#serious question how do people make high quality gifs

[slushi-chan]

I made more low quality Jeffrey Combs gifs cuz my phone murders the quality most of the time

[imjustabeanie]

Hello again! This is my submission for a love and deepspace romantic matchup (*^▽^) And thank you so much for being patient with my questions!

For starters, I use she/her pronouns and my sexuality is tentatively demisexual since I'm still experimenting. My zodiac sign is also cancer, while my enneagram and mbti type is 2w1 and INFX (I'm still really unsure if I'm an INFJ or INFP).

Then for my personality, I'm usually shy, awkward, and reserved, so I struggle to talk and connect with people. I also can be pretty insecure. But despite that, I'm also known by my peers as kind, sweet, and hardworking since I'm generally nice when talked to, while also being considerate to others and diligent in my work. I've also been described by my close friends and family to be playful and energetic when I open up or when I'm with the right people, since I can affectionately tease/be a menace and act really bubbly when I'm feeling it. They've also said I can be pretty empathetic, which drives me to give emotional support and (apparently) good advice.

But I also have some flaws, specifically being perfectionistic, too much of a workaholic, an overthinker, and a bit self - sacrificial. I sometimes work myself to the bone in order to have something that fits my high expectations due to my fear of failure. I am also too cautious and anxious when it comes to taking risks or seeing the positive in a situation, which is funny since I'm pretty idealistic. I also tend to put other's needs before my own, and it results in me having difficulty in sharing my feelings and forgetting to take care of myself.

As for my hobbies, I really love playing games (especially vns), reading, writing, and listening to music (specifically musicals, j-pop, and indie pop). I'm really passionate about them all since I love exploring and sometimes analyzing the creativity, emotions, and depth that goes into it. Although I will occasionally take walks (especially in the rain) when I need a break from my mind.

Lastly for my love languages and deal breakers, my love languages are quality time and words of affirmation for both receiving and giving. Then as for deal breakers, I dislike people who are arrogant, cruel, and dishonest. I also find it a deal breaker if someone is too stoic or uptight, but not because I dislike it, but because I think we would clash due to us being too similar.

Hopefully this wasn't too much info, I tried my best to edit it as much as I could. Anyways, take care, and there's no rush to do this immediately! Thank you and have a nice day (*´∀`)♪

Your match is Rafayel!

Xavier was a close second to be honest. But Rafayel is more playful and would help you out with your workaholism. He's a great distraction.

You're the nicest of the couple while he's just his usual bratty self. Rafayel still admires your kind self and just makes sure that you don't get taken advantage of. But when you decide to be a menace he'll be your n1 enabler.

Rafayel loves ranting to you. Yes he does take your advices to heart but ranting is his sport and he feels comfortable doing it with you. When your flaws kick in Rafayel is here to the rescue. He'll scold you and show you how good your work is and then takes you out on a surprise date. Rafayel likes surprise dates. He's a very spontaneous lover who lives in the present. It makes the relationship very dynamic. But he knows when to get serious and won't interfer with your work unless you're over doing it. Rafayel also likes staying at home and dancing with some music in the background. He tries to play video games with you but he's bad and pouts when he looses. He likes physical touch too.

He may be a little arrogant with other but he loves you in his own way

[t0kidal]

Return From Origins Part 4

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(Ok! Time for serious talk, serious talk only here.)

Part 3 ; Masterlist

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After relocating to Kalego’s office:

“You knew that those who returned to origins have decided to devote their lives to destruction beyond all reasoning and whatever the hell they want with no regards for their rank and the rank of others as well as their own safety and the well being of others! Why! How could you make that decision! Are you out of your mind!?”

“… I returned to origins because I couldn’t stand living by the laws of people who left me behind. And that those laws, both social and legal, allowed those who were merely physically stronger than me to cause me harm or challenge me…”

“And what about us? Opera, Shichiro, Me? Were we not enough for you? Were we not there for you to help when you needed us?!”

“You were, You were enough for me... but that’s the worst part... that I chose to throw that tantrum despite that. Maybe in an effort to prove my own strength and determine my own capabilities because I couldn’t stand leeching onto the three of you.”

“... You left… turned your back on demon society.”

“I left so that I wouldn’t hurt anyone at Babyls...”

“Yes, and instead you chose to terrorize some obscure village in turn.”

“BECAUSE THEY DIDN’T MEAN AS MUCH TO ME!”

“...”

After a long pause...

“... What made you come back?”

“I was bored... and I noticed over time… that things started to change… I started to miss what I had…”

“... sigh”

He was torn. But you knew that he would choose his duty over this waning relationship, after all both of you might only say "we went to school together" and nothing more. You really did miss them... but perhaps because you weren’t strong enough to forgive your clan for disappearing, you weren’t able to keep the demons who were there for you later in life. 

“I’m not a forgiving demon… Shichiro told me you were on probation of some kind, so as Babyls’ guard dog, consider the fact that I’m watching you. Pull anything out of line or put any of the students here in danger and I will put. you. down.”

“Understood. I wouldn’t have it any other way, Kalego.”

He pauses at his name, but doesn’t say anything else.

“Ah, before I forget, I have a son now.”

“WHAAAT!?”

~~~

As expected, when betrayed, that dog won’t forgive easily. But hopefully, with time, you could learn to trust each other again.

For now, it’s all about Iruma-

Something bumps into you as you made your way back to the library.

“I-I’m so sorry, Ms.-!!”

Your eyes lock, and the nameless student freezes in fear. 

‘Hm? Are they actually frozen?’ 

That’s not the best quality to have when trying to survive in the netherworld...

“E-EEP! I’MSORRY IT WON’THAPPEN AGAIN!” they quickly yell and run off.

‘At least they were polite about it...’ 

But this does raise the question on what to do about your eyes... 

Contacts would be the most secure than glasses... though generally uncomfortable.

Such musings followed you back to the library where you continued to think whilst organizing some of the books there.

Perhaps... a veil? Most of the time only demons of high society wore those... and while they were held as a status symbol as well as a fashion piece there was a kind of... allure to them that you thought wouldn’t suit your current state of wild hair and body build from life in the wilderness.

Maybe if you had stayed.

“Y/n-chan~!”

Ah, the principal.

“Hello, Sullivan.”

“Hm~ I just thought I’d stop by and give you a little something that should help you during your time here~”

He presents a simple, metal, blind mask. Nothing too ornate save for gentle inked etchings. (hhhhhh spent so long looking for a reference, it’s just “fatui mask” from genshin or whatever you want to imagine there.)

Your concerns with having your vision inhibited are eased as you retained full vision, must’ve been due to some magic...

“It suits you~!”

“Thank you again, Sullivan... for everything really.”

“It was no problem~!”

“I have a question though... what exactly do you get out of me being part of your clan? You and I both know that as... well... myself, it doesn’t reflect well.”

“On the contrary~! I think having you around would be good for Iruma! And I get to have a lovely daughter! Though she is a little rough around the edges! Not to mention, this is an opportunity to see if the harm caused by the Netherworld’s shortcomings could be redeemed...” 

His voice takes on a more serious tone. You had heard that he was around to witness the demon king’s disappearance... perhaps the backlash from such could be partially to blame for your own mistakes, but that isn’t entirely true. For now, for the sake of those who come after (who will do better), it’s best to suck up and ensure they don’t go astray.

“Wait, did you say daughter?”

“Well what else would you be?”

“Uh... some kind of proxy... or something...”

“Now now, because if Iruma is my grandson, and you’re his mom it’s only logical that you’re my daughter~! You are his mom yes~?” he peers at you from behind his spectacles. 

“I’m... yes, I’m his mom...” saying it aloud sounded condemning... not that you minded though.

“And don’t worry~! Opera and I will be there to help him grow!”

“That’s... a relief... I actually wanted to talk to you about his education.”

“Of Course!”

You spent the rest of your evening like that, till it was time to return to your son at least, talking about methods to teach him how to survive.

You knew it would be a little risky but you really wanted to teach him survival as soon as possible. Sullivan, reasonably hesitant on the matter, eventually relented on the grounds that either Opera or him would supervise. 

Mostly because your idea of survival training would be to live like a wild hell beast again. But, you both agreed that that could wait till Iruma was a little older than infancy.

~~~

You’re back with Iruma again. 

He’s staring at you, a little fatter now, but that was for the better.

Perfect for belly raspberries and chubby cheek kissies. 

How could you even describe this feeling.

“gaa!”

“Yes, yes, you’re so lovely and cute Iruma~”

Unconditional love. It felt like a warm beam of sun on a clear autumn day. It felt like being encompassed in a little den, like the hell deer and their little fauns or the dire bear and her cubs. It felt like hope, and anticipation for the days ahead that you two would get to share. It was like a whole other welcoming world you were familiar with but completely foreign to. 

“My little Iruma~ I love you.”

Yes, the words ‘I love you’ might never be spoken to anyone else other than this little bundle of joy, this complete adoration and devotion to another in such a way that you would flip the world upside down if only to protect your son.

Your Son. Your beautiful baby boy.

Should his biological parents even dare to approach him after leaving behind such a gift of life and love you weren’t sure what you’d do. 

Probably go ape shit.

“Iruma~ Mamamamama. You... you have so much room to grow...”

That afternoon nothing could be heard but a bit of baby talk and whispered wonders of the love of a mother for her child. It filled the room, it floated on the air like a blessing, it traveled through the cracks under the door and into the cracks in your heart and sealed them shut.

Every moment in your life couldn’t compare to the opportunity handed to you, to love and be loved like there was no other. You’d hope that everyone might be able to feel like this one day.

~~~

(Thank you for waiting! I was thinking about how I should go forward with writing this piece in addition to The Alef. I wanted clean writing but clean writing, as I realized backreading everything, felt... a little sterile and didn’t capture the right essence I wanted for each moment portrayed in the story.

Hopefully it’ll be a smooth transition to a more flexible writing style.)

[onewomancitadel]

on your thoughts on knightfall becoming canon ( how high do you believe thats possible like if this was gambling how much stock would you put into it)

I think it's worth emphasising that I constantly make note of my own personal cautiousness about the matter, mostly because I think that's just part-and-parcel of the analytic procedure. Lol.

By nature with works-in-progress you can absolutely never account for authorial whimsy, even if at a minimum you accept that there needs to be canonical intelligibility to any given fan theory - and authorial whimsy can be anything from realising a better idea actually works to draw out your original intentions (this is why the appeal to the 'original pure idea' is usually wrong, because it's not really one-way like that) to actual handovers or conflict of creators/creative vision to it simply being revealed they had very different ideas than what were originally conveyed because it took time for that to come through to simply being kind of stupid.

What's frustrating to me is that a lot of naysayers think that the conversation begins and ends with, 'It's not that deep,' or 'it's not that smart'; it's an easy position to argue from because people assume it's an argument which doesn't necessitate evidence. You don't need to think that hard. What you actually need to do is demonstrate where it isn't thoughtful, and where I would generally agree that, say, the White Fang has poor execution, in terms of its thematic ideas (which in part contribute to some of its tone-deafness), it is actually totally thematically consistent. But most of the fandom doesn't think that a nonviolent solution to the conflict with Salem is possible or even on the cards, so they're never going to be reading these broader ideas into an earlier plotline in the show, and they're never going to connect the redemption and reformation of the White Fang to the redemption and reformation of the bad guys in the story who are all deeply hurting in their own ways (no, Adam was not set up for a redemption arc and is a corrupting force), and I think most people would tell you that the reunion between the Faunus and humans comes off tone-deaf to a lot of modern social justice movements - but it's describing individual psychological harmony - and to be totally fair, I do think that they misused the allegory in a serious way. It's the danger of allegory. Once you introduce magical animal people, I don't think a social justice allegory works, but I think this is a case of where they prioritised the ideas they had (nonviolence, psychological harmony) over the execution proper, and then in addition to that were clumsy and yes, perpetuating racist - and everything else - ideas about the way people are supposed to fight for their freedom.

But I also wouldn't say that the Faunus storyline runs counter to the ideas of the story in any way. Not at all. I think that's where you can identify the fallout.

So the question isn't even necessarily grounded in, 'Is this story stupid?' but, 'Is this story coherent?' which don't always mean the same thing and don't always speak to the same sort of quality. Because I find the friendship is magic stuff bullshit, and at first I thought it was just stupid, but with Cinder and Ruby's respective development, I am basically led to believe it is stupid. It is stupid, and that's coherent - the overemphasis of it has led to a refusal to confront and accept the necessity and transformation of pain, and the beauty which grows from that. This is why I don't really think Pyrrha is the stickling point for the pairing, since her and the Fall of Beacon - which makes the abstract personal for Jaune - basically sets the romance up.

But the point I was working towards is that it needs to be demonstrated where the story is not thoughtful. The difference with RWBY is that most of it is thoughtful. Character arcs are basically connected, basic narrative events are foreshadowed, the romances have thematic- and plot-work to do in the story, the allusions have meaningful employment most of the time. All of it's beholden to Ozlem. It's actually working towards some greater idea and it has specific goals in mind about resolving Salem and Ozma's conflict and about situating Ruby in the story (particularly across this volume). Why her? What's the point of all the little heroes in the story? Of course, what you're fighting uphill against in this fandom is that a lot of angry people online don't appreciate basic storytelling tools. They have a severe case of the narrative cynicisms and literalism, and frankly, this is an ideology which gains traction in the world of outrage and easy clicks and contrarianism just for the pure sake of it. This is more extreme than just, 'Why does the good guy always win?', like asking fundamental and interesting questions, but more like a complete rejection of character transformation. A lot of people view static character as being logical, and especially power fantasy as being logical, which means a total rejection of most events in the show. Or then you've got simple tonal mismatch where people think it's the bestfriendsforever show.

I'm making this case here because it's not actually a simple question. Jaune/Cinder is a serious polemic. It's not a twee power fantasy romance, it's not guy gets the girl as a reward, it's not hero/villain for the sake of it because it's hot, it's actually much more than that and if you came to the ship through that reasoning, that's fine, but that's not the angle I'm arguing from and it's not the angle that I think it's being argued through in the show either.

The case you have to make for Jaune/Cinder is both a thematic one and a character one, because even amongst people who believe in Cinder's redemption, most of them would tell you that job belongs to Emerald, and others might say Ruby. Why would romance be relevant here? Why would Jaune not just end up with Weiss or whichever female character gets relegated to narrative obscurity? It's a positive case which has to be made because what you're relying on is RWBY having some sense of intelligible, consistent (consistent) storytelling, which is thematically motivated, with specific ideas it needs answered - why is the power of friendship the one to fail, why can no one reach Cinder? - which doesn't lean into puerile self-insert power fantasy or the easy, lazy answer, or just the guy waiting patiently until the pretty princess notices him now he's a good boy with almost zero narrative consequences. The much more radical idea to me is that Jaune's character development actually has serious narrative consequences in respect to Cinder's character arc and redemption. You've tied the romance to a major turn-the-tide event and now you've got justification. It's not there for shits and giggles or because it would make a handful of Redditors happy.

(Yes, I do think the interactions Cinder has with the Maidens are calculated, and they have done work to tease out Cinder's specific growth over the past few volumes. But I do think it can be said that every redemption arc so far and yes, every romance has had specific people involved for specific reasons).

But the problem here is that I think the average naysayer would say RWBY isn't that smart (or that Jaune/Cinder is problematic, but you're watching the wrong show if so). Of course, that's why I refer to the canon romances so, and especially the prominence of Ozlem in the story. No other romance best realises Ozlem in such literal reversal. It is curious that Jaune/Cinder mirrors Ruby/Oscar interactions. It is curious that Jaune/Weiss mirrors Blake/Sun in the time of a Volume 4 reprisal-ish when V5 followed on with a serious volume-finisher indicating Blake/Yang and oh yeah, that very one also had the best interaction of all time in the show with Jaune and Cinder. It is curious that the canon romances all in some way line up in ways that Jaune/Weiss doesn't, and even curiouser that Jaune/Cinder does. The romances in RWBY are embedded in the plot. They realise specific ideas. This is foreign to a lot of people who think romance is when people blush at each other and make funny jokes and kiss. Good, interesting, justified, passionate, transformational, heart-moving, soul-touching romance is more than that, and it's part of what I like about RWBY's execution of the romances, because it speaks to a sensibility I appreciate. This isn't radical stuff necessarily, it's just radical to paint-by-numbers understandings of storytelling.

I'm not saying that Jaune/Cinder will be canon. I'm not a gambler. It's really hard to make predictions based off of a work in progress because you have an incomplete synthesis of ideas which can recontextualise everything that's been said.

It's kind of like how most people didn't twig that Cinder is sympathetic up until they made it really obviously textual until Volume 8 to most people (in my opinion it was the end of V7, but in terms of reaction that's when it was). It changes all her previous characterisation because now you understand there's an intended complexity there. Ironwood's fall casts his previous characterisation in a different light in addition to casting more ambiguity over Ozma himself and what Ozma had to handle with Lionheart - it makes Lionheart's loss more profound. I can say that right now Jaune/Weiss doesn't and didn't mirror the canon romance developments, and across this volume it hasn't, but the only point that seriously makes me question it is her casting him into the abyss. Whilst I can identify that as a parallel with Raven-Cinder (Vault fight) and Oscar-Ironwood (Vault fight) where it takes place in a magical place which can reach back into the normal world (a reverse of the Vaults), on the other hand it's the only thing that's given the pairing any remote complexity/drama which is a necessity for all of the pairings (think Blake leaving Yang and the Adam problem, Ren/Nora's backstories and Mantle/Atlas, Ruby and Oscar with the Ozma curse and lying to Ironwood, and then for Emerald/Mercury - well, need I say?). On the other hand, I was really weirded out that Weiss was never personally made uncomfortable with the Penny situation, and at present it seems more like something to inject complexity into Ruby's partnership with Weiss and further influence Ruby's disillusionment. Then once you get into Ruby-Cinder parallels, right now, Jaune being able to help Ruby who is remarkably paralleled with a certain Fall Maiden... does set him up for something else.

But the point I'm trying to make is that even if I could say to you, oh, Jaune/Weiss has almost no development and no paralleled development to the other canon romances crossvolumes, if the present development with Weiss hurling him into the abyss by accident actually addresses that, then you can mark up the Jaune/Weiss development to inconsistency and/or an about turn. Authorial whimsy. They might've changed their mind, or they might've not have wanted to draw scrutiny to the relationship at all until Jaune aged up and was more 'mature' for the pairing, or they might've considered the barren interaction of the awakening of his Semblance sufficient development until then... which it was not, especially because we never got anything between them and Weiss' development with her family in Atlas. Jaune's familial struggles should've come up in respect to that. That is so obvious it hurts! The Arc and Schnee inheritances should be central to the pairing. They've not abandoned either idea with them - in fact who Jaune is 'supposed' to be is one of his central character wounds, which hurts him, in respect to the way Weiss actually wants to reform her family name. Jaune wants to get away from it, Weiss doesn't. So why isn't and hasn't there been any development there whatsoever? Why is his initial crush on her actually tied up in something which hurt him, especially as this volume revisits this idea of the made-up hero he can't be? (Of course, that he's a real yet imperfect hero is the point).

They might've even just thought it'd be funny to put Jaune and Weiss together.

Because Jaune/Cinder hinges on narrative relevance for both Jaune and Cinder. It's giving Cinder a romance when most people don't think about that in respect to her except as a fetish thing which squarely puts her in a position of redeeming Ozlem and addressing her own character wounds (the truth is that nobody's ever loved you). It means that Jaune's presence in the story is completely justified by virtue of being the one to reach out to Cinder when it seemed impossible and seemed absolutely absurd and heretical (yeah I'm pulling the Joan of Arc allusion out here). He's not just here for the laugh of it; there's a quiet little love story between them against the backdrop of the epic spectacle. Ever since Volume 1 people have speculated over their narrative connections. I remember people predicting Cinder was going to be the one to kill Jaune, and I remember shock at the fact that it was Pyrrha and not him.

So I find it beautiful that such a curiosity was warranted, but it's actually contextually realised differently. It's because they'll fall in love. It's a positive subversion.

Is their romance and their respective character arcs actually that relevant to be in question since Volume 1? I think you can make the case for Cinder more because of her redemption and because of the Maiden power, and honestly with this volume, yes, I do think it's easier to make the case for Jaune now than it ever was before, especially as they didn't dismiss the aftermath of Penny but actually broke him even harder than I thought they would. Critically, their romance involves the Crown of Choice (a confrontation over this is near-inevitable, they're the last two survivors of the Beacon Vault), which seems maybe the only certain prediction I can make if their romance is canon.

If you weren't thinking that hard about his character? You would write Jaune/Weiss. If you weren't thinking that hard about Cinder's redemption, and you just finangle its evolution at the last minute? You wouldn't write Jaune/Cinder. Jaune/Cinder by necessity involves carefulness. It doesn't necessarily speak to a perfect execution, but it does speak to coherency, and it does speak to the fundamental ideas to the story, and yes, it does speak to idealism being valued in the story. Resolving Cinder's wounded idealism and prioritising nonviolence and seeing and not just looking and getting the missing side of the story even when she is someone who has broken you (and has the capacity to build you back up) is a tall order, but it's also magical and it does rest on validating fairytales in the story, but in a complicated way, because the dragon and the maiden are one. Why does there have to be a bad guy? Why is Cinder the bad guy? Can they meet in the middle? Jaune and Cinder is about meeting in the middle, even when it's deeply questionable to both sides and would potentially compromise them both.

The question of Jaune/Cinder isn't simply about my dollies kissing - it is about that, to be fair, and I'm not ashamed of it - but to my eyes, it is also what I find valuable about RWBY. It reaffirms RWBY's best ideas. It affirms its ideas, its playful storytelling, its particular intentions with the romances, its sense of transformational redemption. So I think Jaune/Cinder has the possibility to be canon insofar as it follows through on what's it set up and it's coherent and its character development is purposeful and actually, everything about it is purposeful. Jaune has hijinks this volume with team RWBY, sure, but it's also the Old Man and the Four Maidens. It's hard to read his interactions with the Winter Maiden as romantic, especially as she's the first to get through to him, so he can finally go find the Fall Maiden who's run away. But then why make Jaune so obviously and painfully Ozma-coded? Is it because there's a certain, other, actual Fall Maiden, not analogue, who herself has a Grimm curse much alike to Salem? Is it purposeful? Am I supposed to be thinking?

I don't pay much attention to Jaune/Cinder naysayers (and there are a lot of them) because I like RWBY. I like what it's got going for it and I think it's fun and joyful, and I like its sense of spectacle, and most of all I think it's sincere. I don't think Jaune/Weiss or any other Jaune ship is sincere and it would mean that I probably really had no reason to trust in any of Jaune's development or even really the other romances, because what's the point? Once you break what makes them all special, I don't see why I should be invested. Because you can only make a coherent argument for Blake/Yang throughout the show on a basis which conflicts with Jaune/Weiss or indeed even Jaune/Pyrrha.

I also think it has the potential to be the greatest, most thrilling, unexpected yet totally sensical romance of all time. So sue me. I think it's fucking clever, and if that cleverness isn't there, then I don't know if I have any specific reason to care about RWBY.

I couldn't tell you whether I'd gamble on it. I tentatively hope. But deep down I'm a cynic and I've been burnt before and my trust in something so good happening just isn't there - and this is why I hate people telling me this, because I already think it.

But then there's that terrible part of me which can't help but wonder, and I guess that's why I keep writing posts even when it's a controversial ship... I want characters like Jaune and Cinder to see their hopes reaffirmed. I'd like a hopeful story. I'd like a story which gives a shit. I'd like my own hopes to be affirmed, I suppose, even when it seems impossible.

[kittycatsco]

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What do they want, a cute, adorable furrball BUT NOT ONE that has the personality of a trainwreck, destined to destroy every porcelain decoration in their home.   Rehoming happens because personality mismatches are a huge reality.  Sure, I might have made $2,500.00, but how is the long-term personality match, this is the match-making question that has become the reality of shelter overcrowding that is not being addressed.  So let's take a closer look at what we, as ethical breeders can do.                                                  Let's Role Play a Moment as The Breeder With The Potential PURRent   Yes, potential Purrent, she is an adorable little love bug with the most beautiful features in the pictures, but I see in your questionnaire that you want to be able to train her to walk on a leash and ride in cars. Is this correct?  Yes, answers the potential purrent.  We like to go on trips and we plan to walk her just like a dog. Well, I am not saying she isn't capable of it, but being with her from the start, she is the submissive hider type. She doesn't show the personality trait You're looking for, but if You'd consider the male, he's the outgoing one that really seems to fit more of your active outdoor lifestyle and seems like he'd be the one that would be confident walking on the leash. In fact, Would You Like me to start training him before You pick him up? People Make Choices Out Of Desire And Emotions - Not Always Common Sense So Moms and Dads, we all know our children have unique personalities, desires and dreams of their own, no matter what family business they may stand to inherit, they may still go another direction out of desire and emotion. I am a real life cattle rancher, and I will tell you the saying is true; You Can Lead a Horse To Water, But You Can't Make Him Drink. The phrase is a proverb that means you can provide someone with a nice opportunity, but you can't make them take it if they don't want to.   The Take-Away - We Bring Desire And Emotion To Them  They Want To Take The Drink of Water - They Just Need To Learn How To Drink    Refer back to the questionnaire and the personality types. I see here that the kitten you seek may be a social media type of personality.  Great! What kind of personality or unique features are you looking for?____________ (Let them answer the question). Well, I'd love a spotted white kitten with blue and green eyes that will ride on my bicycle with me. So looks and temperament are very important! Well, I don't have that but I do have _____.  (STOP IT) Trust me, if you don't have the kitten that fits the bill that they are seeking, (in this case a showpiece and an outgoing confident cat that will love being outside), don't continue. This is not ethical matchmaking.  They will break up out of frustration. If You do not have a cat that meets this criterion, move on. Perhaps refer him to another breeder with confident outgoing cats or that breed type, if You can. Yes, cats can be trained or made to function to some degree, and then they may pee all over your clothes basket when your not looking out of sheer inner rage and terror. Now, the PURRent has another issue to deal with and happiness is not one of the issues.   Know Your Kittens Purrsonality And Properly Place Them   So I have this kitten, he's called Wicked, he's a wild looking 24-toed polydactyl - Scottish Fold. He resmbles the looks like a python snake pattern. The example here is:  His Personality is athletic, outgoing, loving, and all around, OMG. Gorgeous and rare. His colors are so stunning with silver-blue and black stripes, marbles, and hazel eyes, he would blend right into the scenery of a movie set for King Kong, the newest version where all the creatures come to life and attack the crew) or the Jurassic park movie. The point is, his personality type is destined to be with a like personality type human.  This little guy will walk on a leash and is training to do this inside now.  He balances the perfect standing groundhog stance for 30 plus seconds, and is not the average type.  He deserves to have an outgoing lifestyle with an outgoing human family. The PURRfect Match Survey Pours The Glass of Water For You So Everyone Involved CAN Taste It And Savor It. Match Making - Just Like The Reality Show Without The Glitz and Fakiness. You have the first part of the match - Now we find the other half and put them together. We Wish To Bring Back The Love For Specific Breeds, High Quality Cats With Excellent health, And Help Reduce Shelters, Which All Comes Back To Securing The Right PURRents From The Start, By Matching PURRsonalities, Not Just Breed, But The Actual Temperaments Of The Kittens In The Litter That We Know Best. Our Position Is Correct Match Making For The Right Reasons. Read the full article

[pinkysberg]

adrian chase sfw alphabet

uh oh I'm obsessed with him. also this is gender neutral and i have written him kind of autistic bc i am autistic so. if u r looking for autistic adrian uhh i don't know here ig. *edit: i read this back again and there r so many typos n minor mistakes lmao. i write high and “proof read” high so. <3

adrian chase x reader (gender neutral) 2.4k words

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Adrian isn’t overtly affectionate. He’s honest and blunt about how he feels about the people around him, and likes to talk up those he cares about. He’s big on words of affirmation and quality time. Though, he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy physicality to a degree, he’s just less likely to initiate it until he begins to notice it might be someone you enjoy or becomes built into his relative routine.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Adrian likely meets you in at least one of his lines of work, and finds you just about as appealing as he finds Chris (maybe even more so but don’t tell Chris (Chris doesn’t care)). Any free time Adrian has, it’s spent around you. He obviously enjoys being around the people he cares about as often as they’re willing to allow him to be around. He’s going to spam your phone with memes, tiktoks, links whatever that remind him of you, or he thinks you’d laugh at, or just things he personally enjoyed, who knows if you care at all! He just wants to show it to you. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

If cuddling is something you enjoy, he’s always prepared. If it becomes routine, he’ll begin asking for it. If you initiate it, it’s likely he’ll want to hold you, wether it be him being big spoon or him wrapping his arms around you while you lie on his chest. He likes to feel like he’s protecting you, making you feel safe. But if he initiates it, it’s likely he’ll want to be held. Wants to rest his head in your lap, arms twisted loosely around your middle. Sometimes he needs to be held for a little while after particularly hard days at work (whatever job it may pertain to that day)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

If you asked Adrian if he ever wanted to settle down, he’d say he hasn’t thought of it and he’s far too busy with Vigilante (and he’s depended on around here, you know!!) to settle down any time soon. He also can’t cook. He’s a toaster and microwave meal kind of guy, for the sake of convenience more than anything but after relying on them for so long and never really developing any real cooking skills he’s a bit hopeless in the kitchen. (Does like to pester you if you’re in the kitchen though. Head resting on your shoulder at the stove or sink type of deal. Lots of questions about what exactly you’re doing). He is very clean though. The cleanliness of his space matters to him, and he’s gotten very good at getting almost anything out of his clothing. (for multiple reasons) He’s a stress cleaner, and he also must ensure everything is in it’s place. Wherever that may be. I mean, practically the first scene we see him in, he’s cleaning Chris’s place for him. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Once he’s settled into a relationship, it’s unlikely he’d ever make the decision to leave himself. You’d struggle to get rid of him if that’s what you wanted. If he was ever in a position where he was breaking up with someone he’d go to Chris, who’d redirect him to Amelia, who would redirect again to Leota who would immediately tell Adrian he cannot kill someone as a way of ending a relationship.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Despite not wanting to settle down, Adrian just views marriage as a level up. It doesn’t necessarily mean to him that he has to settle down, so the moment he feels he’s wanting to get more serious with you, can imagine himself doing this for the rest of time, he’s getting on his knee. It may come super rushed or several years in. Its unlikely that it’d change his demeanour in the relationship outside of him leaning into saying cheesy things about you two being married every other sentence. He’d get a kick out of introducing you to people as his fiance(e) and eventually his spouse, he’d want to tell everyone. He doesn’t necessarily treat marriage as seriously as everyone else, but he does understand it’s significance to others, so when he’s finally married he does enjoy the idea of being someone’s husband. Makes him feel special. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Almost shockingly gentle. For someone very capable of harm, he has a delicate touch when necessary. He’s stronger than he appears and his general dorkiness takes the edge off his extremely violent tendencies. But he is still very capable of being dangerous, so his soft touch comes as a welcome surprise. Enjoys dragging his fingertips in gentle patterns on your skin, or absently musing with fly away hairs around your hairline. He’s not the most emotionally gentle individual, given he has his own unique way of experiencing emotions, he comes off both blunt and oblivious, but at his core he means well and is genuine.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Initially, not a hugger. He seemed to lock up and get tense, a brief embrace with a slight pat on the back and that was it. However, once he warms up to physical contact, he actually really likes hugs. He loves to bear hug people and attempt to lift them, no matter how heavy they may be. He has yet to get Chris more than half an inch off the ground but by God, does the man try. He also loves goodbye hugs, likes to bury his face in the juncture of your neck, arms wrapped as tight as he can get them around your middle. He’ll squeeze you and take a deep breath before withdrawing and taking off. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He throws I Love Yous around like candy. It’s almost synonymous with thank you. He’ll say I love you if you bring him a snack, hand him something, listen to his cool fact, laugh at his joke, hold the door open for him. It’s significant to him but in the same breath, will say it for very minor reasons, so it comes out pretty fast.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Adrian isn’t an overtly jealous person. He struggles with making genuine connections, so he gets possessive of the connections he is able to make, but he’s unlikely to recognize it as jealousy and wouldn’t make it anyone else’s problem. But he will compete for attention if he feels you’re paying him less attention than you usually do.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Loves kissing. It’s one of his favourite pass-times. He likes to kiss hello, kiss goodbye, kiss good morning and kiss goodnight. Casual make out sessions are unmatched for him. There’s something very comfort about hands cradling his jaw, or brushing his hair backward as his lips work against yours slowly. He has a hard time stopping once he’s started, you’ll have to pull away and that’s when he’ll breathe out, “one more.” and press several more short kisses to your lips (and surrounding face) before reluctantly releasing you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Keep your kids away from this man, he’s a public safety concern. Great with kids under supervision, likes to play and indulge them in their games but also would offer to let them blow up appliances until an responsible adult intervenes.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Adrian has a pretty strict morning routine, he likes to wake up at the same time and get through his same sequence of tasks (awake at 5:30am, 30 minute work out, shower, plain omelette with black coffee, and brush teeth) and would prefer to complete them in the same order each day. This way he doesn’t miss anything. He tries to lift himself out of bed without disturbing you, padding out of the room as silently as he can. He gets through his tasks as quietly as he can too. Once he gets through this, though, he’ll flop back into bed on his front if you’re still there, resting his head on your chest or stomach. He’d hum quietly as you move to brush a hand through his hair. “Morning.” He mumbles, muffled by your pyjamas and sheets. Once you’re out of bed, he makes the bed every morning. (It’s very important to him)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Much like the morning, he has a routine but its much less intense. He likes to shower again -  because he insists he doesn’t want to take day dirt into the bed - and brush his teeth. He likes to turn the bed down himself, he feels quite particular about how the sheets are laying against him while he’s settling into bed. Once he gets settled, he’ll likely try and (not so) subtly ask you to kiss him a while before you two fall asleep. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

For someone who talks so much he doesn’t say much. Getting anything sincere out of Adrian is like pulling teeth. He struggles with being vulnerable because he’s used to having his unconventional feelings belittled or laughed at. He tends to use his chattiness and general humour as a way to avoid having to figure out how to communicate his feelings. He’s slow to give away personal details, his privacy matters a lot to him. However, he’s also loose lipped so he is prone to dropping random details about himself but finds a way to dance around elaborating if he’s pressed about it. It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell you things, more so he’s not sure when or how is the right way after rarely having his feelings validated.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Excessively patient. Rarely angry. He’s a gentle soul at his core, in some strange way. It takes an immense amount to get under his skin and even if you do he’s pretty quick to get over the matter too, almost forgetting he’s mad in the first place. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Adrian has remembered every single detail about you, wether it’s something he notices himself or something he’s told it is locked away for good. He could clear a jeopardy board on facts about you with ease. Even if it’s something minor you can’t imagine mattering much, like a particular movie you enjoyed as a kid, he comes to you randomly with some old t-shirt with the movie title screen printed onto it, he says he found it at a thrift store and remembered you liked the movie. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Adrian remembers the moment you learned he was Vigilante and didn’t leave or resent it for him as a highlight. His identity as Vigilante is important to him, it’s significant and it’s something that often hinders his ability to form real connections with people. So, when you accepted him as he is, it was all he could do but sweep you up in a dramatic hug and press a flurry of kisses around your face as you fight back laughter.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Adrian can borderline on smothering with the degree of protectiveness he goes to. Likes to know where you are, is where you are safe? Do you have all the things you need, will you be warm enough? He goes to great lengths to ensure that you not only feel safe but that he feels like he’s keeping you safe. He would insist, however, he doesn’t need anyone to look after him. And while he does take pretty good care of himself, he doesn’t mind being doted on. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Maximum effort at all times. Adrian has never half assed anything in his life and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give you 200% effort every day. He loves to plan flashy, ridiculous dates (sometimes you even have to talk his plan down when he gets too ahead of himself and starts suggesting things out of your scope of capability). Acts of service are a love language for Adrian, so he’s always doing something kind for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has an awful work life balance. He has spent most of his time at work or being Vigilante, so he struggles with working time for you into his schedule initially. It’s not that he doesn’t want to spend his time with you, he’s just slow to adapt to new life situations.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Despite being almost criminally adorable, he does not know nor care. He likes to look presentable, clean and orderly, but generally speaking he doesn’t pay much attention to looking nice. Outside of his very strict fitness routine but that’s because he has to keep up with Chris, okay.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Once he’s more or less incorporated you into his life, he’d have a hard time restructuring his life without you. He’s a slow adjuster always, and losing you would be no different. So he definitely clings to the relationship as best he can.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Has a pet rat :) Introducing you to the rat is like introducing you to a child. 

[librarianandguardian]

Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Word Count : ~2300

Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns

Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot

Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D

GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.

French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.

From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.

Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.

« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.

-Ever went there ?»

His friend chuckled.

« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»

It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.

« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?

-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »

Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.

« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.

-Alright doll, eat me up. »

(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.

Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.

« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.

-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »

Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.

« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»

The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.

« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.

-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.

-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»

Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.

A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.

« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »

The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.

« How can you still dance, uh ?»

With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.

« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»

Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.

« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»

She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.

«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »

His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.

« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »

She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.

An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.

« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»

Saul tilted his head to the side.

« Are you having fun ?

-Of course I am.»

(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.

« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »

He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.

« It's okay. »

His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?

« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »

Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.

« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»

She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.

« Happy Birthday Saul. »

His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.

« Thank you so much dear. »

It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.

Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »

The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.

« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»

She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :

« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»

That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.

They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.

« Wanna dance ? »

He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.

« I wish but... I don't know.

-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »

With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga, We’re Going Down

Part 1

masterlist

Because, my darlings, I have no impulse control and Yoongi demanded to be written. I’m going to see if I can balance between SW and this, alternate releasing chapters for each story, but we’ll see. The title is a working title. don’t know if I’ll stick with it. I’m open to suggestions. Enjoy, my lovlies! It was a blast to write!-- Chaotic puff

here’s a link to the song the MC plays in this chapter!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qrKjywjo7Q 

Yoongi didn’t go to events like this. He was a professional, but even professionals got blocks sometimes, and he was having a block. He couldn’t seem to produce anything new. He had spent hours in his studio trying to come up with something, but the muse had abandoned him. He needed to get out of his head, to get out of the studio for a while.

That was how he ended up sitting through a university showcase watching young, aspiring musicians present their skills. It was a far more classical feel than he used in his music. He was a rap god. He didn’t really use Debussy and Mozart in his work. But there was something amusing about watching all the fresh faced youths taking their showcase so seriously. Most of them would never be serious musicians. They would never play for a national symphony, but the way they all looked it was as if they were playing for some great orchestra or symphony instead of a small college showcase was amusing. It was all so serious, all so insignificant.

He was bored with it. Bored with the overly perfect renditions of the same songs that people had been playing for decades. Where was the feeling? Where was the passion? They were all just clinically passing through the motions for a grade. None of them would make serious musicians, not playing the way they did.

He was about to leave when the first strains of the cello caught his attention. It was the first real emotion he had heard from any of them. His eyes snapped to the stage to see a pair of girls. One was seated at the piano while the other was sat on a solitary chair with a cello before her. Both of them were as perfectly put together as every other student that had gone before them had been, black dresses and not a hair out of place.

He ignored the pianist in the favor of the cellist. Her eyes were closed as she played the rest of her face serene. She was completely at peace even though the song she played showed a deep sorrow. The song was just as recognizable as every other piece that had been played that night. The only difference was the musician.

She was lovely, pale and fragile under the stage lights, but there was also something almost unbearably sad about her, and it showed in her playing. The piece itself was already melancholy, but the way she played it was nearly heartbreaking. Her hair was pulled back in a neat updo that left her face clear for his perusal. Even with her eyes closed her face was filled with emotion. The simple string of pearls around her neck highlighted its curve, its swan like quality. Everything about her was simple, classic, graceful as she played.

He looked through the program he had been given when he’d first arrived searching for the song, searching for a name, her name. There is it was. The Swan composed by Camille Saint-Saens played by Kang Y/N and accompanied by Guem Nina. Kang Y/N. The name rang through his head carried by the melody she played. Beautiful. Beautiful and sad just like the song she played, just like her.

The song passed by too quickly for his liking. Before he knew it she was pulling her bow across the strings for the final time. Both musicians bowed to the audience before disappearing backstage and out of his sight. The spell was broken, but Yoongi still wanted to know more. Who was she? Why was she so sad? Why had she chosen that song? Yoongi wanted to know it all. The thought of her sent inspiration running through him. The fire was lit again telling him to create, to compose, for her.

He wanted to know what she would think of his music. Did she listen to rap? More specifically, did she listen to him? Or did she prefer classical music like the kind she had just played? Did she play any other instruments? Did she sing? How would the cello sound intertwined with his own style of music? He wanted to know the answer to all of these questions and so many more, but first he had to find her. Kang Y/N. His new muse.

So he sent out a bodyguard to find out everything about her that he could. Perhaps he should have felt guilty sending out a man to practically stalk the girl and bring him information on her, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about the invasion of her privacy. She consumed him, filling his thoughts. He wanted her near him. He wanted to hear her play, wanted to wipe the sadness from her features, and he was determined to do just that. She was meant to be his, and he wouldn’t rest until she was.  

Y/N was unaware of the thoughts coursing through his head as she was backstage tucked into a broom closet peeling herself out of her dress and the uncomfortable heels in favor of a pair of ripped jeans and a comfy sweater. She let her hair down from its tight confines and secured it in a loose pony tail. She loved playing, but stepping out on stage was always nerve wracking for her. The dresses and the perfectly put together faces never seemed like her. She wasn’t fancy or elegant. She was just… her. She didn’t even own the cello she had just played. She could never afford such a beautiful instrument. It belonged to the school.

She had had the cello on loan so long as she participated in the university orchestra, but that deal could no longer be upheld on her end. Family and financial obligations would no longer allow it. They were barely making ends meet as it was. She didn’t have the time to spend at rehearsals and practices when she needed to be focusing on her studies and working. Even her studies would have to take a back seat if their fortunes didn’t take a turn for the better soon.

It was just her, her grandmother, and her baby nephew, well no longer quite a baby. He was going to be three before she knew it. Her mother had taken off years ago. She flew in and out of their lives whenever it suited her usually when she wanted someone from them. Her father, bless him, couldn’t hold down a job to save his life. He was a dreamer. He sat at home most days contemplating the great questions of life like some sort of great philosopher. Most times he was drunk when he did this. She thanked god that he wasn’t violent drunk. His head was in the clouds more than else when he was drunk. Her sister, well no one really knew where Ha Jin was. She had taken off after the baby was born. She’d left Eun Jae with her and their grandmother, and she’d disappeared into the wind just like their mother had.

Part of her wanted to blame her little sister, to scream to the high heavens that it wasn’t fair that she was too young to be responsible for a child, but so was Ha Jin. She had been a child when she’d gotten pregnant, just seventeen when the baby was born. She was far too young to be a mother. Y/N couldn’t blame her for not being ready to raise a child, but she could blame her for abandoning Eun Jae.

Eun Jae didn’t know his mother. As far as he was concerned Y/N was his mother. She and Halmeoni were his whole world, his whole family. Her father couldn’t be counted as any sort of parental figure. He couldn’t be counted as one for his own daughters much less for his grandson. She’d heard her grandmother curse on more than one occasion that the gods had given her such a useless son.  Y/N had cursed on more than one occasion that the gods had given her such a useless father. But they had to work with what they were given, and this was the hand that fate had played them.

She had been eight when she’d figured out that both of her parents were useless. She’d been sixteen when she’d gotten her first part time job to help support the family. She’d been nineteen when she’d had to become a mother for her nephew. It was a shitty life, but it was hers.

Despite all the chaos Eun Jae had brought into the world, she wouldn’t trade him for anything. She loved that little boy more than life. He was her little angel, her light, the reason she was willing to sacrifice anything, to sacrifice everything. She may not have birthed him, but he was her son. He was the reason that she was sitting in a chicken place late in the evening a few days after the showcase with Nina. The pair of them were huddled over a phone making a profile on an app called sugarbebe.

“Are you sure about this?” Nina asked as they finalized her profile. “Maybe you could get another job.”

“I’m already working two jobs, along with school and practice, and Eun Jae. I can’t take on anything else.” She shook her head tiredly, glaring down at her phone in distaste. “We need the money.”

“What are you going to tell Halmeoni?” Nina questioned brows furrowed worriedly.

“I’m not going to tell Halmeoni anything. She thinks I’m looking for another job to take the place of orchestra.”

“And she’s okay with that?”

“No.” She laughed recalling the look on her grandmother’s face when she had told her that she was quitting orchestra. “She’s pissed at me. Says I’m wasting my God given talent, and that I’ll end up like my mom and my father and my sister if I’m not careful.”

“Harsh.” The other girl cringed knowing full well just how scary Y/N’s grandmother could be. “I still can’t believe it was your last concert.”

“It was only a showcase. Forget orchestra. Halmeoni said all that, and I haven’t even mentioned the possibility of giving up school to help with the bills.”

Nina’s eyes widened almost comically. “She’s going to kill you.”

“Yeah. I know.” She shuddered thinking of what her grandmother would do to her if she did quit school to help. It would not be a pretty picture. “I think she’d beat me black and blue with her favorite soup ladle.”

“Then let’s hope she doesn’t find out, and let’s hope you find yourself a rich sugar daddy.” Nina raised her glass in a mock toast, and Y/N raised hers as well.

“Here’s hoping.”

They pressed the button submitting her profile on the app. It was too late to back out now. If she was lucky whoever chose her wouldn’t be too old or perverted. With any luck he wouldn’t be ugly either, but that was asking a lot and she didn’t hold that much hope.  She’d be lucky if the guy wasn’t too much of a creep.

They both stared down at the phone in shock as it chimed, the banner announcing that she had a match on sugarbebe. Neither of them had expected anything quite that soon.

“Well, open it! What does it say? Who did you match with?” Nina asked excitedly eyes taking up almost the whole of her face with how wide they were.

She tapped on her phone opening the profile. MYG. No picture. Age twenty-seven. A producer. There wasn’t much information, but there was a message from the man asking to meet in person.

Nina looked over her shoulder frowning as she examined the profile as well. “He doesn’t have much information does he?”

“He wants to meet.”

“When?”

“Friday.” She gulped suddenly filled with nerves. It was all becoming so real. “He’s wants to meet on Friday at D-2.”

They both knew D-2. Every young person in the city knew it. It was the hottest club in Seoul at the moment, made even hotter by the fact it was owned by the king of rap himself, Agust D. To get into D-2 you either had to be rich, famous, or willing to wait in atrociously long lines and tipping the bouncer an outrageous amount of money wouldn’t hurt your chances either.

“D-2?” Nina gasped practically ripping the phone out of her hand to read the message herself. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what it says.”

“Do you have anything to wear?”

It was a good question. She really didn’t have anything that could be considered worthy of a place like D-2. Nothing she owned was really sexy. It was mostly comfy sweaters, jeans, and cute skirts. Things she could wear to school and work and were comfortable enough to chase a toddler around in. None of those would be appropriate for the club. Neither would any of the dresses she used for concerts. And the look on her face clearly conveyed that to Nina.

“You can borrow something of mine.” She assured gently patting her friend’s arm. “Maybe he won’t be so bad?”

“Maybe.” She agreed nervously.

“You can borrow that purple dress of mine. I can lend you some earrings too.” Nina offered sending her a reassuring smile. “At least you know if he’s meeting you at D-2 he’s gotta be rich.”

Y/N smiled back nervously. “I’m just hoping he’s not too much of a creep. Eun Jae is supposed to be with me at the apartment on Friday. Do you think you could babysit? If I ask Halmeoni to keep him at the restaurant she’ll ask questions.”

She had a small apartment close to campus that she stayed at normally. Eun Jae would bounce between the apartment and the family home with Halmeoni. It was good for him to be out of the house and away from her father sometimes, and it allowed her to keep Eun Jae close. She saw him often enough as she worked at Halmeoni’s restaurant, but on the weekends he would stay with her at the apartment. She’d take him back to Halmeoni’s on Sunday evening, and they’d both stay the night. Halmeoni would watch him during the week while she had classes, practice, and work, and Halmeoni lived closer to the preschool they were sending him to. She hated being away from him so much, but it was the best they could do for the moment.

“Of course I’ll watch Jae-ah.” Nina smiled. “You know I love the little guy. I’m his favorite auntie.”

“You’re his only auntie.”

“Technically, you’re his aunt.”

“Well unless Ha Jin suddenly shows up with a maternal instinct, I’m all he’s got in the mom department.”

“Poor kid.” Nina cringed teasingly.

“Hey.”  Y/N shoved her shoulder playfully. “I’m a great mom.”

“You’re okay at it.” The other girl dodged another hit. “I mean, he does have a sugar baby for a mom.”

“First of all, rude. Second, it’s only until we get our heads above water again, and then never again. This will all be a bad memory.”

Nina squeezed her arm sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll actually have a good time.”

“I really don’t think so, but how bad could it be?” It wasn’t going to be forever, and she could put up with anything to help her family, for Eun Jae.  

part 2

[baepsaetan]

Novocaine Enough | Yoonseok | Part 1

Amazing banner credit to @joonscore​​

Part 2 -> Part 3

Pairing: Yoongi x Hoseok

Wordcount: 6.1k

Genre: Exes to lovers, angst, smut

Rating: 18+

Summary: Four years later, and Yoongi is still an itch under his skin. Hoseok is trying to move on, from his past life and his past love, but there are some voids that can’t be filled. Some needs that can’t be met. And when Hoseok enters a club and hears the music of the man he left so long ago, he realizes that some addictions can’t be healed by anything as simple as time.

Warnings: Swearing; implied, mentioned and past drug use/abuse (cocaine, ecstasy, weed, alcohol); past overdosing; mutually unhealthy relationship dynamic; explicit (kinda angry) sex, including biting, oral, gagging, rimming, edging, marking, barebacking, thigh riding.

Ao3 Link: here

A/N: This took me a disgustingly long time to complete, but I’ve limped to the finish line! I wouldn’t have got there without @ditttiii​​, who helped me talk through an early version of the fic. Also major thanks to my beta @birbdae​​ for cleaning up this long piece! 

Is there anything he loves more than stepping into a club for the first time? The easy answer is yes, but in the moment – in the present – right now – Hoseok can’t give the easy answer. Shoving through the door is like plunging into water, waves of heavy bass surging against him as he submerges into the half-remembered music and suddenly warm air. The change in temperature is a welcome relief after the cold outside and only serves to reinforce the sensation of entering a thicker atmosphere. Breathing in against the sudden pressure, Hoseok does a grateful little skip as he pulls off his beanie and gloves.

Next to him, Taehyung laughs, the deep sound competing with the heavy music beating at Hoseok’s eardrums. “Not even on the dance floor and you’re already starting?”

Tossing his head to get his dark hair out of his face, Hoseok grins. “That suggests I ever stopped.” He hadn’t. Not really. Once you start to dance – to inhale the music and turn it into pure, unadulterated movement – you don’t really take a break. You just… slow down, sometimes.

His companion grins, a boxy affair with no ridicule in it. And why should there be? Taehyung is a dancer, too, and a helluva good one, if Jimin and Jungkook are to be believed. (They usually aren’t, but in the case of a possible new crewmember, Hoseok is willing to lend a little belief.) He’s known Tae for a year now, since Taehyung became friends with Jungkook in one of their classes and started hanging out with the crew, but it wasn’t until a week or so ago that Kookie persuaded him to show off his stuff. Apparently, in the past, there’d been some kind of accident that stopped Taehyung from dancing, yet according to Jimin and Jungkook, that hadn’t shown at all when he finally broke out in front of them.

Hoseok will see the truth for himself soon enough, anyways; it’s not like they came to the recently opened club to just stand around. His eyes flick eagerly at the thought, scoping the place out.

It’s pretty packed, and given how huge a club it is, that’s saying something. This is one of those open area concepts, all sprawling space with two bars pushed off to the corners, and a much smaller upper area, almost an oversized balcony. On the far side of the club there’s a DJ booth that’s swarming with people in front of it, so much so that he can’t see through the crowd to whoever is getting them so pumped. And there are more people streaming in by the second; he and Taehyung have had to shuffle to the side several times since they stepped inside, and by now they’re almost plastered against the wall. That would have been disappointing, except that according to Jin, on Saturdays the floor gets cleared at around 11 and the serious dancers get to have a go at it for a while.

In the meantime… Spotting a gap in the crush of bodies, Hoseok takes his chance and darts almost seamlessly through, throwing over his shoulder as he does so, “You want something to drink?”

His companion follows, albeit more slowly. Not that Hoseok can blame him; Taehyung is broader than he is, making knocked shoulders and collisions almost an inevitability. When Hoseok makes it to the nearest bar, he’s left the other behind.

It gives him plenty of time to hover around the edges, admiring the form of the bartender, who puts Taehyung’s shoulders to shame. The man in question isn’t exactly the picture of grace – not like those in Hoseok’s crew – but his energy is so loud, so vibrant, that it makes up for nearly dropped glasses and a few hesitations as he mixes the drinks for various customers. The breathtaking smile helps; the way he goes from 1 to 100 the second anyone tries to complain about the wait time probably helps, too.

Red-faced and outraged, he’s chewing out some poor guy for that exact offense when Hoseok finally finds room to sidle up to the front of the bar. “And if you think I’m making you another Manhattan after that comment, you can stick it straight up – oh. Hey, Hobi!”

The offender slinks away as Hoseok shakes his head in mock seriousness. “Is Namjoon paying you to bartend or to insult customers?” he shouts over the deep resonance that’s currently more a feeling shuddering across the floor than a sound.

Jin’s indignation doesn’t fade so much as evaporate entirely. Blinking with easy complacency, a small smile playing across his face, he turns and begins prepping the order a girl apologetically yells at him. “Just to bartend. The insults I give for free.”

“Wow, a star employee.” Fake seriousness dissolving into something more real, he asks, “Will Namjoon be around tonight? I wanted to ask him about the competition the club is hosting.”

It takes a few moments to reply, Jin’s hands and concentration caught in the mixing profession before he pulls himself away. “Not until a lot later, if at all,” the bartender replies eventually. “He’s looking after Remi tonight, so if he comes it’ll be after she goes to sleep. And can you imagine Joon leaving her alone?”

“No,” Hobi admits. Namjoon dotes on his daughter so much (the few times a month that he gets her) that it would be a miracle if he showed up tonight. Which is a little inconvenient for Hoseok, but the vague annoyance is buried under the reminder that being a good dad comes before being a good club owner.

He stands in fidgeting silence – silence surrounded by sound and people – for a few moments, playing with the studded collar of his black jacket, watching Jin work, and trying to enjoy the music. Taehyung must have been caught by someone, which is fine and not unsurprising given that it’s Tae. However, the absence of his companion, and with Jin mostly absorbed in his drinks, has mild anxiety trickling under Hoseok’s heels and through his fingertips. He rocks on the former and drums the latter against the sleek black leather of his pants in an attempt to drive the restlessness out. It doesn’t work particularly well, but automatically he finds himself adjusting his movements to the rhythm of the bass, and the focus required does help.

Each song is mixed so well, there’s no weird or awkward moment for his concentration to snag on, and the transitions are seamless, so smooth that the DJ must have curated this tracklist with individual attention to each end and beginning. Not unheard of, exactly, but certainly a pleasure when compared to many of the jarring amateur attempts Hoseok has been subjected to before. Last they’d talked, Namjoon had mentioned he was looking to hire another DJ for his new club, and if this is the man… well, Hoseok just hopes he’ll be the same guy who’s doing their dance competition, too. Another question – or request – to throw Joon’s way the next time they meet.

He’s just about to resign himself to submerging back into the crowd in search of Taehyung when the boy in question pops up, all teeth and warm apology. “Sorry, hyung! I saw a friend I haven’t talked to in a while, and you were so far ahead already I didn’t think I could call you back, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to talk for a bit so I paused and then I’d lost you and –”

“Don’t sweat it.” It’s always been a marvel to Hoseok that such a rambling and excited apology could sound sincere, but Taehyung makes it work one hundred percent. “Let me grab you something. What do you drink?”

“Oh, well, I like whiskey sours, but you don’t have to –”

“Whiskey it is.” As he turns away, Taehyung’s surprised expression isn’t lost on Hoseok. Yeah, he isn’t often this direct, but the young man’s never seen him at dance practice and besides, the music is scraping under his skin, rubbing his bones the wrong way in the best way possible. It’s forcing him into a different form.

Suiting word to deed, he returns to the bar, puts in Tae’s request along with his own. Like a cheerful despot towering behind his counter walls, Jin takes the order before other people’s, waving off the muted outrage of his customers with shameless ease. It’s good to see his relatively new job hasn’t reformed him too much; it’s not that Jin’s ever actively rude or cruel. but he just has one pace, and that pace is his own.

For all that Hoseok admires that quality in his friend, it still has him flushing and ducking his head apologetically at the accusing looks. He’s quick to grab the drinks, but when he tries to shove money at Jin, the other man waves him off. “My treat,” the bartender calls. “When you all start dancing, everyone’s going to get thirsty and I’m going to be getting tons of tips!” His laughter quickly spikes too high to be heard in this crowd, but he’s still laughing as Hoseok, even more flushed, winds through the press of bodies with the glasses held high.

When he reaches Taehyung, his companion just sips his drink, but Hoseok downs his. The burn down his throat is no more intense than the burn he feels building in his muscles. A different kind of heat.

He finds himself shifting, his body beginning to ache with impatience. Tae is an entertaining person, but Hoseok's restlessness is blazing through his concentration, leaving cinders in its wake, and words of any kind – no matter how entertaining – are a poor thing in comparison. While he's always eager to move when at the club, this is a new level of agitation, a heightened awareness of the sounds and heavy ambience, and at first, he doesn't know what has him so on edge.

They talk some more, just waiting, really, for Jimin and Jungkook to arrive. Taehyung doesn't have a car and Hoseok had agreed to drive him, and Jimin was going to drive Jungkook after a late class. They should be here within half an hour or so, though in the meantime Tae, ever obliging, grabs he and Hoseok two more rounds of drinks. It's while he's grabbing the third round that the impatience becomes less of a hum and more of a howl, and Hoseok grasps with a sudden jolt that it's because of the song that's currently playing.

Whoever is mixing this music is really doing an amazing job; the song modifications, amplifications and beat alignments almost make the atmosphere come alive, and all it needs is an avatar to show off just how much energy it really has. He could be that. He should be that. It’s almost like he and the DJ are in a private conversation, and they’re egging him on, jamming little pinpricks into his joints, demanding he dance.

His mouth is dry – too dry – but that's nothing new when he's in the club, and Hoseok hardly notices it. The next song has just come on, as seamlessly as the last, and with a sharp pang of understanding, Hoseok realizes why he feels so tense, even more so than usual.

This DJ – whoever they are – has similar tastes as Yoongi. The powerful flow of thudding music is creating something in Hoseok, a kind of nostalgic frenzy, and it makes him swallow hard, swallow again with the feeling of shards of glass and regret slipping down his throat. He hasn't heard a DJ who favours reverb and synth choruses so much since the last time he'd guested at one of Yoongi's gigs. How long ago was that? Four years? He can hardly remember.

To remember is absolutely not why Hoseok is here.

"Hyung?" Taehyung says something to him, has said it more than once, to judge by his tone. Hoseok snaps his eyes to the other man's face, his breath abruptly staggered. "Hyung, are you okay?"

"Yeah," and to Hoseok’s ears his voice sounds tinny, strained. "Yeah, I'm fine. Jimin and Jungkook should be here soon, right? I should go grab some alcohol for them."

"Do you wanna take your shot?"

"I will after. Be back in a sec."

"Sure...?" Taehyung's eyes are sharp and probing, uncomfortably and unexpectedly keen, and Hoseok can't remember if he knows about Yoongi. He definitely wouldn't know Yoongi – none of his friends do – because they didn't know Hoseok back then. So – there's no point in explaining. No point in bringing it up. Hoseok swallows again, and walks away, needing to escape. Although he can't escape the music.

He also can't help how his gaze skitters to the DJ booth, there and back again, short looks that can't penetrate the barrier of people crowded around it. It can't be him. It can't. The last time he saw Yoongi...

You didn't come here to remember, he reminds himself savagely.

Jin has seemingly even more customers pestering him than before, and just hands off the drinks without a fuss. This time, hypersensitive and too raw to accept charity, Hoseok makes him take the cash, pressing it to the counter when the bartender tries to decline. Head tilting, thick eyebrows furrowing, for the first time this night Jin looks something other than melodramatic, and Hoseok doesn't want that. He came here to dance, for Christ's sake, not have someone notice a mini-meltdown!

Hefting on a smile that feels like it weighs one thousand pounds, he brushes off his friend's concern and darts away, carrying a tray of glasses. He's hardly taken a few steps before he downs his drink. Too much, too fast, especially for him, but he needs the soft buffer of alcohol right now. Hoseok won't look at the DJ stand. It's not him. There's no way it could be Yoongi. And even if it were...

It's not.

And even if it were, what would he do? Go down on his knees and ask for forgiveness? Punch him in his bleakly certain face? Or–

It's not him.

The music resonates around him – through him – in shuddering waves, jarring his weak attempts to tamp it down, and Hoseok is starting to feel feverish with the familiarity of the flashbacks flickering through his head. He's definitely had too much to drink. He just – he needs to do something. He needs to move.

It is with a huge wash of relief that he gets back to Taehyung and sees Jimin and Jungkook have arrived. Jimin is dressed in faded denim jeans and a glittering blue and yellow jacket, though the jacket will probably be off by the end of the night if other nights are anything to go by. Jungkook is a little more subdued, just wearing a simple white t-shirt and black jeans, but his outfit makes the tattoo sleeve on his left arm pop. Both of them are standouts in the crowded space. Add in Taehyung with his black and white patterned shirt and matching headband, and Hoseok really can’t blame the number of eyes he notices settled on the trio.

Taehyung is oblivious to it. “You’re back!” he exclaims, leaping forward to help Hoseok with the drinks.

Jimin’s sultry expression – he calls it his performance face – is something he wears as easily as his brilliant jacket, and he shrugs it off with just as much aplomb when his gaze lands on Hoseok’s tight look. Eyes flickering about as if he could spot the problem, his smile becoming warmer but tinged with concern, the small man accepts the glass from Tae and then asks, “What’s up?” 

A grin can be a work of art, and Hobi turns this into a masterpiece. All ease and bright lines, no clouds in this painting. He’s not quite as good at lying outright, but the noise probably masks his beat of hesitation. “Nothing! I’m just excited to get started.”

“Makes two of us,” Jungkook comments, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he nabs a shot from Taehyung.

“Three!” Taehyung chimes in. They all fall silent, turning expectantly to Jimin.

He’s still watching Hoseok, his lips lightly pursued. Hobi can’t help his nervous titter at the close examination, turns it into a more raucous laugh. “You’re not excited, ChimChim? Come on, we’ve been talking about this for weeks!”

At last, Jimin breaks eye contact, if only to shove back the unruly silver bangs tumbling across his forehead. “I’m excited,” he says, apparently deciding to drop whatever he’d seen on Hobi’s face. “Just hope there aren’t too many rookie dancers around. We don’t wanna make them look too bad when we start.” The look he wears is nothing short of angelic, but Hoseok knows well enough the competitive edge that lurks under that innocent façade. Jimin likes to win.

Jungkook huffs a fervent agreement. He likes to win, too. He’s good at it. Actually, they all do, and they all are. There’s a reason Hobi’s put this particular team together.

Right. Something to focus on, instead of the shadow of memory that the music keeps trying to make more substantial. With a playful nod, Hobi notes with false regret, “Well, if Tae is as good as you say, they might be out of luck.”

“I’ll do my best!” the man in question promises earnestly, and Hoseok can’t be sure, but he thinks he sees a flash of… something… in Taehyung’s eyes. Maybe not the same sharp need to win that Jungkook wears blatantly and Jimin cloaks yet never lets go of, but something. Passion, at the very least.

Hell, it works for Hoseok. Who cares what drives his people, as long as it's driving them to work hard?

As long as it isn’t driving them straight off a cliff.

He knows exactly where that thought comes from, and unbidden he turns to the DJ booth. It’s still too crowded to tell who’s working there. Probably a good thing. At this point Hoseok doesn’t know what will hurt him more; if the DJ isn’t Yoongi, or if it is.

The rest of them are talking and drinking, and he listens with half an ear, half a brain, half a being. The other half is straining to tell if the music really is as familiar as he thinks it is. If he can match that melody with that moment, or that bass with that breath, or that reverb with that regret. It’s stupid, pointless, harmful, but he can’t make himself stop. How funny, that he could have sworn he was over this. Had drummed it out of his muscles and his head both. God, if only he could dance.

Like an answer from the heavens – or maybe elsewhere – the music suddenly cuts off. A voice comes on the mic, clear, crisp, and familiar, but not who Hoseok was half expecting. It’s Jin. “Hey ladies and gentlemen and everyone else. As ya’ll know, it’s time for the Saturday dance off! If you fancy yourself a dancer, stay where you are, otherwise get your ass out of the floor area marked by the thick black lines. If you didn’t know there was a dance off today and you don’t like it, there’s a big ass door under the exit sign. I think we’re over capacity anyways.” With a loud blare of feedback, he cuts off.

Slowly at first, then more quickly, people start wandering out of the space Jin had indicated, crowding against the walls, or heading to the smaller area upstairs. He thinks he sees a few people leave after the announcement, but that might have just been a coincidence. By the time things have cleared, there are some twenty people on the dance floor, not including his crew.

This is exactly what he needs to clear his mind. Hoseok observes those left, his head tilted, an easy smile unconsciously gracing his lips. He can tell at a glance a few people are just idiots who want to flail around and call it dancing. There’s nothing wrong with that, exactly, but experience has taught him that people like that usually get pretty embarrassed when they suddenly find themselves next to professionals. Unless they’re really drunk, in which case they’ll just be a slight distraction. Nothing his guys can’t handle.

As for the rest… Hoseok actually recognizes two women, a couple he’s met at a few competitions, both official and underground. They’re good. Really good. His smile grows, and amid the tingling warmth of all the alcohol he’s had, there’s a fiercer burn, a kind of exultant excitement. He’s too drunk, probably, but this is crystal clarity, a heatwave burning everything unimportant and leaving just his focus and his friends.

And the music. The DJ regains control of the mic system, and he’s starting off with something heavy, almost ominous. The bass is shaking the floor, shaking Hoseok’s foundation, and he finds himself shaking in response, with little tremors of tension. Whoever’s running the music, they know how to start a show, and Hoseok is aching to finish it.

This isn’t an actual competition, of course. No judges, or set songs, or styles. It’s freestyle, and if there’s any kind of critic, it’s the crowd, already buzzing with anticipation and adding to the air of expectation. Hoseok breathes in and it feels like he’s inhaling something far more than air.

Because this isn’t run by anyone official, there are no rules about who can start, or how, or when. While Hobi and the rest of the serious dancers size each other up and feel out the rhythm, a trio of wasted kids stumble into the center of the floor. Their awkward floundering is laughable, and so Hoseok does laugh, a joyful sound echoed by Jungkook and Taehyung and a good deal of the crowd and competitors. It’s not unkind, at least not on Hobi’s part; he’s just too excited to reach the level that’s so far above these people to keep back the explosion of mirth. 

Jimin’s lip is lightly curled when Hoseok glances at him, but though he isn’t laughing, he’s squirming in place, clearly impatient to start.  

Why keep him waiting?  

“You ready?” he asks his crew, a redundant courtesy. They are. “I think we go low for this one? I’ll take the center? Let’s go… Jimin, then Jungkook, then Taehyung? And keep heavy on the left?” Phrased as questions, but they aren’t, just more courtesy, letting Taehyung know how he wants to approach this. They’ve already discussed general four-person set-ups, with Tae and without. The other two know what Hoseok wants. Everyone nods, short, sharp.

He steps forward. Not far. Not really enough to crowd the hammered trio’s space. Just enough to announce their presence and give them room to work. His friends follow, and Hoseok can almost feel them at his back. The wide grin has faded, replaced with an unintentional intensity that, unbeknownst to him, makes it hard for people to look away. Most of the laughter in the crowd dies, replaced by wire-tight quiet.

In that quiet, he begins. Slowly to start. Why hurry perfection? The music pours into his marrow and he turns it into movement, gives it form and features for the simple price of sweat. Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung join in several beats later, not quite matching his moves or each other, but close. Distorted shadows. They flicker in time with the rhythm, a collection of power moves loosely connected by breaking. Hoseok breathes, draws in the crowd’s awe and admiration, and turns it into fuel as he burns through everything but the music. 

Worries, memories, regrets, nothing can survive the blaze of his concentration, and Hoseok feeds them to the flames with ruthless abandon, glad to feel them smoulder to ashes.

 His moves become sharper, harsher. Everything gets so much more defined when he dances. The audience, his friends, his body, they all assume a stark clarity, almost painfully distinct. He doesn’t worry – he just moves. The music pulses all around him, urging him on, a nameless connection, and as the fluid lucidity gets even sharper, he prepares to speed up.

Soon – in fact, at what feels like exactly the right moment – the song flows into something else. Faster and more electronic. His body reads it almost before his mind does and Hoseok feels himself changing his motions to fit. More popping now. It feels right to hit the floor, so Hoseok does, in a totally controlled spin on his back that nonetheless looks wildly, perfectly out of control. He stops with a shoulder roll that allows him to transition to his feet, making room for Jimin to step forward and claim center as the crowd cheers.

Jimin is… fucking beautiful. The thought is a vague spark without solid form in the midst of Hoseok’s movement, but it’s true all the same. He dances differently than Hoseok or Jungkook, more gracefully, like any second he could swap his bones for the wind and begin to fly.

Not immune to the effect, but far too disciplined to fall for it (much), Hoseok keeps up his pace next to Jimin, letting himself relax even further into the music. The drunk trio are long gone, shuffled off in embarrassment, but some of the others are inching closer. They’re being polite – letting his crew get in a full rotation – but that’ll end soon enough. He relishes their interest. Not because he has something to prove, or particularly cares what they’re thinking, but because once they start to respond, it’ll be another bar to aim for, another goal, one more reason to keep dancing. And God, does he want to keep dancing.

Jungkook is next, powerful, demanding. He hits each move like it’s personally offended him, smashes into the poses as if he wants to break through reality and reach some other plane. When his feet hit a series of rapid beats in quick succession, it’s enough to get the crowd, already primed, to start whistling and whooping.

Hoseok finds himself doubting his choice to put Taehyung last. From what he’s seen from the corner of his eye as they’ve gone, Tae has kept up fine, his movements slick and confident. Maybe just a hair slower than the trio, but that could easily be chalked up to a lack of familiarity, given how much the other three have practiced together and how long Taehyung has been on a break. Still, asking him to follow up what Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok himself have already shown… He’d thought it would give him time to settle any nerves and see how they all approached being center, and Jimin and Jungkook had sung his praises to the high heavens, but now it seems like it might have been cruel.

Taehyung moves into the middle, and for some reason there’s a sudden swell of appreciative screams. Not from anything Hoseok can see from behind and to the side – maybe Tae had made a particularly great expression? The screams don’t really… stop… after that. From what Hoseok can observe, he gets it.

Turns out it wasn’t cruel to put Tae last. Like, at all.

The man is a consummate performer. Several times, when Taehyung’s supple steps put his back to the front and Hobi can see his face, he’s almost literally struck by how good his facials are. Passion is the name of this game and Tae plays it to perfection, his expressions conveying such a range of intensity that it’s a surprise he hasn’t started a fire with his glower alone

Hell, Tae winks at him at one point and Hoseok finds himself grinning at the smug audacity, breaking his own fierce look. Whoops.   

He whips it back on, but they’re almost done, anyways. Another group has edged closer, brash with impatience, and a few seconds later start their own dance. Of course, Hoseok’s crew doesn’t give way immediately – like you could snatch the crown that easily – and for a little bit they’re actually dancing against the other crew. It’s a brawl of sorts, Hoseok’s favourite kind of fighting. It doesn’t last long enough (it never does), but it’s exhilarating while it does. The fact that their opponents are pretty good is just gasoline added to the flames.

However, if a good dancer knows how to step while on the stage, a great one knows when to step off the stage, and as the most recent song winds down, Hoseok stops himself. Unwillingly, painfully, but he does. He gives a short bow to the opposing group, granting them the floor amid a cascade of cheering. 

When he and his crew walk away, the shouting just gets louder, deafening in its wild appreciation. Exhilaration swells under his ribs, threatening to crack them with its overwhelming force. For just a moment, Hoseok hears the cheers, feels the way his body is still crackling with energy, remembers how good it had felt to move, and he’s complete. For just a second.

And then the moment is gone.

The rest of his friends are grinning under the praise of the clubgoers, a little playful swagger in their steps as they jostle each other, giving compliments and insults on the individual executions each had pulled. Jimin snags his jacket from a girl who had picked it up from the floor, waves with giddy appreciation at her. They’re quick to find a good spot to watch the other dancers, the crowd happy to give way after what they’d shown. A couple of people offer to get them drinks and Jimin accepts while Jungkook and Taehyung beam. They’re all practically glowing, flush with success. They’d done well; they deserve to be proud. He’s proud of them.

He can feel proud and still be hollow, right? The sudden empty fatigue hits him like a cement truck going 100. It’s almost always like this after he dances, and the more intense the performance, the harder he gets hit. Hoseok abruptly becomes aware of the sweat pouring off him, the waves of heat billowing across his skin, the strained, quiet pain of muscles stretched just a bit beyond their limits. He’s… tired isn’t right. He could do three or four more routines like that, all in a row, without getting truly, bodily exhausted.

Drained. Yeah. That’s it. Like he’d poured something vital into each move, spilled himself across the floor, until there was too little of him left.

Jimin and Jungkook know him well enough to give him a little space after a dance, but Taehyung isn’t in the loop yet. “Hobi-hyung!” Sweat has darkened the younger man’s light brown hair, and if it weren’t for his headband, it probably would have been dripping down his face. “Hyung, you were incredible! You have to teach me how to pop at your knee like that, I’ve only ever done my upper body!”

The disconnect is there, unbearably strong. It will fade in the next few minutes, leaving him just fatigued instead of full-on wrung out, but in the meantime Hoseok makes himself laugh. Taehyung deserves that much, even if it sounds strange to his ears. “Only if you teach me that expression you were wearing during the chorus while you were center. Think I saw a few people faint when you looked their way.” He laughs again, trying to make the sound more natural. Pretty much fails.

Taehyung seems grateful for the compliment, nonetheless. He bobs his head, flashing a boxy grin. “It’s not a fair trade. Making faces is easy; I think I’d have to be high to move like you were, if I ever could.”

His jaw abruptly tightens, tension arcing through his throat. So quick he wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t expecting it, Jungkook and Jimin exchange a glance. They know (almost) all of his history. Jimin reaches out, plucks at Taehyung’s shirt sleeve. “Come on,” he whines. “Didn’t you see me? Don’t you think I was cool, too?”

It’s a masterful attempt at distraction, though Taehyung seems inclined to dwell on Hoseok’s moves. “Well yeah, of course! But what hyung did was –”

Jimin interrupts him. “Anyways, I want to introduce you to one of our friends,” he says cheerfully. “Seokjin-hyung. He works as a bartender here.”

“Oh, but Hoseok-hyung already–”

“I’ll come too!” Jungkook chimes in, and together they drag the bewildered Taehyung into the crowd and away. A kindness, letting Hoseok have this moment of weakness. What had he done in another life to deserve these people in this one?    

What had he done? For just a second, a memory enters his head, of a few colourful blue and red tablets sitting in an outstretched hand. A voice, achingly ironic and raspy, asking, “You ready to get ecstatic?”

He couldn’t have said if it was the pill or the voice that he longed more violently for after the sodden rush of dance-inspired euphoria was gone. Given the way his eyes cut to the DJ booth, Hoseok supposes he has his answer.

He has his answer, but he doesn’t have what he wants. The press of people has dispersed with the dance-off, the clubbers are more interested in crowding the square than swarming the DJ, leaving his view clear for the first time tonight. There’s a girl working the booth. Not someone he recognizes.

Not Yoongi.

A shaky exhale splits his clenched teeth, and Hoseok closes his eyes. He hasn’t been listening to the music since they stopped dancing – not really – but it sounds different now. No longer as intimate, the connection between him and the rhythm is broken. Had he just imagined that bond before the dance-off, made up that gut-wrenching familiarity? Given that he hasn’t taken any drugs tonight, he seriously doubts that he has the creativity to imagine something so vivid.

Maybe the girl DJing learned in the same style as Yoongi. Maybe that’s what set him off.

He hasn’t had any drugs tonight, but he’s still coming down from a high. That’s how it always is, after dancing. He told his friends, his family, that he got clean, but it was a lie. Hoseok just replaced ecstasy, his drug of choice, with something else. Movement instead of MDMA. Not a bad trade. He couldn’t have made a career off of being a chronic user, after all. Couldn’t have found happiness, either. Probably.

His mouth is bone dry, and he’s lost sight of his friends. They’re probably busy harassing Jin. For a while Hoseok watches the other dancers, fingers tapping out a pattern on his thighs in time to the beats, grateful for the chance to pull himself out of his despondency with a bit of friendly critique. From what he can see, the group that went after them is the most skilled so far. 

The couple he’d recognized earlier haven’t gone yet, and they’ll shake up the ranking, but slowly Hoseok settles into the comfortable conclusion that his crew is the best one here. It doesn’t matter – there are no announced winners – but it’s promising for the actual competition coming up in a few weeks.

Things get better. He gets better. He always does. By the time the couple finishes their piece – with a flourish of partner flips that have him joining the raucous cheering – Hoseok is back to feeling energized by the sweat still slick on his skin. He’s back to being overjoyed by the music beating against his eardrums, back to savouring the crush of bodies and noise and life that scream nothing more than here you are, right now, isn’t it amazing!        

Even stepping in a thick puddle of someone’s spilled drink isn’t enough to dampen his spirits.

With a grin and a lighthearted curse, Hoseok heads to the bathroom, intent on wiping off his shoes. Sticky sneakers are a fact of life at clubs, but given that it’d been a mini lake of beer and he hates the sensation of his feet peeling across the floor, this seems to be a justified trip. Even better, the dance-off is finishing; he won’t be missing anything.

It’s as Hoseok is leaving the washroom, shoes squeaky clean, that someone grabs his arm from behind. Hard. He startles with a yelp that’s barely audible over the raucous noise of the club, his heart rate spiking. Moving jerkily with the admittedly excessive alarm pounding in his chest, Hobi turns to berate whichever of his friends thought it would be funny to sneak up on him.

Freezes. Stares. Doubts.

Hoarsely ironic, Yoongi observes, “Still as jumpy as a cat on hot bricks, huh?”

[rebel-pogue]

Stretch Marks

JJ Maybank X plussize!Reader

request: kinda...?

warnings: cussing, issues with body image, angst, fluff

summary: After a fight with your parents about your health, you plan to spend the rest of your day to yourself until a certain blue eyed blonde finds you on your deck.

a/n: from @maybanktho​ they made a wonderful list of imagine ideas and I had to jump onto this one... tho I do have a couple others from the list im working on as well! I hope you guys enjoy! This one was enjoyable bc it felt really personable but idk... let me know what you think and if you’d like any specific imagine!!

wc: 1.5k

There were plenty of things in the world that you never understood. One, why bras were so insanely expensive. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that they were conditioned into wearing one to be presentable to the public. They were uncomfortable, no matter how “high quality” they were, broke way too easily for anyone’s own well being, and even if you bought one to look cute for someone else, it’s not like it stayed on your body very long in those instances. Another thing you just didn’t get was why or how anybody could be interested in you or your body. Emphasis on the latter.

You’ve always been bigger than everyone else, in size and height. You never knew what it was like to be able to just pull something off the shelf at a store and it fit, nor to have something fit perfectly without it being too loose on your waist, or not fit over your hips and butt at all. Growing up you were constantly surrounded by smaller, prettier girls, magazines that glorified a specific body type, and TV shows and movies that were never inclusive to plus size women. Even if they had one character who was plus size, they were always the butt of the joke. You didn’t know what it was like to love the body you lived in growing up.

As you got older, it got easier. A lot of it was thanks to yourself just generally being tired of being told you didn’t fit “a look”, though more appearances of plus sized characters in TV shows, movies, and magazines helped as well. Instead of feeling that separation between the women who ran the world, you felt a connection finally. However, it didn’t take much for a single comment to plummet your confidence. Then you met the one boy you never realized you needed in your life, JJ Maybank.

“Hey gorgeous.” The smooth drawl gained all of your attention away from the music you were listening to as you relaxed on the deck from your house. Your eyes landed on the smooth-talking blonde who stood at the steps, leaning against one of the wooden posts that lined the short pier that you often escaped to when life was too much to handle.

You couldn’t help the natural smile that came to your lips as you lifted the sunglasses from your eyes to greet the insanely attractive male, “Well, hello to you too. I thought you had work today?” You questioned, watching his movements as he stepped closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

He rested into a seated position beside you, and his eyes travelled your body. You loved and hated when he did this. Your conflicted emotions could never fully convince you if he actually enjoyed what he saw or not, but today he couldn’t see much anyways, which you were thankful for.

“Got out early, Pogues were thinking about taking a ride out to swim...” he slowed his words his eyes finally matching back up with yours again, “Why are you wearing sweatpants? It’s hot as balls outside!”

Your hands instantly found their way to the hem of your shirt, toying with it nervously, “Haven’t had the best morning so far.” You commented casually, not wanting to continue much of the conversation. You hadn’t planned on doing anything with your day after the conversation you’d had with your shitty parents that morning.

JJ tilted his head slightly, reaching up and brushing some loose strands of hair that had whipped to the front of your face. You flinched slightly at his touch, not because you were scared of him but because the small gesture of affection was hard for you to accept sometimes. He frowned slightly, but didn’t bring attention to it.

“Was it your parents again?” He asked, averting his eyes from yours so he wasn’t putting too much pressure on you to answer. You could never fully explain how or why JJ always knew what to say or ask.

Sighing heavily, you pushed your body up, pulling your knees to your chest, instinctively covering your stomach with your arms, “They made their usual comments about how I needed to take better care of myself, how I shouldn’t be wearing such ‘revealing’ clothes, that I should use my money for gym memberships instead of, oh I don’t know, saving money for COLLEGE?!” Your voice grew in intensity and volume as the anger returned to your mind, tears stinging the edges of your eyes. “I mean, it’s like I can’t do anything in life if I look like this.” You gestured towards your body, regaining eye contact with JJ and regretted it immediately.

His bright cerulean eyes were too soft, too concerned, and too focused on everything you had just said. His normally striking and strong features relaxed into an empathic position causing you to involuntarily take a sharp inhale.

“Never-mind, JJ. Don’t worry about it, it’s not your problem.” You said quickly, trying to deescalate the situation and make it seem less important. You stretched your legs out in front of you, the bright sun disappearing into the black sweatpants that hung on your legs. Your mind began to spiral as the memories from that morning circled back and how you had just complained to JJ about something he could never understand.

Pushing yourself off of the old wooden deck, you stood fast, keeping your eyes away from his. Today had started off horrible, and it seemed it was just going to continue in that fashion no matter what you did. You couldn’t fix your body, you couldn’t fix your parents, you couldn’t fix you. As you began to step over JJ, his hand reached out for you, clasping onto your wrist where your hand still clung tightly to the hem of your shirt.

“I don’t get it, like, I really don’t…” You were waiting for the usual ‘I understand how you’re feeling but it’s not that serious’ comment to spill from his lips. You kept your eyes on the ground, not wanting to watch him crush your mentality anymore than it already was.

“JJ I don’t need your sympathy-“ You began, a small tear rolling down your cheek.

JJ stood quickly, grabbing your shoulders to bring your attention back to him, “It’s not sympathy (y/n)! I don’t get how people can look at you and not be blown away! How they can’t just look at every inch of you and fall completely head over heels for you, how they couldn’t fall in love by just seeing how beautiful you are!!” He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide and honest.

Your breath hitched in your throat as more tears fell from your eyes, this gorgeous, beautiful, fit boy just confessed to you right? Is that what just happened?? You didn’t know what or how to process what was coming from his mouth, but he continued, “The first time I saw you, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Your smile was just… nothing like I had ever seen before. Hell yeah I noticed your body, I noticed your hips, your chest…your ass! It’s because I saw one glance and I knew I needed you in my life… and I couldn’t have been more right, for once in my life.”

His hand landed on your waist, resting easily and comfortable above your hip. Your shirt lifted slightly and you could feel the heat from his hand on your side. “…are you sure? Are you sure you want this?” You asked quietly, still not able to tear your eyes away from his beautiful blue ones.

He scoffed loudly, his eyebrows knitting together almost angrily at what you had said, “I don’t want anyone or anything else.” You stated matter of factly and slammed his lips into yours.

It was rough at first, but the passion overtook the both of you and you lost yourself in him. Your hands found their way to his blonde locks, his hands reaching behind you, grabbing onto you and holding you tight. Your lips moved together in motion, his tongue easily making its way through your lips and dancing with yours. You didn’t know how long the two of you stood there in each others embrace, but when you finally broke you both had to catch your breaths. Resting his forehead against yours, he pressed one more quick kiss to you.

“Do you really think my ass looks good?” You asked, looking up into his eyes curiously.

The grin that landed on his face made you swoon, “Oh baby, I would throw away everything if I could just hold onto your ass.” You both chuckled softly, falling comfortably into silence.

A small while later you found yourselves making the short walk towards your house, your hands grasped in his own large ones. “So, you said we’re going swimming right?” You asked, glancing sideways towards him.

“Maybe later, no offense but after talking about you I’m so fucking horny right now and you gotta take responsibility.” He pulled you after him, rushing into your house and towards your room.

[welcometowriteblr]

WELCOME TO WRITEBLR’S THIRD SHINING STAR IS @sprigofbasil aka Nicole! All votes were done through the WTW Server.

WTW: How does it feel to be voted a favorite writeblr?

Nicole: I’m super flattered but also really surprised? I definitely wasn’t expecting to be voted as a favorite writeblr, and there’s a lot of other people I would have picked over myself. But hey, I can’t say that I don’t love attention, because I definitely do!

WTW: what do you think you’ve done so far that’s made the most impact on writeblr?

Nicole: I guess just being friendly (sometimes maybe a little too much) and trying my best to make high-quality content? I love making new friends and gushing over their amazing work, so I hope that I’ve been able to bring more enthusiasm and positivity to writeblr ^^

WTW: What’s your biggest piece of advice to other writeblrs? (Writing or Blog related)

Nicole: Honestly, just let yourself have fun. So many people on here try to make perfect edits and stay completely serious (which does work for some!), but I’ve found that it’s a lot easier to stay invested in a project if it’s fun! Let yourself write that self-indulgent au—hell, let yourself make an entire wip that’s just all self-indulgent! Cringe culture is dead and good riddance. Make that shitpost. Make that character meme that no one would actually understand. Go crazy, go stupid!

WTW: What’s been your favorite part of being a writeblr so far?

Nicole: Definitely the community, by far. I’ve been able to meet so many incredibly talented writers, and the fact that we can just chat and have a good time with writers from all over the globe is amazing to me. Without the friends I’ve made on writeblr, I definitely would not have pursued writing in any meaningful way.

WTW: What are your biggest goals for the next year in terms of being a writer?

Nicole: I’m hoping to finish the first draft of my main wip the temporal heart! Depending on how things go, I also want to plot out and start drafting a few of my side wips!

WTW: What are your top 3 blogs?

Nicole: Oh man that’s a hard question. Definitely Tris @atelierwriting, who was one of the blogs I looked up to when I was a baby writeblr back in 2018, though I was too shy to ever try and approach her. Rochelle @starshots is definitely another one—her wip the crimson year was actually the thing that got me to come back to writeblr after abandoning it for well over a year, and I look up to her for her god tier prose and characterization. Ever since joining wtw, I have to say I also look up to june @ikilledmyocs, both for her worldbuilding and the incredible community that she’s created with welcome to writeblr!

Nicole can be found on Wattpad (sporadically) at @/porcelaintea

Her current WIP is The Temporal Heart: A vaguely Arthurian steampunk fantasy set in an alternate Victorian era, where a healer suffering from a mysterious curse finds himself on an expedition to find a lost city within the Rift, a land rumored to hide the treasures of the gods — that is, if he can survive for long enough to find them. It features a potpourri of magical creatures, all set against a classic adventure into the unknown a la Indiana Jones or Atlantis.

[originofjaehyun]

Interlude: No More Drama | Part 6 | MAD DOG

Interlude: No More Drama Masterlist

Word count: 5,070

Warnings: Smut

Part 6 | MAD DOG

“Welcome to my nightmare.”

Prev • Next

“We’ll have two Gin & Tonic, please.”

The waiter memorized his order, instead of jolting it down on a paper. It would be impossible to be able to write in such conditions. It’s late and even though the bar is not packed with customers, they still try to maintain their tavern-like charm. The light was dimmed, only a few muted yellow-toned bulbs that light up, making the brick-clad outpost slightly visible. The candle on your table is definitely serving another purpose other than making the ambiance romantic – to make you able to see the face of your partner.

“Finally we’re able to catch up, huh?”

He scoffed, “You’re the busy one, you know I always, well, most of the time, free my schedule for you.”

You rolled your eyes before resting your face to your hands on the table, “Says our dear Head of Business Analyst, Mr. Kim Doyoung.”

He chuckled at your remark especially on the way you emphasize the word ‘dear’, fully aware that you’re currently mocking him.

“I know how demanding your work is. We used to come to this bar with our laptops open.”

“Yeah, good times huh? Hanbyul was still able to join us. Now that she’s engaged, she got no time for her poor friends.”

The laughter echoes from your table. You and Doyoung met during high school. If Jaehyun and Johnny initially don’t like each other, it was a completely different case for you and Doyoung. During orientation, both of you were late, and everybody already had their own groups, leaving you only with him. Turned out you stayed in the same neighborhood at that time so you guys walked together from school to home. That is when you found common interests with him –his taste in music. While the whole school prefers the top 40 songs (which is completely fine), it’s rare to find people like him who still listen to ballads. 

Doyoung is basically Hanbyul, but the male version. He is probably the only man you’d ever trust to keep all of your secrets. You pretty much couldn’t hide anything from him anyway, and vice versa.

“Also,” Doyoung moves his body closer to the table, “Someone might even leave me too after meeting her own prince.”

Doyoung is amused with your newly pinked cheeks, knowing that he has successfully teased you.

“Well, he is prince-like…”

“Someone’s showing off.” 

“Stop it, Doyoung.” You asked for his mercy, “But you know, he kinda seems too good to be true, and honestly, it scares me Doy.”

“What do you mean?” Your statement makes him raise one of his eyebrows.

“For starters, he’s extremely good looking,” Doyoung responded with rolling his eyes, auspiciously making you laugh. “He’s caring and very attentive. A fine gentleman, in a nutshell. But the thing is…”

You gulped your non-existent saliva, “I think he’s hiding something from me.”

Like a rabbit on full alert, his eyes are now wide open, “That should be a red flag, no?”

“I can’t decide yet. On the day he asked me out, he met a guy, I guess it’s from his past. He mentioned something about Jaehyun not contacting someone which he refers to as ‘him’. It was a heated argument, so I think it’s quite serious.”

“And you never ask him?”

“No, I don’t think I should pry on someone else’s past, you know? I just don’t think it’s right.”

The waiter came and brought your shares of G&T, “[Y/N], you’ve known him for three months before you dated, and it’s been another three since you told me that you guys are officially going out.”

“I know you don’t like to push someone, especially touching on their sensitive subjects. But regardless, you are his girlfriend and what if he is a serial killer? I think you deserve to know.”

Finally drenching your thirst with the cocktail, you took a sip before replying to Doyoung, “Well, he said he’s not after we make out, and so far he hasn’t shown any psychotic traits so I think I’m safe.”

“After you what?” Doyoung almost spurted his fresh cocktail.

He cleared his throat, “I’m just concerned with my best friend’s safety, OK? I believe in your judgment, and you’ve let him pursue you –means you wanted to see how committed he is to you, in a sense. Since you decided that you want to move your relationship into a more ‘serious’ phase, it indicates that he passed your test.”

“I never met him, but I know you and know how difficult it is to win your heart, I mean, remember that guy during college,”

You slapped his arms, causing him to whimper, “Ouch! Well, I’m saying he should be a good guy if he could win your heart, so just talk to him, will you? Whether he’ll answer or not, it’s a problem for another day.” 

“But if he doesn’t, you’ll let me know and I’ll talk man to man to him.” He ended his sentence by taking a sip of his cocktail.

You giggled, “Thanks Doy, I know I can always count on you.”

He shrugged, raising his glass to yours for a clink. 

“Speaking of which,”

“Jaehyun is coming to pick me up. Do you want him to join, so we can stay a bit longer? Or do you just want to go straight home after this?”

“Ah,” Doyoung put his glass on the table, “Jaehyun can come, I’d love to meet him. I wish I could go straight home, but I’m meeting a friend after this.”

“You have other friends?” You teased him.

“Shut up, [Y/N]. I’m better at socializing nowadays.”

“Not as good at me.”

“Yeah, cause I don’t lick on people’s asses.”

“Fuck you Doy.”

–

“No, I’m being serious [Y/N], you should try it. Jaehyun will love it.”

“And why should I listen to you?”

“Because I’m Doyoung and I’m your best friend I happened to have a dick too.”

“Shut the fuck off!”

You really don’t talk in filters when it comes to Doyoung, your stomach starts to feel numb from laughing so hard. You wipe your tear as you shift your gaze to the entryway, and you saw the pair of eyes that you know and you love. That gaze meets yours and immediately turns into half-moons, striding his way to your table.

“Speaking of the devil, enough with the dick talk. He’s here.”

Doyoung turned his back, trying to find the figure you’re talking about. The man in question was wearing a khaki gabardine blazer, pairing it with a black plain t-shirt, opting for a more smart-casual look. He did see Doyoung, but Jaehyun automatically approaches you first. 

“Hi, love.” He said before kissing you in the temple. “I never know you could laugh that hard. I must say I’m jealous.”

“Nonsense,” You hold his hand, gesturing him to sit right next to you. “I’d rather spend my time with you rather than with him. But I guess meet the wonderful Kim Doyoung.”

“[Y/N], you suck at introducing people,” Doyoung stood up from his seat. “Hi, I’m Doyoung. I’ve heard plenty of you from [Y/N], Jaehyun.”

“Jaehyun,” He shakes Doyoung’s hand firmly, introducing himself even though the other party already knows his name. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Doyoung. Likewise, I heard a lot of you from her.”

“I bet she never talks about the good stuff.”

“Rude, Doy. I compliment you a lot, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact you’re always unconsciously flirting in clubs and always manage to snag a girl back home?”

Jaehyun tried to hold in his laughter while Doyoung protested. He finally took a seat, not confirming whether what your statement is true or not.

“Do you want to order something?”

“I thought you said Doyoung is meeting someone after this?” He replies, averting his gaze to Doyoung afterward.

“Oh, you’re right. Who are you meeting again?” 

“Ah, remember Nakamoto Yuta? My business partner?”

You rolled your eyes upwards, trying to remember the person Doyoung’s talking about. “Oh! The Japanese guy right?”

“You’ve met him?” Jaehyun asked before Doyoung could answer.

“No, Doyoung only briefly mentioned his name because they’ve been working together for quite a while now. He’s in Seoul?”

“As a matter of fact,” Doyoung multitasked while answering you, unlocking his phone and you assumed that he’s going to check his messenger. “He’s going to move to Seoul soon. Our contract with him will be extended to 3 years long, at the very least. It would be a hassle if he’s going to constantly fly back to Osaka, that is why he’s going to transfer here instead. He’s meeting me today to talk a bit about our project, and the latter bit I guess he wanted to ask about accommodations and all of those essentials.”

Both of you and Jaehyun nod in unison. “Then I think we shouldn’t be a part of it, love.”

“I agree,” You took a final sip of your G&T. “It seems full of confidential stuff. Let’s meet him some other time.”

Since Doyoung is staying for a bit before Yuta came, you settled your portion of the bill by leaving your cash to Doyoung. You rise from your seat, giving him a goodbye hug.

“I’ll see you later, Jaehyun.”

“Absolutely,” Jaehyun slapped Doyoung’s hand.

As you were about to leave, Doyoung stopped you.

“Oh, [Y/N],” His sudden call made you turn your back to him. “Don’t forget what I just told you.”

You give him a middle finger in which he replied with a peal of mischievous laughter.

“What did he tell you?” Jaehyun couldn’t contain his curiosity.

“Ah,”

“I’ll tell you when we reach your place.”

—

Heavy panting filled the room, and regardless of the high-quality bed, the creaking sound can be noticeably heard. The room was tinted dark, but you can see beads of sweat on Jaehyun’s forehead, glistening from the light that is slightly peeking from the creaks of the curtain. The sound of his breathing while cupping your breast is more than enough to arouse you. He planted a mark on you, now bloomed purple.

“I can’t have enough of this,” Jaehyun said while holding one of your legs, rhythmically grinding inside of you as you reciprocate each of his thrusts with moans.

“You’re irresistible, [Y/N],”

He suddenly slid himself even deeper into you, coming unwarned. You arched your back, reaching the bed sheet for a support.

He groans, “And always fucking tight for me.”

You repeatedly call for his name, drowning yourself in something that is close to euphoria.

“Baby girl,” He continues to push his member, now every inch of him is inside you, “Your pussy is coiling me inside, you like it when I fuck you deep, huh?”

“Oh God, Jaehyun!”

“Shit, it's going in really deep,” He hissed as the tip of his cock touches your deepest part, where you cry at every kiss it made. “Baby you’re always able to take me so well, I should reward you.”

You grabbed him, digging your nails to his shoulder blade in pleasure, “Then don’t stop,” You plead hoarsely, as your voice is now mixed with your moans. “Fuck me faster, I’m almost there.”

It’s like a cue for Jaehyun, he slowly pulls out, only to enter you again when you thought he’s going to take it all out. He keeps his initial speed steady, before turning beastly after a couple more thrusts. You could feel like lighting coursing through your body, as the sound of your skin slapping with each other becomes louder, complemented with your moans.

“Jaehyun!” You screamed for his name. “Right there, right there!”

You were out of vocabularies as the only thing you could think of right now is how good he is at messing you up.

He lifted you, making you sit on his lap, pushing his cock even deeper. Shuddering from his thrust, you clenched to him, holding in the knot that is almost instantly undone with the sudden change of the position.

“Ah, baby love,” He stares into your eyes, full of lust. “I just can’t keep it together when I’m with you.”

“Oh God, Jaehyun, I’m cumming!”

“Good,” His breathing goes faster and thicker. “I’m almost there too.”

Jaehyun sloppily kissed your ears, trailing it down to your jawline to find your lips. As you bite his lips and meet his tongue, the sound of your panting becomes noisier, desperately trying to find air to breathe.

He continues to rub deep inside you, drawing circles inside you and making you twitch at every push. You can feel the sudden gush of waves, making you full in pleasure. You continuously rock your hip up and down, and he would occasionally spank you. You were in charge, and Jaehyun likes that.

“Fuck, [Y/N]!” He yells, “I’m gonna cum if you keep squeezing me like that!”

You struggled to keep your hip from going wild, the sound of squelching and panting occupied the room. You finally let out what it feels like an all-encompassing avalanche when he finally unloads. He spurted his in you almost violently. He holds you, making sure you’re still holding him, catching his own breath.

He kisses your neck, collarbone, and your shoulder as he is indulging his own pleasure, savouring every moment, drowning in ecstasy.

--

You let out small grumbles, telling Jaehyun that you’re now wide awake.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Gently caressing your hair, finding a position he deemed comfortable on the bed.

You hoarsely hummed. You’re not protesting, though, as you immediately search for his warmth. You snuggled your face to his chest, breathing in his smell that is now the same scent as your own.

“You really like that shirt, huh?” He said after seeing you in his shirt that is obviously too big for you. It’s the same shirt that you wore when you first spent the night and Jaehyun’s, and whenever you’re staying over, you subconsciously wore that shirt as your pajama. 

Your eyes are still hazy, but you smiled at the sight of him staring at you, “I do, it smells like you. Though we share the same scent now.”

He chuckles, agreeing with you especially when the scent of your shampoo is still vibrant in the air, the very same shampoo that Jaehyun used just now.

“It’s cute how you love my scent,”

“But I like it even more when I can smell yours too.” He said while playing with your hair.

You give him a confused smile, “Do you hate it when I smell manly like you? I’ll buy my toiletries tomorrow so I can put it here if that bothers you that much.”

Jaehyun lets out a warm and hearty laugh, “No baby, of course not. I like any of your scent.”

“Even when I’m all sweaty?”

“You’re sexy when you sweat, you know that right?”

“Bullshit.” You threw a vacant pillow to his face.

“What I mean was,” He moved the pillow, laughter still rolled from his mouth. “You can bring your shampoo here and not just your toothbrush. Or your soap, or even the entire wardrobe.”

You knitted your brows together, finally rising yourself from the laying down position. You stared low at Jaehyun, perplexed.

Jaehyun follows you, looking at you directly in the eyes. 

“I might, or might have not made my decision to ask you about this over that shower just now. But to clarify, I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

Touching your head and caressing you is probably Jaehyun’s habit on you. You like it too, because he treats you tenderly and it really shows how much Jaehyun cares about you.

So he did, “[Y/N], do you want to move in with me?”

“What?!” You’re now fully wide awake, processing what he just said.

“I know it might be sudden but I really do have been thinking about this a lot. Ever since we dated, I instantly know I would like to spend my time with you as much as I can. It was like, I could never have enough of you.”

Now that you think about it, Jaehyun never ended the calls you’ve made first. Even after the dates, he would stay at your apartment, whining to you when it's time for him to go home, and did exactly the same when you’re staying at his.

“I miss you, constantly.” He took a strand of your hair, kissing it. “Whenever I wake up and have you sleeping soundly next to me over the weekends where you are staying over, I feel… content. And I wish you were here on my weekdays too.”

“On my regular days where I came home after work, I just felt like this place is now too big for a single man.”

Your pupils quivered, not sure whether you can make your decision right now or not.

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” He holds your hand, trying to comfort you. “The offer valids for as long as I’m with you, and I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon. It is sudden, I know, but again, like what I said to you when I first asked you out…”

“What’s the first twenty four hours if we’re looking back at the past seventy years?” You finished his sentence before he does, to which he replies with a grin, happy that you remembered.

Like a magnet, seeing his smile bloomed pulls you to his hug. You always feel safe under Jaehyun’s embrace. He is warm, and you always enjoy the sound of his heartbeat being so close to yours.

“Let’s go to bed first, and you can talk about it later when you want to. No need to rush, OK?”

He playfully throws your bodies to the bed, still cuddling you. He kisses your forehead, then your left cheek, then your right cheek, before finally landing his last kiss on your lips. It was a long, intimate kiss, but not lustful. He always does this ritual before saying goodbye to you.

“Good night, baby.” He said after he separates his lips to you.

“Good night.” You grinned. “I love you.”

He shows his dimples before you close your eyes. “As I do too.”

–

The sizzling sound and the strong fragrance of coffee wakes you up from your slumber. You struggled to keep your eyes open, however you could sense the missing warmth of Jaehyun next to you. You figured that he must’ve been the one who’s doing the ruckus.

You exited the room, and you saw him focusing on the sunny side ups. He didn’t realize you’re up until you hugged him from behind. 

“Morning.” You said in a rough voice.

“Good morning,” He straighten his back, looking back at you and smiling. “Did you have a good sleep?”

As you rest your head on his back, you didn’t bother to say things since you just woke up so you nod instead.

Jaehyun holds your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Breakfast is almost ready, will you wait?”

“You always prepare our breakfast, let me do it too.”

“And wake you up? You might be my princess, but I don’t want to disturb your sleep. You’re beautiful while you’re sleeping.”

You slapped him on his stomach at his cheesy remarks, causing him to flinch and laugh.

“Wait at the table, you’ll get oil splatters.”

You listened to him, bringing the cutleries and condiments to the table. You patiently wait, and stare at his broad shoulder. It’s funny how such a manly figure is now concentrating so much on making his breakfast only in white shirt and boxer. It’s cute how he fidgets with his spatula, making sure he didn’t burn his eggs.

“Do you need any help?” You asked him, feeling guilty to make him do all the work.

“No, just stay there, love. I’m done with the plating anyway.”

He brings your breakfast to the table, and returns to the counter to pour your share of coffee. It was a simple, hearty breakfast, consisting of toast, bacon, and eggs.

“Here you go,” He puts your cup next to your plate, which you immediately take a sip of.

It's only been three months and he knows every single detail of your preference. The way you like your yolk to be slightly runny, and you like your coffee with cold milk and two cubes of sugar. He even drizzled some sea-salt, crushed black peppers, and chili flakes on yours because you always eat it that way. He only slightly toast your bread because you prefer soft breads over crusty toast since you hate it when you have crumbles all over.

The fact that he knows.

“Is it okay?”

“Okay what?” Jaehyun mumbles, most likely because he just took a big bite of his toast.

“For me to stay.”

“Do you want to go somewhere? I thought you wanted to watch some Ghibli.”

You giggled softly, “Jaehyun, I meant something else.”

He was confused at first, lines forming at his forehead because he tried to decipher your words. It took only a brief moment for him to fully process what you meant, and he instantly widened his eyes.

“So you're saying…”

You let out a smile that widens into a grin, “Jaehyun, I agree it might be a bit too soon, but there’s nobody in this world who would take care of me as good as you.”

“So yeah, what’s the first three months if we’re looking back at the past seventy years, or more, even?”

Jaehyun unable to contain his happiness, lips lifted upward and forcefully scrunching his nose. He immediately rose from his seat, coming at your direction and lifted you, joyfully swinging you in his arms.

“Baby you don’t know how happy I am right now.” He snuggles his face on the crook of your neck, muffling his sentence. But you can perfectly hear him because deep inside you are equally as happy as he is, especially after making him over the moon with your decision.

“Me too, love.” You said as you hold onto his neck, making sure you are supporting yourself. “But moving is such a tedious job, you know. It’s not like I can move tomorrow, there are tons of paperworks to be done. I have to go to my bank to tell them I changed my address, and oh the packing part!”

He grinned to reveal his perfectly aligned teeth, “Well, we can start packing today. We can watch Ghibli anytime if you're going to stay here.”

You slapped him playfully, “Dude, there’s no way I’m postponing Ghibli.”

–

“Babe, should I pack this one too?”

Although you said you don’t want to rush things, both you and Jaehyun couldn’t help to be excited at the idea of you sharing your place together. So the following week you started to pack some of your stuff, and Jaehyun – the kind man that he is – suggested that he would help you out. 

You’ve spent the whole morning trying to declutter, hoping that you could pack less. Jaehyun ended up having to look for you because you were nowhere to be found in a room full of mementos. Photo albums, clothes that you wore during your first week at work that’s already out of fashion, lipsticks that are probably way past their expiration date, you tried your best to sort them out. Eventually Jaehyun is in charge of taking out the garbage, while you start to pack the essential items so that you can transport them to Jaehyun’s place.

“I think that should be all for today.” You stretched your arms and legs, throwing yourself to the couch.

Jaehyun approaches you, crossing his arm over your shoulder. “You got everything you need?”

“Yeah I think so.” You try to remember the things that you put inside your suitcase. Regardless, you’re still able to come back to your apartment as it will be another sleepover at Jaehyun’s – except you’ll extend it to the next weekend instead of coming back home on Sunday.

“Oh, I forgot,” He moves forward, now looking at you. “There’s a company year-end party next week. Would you like to come with me?”

You are surprised by two things; first, the fact that he actually asked you. Jaehyun keeps his private and professional life separately. Aside from Johnny and occasionally Donghyuck, you barely know anyone from his company. Not that you want him to bring you along, the last thing that you want is the attention you’ll gather when people know that you’re in a relationship with the COO of one of the biggest companies in Seoul. Second, the fact that he asked you out with only a week for you to prepare yourself.

“You sure it’s ok for me to come?”

“Of course,” He tugs the strand of your hair to the back of your ear. “In fact, I’ve been meaning to bring you along. But I just feel that we need more time for us to be ready. And I feel like we are now, since you agree to live together with me.”

Butterflies start to fly in your stomach with his statement, merely because you couldn’t believe you just took a giant step with Jaehyun. You hold his hand, interlacing your fingers with him. “I can’t believe you just told me a week before the event. You do realize it took us girls some time to prep ourselves? Is there any dress code?”

Jaehyun's face dissolved into that vision of unrestrained mirth, chuckling warmly, “Any formal dress will do. The purpose of me coming here is to check whether I should buy you a new dress or not but apparently I saw that wine-colored dress you have and I think it’ll look stunning on you.”

You slowly placed the hand over your mouth, dumbfounded, “Well, now I wish you never helped me, I could get a new dress.”

–

“Welcome to the party!” The host greeted you at the entry, welcoming both of you with a wide smile.

“Jeong Jaehyun,” He said to the host, “and plus one.”

The host's eyes widened, and it took him barely a second to locate Jaehyun’s seat. They most likely put him on the VIP list, therefore he probably already saw his name multiple times. He asked Jaehyun to follow one of the waiters, who will guide you to your designated seats.

To call it a simple, corporate year end party would be an understatement. The venue was marvellously decorated with draping on the ceiling, perfectly complimenting the grand chandelier in the middle. Ivory-colored ostrich feathers can be seen as the main statements of the decoration. The hall used neo-romanian style pillars, but the organizer did a splendid job on transforming it to a chic vintage-themed party, with a modern twist — à la Great Gatsby.

Thank God you told Jaehyun to buy you a new dress — because you’re not sure whether the dress you own would be adequate for the party, but also Jaehyun insisted that he would purchase it as a gift since you moved in with him. Though, you must say you didn’t expect him to purchase an Elie Saab dress.

“Jae, what the heck!”

“What?”

“I thought you were just going to buy me some dress from Zara, not something from Elie Saab!”

“Well I just happened to walk past their boutique after meeting a client. Then I remember I still owe you a dress, so I browse for a bit and I think you’ll look beautiful in this.”

“You don’t like it?” He gave you a puppy stare.

“Of course I do, but this is beyond anything that I could purchase! Are we still able to refund this?”

He chuckled, laced with a hum of amusement at the matter. “I never refund my purchase, love. Please just take it, it’ll look lovely on you.”

And that is how you are able to steal the audience’s attention. Jaehyun's choice was a black, one-shoulder sequinned gown. It dresses you glamorously, with the long flowing cape-like detail on one of the shoulders, but still keeping it rather demurely by retaining the classic black dress silhouette that is not over the top. One of the slits was up above your knees, exposing your leg every time you took a strand.

However you know every one’s eyes are targeted towards the arm that you linked with Jaehyun. Few glares were mostly from the women, wondering how you could be Jaehyun’s companion for the night. Of course, that makes you feel insecure, and you unconsciously held his arm tighter. Jaehyun noticed that you’re nervous. He is used to being the center of attention, but you don’t. He reassured you, clasping your fingers together warmly. You look at him, only to see him smiling at you gently, and that’s enough to put you in ease.

You saw Johnny from far, and it seems that you will share a table with him tonight, assuming from the waiter’s direction. 

Johnny was ready to greet you with a smile, except that he didn’t after he saw something, instantly turning his expression sour. 

“Jaehyun,”

A tall, poise middle-aged man approaches Jaehyun. His hair is smoky-grey, paired with a darkly handsome heavily lined face. He shared a baritone-voice like Jaehyun, but colder. It was confident, but husky as the man had probably consumed too much cigar throughout his life. You swore you’ve seen this man before, but you can’t really remember. But what is certain is that he is a man with power, at least judging by his charismatic aura.

Jaehyun didn’t let go of your hand, and the reason being he is probably seeking mental support.

“It’s rare for you to come to our annual party, father.”

His last word takes you by surprise. You thought you were just going to enjoy the party, drinking a few champagnes and probably introducing yourself to few of Jaehyun’s friends and colleagues, but definitely not his family.

“Ah, yes.” His father clasped his hand together. “I thought it was a nice change of pace. Also, I think it’s about time for him to come, don’t you think?”

“Him?”

Soon after, a figure appeared from his father’s back.

“It’s been a while, elder brother.”

Now it’s Jaehyun's turn to be nervous.

“Mark?”

A/N: I have to use this chapters in multiple settings, unlike the previous ones! It might feel a bit jumpy? But I hope everything will make sense as the story progresses! :)

[kittycatsco]

ENDORSED BREEDERS

ENDORSED BREEDERSEndorsed Breeders Have A Unique Position At KittyCats.CO. You Stand Out as a Dedicated, Passionate and Serious Breeder With High Quality Cats and Kittens.   We Know You Want To Command A Price Worthy of The Quality You Have Spent Years Developing. The Homemade Cat Food, The Endless Litter Box Changes, The Dedicated Selection of Queens And Toms, The Match Making, And Then Comes..... The PURRents. So Many People Think They Are Just Cats With A Breed Name Attached, When In Reality, It's The Furthest Thing Away. At KittyCats.CO, We Are Dedicated To Becoming The Leader in Our Market For The Right Reasons. The Love And Passion of Placing Kittens And Cats With The PURRfect Match.   Clientelle? (Now, For Many of You Whom Already Have Outstanding Show Cats, Famous Cats or Pedigreed Cats  With A Huge Following, This Does Not Apply To You.) But For The Vast Majority Of Breeders, The Following Does. Today, The Clients Seek To Text You And Receive All of The Information They Desire. . . Immediately, Pictures With All Of The Details, Right? And Then, Do You Ever Hear Back From Them? Hmmm. Is The Number Even A Real Number?  Let Me Call Them The "How Much Is It And Is It Still Availbale?" Group.   This is the marketing issue that we are addressing.  Take back the power and make our potential purrents qualify. No, this will not happen overnight, but if a new standard is set, it will ripple throughout the internet and industry, and You, my friend will find Yourself And Your Cattery, AT THE TOP. Our PURRfect Match Questionnaire is designed with intentional questions that make the ptoential PURRent think about what they are seeking.  What do they want, a cute, adorable furrball that has the personality of a trainwreck, destined to destroy every porcelin decoration in their home, all because it's a smushed in face, long haired, registered persian.   Rehoming happens because of personality mismatches are a huge reality.  Sure, I might have made $2,500.00, but how is the long term personality match, this is the match making questions that have bcome the reality of shelter overcrowding that is not being addressed.  So let's take a closer look at what we, as ethical breeders can do. Let's Role Play a Moment as The Breeder To The Potential PURRent   Yes, potential Purrent, she is an adorable little love bug with most beautiful features in the pictures, but I see in your questionnaire that you want to be able to train her to walk on a leash and ride in cars. Is this correct?  Yes answers the potential purrent.  We like to go on trips and we plan to walk her just like a dog.   Well, I am not saying she isn't capable of it, but being with her from the start, she is the submissive hider type. She doesn't show the personality trait You're looking for, but if You'd consider the male, he's the outgoing one that really seems to fit more of your active outdoor lifestyle and seems like he'd be the one that would be confident walking on the leash. In fact, Would You Like me to start training him before You pick him up?   People Make Choices Out Of Desire And Emotions - Not Always Common Sense So Moms and Dads, we all know our children have unique personalities, desires and dreams of their own, no matter what family business they may stand to inherit, they may still go another direction out of desire and emotion. I am a real life cattle rancher, and I will tell you the saying is true; You Can Lead a Horse To Water, But You Can't Make Him Drink. The phrase is a proverb that means you can provide someone with a nice opportunity, but you can’t make them take it if they don’t want to.   The Take Away - We Bring Desire And Emotion To Them  They Want To Take The Drink of Water - They Just Need To Learn How To Drink    Refer back to the questionnaire and the personality types. I see here You that the kitten you seek may be a social media type of personality.  Great! What kind of personality or unique features are you looking for?____________ (Let them answer the question). Well, I'd love spotted white kitten with blue and green eyes that will ride on my bicycle with me. So looks and temperament are very important! Well I don't have that but I do have _____.  (STOP IT) Trust me, if you don't have the kitten that fits the bill that they are seeking, (in this case a showpiece and a an outgoing confident cat that will love being outside), don't continue. This is not ethical match making.  They will break up out of frustration. If You do not have the cat that meets this criteria, move on. Perhaps refer him to another breeder with confident outgoing cats or that breed type, if You can. Yes, cats can be trained or made to function to some degree, and then they may pee all over your clothesbasket when your not looking out of sheer inner rage and terror. Now, the PURRent has another issue to deal with and happiness is not one of the issues.   Learn To Taste The Water First   So I have this kitten, he's called Wicked, he's a wild looking 24 toed polydactyl - Scottish Fold - t hat literally looks like a python snake pattern. The example here is:  His Personality is athletic, outgoing, loving and all around, OMG. Gorgeous and rare. His colors are so stunning with silver-blue and black stripes, marbles, and hazel eyes, he would blend right into the scenery of a movie set for King Kong, the newest version where all the creatures come to life and attack the crew) or jurassic park movie. The point is, his personality type is destined to be with a like personality type human.  This little guy will walk on a leash and is training to do this inside now.  He balances the perfect standing groundhog stance for 30 plus seconds, and is not the average type.  He deserves to have a outgoing lifestyle with a outgoing human family.   The PURRfect Match Survey Pours The Glass of Water For You So You CAN Taste It Match Making - Just Like The Reality Show Without The Glitz and Fakiness. You have the first part of the match - Now we find the other half and put them together.       Read the full article

[banditthewriter]

Redolence - Billy Russo - 1

This is my A/B/O fic that I’ve been working on for a while. I use a comprehensive set of warnings so please be mindful. If you have questions or concerns, shoot me a message! 

Redolence: the quality of smelling strongly of something or of having qualities (especially smells) that make you think of something else

Summary: The reader is an Omega who works at a Companion Center that helps the Alphas through their ruts. She gets a request from an Alpha named Billy Russo. An immediate connection builds into more as the two of them navigate the ins and outs of the society they live in and the feelings their connection brings out of them.

Warnings: Smut. No really, lots of smut. Also angst because yeah. Sex in various positions. Oral sex (male and female receiving.) The reader does sleep with other Alphas but it is only ever mentioned, never described. Some talk of slave trade, not detailed. Angry sex. Unprotected sex. Reader experiences a bad panic attack that is described.

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*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

"Why do we do this job again?"

You tilted your head back to see your best friend and fellow Omega on her back with a frown on her face. Karen Page was scowling at her phone.

"Is that your Alpha?"

And there it was, an attractive blush over her cheeks. If anything could get her out of her sour puss mood, it was mention of her Alpha.

"He's not my Alpha," she stressed even as her blush grew darker, "he's just an Alpha I happen to see a lot."

Since the two of you were in the common room, you didn’t remind her that she saw him outside of the Companion Center where the two of you lived and worked. If someone overheard, Karen and her Alpha would be in serious trouble. 

Alpha and Omega relationships weren't forbidden. In fact if an Alpha and an Omega started a relationship after meeting in the Companion Center, it was seen as a successful union. But there were proper channels and a process to it.

Plus it meant Karen would have to leave the center. She'd either get her own apartment or move in with her Alpha, a military man named Frank Castle. 

But for the sake of clarity, you reminded Karen why you both did this job.

"We work here because we both make more money in a month than we could in six months or a year at a job on the outside."

It was true. The normal salary for an Omega at the Companion Center was a few thousand dollars a month. Since they didn't have to pay rent or utilities, money was spent on decorating their homes and things like clothes or groceries. 

Everything else was savings. You yourself had a very nice chunk of change in a savings account for when you left the center permanently. 

Karen sighed and put her phone down on her chest. 

"He says his rut is in a few weeks," she explained quietly.

Ah, so that's why she was frowning. That was, after all, the purpose of the Companion Center and the reason the two of them met.

When an Alpha knows their rut is coming, they go to the Companion Center to pick an Omega. You hadn't seen the choosing room but you imagined a large book with scratch and sniff stickers. Alphas would be given your name and a receptor with your scent and that was how they picked which Omega to spend their rut with. 

They could request the same Omega after that, if they were happy with the results the first time. That's how Karen and Frank got to know each other before they randomly met in the city when Karen was running errands.

And now they talked daily.

If Frank's rut was coming up, it meant he'd come to the center and request to see Karen. That in itself was fine, but you had the feeling that Karen was starting to resent her job a little bit. 

It had to feel weird to have feelings for a man you met at the center. The whole purpose was to come in and have casual sex with someone you didn't know. 

Well, the purpose was more nuanced than that, but that's what it boiled down to. The Omegas were there to help the Alphas during their rut. It wasn't supposed to be romantic or meaningful.

You understood the protestations of society about Companion Centers. They likened it to prostitution or being a sex slave. But you didn't feel that way. 

Alphas didn't pay for the service, so you weren't a prostitute. You got paid for being a Companion which wasn't always sex. Some Alphas came to the center for companionship. Omegas came to the center to learn about their physiology. It wasn't always sex, so you weren't a sex slave.

You weren't a slave at all. You picked this job. Sure, you lived and worked at the center, but you were free to leave. And you could go out to the city anytime you wanted. 

Stories of Omegas being trafficked for Alphas in ruts were rampant in the city though. And female Omegas were often taken for forced breeding with Alphas as that was the most surefire way to get an Alpha child. 

You gave Karen's hand a comforting pat, unsure what you could say that would make her feel better. Then you pushed yourself off the floor where you had settled and stood up, cracking your back a bit as you did. 

"I'm going to go make dinner. Give me a call if you want to watch a movie or something."

Karen gave you a welcome smile before you turned and headed to the elevator.

The elevators in the center worked differently than most. It didn't just move up and down, but also horizontally. The center was some thirty stories high and a few football fields in length. It held a hundred living quarters for Omegas.

The Alpha would get in the elevator on the main floor and the controller would send them to the Omega they had picked. It would go to the floor and then rotate until it found the correct apartment. 

Not unlike a vending machine which was ironic.

You got into the elevator and scanned your wrist where you wore your ID tag. It told the elevator which apartment was yours. It also told people in the city that you were an Omega at the Companion Center and therefore protected. 

The elevator came to a stop at your apartment and you got out. Down the short hallway, you scanned your ID tag once more to be let in. This way only you were allowed in your room unless you opened the door for the other person. It was for the safety of the Omega.

In your apartment, you started for the kitchen but a gentle chime made you hesitate. The touchscreen next to the door was lit up with a message. 

You tapped the corner which brought the message to full screen. 

Alpha 659437 - William Russo requests Companionship 

You had been requested. You clicked on the name and waited for the information to load. There wasn't much, but there never was.

Thirty six years old, previous military, currently a businessman. There were physical traits but you never read through those. 

Back on the first screen you finally saw the time requested. It was for that same day in just a few hours. Usually companion requests were sent a few days ahead of time, but maybe this Alpha hadn't been aware that his rut was on its way.

You tapped a green square at the bottom of the screen after you read the information. It thanked you for accepting the Alpha’s request before the screen went dark.

With an Alpha on the way, you didn't have time to make dinner. Instead you checked your fridge to make sure you had enough food and water for the evening to come. Satisfied, you grabbed a protein bar and headed into your bedroom.

It was clean except for some dirty clothes which you put into the hamper and then put into your closet. Then you stripped your bed and put those in a separate hamper to wash later.

In a separate closet were rows of vacuum sealed bags that you removed. The routine was familiar after a few years. These sheets were washed with unscented detergent so that the Alpha wouldn't be assaulted with too many different scents. You put them on the bed and pillows. Next was a quilt from one of the vacuum sealed bags.

Bed made, you finished your protein bar. It wasn't much, but you'd grab a second one after your shower. 

That was next in the routine. In your bathroom there were bottles of different scented shampoos and body washes. Instead you pulled out a few items from a grey box that was under your sink. You set out a few on the counter that the Alpha could use if he needed. Then you grabbed yours from the box.

Unscented soap, unscented shampoo and conditioner, vacuum sealed washcloth and towel.

After you had showered and dried off, you pulled out some clothes to wear. Plain underwear and a sports bra paired with a pair of soft yoga pants and a t-shirt. These were clean but they weren't vacuum sealed. This way they held your scent enough that the Alpha would recognize you from the choosing room where they had picked out your scent.

And also to get them used to your scent before their rut took hold. At that point, they'd be smelling a lot of you. 

You only had about thirty minutes to kill at that point so you went into the kitchen and grabbed another protein bar. While you munched on that, you pulled out some food to set on the table.

Some Alphas wanted a meal first, to talk and get to know their Omega companion. Some wanted to watch television or just talk. A few had played cards with you. 

Some Alphas just wanted to go straight to bed. Those were your least favorite. They made you feel like some sort of commodity, just something for them to use. They were also the ones that left immediately after.

You, like most Omegas at the Companion Center, preferred the Alphas that talked to you like a human. They were grateful for your help during their rut. An Alpha without someone to spend their rut with was miserable. The ones that just treated you like a thing to use? Those made your skin craw. 

The time ticked by slowly, but finally your touchscreen chimed. You clicked on the view and saw that a tall man was in the hallway with the elevator doors closing behind him. The camera wasn’t very high tech so you couldn’t make out any of his physical characteristics, but you didn’t need to.

You pressed the button on the touchscreen that activated the speaker.

"Alpha ID?"

The man looked at the door in confusion until he saw the speaker and camera. Then he gave it a nod.

"659437."

You released the speaker button and then unlocked the door. When you pulled it all the way open, you were surprised by what you saw. His face was scarred, but there was more than that. Even with those scars, he was terribly handsome. Dark eyes and long lashes, some facial hair spread over the unscarred parts of his cheeks, a mouth that was downturned into a frown.

You bet he looked beautiful when he smiled.

“Please come in,” you said as you waved him into your apartment. “Make yourself at home.”

He hesitated a moment and you felt a frown tug at your own lips. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d been turned down by an Alpha when they got to your apartment, but it never got easier. Just as you started to build yourself up to tell him he could go back down and pick someone else, he stepped across the threshold.

You shut the door behind him and watched as he looked around. His hands were fisted at his side as he stood stiffly in the middle of your entryway. But at least he was inside. You could fall onto your companion training.

“Do you want something to eat? Or drink? I have some stuff laid out if you’re hungry,” you said as you moved around him to the table, letting him see the options. “I can also make something if you’d prefer.”

He turned to face you and you noticed that the frown wasn’t as fierce as it was before. Now he just seemed confused.

“Do you always feed Alphas when they come by?”

He had a bit of a New York accent that made you want to smile, but you didn’t. You didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him. Instead you shrugged a shoulder and met his eyes.

“If you are hungry, sure. If you aren’t hungry, we can sit and watch television for a bit. Or just talk, if you’d prefer,” you offered as you gestured towards the couch and loveseat in the living room.

He still looked confused. With a nod, he moved into the living room and sat down on one of the couches. You followed his lead and moved to sit on the loveseat, keeping yourself near to him but not crowding him. He looked uncomfortable.

He was thirty six; surely this wasn’t his first time at the Companion Center? Going that long without a partner for his rut would make him nearly feral once it hit. The center was usually careful with that, but perhaps they missed something.

You needed to put him at ease, so you continued with your training.

“What would you like me to call you? Alpha Russo? William?”

He shook his head at that. You were wondering if maybe you weren’t to call him anything when he finally spoke.

“Billy. You can call me Billy.”

Billy. You wondered if it fit the man on your couch. He looked more like a William, mature and in charge, but maybe Billy would grow on you.

“Alright Billy. You can call me Y/N if you would like.” 

Always defer to what they wanted, always give them the choice. These were things that you had learned early in your training and it was the easiest to fall back on. But Billy was still sitting stiffly on the couch.

It would be rude to ask if this was his first time at the Companion Center. It would be rude to question why he was requesting a companion if it seemed like he didn’t actually want one.

Instead you moved to the edge of the cushion you were on and waited for his eyes to meet yours once more.

“Billy, you seem tense. Would you like me to rub your shoulders? Just to help you relax a bit.”

He seemed surprised. There was a long moment before he gave a nod, giving you permission. You stood up and slowly moved to stand behind the couch. Then you carefully placed the backs of your hands against his shoulders. It gave him a moment to prepare and accept that someone—an Omega—was behind him. Alphas were notorious for attacking when they felt threatened so you were trained to never be threatening.

Once you were sure he would not flinch or attack, you pressed your palms to his shoulders. You could feel the tension that he held there. As you started to press in with your thumbs, you started up a thread of conversation.

“Did you see that it’s going to storm for the entire weekend? The weather channel said we’re going to record amounts of rain.”

You kept up the ministrations of your hands as you talked to him about the weather. His responses were monosyllabic, but at least he was responding. And you could feel a little relaxation in his shoulders as you worked.

“I’m sorry for being… awkward,” he finished in a tone that was closer to self deprecation and humor than you had expected. 

“Nothing to apologize for,” you promised as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “Do you want me to continue?”

There was a moment of hesitation before he nodded jerkily. You continued your work while talking to him about a movie you had seen recently.

The massage actually held two benefits. It would loosen him up a bit, sure, but it also got him used to your touch and scent. You were sure to turn your wrists towards him as often as you could and make it seem natural. The scent glands in the wrists were gentle and not overbearing so it was the easiest way to get a new Alpha used to your scent.

“The last time I came to the center, it wasn’t like this,” he admitted as you worked on a particularly stubborn knot near his shoulder blade.

Your hands paused for a moment at that. You did some math in your head and then let out a breath.

“You haven’t been to the center in over five years?” 

That’s when the change happened, when the Betas that ran the center changed the protocols from just sex to companionship.

“I was deployed for some of that. Then I started a business right after I got out. And I was in recovery for a while.”

His scars. You remembered that he had been in the military and now he was a businessman. It wasn’t unusual for the body to shut down the mating response while under all that stress, plus the military used suppressants. And if he was injured, which obviously he was, his body would have been focused on healing rather than mating.

But that made you pause for a different reason.

With one hand still on him at all times, you moved to stand beside the couch where he was sitting. You didn’t want to break the contact and you told yourself it was because you didn’t want to lose this connection the two of you had started.

“Billy, I have a question that I normally wouldn’t ask an Alpha, especially not on our first meeting. Will you permit me to ask a personal question?”

He closed his eyes—more of a wince than anything else.

“Go ahead.”

You gave his shoulder a brief squeeze, letting him feel that you were still there. With his eyes closed, you definitely didn’t want to take your hand away from him.

“How long has it been since your last rut?”

His eyes popped open and you immediately yanked your hand away from his shoulder, despite your training that fast movements weren’t a good idea. His hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist, but there wasn’t any violence in the touch.

It was more like he just wanted the contact. Like he needed it maybe. He tugged your wrist closer to him and you watched as he stared down at the inside of your wrist.

“I thought you were going to ask what happened,” he said as if he was addressing your wrist.

You opened your mouth as that sank in. That’s why he had reacted the way he had when you asked. It made sense, but you would never be so impertinent as to ask that kind of question. You were about to relay as much to him, but he shook his head and began speaking once more.

“I had a rut before my accident, but I didn’t have a… companion, I guess. I got through it alone. They usually come on pretty quickly for me and I didn’t have a chance to get to the center before it hit fully.”

You slowly reached out with your free hand and covered his with yours.

“That must be difficult. But you’re here now. I’ll take good care of you Billy.”

It was something you usually said to the Alphas. You meant it in an all encompassing kind of way, like you providing food and a massage if they needed it. Billy nodded his head, his eyes still on your wrist. You watched as he raised it up, but all he did was press his nose to the soft skin there.

His skin felt warm. And by the way he was checking your scent, he was getting closer to his rut taking hold.

“Would you stand for me?”

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking them lazily as if he had been getting lost in your scent. Then he gave a nod as if he had just heard your question. You stood up and he followed suit, still holding on to your wrist. Once he was standing, you stepped backwards so that he would have to step with you.

Two more steps and then you were away from the couches. He followed almost as if he was entranced, but you could see a flush rising to his skin. You didn’t think he was the kind to blush, so it was more that his rut was starting to take hold. Of course he had just been inhaling the scent of an Omega, so it wasn’t a surprise that his rut was kicking in.

“We’re going to go to the bedroom now,” you said softly as you stepped into his space, seeing his eyes become heavy lidded as he looked down at you. 

His irises were so dark that you almost couldn’t see the pupil. Or maybe it was just that his pupils were so large right then. 

You led him towards your bedroom with his hand still wrapped around your wrist. Across the threshold, you glanced back and caught his eyes roaming over your body. You felt a little gratified by the look in his eye and that was intensified by the sight of him getting hard in his jeans.

Shit. You couldn’t remember the last time you were actually attracted to an Alpha that had requested you. And you definitely couldn’t remember the last time you’d gotten hot under the collar at the way they reacted to you.

In the safety of the bedroom, you lowered the lighting so that it wasn’t so bright. Then you moved so that you were both next to the bed. You could see the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing started to race.

“Do you want to start like this? Or do you want to go ahead and get undressed?”

You barely got the question out before he was kicking off his shoes and socks. As he fought with the zipper of his jeans, you raised your hands to your shirt. His hands clasped around your wrists and he shook his head.

“I want to do that,” he breathed in a low voice as he stepped closer to you.

With his jeans unbuttoned and open, he grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off of you. Once that was off, he pulled off his own shirt.

He had scars. You expected it after seeing his face, but the reality was different. You fought back the urge to trace them with your fingers. His hands moved to the bottom of your sports bra and he pulled that off of you as well.

For the first time since he had touched your wrist, he looked uncertain. You grabbed his hands and pressed them on your ribs, letting him feel you take a deep breath that way.

“You can touch me,” you said in a soft voice, your mouth feeling a bit dry at the feel of his hands on your skin. 

His hands slid up your sides to cup your breasts. You felt his thumbs brush over your nipples and you bit your lip to keep from making an incredibly embarrassing noise. He did it again and this time you let your head fall forward at the feeling. 

Then his hands were gone, but only long enough for him to shed his jeans and briefs. He stood before you completely nude. With your head tilted, you could look as much as you wanted without being caught. And yeah, he was beautiful all the way down.

His hands were back on your skin, but this time they moved down your body. His fingers hooked under the waistband of your yoga pants and the underwear you wore under them. He tugged them down over your hips and thighs, letting you kick them off.

Now you were both bare. His eyes were all over your body. You wanted more than his eyes though. You wanted his hands on your body. You grabbed his wrists and moved his hands to your sides once more. One of his hands went up to your breast again, but the other moved down. It went over your hip to your thigh, the tips of his fingers pressing into the swell of your ass. He tugged you close as he did that, your bodies so close you could feel the heat from him.

“Y/N?”

It was the first time he’d said your name. You blinked up at him and hoped that he couldn’t tell how hazy you were just then. His eyes looked crystal clear as he stared down at you.

With your head tilted up to him, he leaned in as if he was going to kiss you. Only he stopped a few inches away. Realizing that he wasn’t going to take that step without your permission, you surged up to kiss him. The touch of his lips against yours seemed to set a fire inside of him.

Warmth spread over your body from him. His hands moved to grip your hips, tugging you up so that you had to wrap your legs around his waist. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you kissed him, sucking on his tongue and panting harshly against his mouth. Then everything was topsy turvy until you felt your back against the bed.

He had tipped the two of you over. It put the weight of him resting between your legs. You put your feet against the bed and rolled your hips upwards, grinding up against his cock. He pushed your hips down and leaned over you, kissing you hard once more.

As an Omega, your sex drive usually mirrored that of the Alpha you were with when they were in a rut. You felt like you were going to combust if Billy didn’t get inside of you soon so you could only imagine how he was feeling. And with him having so few ruts in the last few years, you weren’t exactly sure what to expect.

He pulled your hands from around his sides and pressed them down against the bed on either side of your head. His fingers lingered on your wrists as he kissed you, his tongue sliding against yours. When he pulled away, it was to kiss across your jaw and down your neck, inhaling over your scent glands. His teeth scraped against your collarbone and you rolled your hips up into his again.

When he finally released your wrists, it was so that his hands could go down your body. His hands went to your thighs and spread them wider. Then he was kissing his way down your body. You looked down to watch as he kissed across your thighs. He pressed his nose into the junction of your thigh and your pelvis and took a deep breath. The scent glands there were the strongest, but you hadn’t expected him to pay much attention to it.

Most Alphas were more interested in their own pleasure, but Billy didn’t seem to be in any rush to get inside you. Instead his hand went between your legs. His fingers rubbed between your folds, finding you already dripping wet. He made a pleased noise at finding the wetness there. You were sure he would put his fingers inside of you then, give you something, but instead he spread your folds and lowered his mouth to your clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned as your hand went to the back of his head to hold him close, your hips moving to grind your pussy against his mouth.

His tongue lapped up at your wetness, sliding up the length of your slit. Then he focused attention on your clit, sucking and circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. His fingers moved lower. His middle finger went in first, curling upwards to brush against your g-spot. He fucked it in and out of you while he focused his mouth on your aching clit.

You were lost in the feeling that he was causing. All you could do is ride it out as he added a second finger. The fingers moved faster and faster, slamming into you harder. It was so close to what you really needed. That and the suction of his mouth on your clit had your back arching as your orgasm rocked over you.

Usually you’d come when the Alpha did, but you could probably count on one hand the number of Alphas who wanted to make you come before they did. Most Alphas were more focused on their pleasure.

Billy pulled away from your pussy, wiping his mouth as he did. His tongue ran along his bottom lip and you clenched around the fingers still inside of you. His eyes moved down to where he was inside of you, grinning at the feeling. He pumped the fingers in you a few times before he sat up completely.

“Do you have condoms?”

You leaned up on one arm and leaned over to your bedside table. Inside was a new box and you pulled it out. You had a feeling you were going to need a new box after tonight.

He opened the box and then pulled out one of the condoms. He opened the foil and then held it out to you.

“Put it on me.”

There was a thread of the Alpha compulsion in his voice, but you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose. You grabbed it from him to slide it on him, jerking his cock a few times just because you couldn’t help yourself. It was like the perfect length and girth, fit perfectly in your hand. 

An image of your mouth on it made your pussy clench again, but thankfully he didn’t feel it this time. Usually any time you gave oral was because the Alpha requested it. You’d never wanted to do it as badly as you did right then.

Once the condom was on him, you started to roll over. Most Alphas preferred the first time to be with the Omega on their hands and knees. But Billy grabbed your hip and refused to let you roll over completely. Instead he wrapped your leg around his hips. He guided his cock to your entrance, but didn’t push in.

You weren’t sure what he was waiting for. You tried to pull him closer, but it wasn’t enough. There was pressure building and you could feel the heat from him. You needed him inside of you soon.

“Please Billy,” you pleaded, your breath catching on his name.

That must have been what he was waiting for because you barely got his full name out before he was sliding inside of you. His cock stretched you more than his fingers had. You squeezed around his cock as he rocked shallowly. Once he was sure your body was ready, he pulled almost all the way out and then slammed his hips forward. His thrusts were a tease, not nearly enough.

You reached one hand up and ran it over his head, desperate for more from him. He inhaled deeply at your wrist before he leaned in to kiss you. After a few desperate, panting kisses, his thrusts became wilder and more forceful. You could feel as he lost himself to the full throes of his rut. His hips pistoned between your thighs, slamming his cock into you over and over. You scratched over his back and shoulders, desperate to keep him close. Somewhere between the forceful thrusts and his mouth against yours, you felt a second orgasm build low in your stomach. As it crashed over you, Billy let out a growl against your mouth. 

A pleased growl, at that. You could feel his pleasure at making you come again. And now you wanted that pleasure. You clenched around his cock as best as you could, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. His skin was almost feverish under your hands so you knew that he was close. He buried his face into your neck, his mouth biting down on the skin there as his thrusts became erratic. 

You took the moment to inhale his scent. The smell of Billy was mixed with sex and the spice from his rut but it all smelled so good to you. You let out a long moan as you felt his cock spill inside the condom. You felt the twitching as his cock drained and you let your head roll back at the feeling.

He kept his weight from pressing down on you, but he waited to pull out. When he did, you felt empty and couldn’t help as your pussy clenched around nothing. You didn’t have to feel empty long before his fingers were inside of you again.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take,” he said as he pumped his fingers in and out of you lazily, “but I can still feel it as strongly as I did before. It could be a while before my rut is over.”

With as irregular as his ruts had been for the last few years, you imagined it’d last for a while. Most Alphas would get two or three major orgasms and then the rut would pass over them. But if Billy didn’t feel any difference after that orgasm? And your own body still felt like a live wire. 

Although you did wonder how much of that was you mirroring him and how much of it was just that he was probably the best sex you’d ever had.

He pulled his fingers out of you long enough to rid himself of his condom. He grabbed a second one but didn’t have to ask for you to put it on him this time. You took it from him and slid it over his still hard cock. You leaned in and wrapped your mouth around the head of his cock, sucking on it as best you could with the condom on him. The latex taste of the condom wasn’t pleasant, but the warmth of him in your mouth was almost worth it.

You were pulled off of his cock and then rolled over. This time you were on your stomach, but it didn’t feel like how it usually did with Alphas. He didn’t make you present yourself for him. He raised your hips and tucked a pillow under them, but he didn’t force your face into the bed as he slid into you. His hands still moved over your body as he fucked you this time, playing with your nipples and then moving under you to play with your clit. You ached with need as you thrust backwards against him.

It was like he knew when you needed it harder, when you needed more from him. You clenched around his cock as he pounded into you from behind, your whole body shaking as you took everything he had to give. This time your orgasm rocked over you and made you cry out, biting down onto your own wrist to keep from screaming his name. And it was only moments later that you felt his cock pulse inside you once more.

This time he stayed inside you longer, his thighs flexing in an effort to keep from pounding into you again. When he finally pulled out to remove the condom, you rolled over to watch him.

“How are you feeling?”

He looked over his shoulder at you and then away just as quickly.

“Still in my rut,” he said defensively under his breath.

You crawled across the bed and placed your hand on his back. When he didn’t shy away, you moved so that you could drape yourself over his back, your arms going around his chest and holding him.

“I’m not asking because I want this to be over quicker. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Do you need something to drink? Some food? A foot rub?”

From where your chin was propped on his shoulder, you could see the tiniest of smiles on his face. And then it was neutral once more.

“Something to drink would be nice.”

You squeezed his shoulders as you got up. There was a robe hanging near your bedroom door and you tugged that on as you walked into the living room. With two bottles of Gatorade in hand, you went back to the bedroom to see that Billy had gotten situated on the bed with his back against the headboard and his legs partially spread.

His cock was still hard. You licked your lips as you tore your eyes away, but not before you caught his smirk again.

“Come here,” he said with another small thread of compulsion. This time you thought he might have done it on purpose.

You crawled onto the bed and handed him his drink. After both of you drained about half of the bottles, he put them to the side and pulled you into his lap and tugged your robe off. He grabbed another condom and put it on before he settled you over him with one leg on each side. This gave you more leverage as you lowered yourself onto his cock. 

“Just like this,” he said softly into your ear as he thrust up into you. 

You held on to his shoulders as you rode him, meeting his thrusts with your own. This position was intense for a reason beyond just the angle. There was an intimacy to this that you hadn’t experienced the few other times you’d ended up in this position. The intensity in Billy’s eyes as he fucked you made your chest hurt.

What was it about this Alpha that set him so far apart from others? Why were you on pins and needles around him? And why was sleeping with him like nothing you’d ever felt before?

This time you both came at the same time. You gasped at the feeling of clenching around his cock while he spilled inside the condom. His hands were tight on your hips, holding you down against him. As if you’d want to get away.

You slumped on top of him, your body protesting the number of orgasms you’d already wrung out of it. And you could still sense that Billy was in his rut.

You’d have to take a few days after this one before you could become active again. You had a feeling you were going to be sore.

He lifted you off of his cock and went to dispose of the condom again. This time when he got into the bed, he didn’t immediately reach out for you. You leaned onto your side so that you could watch him settle down on his back.

He was starting to come down from his rut, but you didn’t think that would last. This was how it normally was, with time between cycles. There’d be anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour before his body would feel feverish and he’d need to take you again.

“Would you like some time alone?”

Billy rolled over to look at you. He shook his head after a long moment. When you felt his hand brush against you this time, you knew it wasn’t sexual. This was where the companion part came in. Some Alphas wanted to be alone between their rut cycles, but some wanted contact. It seemed Billy was one of the latter.

You moved to lean against his side, your body pressed along his from shoulder to ankle. The closeness would trigger his rut cycle quicker, but it would do good for him as well.

“Just rest,” you told him as you brushed your lips against a scar on his shoulder. 

It was going to be a long night for both of you.

X

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[demivampirew]

Don’t judge a book by its cover chapter 1.

A Cap. Syverson story.

Triggers: Violence; talking about xenophobia, white privilege, homophobia, misogyny; crying; cursing; slang words.

Synopsis: Rebeca is an Argentinian girl who a few months ago moved to the USA (Washington D.C) to study in university thanks to a scholarship that she was granted. She’s lonely. People don’t treat her well. Some could be understood but most of them just hate her for being a foreigner. She meets Syverson because he’s a man from the South and she has not had a good experience with people from there, but she may find out at the end that she shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

She was walking towards the book store. She needed yet another ton of books for English class, even though she bought several of them two weeks ago. She got a scholarship a few months ago, that as long as she maintains high grades, it will allow her to finish her studies on the University of Washington, with the full coverage of the tuition money and a plus for materials. But still, with all those privileges, being in college was expensive. The extra money that the programme gave her scarcely was enough to buy three-quarters of the materials she needed and let's not forget food and other necessary stuff. She got a job at a grocery store, that didn't pay much, but enough to keep her going and the owners were one of the few people that were nice to her and even allowed her to study if there were no clients in the store. On the weekends, she would help primary and high school kids with their Spanish homework. Incredibly, those few hours gave her more money than working all week at the grocery store, but those people weren't so nice to her and it wasn't a steady job as her week job was. She could always find a job as a Spanish tutor, though. Most of her clients were high middle-class families and most of them were Republicans and hated Latinos, but she was a "white Latina, so you were ok." That's something that one of her classmates told her, a Mexican girl - she wasn't at the same University because she also was granted a scholarship, but because her parents saved money since she was little for her to go to a good college-; It hurt, but she knew that it was right. It isn't like her life was a field of roses. Not at all. College was full of rich kids that hated her guts and made her life a living hell. They'd laugh at her if she made the slightest mistake when speaking English and insulted her if she pointed out that they also made mistakes and that it's their native language. They would scream "In this country, we speak English, bitch" and other things if they heard her speak in Spanish with somebody over the phone. Three times she had to change the window glasses from her small apartment because they'll keep throwing rocks at them. But still, she had to admit that she understood why the Latinos at college didn't like her much. If there was some trouble, no one would even look at her. And the only time they let her go out with them, they got stop by police to ask for their identifications but told her that wasn't necessary. Not only she was white, but also she came from Buenos Aires, Argentina and she particularly didn't have a thick accent so immediately catch on the standard American one. After buying the necessary books, she hurried to go to work. Her boss told her she could go buy the books she needed and she could stay late to cover the time that she used to do that. She truly needed a car. At first, she thought that'd be a waste of money because in her city you could use the bus to go anywhere you needed to go. There was always a way to go by public transport, but here it was more difficult and besides, she needed to save time. She rushed to cross the street before the lights turn red, but didn't make it on time and as soon as she took the steps into the street, the light changed and cars began to pass. A car stopped abruptly just as it was about to hit her. - Ma'am, are you insane? - screamed the driver of the car, as he descended to make sure she was fine. She took a few steps back to avoid being in the middle of the street and also because she was afraid of that man. He was tall, with a big back and big muscles. He had a beard and his head was shaved. He was wearing cargo pants and a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt. But his looks were not the thing that scared her, it was the strong southern accent and the authority in his voice. Every time she ran into someone that sounded like him, it turned out to be a misogynistic, homophobic, racist and xenophobic asshole. Some times it would be some of those qualities, but most of the time, they were all together. But in the last second, she had a sudden change of attitude. She decided that would be the day that she won't let an idiot treat her like shit. She stood up like she wasn't afraid of him and looked at him fiercely. - No, I'm not insane. I'm just running late and when I checked the light was still on the green, I didn't see it change, that's all. - she replied - It's very rude for you to scream at me that way after you almost run over me with your car. You must haven't been paying attention to the road ahead or otherwise, you would have seen that I started to cross when it was still green. - Are you blaming me for your stupidity? Do you understand that I could have killed you? - He asked her irritated. She slapped him on the face. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together trying to contain his growing anger. - I'm sorry.- she apologized, but after a second she changed her mind- No, you know what? I'm not. You deserved it. You called me stupid. You don't know me and you called me stupid?! How dare you? I'm fucking tire of people like you! Every single day of my life I have to deal with people insulting me and treating me like shit like I wasn't a human being like I didn't deserve anything that I worked hard for just because I wasn't born in this freaking country. Or maybe you think I'm stupid just because I'm a woman, I had heard that too. Every single fucking insult that your brain can come out with, I'm pretty sure I heart it daily. So, if you excuse me, I would like to continue my way before I lose my job that I really need. - she said and run away, wiping the tears that started to come from her face. She ran for a while, crying desperately. People on the streets stared at her, probably thinking that she was mugged or something like that. Two blocks away from her job, she stopped to give herself time to breathe and clean all the tears left on her face. It was hard to cover that she had been crying but decided to share with the store owner just the part that she got scared because she was almost hit by a car on her way there and that she cries due to the scary episode. Thankfully, that explanation was good enough for her and did not ask more questions. As soon as she ended her shift, she went straight to her apartment. She was about to open the door when a man outside called her name and she turned around scared. It was the man from earlier that day, the man than almost hit her with his car. - What are you doing here? How do you know where I live? How do you know my name?- She questioned, confused and terrified as the man was getting closer to her. - Stop there! I'm going to call the police! This is harassment! - she screamed scared. The man raised both hands to leave them to her sight and stopped walking towards her. - I'm Captain Syverson. I'm a military man, ma'am. I'm not here to hurt you or do anything to you other than to apologize for the way I treated you today. I would like to return this to you as well, you lost it when you left the place.- he said, reaching his pocket and getting your credit card. -That's how I knew where you live. As I said, I work in the military, so I asked a friend of mine to get me your address, I hope that's ok with you. But I truly wanted to reach you and let you know that was not my intention to mistreat you today. You'll see, I'd been in the war zone for way too long so I lost my touch on how to react delicately to certain situations. You're not one of the soldiers on my command, you're just a lady crossing the street that got yelled by a southern asshole, as I believed you called me.-he said smirking. -I won't steal any more of your time. It's late and I'm pretty sure you want to rest, so have yourself a good night. - he said and turned around. She thanked him for returning the card and he replied "no problem". The next morning she got up early to make it on time to get to the class. She had an important exam to took that day, so she did not want to be late. As soon as she crossed the door and closed it, a young man scream "good morning" into her ear, scaring her. It was Trevor. One of her classmates. One of the leaders of those popular fraternities that's always making parties and playing sports and fucking instead of studying. - What do you want? - she asked annoyed. - Becky, Becky, Becky...-he said playing with her hair and she grabbed it so he would stop.- Is it weird that a Latina has a name like Rebeca? - Isn't weird that you have a brain a never use it? - she replied, annoyed. He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the wall. - Careful, bitch. I could fuck you up if I want to.- he threatened her - Yes, I know. I then you'll call your daddy to clean the mess that you left behind, like you do every time, right?- she defied him and he got angrier and closed his hand into a fist and was about to punch her. She wanted to be brave but could help herself and closed her eyes, afraid waiting for the punch. It never came. Instead, she heard screams. Some came from Trevor, others came from another man with a deeper voice. Trevor's were from pain, the man's were insults and threats. Rebeca finally opened her eyes and saw Syverson beating the shit out of Trevor. She ran to stop him. He was a military man. Trevor was just a stupid frat boy; he could cause some serious injuries and might cost him his military range or something. It took some time, but she finally conquered her goal of making him stop beating Trevor. You had to call the police and an ambulance, the was no other choice. Great. If your neighbours did not like you much before, now probably hated you. Not only you were the cause of a major fight at 7 am but you also got the street with police cars and ambulance, blocking the cars from getting out so they could get to their jobs. - You shouldn't have done that - Rebeca told Syverson as they waited on the police station to give their testaments - Should I have let him hit you instead? - he asked her surprised and annoyed. Like there was no other thing to do but what he did. - Why were you there anyway? - she questioned confused - I wanted to talk to you. - You've already apologized - she reminded him - It's not about that. I wanted to know what did you meant when you said: "I'm fucking tire of people like you"? Who are the "people like me"? - Southern people - she replied - Do you hate southerners? - he questioned, surprised and amused. - I don't know. I mean, I'm yet to find a good one. Maybe you could be that one, although you have to admit that you are not giving the best impression - she answered, raising an eyebrow and he laughed. - Yes, I guess you're right. My bad. - Every time I run into someone from the South, they treat me like I was below them just because I'm not from this country. When I moved here, there was this old southern man in the same street where I live. He used to look at my ass and use degrading slangs. He was disgusting. His wife hated me. They were extremely religious and when they found out that I was bisexual and atheist, they actually had a church meeting outside my house, praying for "the devil" to leave the place. A few weeks later, the man died of cancer and the woman was put onto a care home by his son. I think no one bothered me anymore after that because they still believe that I'm actually the devil - she said rolling her eyes and Syverson laughed out loud. - Hush. You're here to be questioned about giving a guy the beating of his life, you should be laughing. - You're right. Well. I understand your point, but I should tell you, just because you were given a few bad apples by the store, doesn't mean that said store doesn't have some good in them. - What? - What I'm trying to say is that because you met a few of my people that were pretty shitty, doesn't mean that we are all that way.- he explained to her - Look, I did not only joined the military to serve my country, but I also did it to help people. When I was out there, in the war zone, I protected as many innocent people as I could, mine or not. I made a few friends work with locals there. People are people. Period. I don't care if you were born here or not, as long as you are a good citizen and behave good, that's fine by me, stay all you want. Also, I couldn't care less what people do with their lives. If a man wants to be with a man, it's his fucking business. And about religion, I'm believer, but I won't judge you if you don't, I'm sure you must have your reasons. - he said and smiled at her. She was so focused on her judgment that she didn't allow herself to really see how attractive he was, especially now that he was close and she could see his deep blue eyes.

They both went separately to give their statements about the incident. Some neighbours were also brought by the police to testify as witnesses. Luckily, the woman who lived across the street saw the whole thing and her testimony matched Rebeca's and the police marked it as an act of self- defence and she and Syverson were free to go. They took a taxi to the house so he could pick up his car. She called her workplace and told the whole story from the police station because she wasn't sure how much time she would be stuck there for questioning and her boss gave her the day. As soon as they made it to her place, with neighbours spying on them, she invited him for coffee and he accepted.

[chaoswillfallrpg]

RITA SKEETER is TWENTY-SEVEN and is a COLUMNIST in SOCIETY AND SCANDALS at THE DAILY PROPHET. She looks remarkably like CHLOE BRIDGES and considers herself NEUTRAL. She is currently OPEN. 

→ OVERVIEW:

The birth of Rita Skeeter, was an event her parents wished to go down in history and raised their daughter in every attempt to make this happen. ADRIAN SKEETER was a respected member of the Ministry of Magic and was the head of the Public Information Services. Rita’s mother, CAROLYN, was a Muggle-Born witch who had managed to obtain an internship at Witch Weekly after Hogwarts and this is how her parents had met, Adrian whispering sweet secrets into Carolyn’s ears and Carolyn using them to boost her journalistic career. When Rita was born, Carolyn resigned from Witch Weekly and became a freelance journalist, raising Rita in a privileged household and exposing her to luxuries many would kill for. Her parents often hosted galas and classy dinner parties with multiple influential people which forced Rita to mature faster than other children her age since she had always been surrounded by older company. Inquisitive and persistent, Rita never stopped searching for answers to a question until she had them. She always preferred to find them on her own and form her own opinions instead of simply asking her parents or one of the many house-elves, regardless if her conclusion was correct or not. Her parents were fond of this and were more proud of themselves for raising Rita to be a leader and not a follower instead of being proud of her for taking initiative. 

With her father constantly at work or away on business trips, and her mother consumed by her small social circle of gossips and day drinking, Rita’s childhood soon became quite lonely. She spent most days by herself, exploring her mother’s personal library of articles or lying on her father’s study floor, hosting tea parties with any house-elf she could convince to join her. The only time she spent in her parents company was during dinner or at one of their many parties. However, Rita learnt that if she hovered in the shadows while her parents chatted away, she’d learn about many secrets and rumours, which she then later scribbled down in her journal, pretending to be a famous author writing her next book, ‘Twisted Truths and False Facts’. Her parents began to compensate for time lost with her and showered her with expensive items and non-sentimental objects. Rita had read that the key to success and fame wasn’t purely talent, but taste. Thus, she demanded for only the best. By the time Rita had received her letter to Hogwarts she had already read biographies or articles of most of the professors and had researched as much as she could about the school. She saw Hogwarts as an opportunity to finally practise her journalism skills on stories that hadn’t slipped from her parents mouths and began to dream of all the tasteful friends she’d meet. 

Rita had been sorted into Ravenclaw instantly, which she was most pleased with as she believed that the blue matched her eyes quite well. Without hesitation, she began to sort through her fellow Ravenclaw students, unafraid of hurting feelings or causing disgruntlement as she searched for friends she deemed tasteful. On the top of the list was CAMILLE ROWLE whom she shared a dorm with. The girls first spoke about their common interests such as designer brands and their favourite holiday memories but soon they began to bond over their mutual dislike of certain students. Another friend from Ravenclaw was DAISY HOOKUM. The two would share the latest issues of their favourite magazines and end study sessions with a juicy gossip session. It wasn’t until BETTY BRAITHWAITE joined their circle that the four girls decided to create their own Hogwarts School paper. With Dumbledor’s approval, the group formed the Weekly Raven which published a variety of articles focusing on school political issues, sports coverage, a gossip column and a fashion section. Through the Weekly Raven, Rita met many other students through the years including CHARITY BURBAGE, XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD, EDWARD TONKS and ROMEO DAVIS. 

Rita took the Weekly Raven very seriously and ran the weekly gossip column as she had developed quite the habit of uncovering other’s dirty laundry and leaving it to dry for everyone to see. This, of course, did not sit well with everyone and Rita gained a negative reputation with many. Rita was unphased by this, after all, lions don’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep. Rita worked very hard to produce quality work and stopped at nothing other than perfection. It was only when Camille shared the secret that she overheard the best gossip when she was an unsuspecting animal that Rita had decided to train to become an Animagus. By her seventh year, she was able to transform into a beetle and with this, was able to listen into many more conversations. Rita had also learnt that another method of gaining confidential information was seduction. Throughout her school years, Rita had made many romantic connections for the fun of it or for whatever story she was following at the time. She experimented freely, flirting with whomever she found attractive. She had never really felt the need to identify her sexuality but she felt most comfortable with using the label Pansexual. Rita wasn’t one for real relationships and her career would always come first, her studies and running the student paper. 

Rita passed her final exams with flying colours and thanks to her continuous summer internships at Witch Weekly, which were thanks to her mother’s connections, she managed to land an internship at The Daily Prophet as a reporter and journalist. Adapting her mother’s approach to life, she would sneak into her father’s study and sort through his ministry files, taking down dates and facts, including those that weren’t meant for the public just yet. She always made sure to use them only as leads, never putting her father’s career at risk. Many of these facts included reports of muggle murders and rumours of a dark wizard on the rise. However, it wasn’t long until Rita wasn’t the only one who was working her way around the ministry and uncovering gossip and secrets. REGINA ROWLE, cousin to Camille was quite the gossip herself and often made Rita’s life hard by spreading gossip around the ministry before Rita could publish it. Other contacts included GABRIEL DUMONT, an attractive french man who now worked as an Auror. Rita often worked her charm on him to help loosen his lips. AMOS DIGGORY, ANDROMEDA BLACK and MOLLY PREWETT were others that Rita came in a lot of contact with. However, these three were a lot less tolerant of Rita and mostly told her to get lost or called security to escort her from the premise.

Rita had a few personal projects up her sleeve, including a book called “Albus Dumbledore - Master or Moron” in which she criticised Professor Dumbledore for his past with Grindelwald and his methods of teaching at Hogwarts. Her other personal project was Betty Braithewaite. Rita had grown very fond of the girl over the years and now a small crush had formed. The two women worked together at the Daily Prophet and Rita had become inspired by her work. She found the way Betty held herself, confident and independent, very attractive and had started thinking of romantic ways to spend time with Betty. Nothing serious had come from it just yet, just some playful banter from both sides but Rita had high hopes for them. Her third and final project was an investigative one. After hearing many rumours throughout school and from friends of friends, a name that seemed synonymous with The Dark Lord was BELLATRIX BLACK. What Rita didn’t know was why the Black daughter was being mentioned and what she had to do with all of this? Was she somehow involved in the war? Was Bellatrix a Death Eater? How long had she been working with the Dark Lord? These were all questions Rita did not have answers to, but for the sake of the Wizarding World, and a good story of course, Rita had decided to stop at nothing until she had some concrete evidence and a clearer idea of who Bellatrix Black was exactly. 

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Half-Blood

Pronouns → She/Her

Identification → Cis Female 

Relationship Status → Single

Sexual Orientation → Pansexual

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Ravenclaw)

Societies → TBD

Family → Adrian Skeeter (father) and Carolyn Skeeter (mother)

Connections  → Camille Rowle (best friend), Daisy Hookum (close friend), Betty Braithwaite (close friend/love interest), Charity Burbage (colleague), Xenophilius Lovegood (friend), Edward Tonks (friend/colleague), Romeo Davis (friend/colleague), Saoirse MacMillan (adversary), Regina Rowle (adversary), Peter Pettigrew (romantic liaison), Gabriel Dumont (romantic liaison)

Future Information → Court Reporter at The Death Eater Trials, Renown Published Author of Multiple Titles including Biographies of Albus Dumbledore, Newt Scamander, Severus Snape and Harry Potter

RITA SKEETER IS A LEVEL 5 WITCH.