala in the background is a) recognizable, b) good, and c) infuriating.

The guy onstage is best described as “unprepossessing accountant,” wearing an ugly shirt and ugly slacks and uglier shoes and an astonishingly ugly fringed vest that’s probably (hopefully) a joke, judging by the wolf whistles from a table near the stage. But he’s got a smile like a searchlight as he rounds the corner of the first verse:

“I’m caught up in the midst of you And I cannot resist…”

David flails around until he makes contact with Stevie’s — okay, her face, which she’ll probably complain about later, but he’s too incensed. “He’s singing Mariah?”

Stevie swats his hand away. “He’s not bad.”

“I—“ David clutches at his pint glass. Fringed Vest, still grinning into the crowd and unaware of David’s newborn vendetta against him, continues.

Boy, if I do The things you want me to The way I used to do Would you love me, baby Hold me, feeling now Go and break my heart

The entire bar joins in on the chorus, Fringed Vest leading them like some hick accountant Pied Piper:

Heartbreaker, you got the best of me But I just keep on coming back incessantly Oh, why did you have to run your game on me I should have known right from the start You'd go and break my heart

Fringed Vest does not, thank God, try his hand at rapping the break but the crowd seems reluctant to let him actually finish the song, the choruses getting progressively louder and more boisterous until Fringed Vest puts a line underneath and steps back from the mic and they finally take the goddamn hint.

“That was—“ awful, he’s about to say, but the problem is that it wasn’t. There’s not a whole lot a Canadian accountant can add to Mariah Carey, especially with the advent of Lip Synch Battle. But it hadn’t felt patronizing or mocking; Fringed Vest knew every word, sang with a voice that couldn’t hold a match to Mariah but still expressed some sort of longing. He’d been joyful, earnest where most people tonight had clung to trite. It… worked.

He’s even more enraged.

“C’mon,” Stevie says, slipping through the crowd with the weary ease of someone who’s been doing this half her life. David tromps behind in her wake, bumping up against the same people Stevie glides past and almost losing her twice before she gets to the dinky curtain that is the backstage and ducking inside.

Which smells like vomit; David immediately flips through the various acts tonight and makes a bet with himself that it was the very sweet otter with the beard and the accordion even while Stevie is making her way over to the side of the stage where Fringed Vest is talking to somebody else and drinking — god, Red Mountain, David is vetoing any contract Stevie tries to push on this guy for that alone.

But Stevie’s introducing them and Fringed Vest extends a hand. “Patrick,” he says, grip firm. Up close he’s — not attractive, exactly, no eyebrows to speak of and a haircut that screams middle management, that smile still the most interesting thing about him. But it’s very interesting.

“David,” he admits, aware of Stevie’s narrowed eyes.

“David Rose,” Patrick says, worryingly. “You own Schitt Records.”

He blinks; this is possibly the first time anyone’s said the name of the company without smirking. “Co-own,” he corrects.

“You manage a friend of mine,” Patrick continues, “Ray? Butani?”

“We only manage one Ray, don’t worry,” Stevie tells him.

“How are you friends with Ray?” David demands. “He plays a vibraphone.”

“We both went to Rotman,” and that explains so much about both Ray and Patrick. “He was pretty excited when he signed.”

“Yes, the glamour of the pub circuit,” David says. “Who can resist the allure of all this,” and he almost hits a girl with beads in her hair and a banjo in her hand climbing onstage.

“It’s got its charms,” Patrick says, still smiling.

*

[comicteaparty]

February 12th-February 18th, 2020 Reader Favorites Archive

The archive for the Reader Favorites chat that occurred from February 12th, 2020 to February 18th, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

When applicable, what about a creator’s art might convince you to check out their comic?

carcarchu

I like a wide range of art styles so it's hard to pinpoint specifics but if an artist is able to draw very attractive looking characters (recognizable character designs, outfits that don't look like they came out of 2004 gap catalogue, characters that can still be recognized even when they change their hair style) then i find that very appealing. beyond that how well an artist can integrate the characters with the actual space they exist in is something i find very important as well. a bunch of floating heads can only carry a series so far. if the artist can make the characters feel like they properly exist in the space i think it can really elevate the series although in practice this is something very difficult to do.

Deo101 [Millennium]

For me, honestly some art styles are very inspiring to me and that will sometimes get me to read just because I want to see the art more and learn from it. Things like textures, colors, character design... It can draw me in just by exciting me as a learning opportunity

chalcara

For me art‘s the hook and story the line. Come for the art, stay for the story, you know?

Funnily I‘m looking less for pretty art and more for good visual story telling. I want the art to show whats going on without having to rely on dialogue.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I'm honestly very picky about art styles when it comes to comics, and that's a personal issue It has some to do with art styles being attractive to me, but honestly, the most important aspects of a creator's style to me are (1) consistency of style and anatomy, (2) level of completion, and (3) clear communication of what's happening. When it comes to whether or not I check out the comic initially, the main things that come into play with the promotional materials, covers, and/or thumbnails are contrast of the image and cleanness of the rendering. Of course, obviously, my personal tastes play into it. (I tend to like semi-realistic styles, sort of anime-ish but with a twist, or painted styles that may resemble concept art.) But honestly, probably more important than grabbing me initially to begin reading is readership retention. And that's where the 3 qualities I look for come into play: (1) Consistency of style and anatomy: This is probably the most important part for me as a reader. If I can't tell who is who because the characters change appearance from panel to panel, I'm ducking out, because that affects the clarity of storytelling. I also cringe everytime I see a particularly egregious anatomy error. I know what people look like. I see them every day. If I feel pain from looking at an artist's work, I'm not sticking around. (To be fair, everyone makes some kind of anatomy mistakes, but really it's if the anatomy mistakes are really awful to me and aren't as a result of a deliberate style CHOICE. Keyword, C H O I C E.) (2) Level of completion: This really just means that if it looks like the artist rushed through the panels or they were being lazy, I feel like their comic isn't worth my time. I mean, if an artist themselves doesn't care about their work, why should I?(edited)

. (3) Clear communication of what's happening: Once again clarity of storytelling is absolutely essential. If the composition of a large portion of the panels don't clearly show the actions of the characters, I can't follow the story. Aaaaaand as a bonus: Please, please, for the love of all powers that be, please, make your fonts legible. If I can't read the comic without squinting because your text is too tiny or hard to read, I'm not going to try. I have bad eyesight as it is. Take pity on your readers. I'm not going to suffer for your work. I have dropped far too many comics to count because the creator didn't care enough to make sure that the font was legible. And this applies to both desktop view, mobile view, scrolling format, and page to page format. Just.... Make your fonts big and clear.(edited)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

That's interesting to think about how recognizable characters are when their hair style changes. I might try to use that as a character building exercise

Deo101 [Millennium]

Solid excercise: can you tell them all apart when they're bald and naked?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

OoooooooOOOOOOOOOOHHHH

I

Might partake that challenge

Deo101 [Millennium]

Also it's really fun to draw characters in all sorts of hair and clothes so idk what id do if I couldn't tell them apart when doing that!!! That's like 40% of my art!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

This just convinces me more and more to do AU art

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah aus are another 20% of what i draw LOL

Look im drawing the comic most of the time so I wish to partake in non canon things the rest

carcarchu

@sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD) i've read series before where the character gets a hair cut / dyes it and i'm like WHO ARE YOU? IS THIS A NEW CHARACTER?

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh another good excercise is drawing your Characters in many different styles and seeing if they remain unique when not in yours.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I want to do all of this

This is stuff I hardly ever have time for

So I am extra attracted to it

Also, there IS a time later in the comic where a certain character's hair gets partially burned off

And then he cuts it pretty short to get rid of the singed edges

And I feel like his hair is like 80% of his character design

So I'm just a little scared about that

Deo101 [Millennium]

Also, @Cronaj (Whispers of the Past) , I am unsure what you mean by "readership retention" with something that makes you interested in a comic, could you explain?(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

By readership retention, I mean aspects of the art that decide whether I'll continue reading past the first few pages

(obviously story comes into play as well, but I won't pretend that the art in the first few pages of a comic don't contribute)

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh okay, I thought you meant like how many readers have unfollowed or something

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Nah

More like, "oh cool! Your cover and blurb seem interesting. Lemme check out the comic!"

And then after reading the first few pages/chapter:

"ah... Not for me." Or "Nice, I'll keep reading!"

Deo101 [Millennium]

Gotcha

Capitania do Azar

Ohh I don't feel like dissing particular artsyle choices, but I know a few aren't for me. I'm no big fan of ultra realistic, hyper detailed stuff you usually see in super hero comics (other genres pick that style too sometimes and I still don't really appreciate). I particularly like artstyles that are distinct and recognizable, I have a hard time with stuff from different authors that just looks... Like a carbon copy (sometimes, the style being referenced is waaay too obvious and that is always a big no for me) Good use of color is key. Give me some good values too. I want colors to make sense and I am very tired of pink. I also appreciate consistency. If you give me artwork with a more paintery style but then the comic is cellshaded, that might tip me off. But not necessarily (tho I appreciate inner consistency inside the comic itself). Rushed stuff, like mentioned above, is also not a good look, but only insofar as it distracts me from what's happening in the story. Consistency is a very important word here, because I love seeing a common line that is able to take in all the differences that are necessary in character design and backgrounds, but also make me believe that they all could live in the same world.

Oh! And also: if the artstyle involves using lineart, I am really fond of sharp, clear lines with weight variation

sagaholmgaard

I'm curious about what you guys mean with consistency- do you guys not like if an artist's art style changes over the several years it might take to make a finished webcomic? Is it that it peeves you when the backgrounds are done in, say, a painterly style while the characters are done with lineart? Is it when the artists makes ordinary illustration work in a completely different style from their comic pages? (This is genuine curiosity I hope no one's feeling attacked rn ^^)

carcarchu

i personally really like seeing an artist's skills improve and evolve over the many years it takes to draw a series

even at the expense of a more "consistent" final product

sagaholmgaard

Yeah me too, it's one thing i really like about webcomics

chalcara

Can‘t talk about the others, but I get thrown off when one page is sprite comic, the next painterly, third cell-shaded without having a in-story-reasons for those style changes, like flashbacks or pov-changes. But more commonly, the issue’s the classic „comic‘s usually coloured, but oops, this time you only get the pencils because I had no time to update“. If that happens too often and/or doesn‘t get fixed for the archive I just lose investment in the comic.

Art evolution is natural, both in webcomic and published work with a dedicated artist.

Ah, that‘s another source of inconsistency - people switching colourists or even artists around. Once in a while is fine, but if it happens every month or so, I tend to get annoyed by it. It‘s actually why I killed my first webcomic twenty years ago; it was a collaberation and life kept getting in the way forcing me to switch colourists every five pages or so.

carcarchu

oh actually i have read a webcomic where they changed artist's 18 chapters in. i really fell in love with the magical and dark tone of the original artist and was engrossed in the world that they set up. they had a painterly style and it really set the atmosphere of the entire series but then the new artist had a super clean and cutesy art style and the sudden tonal shift really threw me off. in the long run the new artist was actually extremely consistent and better at actually releasing long chapters and very good quality chapters and the writing actually improved too because of it but it was never able to recapture what it was that i really loved about the original art style. also the new artist changed the character designs a little so the heroine was no longer even recognizable as the same person

since it was relatively early in the series i definitely would have preferred if they just got the new artist to actually redraw the first 18 chapters in the new style just so the change wouldnt be so incredibly jarring

chalcara

Any harsh breaks like that will cause some people to break away from the comic, I found. I dumped one of my favourite-for-years comic because the creator got bored by their main character and completely sidelined her in favour of a group of minor characters I had absolutely no interest in.

Didn‘t mean the comic got worse - by all accounts its still beloved by quite a sizable audience - it just wasn‘t for me anymore.

sagaholmgaard

Ahh that I can relate to. I get super attached to the main character and usually have a hard time getting into any spinoffs with the rest of the cast, even if I want to (and im a hypocrite because i also want to make spinoffs for ever side character in my own comic LOL) i guess if the style changed a LOT from page to page that would throw me off too. that feels like the artist is trying to experiment, maybe making sort comedic comic strips would be more acceptable then? Every style would at least be contained to one strip at least

DanitheCarutor

That's... actually a really good question. I don't really go for a specific aesthetic. Sometimes what's going on in the thumbnail attracts me, or it could be the use of color, the style, a character design. I'll check out a comic with just about any art style. I guess maybe if I have an idea of what the creator is going for with their art? Like, the art may have a lot of kinks, but maybe being able to tell what style they're trying to go for makes me want to check out their work? Honestly, I don't have a really strong art bias, as long as the comic is readable I'll go for almost anything. Maybe I won't check something out if the style looks extremely uninspired... like if it were the most generic, based off Japanese cartoons, style ever then I might give it a pass. But even then I do sometimes check it out anyway, so I really don't know! This question is surprisingly hard to answer! To give my last quip about last week's topic, since I don't want to derail the current one. I feel the creator's personal life is no one's business. I understand if they're a legit bad person, but digging into a creator's life to see if they qualify to be supported is... I dunno. This mindset makes me feel that if someone who liked my work ever tried to get to know me, they would be doing it solely to see if I'm good enough for them, which feels really invasive and predatory. I fully understand most people can't just enjoy something, that's how the world is, it just kinda sucks sometimes. The world kind sucks sometimes. Alright! I'm doing with giving my final thoughts on that subject.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

The question is specifically about what draws you to art, rather than what turns you away so if you don't want to rag on any art styles that's not what it was asking for I think! Though yes it's very closely related (and it's not bad to say what you don't like)

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I definitely am more likely to read a comic that has a distinctive style - no particular style preferences, really. Interesting use of colour/value is definitely a bonus. But as long as it's engaging and the composition is good/readable, I don't really mind whether the art is "good" or not.

DanitheCarutor

@Deo101 [Millennium] I wasn't trying to rag on anything. I couldn't specify what about someone's art would draw me to their comic, it was easier to the one thing that might not, but I still said that I may be drawn in regardless. Sorry if I came off like a douchebag, totally not my intention. <_<'

Deo101 [Millennium]

No I know, someone earlier said "I don't feel like dissi g particular styles" I'll be honest I was typing my post as you were and so I didn't even read yours til after I said something(edited)

Just kind of a general thing! Feels like it went to what turns us away instead of what draws us in so just kinda a reminder of the op

sagaholmgaard

Readability is definitely important for me to want to continue following a comic, but what about the art that makes me want to read something...? I definitely have a preference toward cartoony styles overall. A solid character design will make me wanna check out a comic. If the main character has a recognizable silhouette and interesting shape language. I also love really bold lineart, especially if it's used to create shadow and contrast. Interesting color schemes too. I think how the background is drawn can really make me want to read something as well. I know BGs aren't people's favorite thing to draw but to me if the setting looks very well though out and designed, that definitely motivates me to check something out. And awe-inspiring sceneries are always hella cool! I read a lot of things outside of my artistic preferences though, but I think these are the things that might make me pick something up based only on the art itself.

keii4ii

I think I tend to find more appeal in certain compositions, which is a more subtle aspect of style. I am a major sucker for evocative use of backshots/ not-showing-the-(whole)-face, for one thing. Compositions that make full use of the three dimensional space around the figure(s) is another (this doesn't necessarily mean putting a lot of stuff around the character; you can have a mostly empty space and still make it feel very 3D).

(I hope both of those things show in my own works... I just love those things soooo much )

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh I LOVE when a panel like... Cuts a face. Something about it makes me lose my mind every time

DanitheCarutor

@Deo101 [Millennium] Ooh! Lol sorry about that! I was so caught up with off computer stuff that I didn't notice anything else typing while I was. I haven't read the whole conversation yet, but I can see how it would turn to that. "What draws you in" is a hard topic to stay on. At least I imagine it would be since it's hard for me to talk about.

Ah! I admit I really like shots focused on scale, specifically ones were you can feel how tiny the MC is compared to what the camera is focused on. Does that make sense? Like the panel shows this ginormous thing, and it has the MC in it to show how massive it really is. That's awesome when done right.

Deo101 [Millennium]

Tiny little person. Yes. Very good

DanitheCarutor

Tiny people in giant worlds are the best!

keii4ii

I love those too!

DanitheCarutor

Oh, also this isn't a webcomic, but I've been interested in reading Vinland Saga after seeing this page on Twitter.(edited)

Something about extremely hideous expressions on semi-realistic faces jives with me.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

What draws me in easiest is the design aspect of characters, environment and the webcomic title! It's a bit of a turn off when the title doesn't look polished. That's one of the main draws for me is an intriguingly designed logo with a catchy name that follows through their chosen aesthetic. I've seen many comics that stand apart from the title image they chose and it's a bit jarring to see! Great examples of wonderful execution of these aesthetics are BlackOut City, O'Sarilho, Sink Your HookTeeth and Shadrunners(obvs there are many more) I have to agree with @sagaholmgaard about backgrounds! There are quite a few creators who avoid them and stick to simple colours and gradients that just dont keep me in the comic- though my fave genres include a lot of world building, so BGs in a romance may not be emphasized as much. Lastly, dynamic character design!! I love a wonderfully crafted cast that allows me to read the characters easily no matter what setting or outfit they're in. Also it's really random but i do love an artist who can draw really good shoes?? That is always a draw in for me (edited)

Capitania do Azar

Oh I meant it in the way that if you spend a lot of time experimenting with different styles and techniques, you'll never be good at any of them. Style and approach changing over time is, imo, inevitable and good :) @sagaholmgaard(edited)

@@FeatherNotes(Krispy) I constantly think my logo looks like crap next to other webcomics', so thank you (edited)

DanitheCarutor

Oh god, @FeatherNotes(Krispy). Titles and logos are legit my weakest point, that part of the comic creation process is the worst! I have this cosmic-horror/fantasy comic I've been developing since 2005, and it took me till just last year to come up with a decent title. It'll probably take another 14 years to come up with a passable logo. Lmao!

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

It is really hard! Because that image/logo and name represents the body of work so firmly, its also got to stand strong with what it's representing and stand up to other titles too! Basically, i like to think of something that will help generate top results when i search on google for the title, which to me helps it stand on its own on the web, and sound catchy enough for pitches in person! I don't want to steer the convo away too much from the prompt, but there is definitely more to discuss about titles and their chosen aesthetics

varethane

@DanitheCarutor have you read Golden Kamuy? If you love hilariously hideous expressions in manga, it seems like it may be your jam lol

(it's also set in a specific historical period and contains a lot of really interesting material about the time/place it takes place in)

Also I feel like I have never, even one time in my life, come up with a good title for anything-- both Chirault and Wychwood are placeholder titles that I used just to kinda name the story for myself, which I initially intended to change when something better came along, and then nothing ever did

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I know I'm generally drawn into a comic if it's just... generally a visual feast? And it doesn't even have to be a beautiful feast - just... a feast! A super intriguing artstyle, beautiful or not, is something for my brain to pick apart and enjoy. Detailed backgrounds, intricate costumes, fascinating presentation/layout... all the way to crazy expressions and fun asides, and even some gory or scary bits to make me go EEK. Basically, if I'm reading it, and my hand is twitching with the prospect of drawing fan art, then I'm in for good.

DanitheCarutor

@FeatherNotes(Krispy) Urg that is such a nightmare! And there are only so many different styles you can do for a logo, and so many variations of words, it's like how there aren't any truly original stories anymore. I got lucky with the title for my current comic, it's the most generic thing ever, but fits in a tongue-in-cheek way. @varethane I've never heard of it, but the face compilations I'm seeing are intriguing! Man, I love stupid facial expressions.

Capitania do Azar

@varethane golden kamuy, I see you are a fellow of taste as well

varethane

(I love it so much)

Capitania do Azar

@DanitheCarutor oh idk about the "only so many things you can do with logos", I've seen amazing things in this world, if there's a limit I'm not seeing it

varethane

(I can always tell exactly when I was binging it because there's a big chunk of my phone's photo gallery that's all screencaps of Asirpa making dumb faces)

Capitania do Azar

@varethane guys shooting each other in the woods? I'm always in for that

DanitheCarutor

@Capitania do Azar Lol I guess? I can't see how you can have an infinite number of designs for writing, while still trying to keep it vaguely readable. But I really don't like lettering, so my imagination is hardcore lacking in that department.

Capitania do Azar

Lettering and logo design are their own fields of expertise, it's ok

meek

Hmm I'm similar to a lot of previous responses where I can't pinpoint a specific style or trend of art work that draws me in because the styles of comics I read differ incredibly. That being said, there are some things that I do look for to keep me coming back: 1) Consistency of style/anatomy: unless there's a specific reason for the general art style to change (not including semi-deformed or chibi versions of characters), I appreciate characters staying proportionate or just otherwise consistent throughout the comic. And art evolution isn't something that's at odds with consistency, it can actually help that by making characters more distinct and easier to distinguish from each other. 2) Potential for art evolution: Almost the opposite of the previous point lmao but if I find a new comic and I see the latest page is of a much higher skill level than the first page, I'm immediately hooked. I want to see the journey. And I want to see how far that journey goes, even past the point where the art "gets good". There's at least one comic that I can think of where once it hit the style that it wanted to, the art has stayed consistent for the past several years but so much so it's almost plateaued and become stagnant. It's still good art, by all means! But I want to see it grow and evolve more. 3) Good panel/speech layout: Okay it's not quite art in the same sense but someone else mentioned this above and I think it's important too? There are so many comics I can think of that I couldn't read or I dropped off at a point because reading was a chore, either because of giant or unsightly speech bubbles, tiny or ill-fitting font, a combination of the two, etc. Sure, graphic design and layout is a skillset completely different from pure illustration, but it's one worth knowing because otherwise you could do a disservice to your art and your story.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@meek Seriously, the text is so important to me, and I consider it a large part of page layout and design

meek

Agreed!! It's something that bothers me with printed comics all the time. I've tried to read so many "classic" graphic novels and I just.. I can't get past the giant text boxes with small font with miniscule kerning and ESPECIALLY if they then add color to it. Please, keep in mind your readers with reading difficulties But to turn this into a positive One of my favorite things that also helps make a comic feel more personal is when the creator turns their handwriting into a font or otherwise have FUN with the speech bubbles

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

YES. As someone with bad eyesight, typography is one of my favorite aspects of finishing a comic page.

Deo101 [Millennium]

It also is super important for me with ADHD, reading is hard enough as is! so bubble layout and clarity can really bring the whole thing together and elevate a comic

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I tried that but got the feedback that my text is hard to read and the way i format my speech bubbles is distracting (: But some people have said they really like it so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Though I do think I could have done better with the font. I have good eyesight and bad handwriting do I think i have a much easier time reading weird text than many. Since you guys care so much about text, would you mind taking a quick glance at my comic and telling me how readable it is? It'd be nice getting feedback from random people as opposed to only my readers who felt strongly enough to leave a comment unprompted

meek

Oh man I have this specific panel in mind from some early 2006 Avengers comic of like.. what not to do Basically it was a bright yellow text box with this white/light blue font. It was just. It was a nightmare to read Oh sure!! Definitely send me a link

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yep! Send me a link too! I'd love to help you out

I also have a good typography book to recommend if you're interested. I can drop it into #art_resources(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Here is link: https://www.webtoons.comen/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Thanks for taking the time to give me critique!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

The link's not working, but I can probably find it on Webtoon

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

And I think i dould find a typography book interesting, so yes please do send the link

Sorry, i think the link is missing a slash

Did we both delete the link

Deo101 [Millennium]

did we both delete a

yah

i got it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Thanks

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I found it

(The font is a bit small on mobile, but the font is fine?)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Wait can we move to shop talk?

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

(maybe we can have this discussion on shop talk channel? )

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Sure

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

OH LOL

DanitheCarutor

@Capitania do Azar Oh god, they so are! I envy anyone who enjoys that craft, I'm a lot better than I was, but lettering is still so hard. ;v; At least the fancy stuff is hard, regular speechbubble lettering is easy as long as my hand cooperates.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

There's a book I had to read for a web design course I took, and it is seriously a life saver

It put text in a whole new perspective

DanitheCarutor

I do all my lettering traditionally, but maybe that book would be helpful, I legit hate doing it no matter what medium I use. (sorry for continuing to derail the channel.)

Capitania do Azar

@DanitheCarutor i used a website that converts handwriting to fonts + font forge for tweaks to get personalised fonts

DanitheCarutor

I used to type bubbles out, and I've thought about it for my current comic but I mix up words and letters really bad, and I forget to add words entirely while typing. It wouldn't be so bad if my brain saw the mistakes while rereading everything, although sometimes it takes a couple days or another set of eyes for me to actually see them. When I write the bubbles in with a pen I make a lot less mistakes since it takes more effort to write out each letter, also my brain can keep better track of the ones I do make. I feel like that's an excuse that makes no sense.

Deo101 [Millennium]

no it totally makes sense

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I can't say I'm ever especially drawn in by art? Besides the sense of "it looks like a lighthearted action story and I like lighthearted action stories", not much catches my eye. Though, I will drop a comic if I'm put off by the art. Like I can forgive if some things look janky at the start of the comic, but if that jankiness doesn't improve over time, I'll drop the comic. I'll also drop the comic if the character designs are bad (i.e. indistinguishable from each other, or in rare cases just too gross to look at). But again, I can't exactly say "good character designs draw me into the comic" because a lot of comic banners/thumbnails don't really show off full character designs.

chalcara

Varied bodytypes are catnip for me. And I like comics with expressive characters over comics that limit expressiveness to keep the characters pretty.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh, definitely agree with that second part. Comics where it looks like everyone has had a ton of Botox is a huge pet peeve of mine

Like, eyebrows are not the only part of the face that can move.

Do more

renieplayerone

Yeah i agree with the janky art thought. I think it helps me follow through the jank if i see that the later pages, the artist has shown growth, and i dont want to force anyone into a "gotta redraw it" loop if thats not something they want (of course everyone has their reasons and theyre also valid af) Ill tend to be more forgiving about the jank if i know its someones first webcomic or first comic in general, because you cant learn how to make comics without actually sitting down and making the dang thing. So yeah, the jank can be a double edged sword(edited)

What super draws me in is comics with a great sense of color. While i love anything vibrant, if the softer watercolors are done well, they're chefs kiss. Prime example of that is Stand Still Stay Silent

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I've been thinking about this question all week and I think I finally boiled my answer down to something short, sweet, and to the point. It's gotta be some kind of spooky and some kind of cute I have a pretty broad range of art styles I like and I definitely also read stuff that doesn't fall under those categories, but I think my favorite stories or artists are some blend of those two things. I don't really have a preference between color and greyscale. Like I definitely love a good color feast comic, but if you know how to use your grey tones or even just black and white well it's just as good for me. Maybe that's also just me trying to justify being mostly a greyscale artist to myself TuT

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

@mariah (rainy day dreams) devils candy would def be up your alley then!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Devil's candy v good

renieplayerone

Devils Candy is amazing

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I love to combination of cute monsters and action also.

DanitheCarutor

@renieplayerone I'm not sure if it fits totally with your preference, but if you're looking for watercolor Lost Honey is gorgeous! https://www.losthoney.com/

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Lost Honey is another great comic great to look at, really interesting world

DanitheCarutor

It's one of my faves! ;v; There is another comic that was half watercolor half digital that I used to love reading (if I remember right pages set in the current time were digital, and backstory stuff was in watercolor.), but it has been discontinued for years now. It was called Toilet Genie/D00R, a comic about a genie who was locked in a public toilet and was awakened by a pug that got thrown out by her owners. It was so pretty, with such an interesting style!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Oh wow I haven't thought about that comic in 5 years! X'D I didn't read much of it, because I don't think there was much of it available at the time, but yeah, that one was also very pretty (edited)

renieplayerone

Oh those colors are really pretty!!

DanitheCarutor

Right? Lost Honey is total eye candy. @mariah (rainy day dreams) Yeah, it's sad the creator never got to finish it. I think about it every so often since it's one of the extremely rare (semi)watercolor webcomics out there.

Also I'm extra attached to traditional mediums since I work in a traditional medium myself.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Same. Got that ink wash/watercolor bias.

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

My current comic is marker shaded but I so want to do something with ink wash after this one...

DanitheCarutor

Yeah, right now I'm working with color pencils since they're cheap but I want to give gouache or acrylic a try for my next project, depending on which story I do.

Kabocha

Hm, the question is... a lil' challenging to answer. I think in a lot of cases, the art isn't necessarily what gets me, but when it does -- Sometimes it's when someone uses a resource I like/made and I can go "OOOH! I know that thing you used!" Screentones are another one that gets my attention pretty quick. Sparkles... And probably effective spot color use. As much as I enjoy many full color webcomics, there are many that get tiring to try to read for one reason or another (usually it's either a font or a saturation issue - too many similarly saturated colors near one another gets tiring to read). Also, soft coloring. Oooh, just... when the art feels like it ought to be printed on those soft-touch covers... Yeah, that gets my attention. ...and watercolor/inkwash, too. ... okay that's a lot of things that grab my attention, but tl;dr: oh hey look at all that cool stuff that people can do!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

That was part of what was so hard for me thinking about this question cuz really, a lot of things get my attention X') and the more I thought about it the more I was like "I like when a comic is like X, but oh also Y is great and I do really enjoy Z as well!" I just ... like so many things. But I think that's better than being really picky. I've meet some folks that are super picky about art and basically only like one style and I'm just like... you're missing out on so many amazing things!

Kabocha

Right? And heck, even in some comics where the style would normally be unappealing (to me), there's just something about the art and the aesthetic that clicks to make it all work together for that project.(edited)

I do think, though, that there's always going to be a special place in my heart for greyscale or screentoned comics. There's just something about art that knows how to effectively make use of shading and contrast to make their work... well, work for me.

kayotics

Art is probably the first thing that draws me in to read a comic. The top, top tier thing that gets me to pay attention to a comic is really strong inks. I love inking, and unusual inking styles. To those who know me, that's probably incredibly unsurprising. I also love really angular styles. Some other stuff I gravitate towards: cartoony styles, expressive faces, and kind of ugly characters. I enjoy seeing characters that might be described as plain or are drawn in a bit of an ugly way. The last thing that draws me in? Hands. If an art style pays attention to hands, then I'm all for it.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Does a comic have characters with big, crooked, toothy grins? I'm down for the count X'D https://media.tenor.com/images/618576ebcc4f6d2a12438624be77c54f/tenor.gif

varethane

oh hey, did someone mention webcomics done in ink wash/marker?

Chirault was that!

1367 pages of..... ink with greyscale marker..........

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

honestly blows me away that you toned it traditionally like, all of GJS is inked trad, but to ink AND tone in marker is just.....damn

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I love ugly characters

RebelVampire

When it comes to art, I'd say there are about four factors that will draw me in. First, readability. Can I visually follow wtf is going on in the comic? I have no interest in the visuals if I can't understand what action characters are taking. So the first point is always for if that is true. Second, character distinguishability. Can I tell one character from another? I am notoriously bad even in real life at being able to tell people apart, so when reading for fun, it's super important to me that I don't have to put a lot of effort into telling characters apart (exceptions for identical twins, of course). Third, personal appeal. Do I think the art is pretty or cute? Like, obviously this is subjective so I can't really put into words why I'd find one style appealing and the other not. But ya know, I like stuff I think is pretty to look at. Fourth, backgrounds. If a creator puts a lot of effort into their background scenery, I'm very sold on it. I love beautiful backgrounds, and the effort put into them give me an overall better impression of the comic as a whole. Since it takes some real passion to take care with backgrounds. All this being said, I'm not much of a stickler for art. If a comic is well-written enough, they can fail all these points and I'll still read it. This is just a list of what aspects have to be in the art for it to draw me in.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

My points are pretty much the same as Rebel's, with the addition of a few things: I adore comics with dramatic facial expressions and consistently excellent anatomy. Also, if the art style is unique? If I feel like I've never seen someone draw that way before? That's ++. So good. I've read comics where I thought the art was good but the story was mediocre, but I've never read a comic where the art met all my points (and Rebel's), where it made me go, "holy fuck," audibly, and then had the story disappoint. Comics where the art made me go "holy fuck" audibly: Excecutioner's Academy: The art is so pointy and colorful and detailed and weird. It's full of personality and life and so are the characters. Warning: hiatus comic ): https://tapas.io/series/Ex-Ac Ava's Demon: You guys know about Ava's Demon, right? With original music and animations ending every chapter, this might be the most effortful comic I've ever seen. https://www.avasdemon.com/pages.php#2611 Sfeer Theory: Everyone looks so different from each other, it's fantastic. Some characters are not conventionally beautiful, yet they're still so appealing. And backgrounds! And a thought-out and unique magic system! https://sfeertheory.com/comic/01-00/ Electric Bones: Backgrounds! Banter! http://electricbonescomic.com/index.php/comic/page-001/ I also loved Prague Race, but unfortunately it was cancelled ):

If anyone else has recommendations for comics with amazing art, I'd love to hear them!

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

For me, it just has to be an art style I like to attract my attention. I generally like realistic art, stylised art, or pretty much any style that hasn’t been done to death (like generic anime art; much as I love manga, I’m really tired of the over-saturation of bland and soulless anime-inspired art). Pretty much anything unique and well executed will grab my attention. I especially like greyscale and limited palettes.(edited)

And just to clarify, I do like anime-style art when it has expression and/or skill behind it; just not when it looks generic and manufactured. Overall, though, it’s the writing that’s ultimately the most important thing to me in a comic, so I’ll enjoy comics for their writing even if I’m not a fan of the art.

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 6

So much happens in all of these chapters, like, oh my god guys, I’m so stoked about this

Also, @thisisnotberk drew the most beautiful fanart today  and it’s my favorite thing and PERFECTLY timed because this chapter is all about Hiccup and Snotlout and you should see how beautiful they are because they’re beautiful. Thank you again!!!!

AO3 

Hiccup doesn’t realize his arm is still around Astrid’s shoulders until the front door of her apartment building is securely shut behind them, the hallway quiet except for his heart pounding in his ears and the echo of a scream rattling around his brain.

“Sorry,” he lets go of her arm, hand hanging awkwardly at his side, “I didn’t, um—”

“What do you think that was?” Astrid looks back over her shoulder as she climbs the stairs, keys jingling in her hand. “Should we report it?”

“What like call the cops and say someone screamed downtown?” He follows her, too addled to feel uninvited and too warm from walking back so quickly. He unzips his jacket as she unlocks her front door and leaves it open behind her. “Last time I checked, screaming isn’t illegal.”

“Have you seen the noise violation laws?” She kicks her boots off and starts pacing back and forth in her living room. The walls are bare aside from a single frame that holds what looks like a diploma and the only furniture is a chair and a beat-up coffee table. It looks less like the crime scene photos with Astrid living in it, vibrant and not as scared as she probably should be. Gearing up for a fight more than running from one.

“Have you?”

“Yes, the new ones are extensive,” she pauses to stare at him, blinking a couple of times to herself, “right, Tuffnut’s dossier.”

“Whose what?”

“My friend, Tuffnut,” she hands him the binder from a stool by the door serving as another tiny table, “that’s what he calls his dumb Grimborn theory binder.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.” He tucks it under his arm and looks down at the toes of his shoes butted up against the threshold to her apartment. “So umm…that wasn’t quite how I wanted to end that tour, but are you ready to subscribe to my daily Grimborn text service? It’s free for the first week.”

Astrid has an uncanny way of catching his eye even when he’s trying to avoid hers. More than that, he doesn’t feel his usual urge to shut her out when she sees through him too easily, past whatever front he put up to keep her back. Maybe his fronts aren’t up to their usual standard though, because he kind of likes feeling like something she’s trying to figure out.

He’s used to being the one with the clues, but when she treats him like a curious piece of a puzzle she’s trying to put together, it makes him interested in the final product.

“How did you want to end it?”

“I don’t know, my usual lecture about how safe Berk is now,” he tucks his hand in his pocket, “like the buildings themselves learned from the blood and I don’t know, it probably wouldn’t have worked on you.”

“That’s really corny,” she rests her hand on the doorknob, “I still think we should tell someone what we heard.”

“Tell you what, I’ll check it out on my way home, it’s right on the way.”

Astrid’s frown is impossibly familiar even if it’s not directed at him this time, more through him, and his heart stutters when he realizes it’s protective.

“You’re walking home?” She tucks her hair behind an ear that sticks out adorably far, “shouldn’t you get an Uber or something? Or ask your cousin for a ride?”

“Right, like Snotlout would give me a ride,” he scoffs. Snotlout would, of course, but it’d be more painful than it’s worth.

Plus, Hiccup has been exploring those alleys for five years now and he’s never heard anything like that. Sure, he’s been mugged once or twice, but those people were just desperate and once he started helping with Gobber’s shelter and gaining some notoriety, people just started asking him for help instead of taking what they thought they could.

Astrid’s frown deepens and it scares him when her eyes flick to her lonely chair, like she feels like she has to invite him inside. It’s not that he doesn’t want to stay longer and maybe level out the playing field a bit, given he told her about his dad and he hardly gave her a chance to talk, but well, echoing screams in Berk alleys have forced him on her enough.

“Are you worried about me?” He teases, flinching when she smacks his upper arm hard enough that he almost drops the binder. Or no, the dossier.

“That’s for taking me on a really creepy tour at a really creepy time.”

“That’s…fair—” He guesses it’s about time for something about this tour to be normal, and a stinging arm traded for Berk to go back to the generally safe place he knows doesn’t seem like too much of a trade.

Then she kisses him on the cheek, quickly like she’s hoping he’ll miss it, like that’s a possibility in any reality. When she pulls back her face is red, bright against blooming circles under her eyes as she steps back, leaning on the doorknob.

“That’s for everything else.” Astrid mutters something that sounds like an amalgamation of ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’ and ‘goodbye’ and shuts the door, once again leaving him with a click and his own awkward hands and pounding heartbeat.

It’s still dark outside, the buildings blocking even the idea of dawn on the horizon, and if it weren’t for the heavy binder under Hiccup’s arm, he might believe that none of that just happened. From Astrid saying she’d go on a tour in the first place to asking about him instead of Viggo and mostly, to the scream they heard that cut everything short. He offered to check it out mostly hoping that Astrid would drop it and not inform the police where they were, since they were technically trespassing on condo conglomerate territory, but now he’s curious. Curious and way too restless to go home and try and sleep before his next set of tours.

They were almost to the fourth site when they heard the scream, so he takes a shortcut, skirting through a torn section of six-foot chain link behind a new construction site and ducking under a semi full of lumber that’s blocking a wide, modern alley. He can hear the broken ‘Closed’ sign in the Ripped Tavern’s back window shorting from the rain, flashes of red light pulsing along with a blooming feeling of dread in Hiccup’s chest as he turns the corner and freezes, staring at the shadow under the street lamp.

Blood looks black in yellow light. Hiccup remembers the stain on the pavement after his father was taken to the hospital, brick red then chalky like a blackboard under the halogen buzz. This blood is fresh though, steaming on the cold concrete as it draws a stark line to the drain.

“Hello?” He calls out, stepping hesitantly forward then running when he thinks he sees movement. He’s on his knees beside the body before he realizes it was a trick of the light, his brain shielding him from something he doesn’t want to make sense of.

Unlike some worse-adjusted Grimborn enthusiasts out there, Hiccup has seen a dead body. Once, when he was twenty and shaky, a splotch on pavement engraved into the insides of his eyelids, and it wasn’t an experience he ever wanted to repeat.

This isn’t a repetition, it’s an expansion.

An anatomy lesson he didn’t sign up for, glittering with high budget HBO special effects instead of the sepia tone of a century between the camera’s snap and his own understanding. He jumps to his feet and staggers backwards, dropping everything in his hands and leaning against the nearest wall. It makes more sense from here, Mary Johnson, Grimborn’s last confirmed victim, sprawled out and cut open. Dispersed.

But it’s not Mary Johnson. The longer Hiccup looks, the clearer he can think, and the bolt of recognition jabs him again.

It’s the homeless woman he escorted to the shelter last week. What was her name? She was going through a divorce, she was…Jennifer. That’s it. Jennifer something, did she give him a last name? He doesn’t remember.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he fumbles for it, seeing Snotlout’s name on the caller ID and picking up with a shaking hand.

“So am I interrupting you and Astrid having—”

“There’s a body,” Hiccup’s own calm voice shocks him. He doesn’t feel calm, or maybe he does, maybe the shock is fading into something analytical.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I was on my way home and earlier we heard something funny, so I came to see what it was and there’s a body.”

“What? Like a dead body?” Snotlout pauses whatever he was doing in the background of the call and suddenly, Hiccup can make out the sound of tires on the salted road ahead and feet on the sidewalk. Splashes of red and blue light swirling on the walls. “Did you call the cops or just get straight to studying it, fucking hell, Hiccup—”

“Looks like they’re already here.”

“Fuck, I’m on my way,” Snotlout hangs up and Hiccup barely has time to get his phone back in his pocket before an officer is rounding the corner, flashlight flicking between the woman on the ground and Hiccup’s face.

Hiccup puts his hands up slowly and calls out, “I don’t suppose it would do anything for me if I told you I could explain, would it?”

One time when he was fifteen and deep into his Houdini phase, Hiccup handcuffed himself and tossed the key out the window. His dad was furious, it was one of the few times Hiccup thought that the offer to let him try and Houdini himself out of an actual jail cell was legitimate. Instead, he had to spend his allowance on a metal detector to scan the street for the key and ultimately found it in a storm drain and had to spend more money on a magnet powerful enough to pull it out. It was an expensive enough hassle that he considers it an unintended consequence that followed being handcuffed, and since faux fur lined handcuffs don’t incur unintended consequences, he would say that this is technically the second time he’s been in cuffs.

It’s less stressful than his second time seeing a dead body. He didn’t do anything wrong besides some mild trespassing and they give him coffee at the station, which he knows to be a gesture of good faith from all the times his dad made him deliver coffee as a gesture of good faith.

Snotlout makes his best case for uncuffing him, but gets shut down and sent to his desk, so Hiccup spends the next hour stuck to a table in an interrogation room, nursing cold coffee and trying his best to remember what he saw for a witness statement. They have his phone, so he doesn’t know what time it is when a detective finally enters, but the man’s expression leads Hiccup to believe it’s still uncomfortably early in the morning.

Early. Astrid. Crap, he didn’t get a chance to tell her, she’s going to hear about this on the news. She’s probably going to hear about him on the news.

“Detective Eretson,” he introduces himself, shaking Hiccup’s cuffed right hand and sitting down across the table with a manila folder. “You told your arresting officer that you had an explanation—”

“I do, I was just on my way home—”

“At four forty-five in the morning?”

“I, uh, well it wasn’t a date but—”

“I’m not here to ask you about your social life, Mr. Haddock, I’m here to ask how you came to be standing above this woman so soon after she was murdered that she was still warm.” Detective Eretson slides a crime scene photo across the table, the flash illuminating what Hiccup could only guess at in the dark. “Do you have an explanation for how you got to the crime scene so quickly?”

“I wasn’t that far away,” he tries to gesture but the cuffs catch a couple inches above the table, “I was going from 324 Harbor street to the north side of East street, just past the park, I took a shortcut and well, you know the rest.”

Detective Eretson nods, unconvinced, and there’s a knock at the door a split second before it opens and Snotlout sticks his head in.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee,” the detective barks without looking up.

“Ok, I was talking to the witness, but you could say please.”

“Two coffees, Snotl—Officer Jorgenson.” Hiccup glares at his cousin, “please.”

“How do you know Officer Jorgenson?” The detective asks as soon as the door is shut again and Hiccup folds his hands together.

“Is that pertinent to this investigation?” He clears his throat, “sir.”

Detective Eretson would be intimidating in any circumstance, but the combination of his chin tattoo and intensely unamused gaze in particular makes the chill around Hiccup’s wrists sink in deeper, reminding him there’s no way out of this but through. And the noodle arms thing is still unfortunately true, not that Snotlout’s gym time would make him any better at busting out of here right now.

Thinking of Snotlout makes him appear, sloshing coffee down his arm as he wrestles the door open and walks inside. He sets the half empty cup in front of Detective Eretson and stands arms crossed at the side of the table, making no move to leave as the door shuts itself.

“Can I help you with something?” Eretson asks without looking and Snotlout huffs.

“I don’t know, can you?” He grumbles before standing up straighter, on tip toes if Hiccup isn’t mistaken. “I was on the phone with the witness at the time he discovered the body, I requested to assist in the interrogation—Interview. The interview”

Great, it’s an interrogation, that’s excellent news.

“I thought you weren’t on duty today,” Eretson sounds like he prefers that concept and Hiccup tries to get Snotlout to leave with an important look at the door.

“I’m not, and I’m not asking for overtime, it’s called over-achieving, look it up.”

“If we could just get on with this interview,” Hiccup hedges and Eretson stares at him for a second before turning back to his folder.

“What’s this?” He pulls out another photo of a non-descript gray binder and Hiccup’s face goes pale.

“It’s a dossier.” His voice cracks, “detailing a friend of a friend’s theory about Viggo Grimborn, it’s a joke.”

Snotlout’s glare bores into the side of Hiccup’s head and he tries to scratch his temple, only to have his wrists catch on the cuffs again.

“Viggo Grimborn?” Eretson frowns and Snotlout leans back against the wall, obviously on tip toes now, arms crossed tight as he refuses to even make eye contact with Hiccup.

“Oh, you don’t know who Viggo Grimborn is? That’s not one of the many infinite things that you know?”

“He was a serial killer in the late eighteen hundreds, I know the alleys so well because I am a Viggo Grimborn tour guide who does an informational tour about him, that’s how I knew about the short cut. Snotlout is my cousin and roommate and he called to ask when I was coming home, that snapped me out of my…utter and complete shock at what I’d found and then an officer came around the corner—”

“We had a tip of a disturbance in the area,” Detective Eretson looks levelly at Hiccup for a second, “while you were taking your shortcut, did you see anyone else?”

“No, I didn’t. I mean, except for Jennifer’s body—“

“You watched that without me?” Snotlout hisses and Eretson slams his hand on the table.

“Jorgenson, out!”

“You are not my commanding officer, actually—“

“And you can thank your lucky stars for that,” Eretson stands up and opens the door, looking pointedly at Snotlout until he goes reluctantly flat-footed. “You’re interrupting my investigation with a suspect that you know, is that something I should tell your commanding officer about?”

“No,” Snotlout deflates, looking at Hiccup one more time before trudging out of the room.

“Sorry about him,” Hiccup tries when Eretson closes the door, but there’s no sign that the detective hears him as he crosses the room again and slams his hand down, next to Hiccup’s cuffed ones. His looming should be intimidating or even frightening, but Hiccup feels disconnected from it, like he’s watching it instead of living it. Like he’s still back in that alley, seeing the future play out.

“You recognized the victim?” His voice is low and serious, toeing the line too carefully to be deadly.

“Yes—“

“So I’m supposed to take it on faith that you know the alleys because you do a serial killer informational tour and on your way home at odd hours, you stumbled across the body of someone you happen to know?”

“Know is an overstatement,” Hiccup tries to gesture again, the chain catching and clanging against the table, “I walked her to the shelter the other night, she was arguing with one of those Neighborhood Watch Force wannabes about crossing the center of town while they were trying to say curfew. Gobber, the guy who runs the shelter, can vouch for me. That’s the only time I’ve ever met her—“

“But you recognized the body—“

“Yeah, apparently I have a photographic memory when I’m in shock,” he laughs, feeling frantic and suddenly needing to escape, “every day you learn something new.”

“Well,” Eretson pulls a key ring from the pocket of his slacks and flicks past a couple of near identical keys to find an all too familiar one. Hiccup rubs his wrists when the cuffs fall away, because he’s seen people in movies do it, and maybe it’ll help with the bands of bone deep chill or the soreness from accidentally flexing against metal one too many times. “I’ll be looking into your alibi.”

“But I’m free to go?” Hiccup stands up, stumbling on his numb right foot and catching himself on the table. He has to pee, but he’ll go in a bush outside and risk a second arrest for public nudity before he stays inside the station a second longer than he has to.

“For now,” Eretson opens the door but stands in the way, looking Hiccup up and down like there’s a clue stuck to him that just hasn’t been spotted yet. “Don’t leave town.”

“I’ll cancel my knitting retreat then,” the last shred of Hiccup’s patience evaporates as he slips around the detective, running his hand through his hair and stalking towards the front door of the station. Someone at the front desk stops him and gets his information, like they don’t have that already. They give him his phone back too, but the case is on upside down, like someone tried to unlock it a little too diligently.

Snotlout is outside talking to a coworker Hiccup doesn’t recognize, but he immediately jogs over when he sees Hiccup heading for home.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” Hiccup laughs, slamming his hand against the crosswalk button with a little too much force. “Detective Eretson will be checking into my alibi.”

“Right, which is no, you weren’t murdering anyone, you were giving some girl a tour of places someone else murdered people,” Snotlout throws his arms up, “fantastic!”

“Astrid,” Hiccup stops short, patting his sides like he somehow stashed the binder in a pocket he forgot about until now, “the binder—“

“Is evidence because it’s a creepy handmade book found at a murder scene,” Snotlout catches Hiccup’s shoulder when he tries to turn into a familiar alley, “where are you going?”

“Home,” He gestures, wincing at the dull pain in his wrist, “it’s quicker this way.”

“Yeah and the last time you took a sketchy shortcut, you got arrested—“

“It’s not sketchy, it’s just cutting around the stupid condos that I hate to look at,” Hiccup sighs when Snotlout steps into the mouth of the alley and crosses his arms. “You know, no one notices that you’re shorter than them until you start with the tiptoes thing.”

“Yeah, and no one notices that you’re weird until you show up at a crime scene with a book about murders.” He snorts, “oh wait, they already knew you were weird, never mind.” He only crosses his arms tighter when Hiccup bends his knees, threatening to dodge around him. “Just walk the long way past the stupid condos.”

Hiccup stands back up straight and runs his hand through his hair, tugging and lamenting how much longer it’s going to take to get home and rinse the interrogation room and murder alley scum off.

“Detective Eretson is really under your skin, huh?” He starts walking again and Snotlout almost doesn’t follow. “Oh come on, are you going to take the shortcut?

“Maybe.”

“You know you always get lost back there.” Hiccup points up at the condo roofline, “If you’re making me walk past those monstrosities, at least come with me.”

“Fine,” Snotlout gets all of two steps down the sidewalk before he’s ranting, “and I don’t know who Eretson thinks he is, he’s been here all of five minutes, he doesn’t even know who Virgo Grimdeath—“

“Viggo Grimborn, he’s not an astrology card—“

“Whatever, he doesn’t even know who he is and he thinks he owns the place. And he’s got the stupid accent and the muscles and he’s like eighty feet tall—”

“Do you hate him or have a crush on him?”

“Shut up, Hiccup,” Snotlout narrows his eyes, “you’re a little tall yourself to be messing with me right now. Toeing the line between normal and too tall,” he snorts, “well, toeing halfway.”

“Was that really necessary?” Hiccup shakes his head, looking out at the bay to avoid glaring up at the condo façade. A seagull is eating some leavings from a gutted fish and it makes him think of what he saw in the alley and he glares at Snotlout to avoid gagging.

“We’re even.” Snotlout flexes his arm, “and it’s not all bad, I’ve been going to the gym a lot more lately because Eretson was acting like he owned the place—“

“No one thought you were a stripper, Snotlout, I don’t buy it.”

“Yeah, and you got a date with a hot girl who called you a hair fetishist, crazier things have happened.”

Hiccup doesn’t have an answer to that right away and they walk the next few blocks in silence. The earliest commuter traffic is starting to pile up on the road and the sun feels a little too bright, scalding through Hiccup’s retinas and reminding him how long he’s been awake.

“It wasn’t a date,” Hiccup stands back to let Snotlout unlock the front door of the apartment, following him in and immediately losing the mental battle not to flop into his dad’s old leather chair. He’ll clean the murder gunk off of it later. Maybe. He should have peed before sitting down but the night is catching up all at once. “She did kiss me though.”

“What?” Snotlout sets his holster on the table by the door. “And you don’t believe that one person thought I was a stripper? But I’m supposed to believe that a girl as hot as Astrid kissed you?”

“On the cheek,” Hiccup reaches up to touch his face, the static of the dry brush of Astrid’s lips lingering even though the rest of the morning, warm where the rest of him is cold, like the handcuffs chilled more than just his wrists.

“Wait, like your cheek or your actual cheek?” Snotlout raises an eyebrow and gestures at his own ass, “like am I impressed or did the middle school dance go really well?”

“My cheek on my face,” Hiccup pulls his right shoe off and lobs it at Snotlout, missing by a few inches. It leaves mud on the wall and out of the corner of his eye it looks like blood.

“Oh, so it’s lame—“

“I don’t know why I tell you anything.”

“Because if you don’t talk you explode?” Snotlout snickers, finally setting his badge on top of his other uniform accessories and walking towards the bathroom. Dammit. “I’m going to bed, dude.”

“Sounds good.”

He pauses and looks back, “you’re good about, you know, seeing the dead person, right? Because you know after I had to respond to that thing with the train I was all kinds of freaked out,” he finishes the thought with a shudder. And as annoying and overbearing and nosy, and oh, disgusting, as Snotlout can be, Hiccup feels the genuine warmth of his concern.

“Nah, I’m good, I see pictures all the time, right?”

“It’s not the same.”

“No. It’s not.”

He must fall asleep at some point because he wakes up to his phone buzzing in his pocket, a string of texts coming through all at once.

Astrid (12:00pm): Murder? Astrid (12:02pm): we heard a murder?

[ghosty-schnibibit]

late liveblog for a late ep :P

wanted to quickly liveblog the new ep before i go to my first ever college party in a few hours! woohoo! also thank you guys for the nice comments and notes on the drawing of taako and krav i did last week!!! i know i’ve been bad recently about remembering to say so but they made me really happy and i love y’all a lot! i’m gonna try and start actually like... posting art again after about a year of semi hiatus, and your encouragement means a lot to me :’)

anyways, onto the liveblog! ^u^

aww clint took notes!

nvm lmao

rip danimal :(

awww aubrey baby :(

“the dice pen the tale... on the donkey“ t r a v i s

i miss indrid already, my beautiful moth boy

d i s c u s s s s s

thank you for calling that out trav i though my ears were tricking me

that was a distressingly accurate goat impression griffin :|

duck is a good non violence boy 

WELP, THAT AIN'T GREAT

OH FUCK NO D:

"just bleeding up a storm" nice

oh shit :o

BARCLAY :D

sky gondala

"that was kind of racist wasn't it" duck lmao

awww :'(

"I WILL PERSIST WHEN YOU ARE DUST" that is such a metal line beacon, hot damn

mark is mood

oh ned :(

aubrey ilu

i hope ned washed that costume, because last time we saw it it was covered in literal shit :T

"a can of dr. pepper that a horse stepped on" god ilu griffin

ned my baby

oh snap :o

quoth mcgonagall, why is it always you three???

god i love aubrey

aww ned :)

this new music reminds me of psych for some reason

wtf is mama going to do when she finds out about this

... so like my kitchen essentially

"tinctures sounds fake" true lol

what is an unguent???

"sitting criss-cross applesauce” i feel validated

ooooo whatcha gonna do thacker

well that ain't good

OH THAT AIN'T GOOD

duck the goat is fainted

ew ew ew ew ew

thank you griffin :')

MINERVA :D

y'know all things considered it's probably a good thing barclay left the room so he doesn’t see duck looking like he’s talking to himself

god i love duck so much, my favorite boy

MINERVA WHAT THE FUCK

oh no, this is bad

holy shit that was badass duck

i honestly don't know what to think about that entire exchange... my entire view of minerva just took a hard pivot from heroic to bloodthirsty and i'm very concerned for duck going forward

yay, go duck :D

oh snap :o

what does this mean

so minerva’s over a century old??? damn

HOW DO YOU SPELL THAT GRIFFIN

god this is so good, gimme that good good exposition griffie

H E  C A L L E D  H E R  M I N N Y

"a real barn burner" i'm gonna use that expression from now on omg

wtf is a cronut, i'm googling that... oooh that looks so good

ALTA VISTA

god ned is such an old man and i love him

these are not good questions to ask ned holy fucking shit

welp, i immediately hate zeke, fuck smokers >:T

... was neilly in with the pine guard?

ned what the fuck is this speech???

NED FUCKING CHICANE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?????

"ned's not a hero" fuckin hell

ned my boy that was absolutely fucked

... bivwak???

ned what the hell 

why did you choose this voice griffin, all i can picture is kravitz

this is such a weird ass scene, what is going on griffin

BOYD???

i was picturing a skinny twig the whole time wtf

what the fuck

"i require fluid" g r i f f i n

yay, aubrey time :)

... i have completely forgotten what this character looks like

oh aubrey baby :'(

this is very good, very very good

... what the flying fuck does this mean griffin, what do you mean the planet is alive?????

this is so weird and i have no idea where this is going 

my baby :'(((

well this got fucking terrifying fast

i love this cute lil girl

WAIT WHAT, HOLY FUCK

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, I TAKE IT BACK, I DON’T LIKE THE WEIRD LITTLE GIRL ANYMORE

IS AUBREY READING HER MIND??? WHAT IS THIS?????

OH SHIT WHAT IS GOING ON

AUBREY NO 

god that is such an ocd mood

AUBREY NO YOU FUCKED UP SO BAD

travis that is going to bite you in the ass later i can feel it

OH SHIT WHAT

THIS MUSIC IS SO FUCKING CREEPY 

HOLY SHIT IS IT KILLING HER????? OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

THIS IS BAD, THIS IS VERY VERY BAD, NO NO NO NO NO

WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN??????????

where did duck get handcuffs tho?

that was so bad justin omg

"it's a clever ruse" god i love duck

"NO WE ARE NOT CROSSING OVER" griffin is so done omg

aubrey ilu

aww ned 

"can we say them?" aubrey ilu

oh its a boy goatman :o

that's the sound of a dm not prepared to give an npc dialouge lol

bless you clint

oh snap, that's very obvious, that could be problematic later

here comes the plot twist music :D

WHAT AM I MEANT TO MAKE OF THAT? IS THAT VINCENT??? HAS THE GOAT IMPRINTED ON DUCK SOMEHOW????? WHAT??????????

in conclusion: i have no idea what the hell is going on but i’m very excited. i don’t want to keep using balance as a measuring stick for amnesty because that’s not fair to either story, but i’m getting the same sort of “i have no idea how all these plot threads connect but they sure are going somewhere interesting” vibes i got listening to crystal kingdom for the first time. see you all next right thursday!!!