#this is all above my pay grade now so to a professional it goes

[secundus-cinaedus]

bringing in the pc to the shop tonight lads 🫡

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Y’all ate this Hotch x BAU!reader imagine up 👀 Who am I to deny you more when asked so nicely? 🖤

Things remain strictly professional while the case is ongoing, your team and the Seattle division’s sole focus on catching the unsub. But once your resident bad guy gets his one way ticket to a life sentence, Aaron’s former colleague insists on celebrating over drinks…

“I can’t believe you completed the triathlon!” Agent Brandt exclaims with a laugh, her hand coming to rest on Aaron’s arm. From her spot in the booth opposite to you, JJ nudges your leg under the table. Your gaze cuts to hers, and you resist the urge to mime gagging yourself on your straw. Instead, you use it to suck up the last of your second mojito. There are a few appreciative titters around the table and Brandt soldiers on, “Who would’ve thought our nerdy prosecutor turned agent would do something so athletic?”

“Make no mistake, the nerd is still hiding underneath these muscles,” you chime in with a coy smile, the mix of jealousy and rum swimming in your veins giving you the push to overtly squeeze your husband’s bicep for good measure.

Aaron pointedly clears his throat and directs a frown towards Emily whose cellphone camera has made an appearance just over the lip of the table to no doubt document the scene unfolding for Penelope’s benefit. “All the credit goes to my partner here,” he says rather smoothly before draping his arm across your shoulders.

“Oh wow,” Brandt says through a tight-lipped smile, “you did it, too?”

“Sure did,” you respond cheerily while using your straw to swirl the mint leaves around the bottom of your empty glass. Aaron can hear the mischief building in your tone and he pinches your side half-heartedly in warning, but you quietly smack his hand away and continue, “Gotta stay in shape to fight off all the soccer moms vying for this guy’s attention at Jack’s games.” You allow yourself to relish in the flash of recognition in Brandt’s eyes before she slowly retracts her hand from your husband’s arm.

“Goodness,” she laughs and has the grace to blush at her earlier conduct. You feel a twinge of guilt until Aaron’s former colleague looks at him and says, “I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend.”

Derek covers up his laugh with a cough, and Emily mouths a delighted uh oh. Aaron turns to you with a silent plea in his eyes to let the comment go, but your lips are already twisting into a, “Me neither, babe.”

“She’s just teasing,” your husband is quick to soothe all parties’ ruffled feathers as his colleague’s blush grows a shade darker and she studiously avoids making eye contact with you. “We’ve been married for a few years now.”

“And what a wonderful few years it’s been seeing the two of you grow together,” the eldest member of your team adds with a sense of finality. You flash a grateful smile at Dave, and the conversation takes on a more lighthearted tone over the next and final round of drinks.

—————

On the jet back home the next day…

Your novel tumbling out of your hands and onto the floor of the jet has you jolting awake, and Aaron shoots upright in his seat across from you. A quick glance around reveals the rest of the team suspiciously engrossed in their respective activities- Derek’s listening to his post-case playlist, Spencer’s reading yet another book that’s above your pay grade, Emily and Dave are sharing sections of the New York Times, and JJ’s on her phone, likely texting Will- but the fact that no one so much as bats an eye at the startling noise tells you everything you need to know. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand why you and your husband just can’t seem to stay awake on the early morning flight.

In answer to their unspoken question, you offer, “Didn’t sleep well last night,” by way of an explanation, fighting the blush threatening to creep across your guilty cheeks.

With a click of his teeth, Derek laughs out, “My man,” and Emily pipes up, “We’ll chalk it up to a hangover.”

“Behave, all of you,” Aaron counsels in an utterly non-threatening monotone, his voice still thick with sleep. He doesn’t even bother to open his eyes to scold them, just crosses his hands over his chest and settles back in his seat to get some much needed rest. The corner of his mouth ticks upward for the briefest of moments before his features fall back into their emotionless state.

You tap his ankle with your foot and one eye cracks open to find you smirking at him. “I saw that.”

“Get some sleep, Agent Y/L/N,” he orders in lieu of addressing being caught.

Tugging Aaron’s suit jacket higher up on your body, you dutifully close your eyes and hunker down under your makeshift blanket. Already drifting back off to sleep, you murmur, “That’s Agent Hotchner to you, mister.”

Aaron’s answering smile could rival the sun itself.

—————

[A/N: Idk if I like this 🙃 But then again, I go through these mental gymnastics every time I post my writing on here]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Podcasting "Self Publishing"

This week on my podcast, I read my latest Medium column, “Self-Publishing,” an essay about the structural shifts in the publishing industry over the past half-century and how and why that has driven people to try self-publishing.

https://doctorow.medium.com/self-publishing-41800468bcfe

The tale starts with the rise of Big Box stores, after Reagan’s deregulation got Sam Walton to take Walmart national. This concentrated the “mass market” — the huge, variegated world of pharmacy and grocery and cornerstore spinner racks that were the cradle of genre fiction.

The big boxes demanded a single national distribution system, and hundreds of local distributors — whose unionized Teamsters stocked the spinner racks based on long territorial experience — collapsed to a handful of database-driven decision-makers.

The number of titles for sale fell off a cliff. Writers who had a single underperforming book were no longer welcome in the big boxes and thus no longer economically viable (remember all those established writers who switched to pen-names? They were trying to beat this).

Monopoly begets monopoly. The predatory discounting of the big box stores put the squeeze on chain bookstores and indies. The chains merged and merged into a duopoly, while the indies underwent a mass die-off.

Publishers were caught in this squeeze: the two national bookstore chains and the big box stores demanded extra co-op payments, preferential discounts, and more generous credit and return policies. The publishers merged and merged, down to six (now four).

This also happened with trade distributors (who sold to bookstores, not the mass market) — the industry collapsed into a duopoly (today, it’s a monopoly, run by Ingram).

This is a familiar pattern across all monopolized industries.

As David Dayen described in MONOPOLIZED, this neatly parallels the monopolization of health care: pharma monopolized and gouged hospitals, who monopolized in self-defense and gouged insurers, who monopolized in self-defense.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/29/fractal-bullshit/#dayenu

Both monopolistic trends had the same end-point: after all the companies had finished monopolizing, the disorganized group of suppliers and workers were the only ones that the monopolies could strong-arm. In the case of hospitals, that’s health-workers and patients.

In publishing, it’s workers and writers. If you work in publishing and your resume is rejected by four companies, it has been rejected by every major publisher. If you’re a writer whose book is rejected by four publishers, then you’ve been rejected by every major house.

That’s why writers are now expected to give up graphic novel, audio, world English, and other valuable rights for the same advances — with fewer companies bidding on books, the likelihood that one will pay more or demand less goes down.

In the 2000s and early 2010s, some writers hoped that they’d be able to sidestep publishing by allying themselves with a different monopolized industry, locking themselves to Amazon’s platform. But as competition from publishers dwindled, so too did Amazon’s largesse.

The authors who shackled themselves to Amazon now face tens of millions of dollars in wage-theft. The solution to unfair treatment at the hands of giants isn’t to ally yourself with an even bigger giant and hope for its ongoing generosity.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/03/somebody-will/#acx

A more promising sign is in the wave of mid-sized houses that have snapped up the workers shed by Big Publishing during mergers as well as the promising new publishing workers who are surplus to the Big Four’s needs.

These presses punch way above their weight, thanks in part to the number of great books that just don’t fit into the publishing needs of four giant houses. But as great as this is, it’s intrinsically precarious.

These mid-sized houses can’t stand up to the might of one distributor, one national bookseller, four big box stores, and one giant ecommerce monopoly. Earlier mass die-offs in indie publishing (like the American Marketing Services horror story) show how fragile this is.

Which brings us to self-publishing. There have never been more sophisticated tools for making polished, professional books on your own — Lulu.com, Smashwords, Bookbaby — and (thanks to layoffs) it’s never been easier to find publishing pros to help with that process.

But that’s not “publishing.” As Patrick Nielsen Hayden once told me (paraphrasing), “Publishing is identifying a work and an audience and doing whatever it takes bring the two together.” In other words, how do you convince people to give a shit about your book?

This is an incredibly hard problem. It’s the hard problem of advertising, religion and politics. There’s no established method for it because the attention wars are a race against adaptation — what worked yesterday won’t work today.

https://locusmag.com/2018/01/cory-doctorow-persuasion-adaptation-and-the-arms-race-for-your-attention/

If you want to self-publish, you need to observe books like yours, identify how they are discovered by their audiences, formulate a plan to do the same, execute the plan, measure your results, and change the plan and do it again, and again, and again.

Publishers don’t just have systems and experts — they also have multiple data-points, a stream of books where they get to try different things, refine their successful tactics, and try again. You have a data-set with one point in it: you.

It follows that if you’re not prepared to work as hard (and well) at marketing, sales and promotion as you did at writing, you probably shouldn’t self-publish. Doing those things won’t guarantee your success, but without them, failure is all but assured.

That said, the one area where self-publishers can sometimes outdo publishers is accessing (parts of) the mass-market. The vast majority people aren’t “readers” (in the sense of being people who regularly buy books, go to bookstores, etc).

Every mega-bestseller is just a book that succeeded with a tiny sliver of nonreaders. And you might know more about a community of nonreaders — a faith group, fandom, subculture or political movement — than anyone in publishing.

If that’s the case, and if you are both diligent and lucky, you might be able to successfully market you book to that group and even leverage that success into a publishing deal that brings your book to “readers” — whom a publisher knows more about than you ever will.

I published by first book in 2000. Since then, I’ve published a couple dozen more, everything from novels for adults to YA novels to a middle-grades graphic novel to a picture book to essay and short story collections to book-length nonfiction.

I’ve published many books, including multiple bestsellers, with one of the Big Four publishers, and I’ve also published with several mid-sized boutique presses (some of which have merged with bigger publishers since).

I’ve successfully self-published, including a $267,000, record-smashing Kickstarter campaign. I’m a recovering bookseller and I’m unhealthily drawn to great bookstores, which are doing surprisingly well (thanks partly to Libro.fm and Bookshop.org).

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/attack-surface-audiobook-for-the-third-little-brother-book

Despite all this, I’m keenly aware that runaway consolidation makes my position as a worker in this system intrinsically precarious. The wonderful people in big publishing love books and treat me very well, but they can’t fix the system.

I’ve met sincere, talented people at Amazon doing their best to support publishing, but they can’t fix the system either. Neither can James Daunt, a true hero of bookselling who has come to America to transform Barnes and Noble.

Monopoly begets monopoly. If any part of the supply chain is allowed to monopolize, the rest will follow in self-defense, and it will always be the workers — the writers and staff — who struggle to push back.

That’s why the current resurgence of both trade-unionism and antitrust are so important. In a world whose outcomes are more determined by power relationship than by good intentions, the only way to secure workers’ futures is to make them stronger and make business weaker.

The essay is here:

https://doctorow.medium.com/self-publishing-41800468bcfe

The podcast episode is here:

https://craphound.com/news/2021/07/05/self-publishing/

The MP3 is here (hosting courtesy of the Internet Archive, they’ll host your stuff for free, forever):

https://archive.org/download/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_396/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_396_-_Self_Publishing.mp3

And here’s my podcast feed:

http://feeds.feedburner.com/doctorow_podcast

[officialthiamlibrary]

what you guys think are the best smut fics where theo tops?

Here are some of our absolute favorites! We have a second ask about this, so please check out those fics as well!

static hearts by xTarmanderx (Mature | WIP | 4.2K) Tags: Praise Kink, Smut, Choking, Blow Jobs, Light BDSM Summary: Theo just wants to sleep in, which seems impossible with Liam getting himself off in the next room. With limited options, Theo decides to go tell Liam to keep it down. He doesn’t expect what happens next. A Peek Inside: He growls softly against his pillow as Liam whines, the sound high and needy. He shouldn’t have to listen to this. It feels like torture and he knows Liam doesn’t mean for that to be the case. The thing is, Theo wants to be the one drawing those noises out of Liam. They’ve been playing this game of cat and mouse for months, always dancing back just as they start to get close. It’s maddening and heartbreaking and Theo wants in a way he’s never felt before.

Mr. Raeken by ImnotdyingforyouThiam (Explicit | Complete | 26K) Tags: Boss/Employee Relationship, Suit Kink, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Age Difference Summary: Liam has had a long-term crush on his boss, Theo Raeken. He was able to keep it under wraps until a dirty typo led to something much above his pay-grade. A Peek Inside: Some days I think Mr Raeken does it on purpose, winking at me every time another woman limps out of his office, grinning from ear to ear, and then has the audacity to say, "Liam, get me a coffee," like he hasn't just spent the past hour in some pretty compromising positions IN HIS OFFICE, AT WORK. Mr Raeken must know I have a thing for him, dropping things off his desk just so he can stare at my ass while I slowly pick them up, arching my back to give him more of a view - I'm a slut, we've already established this.

Tie Me Up by parttimehuman (Explicit | Complete | 9.2K) Tags: Smut, Light Bondage, Dom/Sub Play, Sir, Rules and Punishment, Soft Ending Summary: Liam has a trauma from being chained up against trees during his first months as a werewolf. Out of pure selflessness, Theo offters to help replacing the bad memories with good ones. A Peek Inside: Liam swallows. Sure, Theo has been flirting with him quite aggressively for months now, but it's not like he's ever pronounced his wishes so explicitly. Suddenly, Liam has a feeling that Theo's idea could actually work. He's looking at the tie hanging from Theo's neck loosely and his mind starts going places that make him a little hard. “You want to fuck me?” he asks. He wants to hear more. “Could you elaborate on that a little?” Liam can hear the stutter in Theo's heartbeat as he closes the distance between them. “Just so I get a better idea of what we're talking about,” he adds sweetly.

i’m calling out to breathe you in by snaeken (Explicit | Complete | 4K) Tags: Porn With Plot, AU - Rock Band, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Choking Summary: Liam and Theo are professional musicians. Theo comforts Liam after a bad performance. A Peek Inside: It’s not too long before Liam reaches that space between consciousness and sleeping. The warm puffs of Theo’s breath hit his ear and his hair, rhythmic and calming. His closed eyelids are heavy and he knows he could fall asleep at any moment, but he doesn’t really have it in him to stop it from happening. Then Theo snakes a hand up his chest and brushes a thumb against one of his nipples.

Our Longshots Paid Off by Auddieliz09 (Explicit | Complete | 12K) Tags: Accidental Voyeurism, Semi-Public Sex, Audible Porn, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex Summary: Theo is enjoying a quiet evening on his balcony when he overhears his downstairs neighbor make sounds Theo's sure he isn't meant to hear. A Peek Inside: But now he can hear the distinct sound of a slicked up hand slipping rhythmically over a hard cock and his own stiffens in his sweats ready to receive the same treatment. He can hear his neighbor’s breathing get heavier. Theo is frozen, his book and evening plans forgotten, torn between escaping and listening to the guy finish. He knows it’s none of his business and that he absolutely should not be turned on, but he is turned on and the guy did decide to do his business out in the open.

Fake You Out by chuwuyas (Explicit | Complete | 4.4K) Tags: Fake Relationship, Funny, Theo’s a sarcastic bitch, they have sex on Theo’s truck Summary: "Theo, I need your help." Theo groaned bored. "What?" "I'm going to a dinner with my parents tonight... And I need you to be my fake boyfriend." Or In which Liam Dunbar goes to a gala dinner with his homophobic parents and he decides that it would be a good idea to use Theo Raeken to annoy them. A Peek Inside: "What?" Theo asked curiously as Liam stared at him, gaping at him from top to bottom, clearly surprised at how beautiful Theodore Raeken was wearing social attire. "I exaggerated? I can take off the suit if that is too formal." "No! No, no. That's not it." Liam hurried to say, taking the bouquet from Theo's hands as he tried to find words to express himself. "I just... Wow, you look pretty good."

Yours by CandidaMayT (Explicit | Complete } 9.2K) Tags: Smut, Praise Kink, Claiming Bites, Light Choking Summary: Theo calls Liam out on his odd behaviour, and the answer he gets is not what he was expecting. A Peek Inside: It’s a subtle change. Most people would never notice it. Liam lets Theo take food first at the dinner table. If anyone asked he would tell them it’s because he knows how long Theo went not knowing when he would eat next, so he does it so Theo will know he won’t go hungry. He lets Theo use the shower first. After all, Theo works full time, he deserves to have hot water for his shower, and Liam always runs the hot water tank dry. When they watch movies together he always tells Theo to pick what he wants. There are a thousand movies the older boy has never seen, and Liam wants him to be able to watch them now. Little details that most people would overlook. And Liam is sure that no one knows. Until Theo calls him out.

All mine by sofiaaaaa (Explicit | Complete | 8.5K) Tags: Established Relationship, PWP, Riding, Choking, Morning Sex Summary: "I missed you so much," Liam says against his neck and Theo tightens his arms around him. "I missed you, too, baby," Theo murmurs softly and cups the back of Liam's head, threading his fingers through his hair. A Peek Inside: "And what exactly were you thinking about?" Liam's face flushes even more and fuck if Theo didn't miss how pretty he looks when he gets all flustered. He leans in and brushes his lips against Liam's cheeks, relishing how warm the heated skin feels against his tongue. "Tell me," he demands as he pulls away and Liam lets out a shaky breath, his pupils dilating. "I was thinking about you kissing me, your lips on mine before you'd start going lower," he says hesitantly, "kissing and licking all the right spots on my neck to drive me crazy. Then biting... hard until I start to moan." He slightly tilts his head to the side and Theo is more than happy to accept the invitation.

The Scent of You by NekoAliceYamiYaoi (Mature | Complete | 7.5K) Tags: it started just with Liam stealing Theo’s clothes because he liked the chimera’s scent, Smut, Scent Kink Summary: It all started one day Liam had slept through his alarm and was running late for school. He accidentally grabbed Theo's hoodie and found himself wanting to be surrounded by the chimera's scent all the time that he started to steal his clothes without Theo's knowledge. But he wasn't counting on Malia. A Peek Inside: Mason shrugs and continued writing on his notebook. But now Liam couldn't stop wondering that, indeed, this wasn't his hoodie. It was a little bigger than what he usually wears and also it had another scent coming from it. Making sure no one is looking his way, Liam carefully brings the sleeve up to his nose and inhales, the warm and musky scent filling all his senses and now he recognizes that scent. Theo's scent.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Souls of Mischief || Morgan & Caoimhe

TIMING: the recent past

LOCATION: UMWC

PARTIES: @evebrennan & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Two adjuncts square up against the new dean. Is it really a UMWC faculty meeting if everything goes according to plan?

CONTAINS: N/A

Since the dean of the arts and sciences college had gotten his face eaten and the volmugger dean who unofficially replaced him had been sliced and diced, the faculty meeting had to be postponed until summer. With all the deaths and disappearances from the last year, the faculty was able to squeeze comfortably into one of the small lecture halls from the early days of the school, pre AC. They were twenty minutes in and Morgan’s nose was starting to pick up the sour smell of human sweat filling the room. As she slumped deeper into her chair, she found herself thinking that maybe the volmugger dean hadn’t been so bad after all. At least his meeting probably would have been over by now.

She turned to the woman next to her. “Do you ever wish for a fire scare or a cryptid attack during these, or is that just a me thing?”

Humans were captivating for their creativity, and Caoimhe had never encountered anything as terribly uncreative as a routine meeting. Death by powerpoints, a man droning on about grading rubrics and research coming out of New York City. Somewhere in there was a hopeful message about Summer classes and plans for the Fall, but the man’s tone never changed. She felt liable to crawl out of her own skin should it go on for much longer, shifting restlessly in her seat. Typically, in a room so full, there would always be someone to whom Caoimhe was drawn. It was true, meetings sucked the creativity out of everything.

She was halfway through a list of ways she could get out of it, varying from a simple bathroom excuse to complete university meltdown, when a voice piped up from beside her. Ah, better. “Only every meeting. We could make it happen. Any of the above. I prefer bothering them with increasingly outrageous questions until they give up and let us go, personally.” She wondered how long it would take to get him going. If she could get him to give up before the PowerPoint was done. “Ten bucks says if we team up, we could be out of here before he can bring up the next slide.”

Morgan quirked her eyes with interest. Generally, the most she got out of someone was a little indulgent smile (so funny, Morgan; you and your little quips) or a grimace of agreement, because solidarity was the only thing that made these meetings bearable. No one really talked back, much less turned around and offered something back. Morgan scooted closer to the woman.

“Are you serious? Because I can’t tell if you’re serious, and if you’re not serious, I’m going to be really embarrassed when I ask that guy to explain why he chose the font he did for this thrilling presentation and no one jumps in to one up me.” She sat up a little straighter, tilting her head in a show of false interest at the presentation. “If we do make this work, we should give ourselves something nice. As a treat, you know?”

Oh, there was hope for the meeting yet. Caoimhe sat up, finding a grin that didn’t match the less-than-lively meeting topic in the least. She showed more interest in a matter of moments than she had for the entirety of the meeting up to that point, and she couldn’t even be bothered to care. It was so rare that anyone was willing to play along. Most meetings were spent tapping her toes against carpet, or filling quickly sketched staff lines in the margins of her notes. Some part of her felt she should pay attention, given she was new and working on a good first impression, but the meeting was unbearably boring, and there was someone present who was perfectly willing to cause some trouble.

“I don’t joke around when it comes to...joking around.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head around a laugh, turning back to the front. Displayed was a slide reading “2021 Changes,” and she was certain they’d been covering changes for at least thirty minutes. Freedom was imminent. “My vote is ice cream.”

Her vote was anything that wasn’t another staff meeting. She raised her hand, “Excuse me, sorry. I just couldn’t help but notice you’re using the Geometric theme by Slides. It’s an excellent choice, very clean. May I ask why Geometric instead of, say, Plum, or Spearmint?”

It took the New Dean several seconds to realize someone else was talking. He blinked behind his tortoiseshell glasses at Caoimhe, then at his presentation, then back again. “This...was recommended to me by my assistant.” He laughed affably. “And if you’ll observe, as we move on to the next section of the faculty code of conduct, the hexagons make for a very convenient grouping of text, so you can differentiate between the point and the rationale…”  He fumbled with his clicker and brought the next slide up.

“Oh, actually, I have a question about that formatting!” Morgan called. “The color contrast you picked is interesting, but I was wondering why you deviated from black and white. And why the font? It’s not so great for those of us in the back or with visual impairments. Which, I dunno, considering our disciplines is probably a lot of us, right?”

A few women sitting nearby sniggered.

“Obviously I can’t speak for anyone else, but everything you’re saying reads like gibberish to me. And I feel like my professional enrichment is being underserved.”

Ah, the next slide. Caoimhe was only allowed a moment of defeat before her partner in crime piped up, and the Dean’s initial laughter faded into a look of disbelief. The energy in the room changed. People were shifting in their chairs, interest piqued. Caoimhe could see a few burying their heads in the crook of their elbow, or covering their laughter with a hand over their mouths. She had a feeling she was going to like UMWC. Not if every meeting derailed so easily, not if she’d always have someone so perfectly willing to try.

“Oh, my deepest apologies.” There was a pause, then, while the Dean twisted the clicker in his hands and considered his next course of action. Caoimhe could see the red creeping into his cheeks, and she might’ve felt bad for him, if she wasn’t enjoying herself so much.

“There’s actually a site to help with contrast, as well as outlines of the best fonts to use in presentations. For example, Garamond fonts look very professional, yet are still easy to read.” Caoimhe grinned,  “I can send an email, even carbon copy your assistant, if you’d like.”

Morgan turned to Caoimhe as if noticing her for the first time. “Oh, my gosh! Could you? That sounds so amazing and helpful. Barbara--” She waved down a woman two rows up. “You had a student who was color-blind and dyslexic last semester, right? Did you ever figure out what the best format and coloring was for him?”

“No, that was me!” Another woman, Stephanie Shannon, called. Stephanie liked to be an authority on things. It made it easier to correct everyone else. And so, when Morgan happened to call the wrong woman, of course she had to be corrected. Stephanie launched into a long anecdote about her student and the research she did, and which websites were not at all helpful, and so on.

The New Dean tapped his microphone. “If we could turn back to business--”

“I believe Doctor Shannon is still speaking,” Morgan said, unable to hide the glee in her voice.

“Thank you, Professor Beck,” Stephanie said, genuinely touched.

Morgan leaned back in her seat and turned to Caoimhe. “So, the real question is whether we want to see if his face is going to get any redder or if we want to pretend to go to the ladies’ room and never come back.”

Chaos ensued and Caoimhe barely managed to conceal a smile behind her hand. The careful structure of the meeting falling to pieces around them was almost enough to make her stay, but it was still a meeting, and she was willing to bet Doctor Shannon had about as much to say as the Dean did. The deed was done. If she stayed in her spot another moment longer, her laughter would give her away.

A quick excuse and she was tumbling into the hallway, the sound of continued arguing cutting off abruptly as the door shut in her wake. The amount of joy she derived from the dean’s expression as she ducked out was near pathological.

“Professor Beck, was it?” Caoimhe had grown well-accustomed to starting over, to finding her footing in new environments. There was always a nook into which she could burrow herself, even if it was a box-strewn hotel room rented by the week. She preferred it when it looked like this. Like university hallways and bookshelves, drifting notes from a piano in a practice room, and sometimes people. They were always the hardest. They had interests, opinions, smiles and laughter of their own. It was easy to leave behind a bookshelf or a piano. It wasn’t always easy to leave behind people, the rare friend. Professor Beck had jumped in with the same glee Caoimhe had, and she already found herself thinking about what it would mean to leave. “I’m stealing you for every meeting. I’m sorry, it’s just the way it’s going to be.”

Morgan followed her new friend out. People seldom questioned women leaving in pairs, and she’d just earned some much needed goodwill. When the doors to the lecture room closed behind her, she finally let herself laugh, more pleased with herself than she’d been in a long time.

“Why yes,” she said, bowing dramatically. “Morgan Beck, at your service. I am great at distractions, petty theft, and driving away unwanted attention. My knowledge of literature isn’t so bad either.” She laughed again and sidled up to the other woman. “I would be honored, thrilled even, to be your partner in crime for the next meeting. But first, I definitely want to know who I have the honor of being in cahoots with, and if I can steal you for my meetings too.” It had been a while since she’d had a reason to feel happy at work. Since she’d had a real friend she could do shallow simple things with. There was no keeping the supernatural from coming to her door no matter where she went, but a moment of good, a little bubble of fun and nothing now and then, could be worth a lot.

“Oh, Morgan!” Caoimhe stood up a little straighter, grinning. “English professor Morgan? Likes the Cranberries Morgan?” She gave her own bow, “It’s Caoimhe, Music professor, new in town. Also great at distractions, and car sing alongs like you wouldn’t believe.” Suddenly, White Crest didn’t feel quite so daunting. It felt just that little bit more like somewhere she could settle, if she ever found herself in a capacity to do so. Perhaps there was something to the fog, to the way it felt disconnected in a way no other town had managed. Perhaps there was something to letting herself have friendships in the in-between.

There was muffled arguing from behind the door, and Caoimhe descended into another laugh, moving further down the hallway. There’d been some mention of a treat in reward of success, and the rapidly derailing meeting behind them was definitely a success. “Now, as much fun as that was, I’ve already enlisted you as my arm wrestling champion, how could I possibly expect even more of you?”

“Yes! That’s me! And you’re Vivaldi and Britney Spears Caoimhe?” Morgan gaped. She followed Caoimhe down the hall, shoes skittering in a cascade of delight as she avoided the oncoming faculty approaching the door. “Oh, you’re amazing! You’re like the first cool person my age here and you actually give a shit about your students and teaching and you sing in the car too? Do you also sing karaoke? I just--feel like you’re one swooping in here and making everything here a whole lot better. Let me get you something, a drink, or lunch or whatever people with sudden free-time do.” She caught up to herself, hearing the echo of her own rambling and her unchecked enthusiasm in the hall. “Or, um, a rain check. Obviously. But, you really do seem great and this place isn’t kind to great people, especially when they’re isolated. And, you know, selfishly, I really do appreciate having a partner in crime. There’s only so much mischief you can get up to when it’s you against the world.”

“Okay, okay correction.” Caoimhe matched the same excited rambling coming from Morgan. She talked with her hands. Her mother would grab them sometimes, pin them to a table and say her name sharp, but with a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. Caoimhe never did make an effort to fix it. “It’s you and me against the world now, so just jot that one down. Or...at the very least boring staff meetings. We can work up to the whole world part, but I’m dedicated.”

She tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her slacks. She liked the sound of Vivaldi and Britney Spears Caoimhe, and cool person, and lunch between classes. Of someone who seemed just as excited to wreak havoc as she was, who cared about her students, who liked karaoke, and oh. That one wouldn’t be the best idea, but the rest! Caoimhe would happily get behind the rest. “Yes to karaoke sometimes, no to the rain check.” She parsed through the onslaught to address one item at a time, quick and with just as much enthusiasm as the questions had been asked. “You seem great, I don’t rain check great. But reverse it, let me get you a drink, or lunch, or something.”

Morgan couldn’t fight the way she brightened up at Caoimhe’s assurances. “Okay! Then--” Shoot. She didn’t eat out anymore. Or enjoy most food. “Coffee? I know it’s hot and terrible outside, but we can get something iced. I know where the best places in town are.” And she could actually taste a quad shot latte. “I’ll let you pay this time, but only because it contractually obligates a second outing when I get to pay. And the sky’s the limit there, because while we adjuncts might get shit for pay, I get some very generous supplemented by my unspeakably wonderful future-wife.” She slipped her hands into her own skirt pockets and elbowed Caoimhe, grinning. “I like the sound of that, though: you and me against the department and really boring faculty meetings. Today the arts college, tomorrow the school, and then who knows?”

[prayedtoyou]

overrated - read it on ao3

<<  when you get home, will you help me with a project?

>>  sure thing. i have to stop by the gas station on my way back, want anything?

<<  yeah, grab me some of those chocolate covered raisins that i like

>>  you got it. see you in 15

Dean had plans to go home after his three classes of the day to watch Netflix with his hand in his pants and eat pepper jack Cheez-Its until his stomach hurt, but he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to cancel those plans to help out his roommate for a few hours. Dean doesn’t often interrupt plans with himself, especially on a day where he doesn’t have any homework and he doesn’t have to show up for a shift at the salvage yard, but Cas is someone Dean doesn’t mind giving up a  few luxuries for.

Dean met Cas in their Design 101 class during freshman year. It was nothing more than a foundation class, one that Dean and Cas had to take in pursuit of their BFA degrees in film and television, and photography, respectively. Dean expected to jack off to the course by flirting with the fellow classmates while still paying just enough attention to pass the class and turn in projects and assignments on time, but when Cas started sitting next to him in the third week of the semester and heckled him about listening to the professor and taking better notes, Dean really started to buckle down and take it a little more seriously.

They’ve been friends ever since. They had late night study sessions during their first year when they were only an elevator ride away from each other’s dorm rooms. Their first college summer was mostly spent at the Biggerson’s just off SCAD’s campus where Cas served tables; Dean would come in to bother him, drink coffee, and take advantage of the free WiFi. They found an apartment they could barely afford just south of the metro area and moved in a week before the new school year started. They still have that same apartment.

This was to Charlie’s disappointment, at first. She had suggested moving in together before Cas had and Dean had been on the fence about it. He loved Charlie, they got along, she understood his nerdy references, they had similar taste in women--but he had been holding out for another photography major to make his move. She quickly forgave him when she met and later moved in with her girlfriend, Dorothy.

There was just something about Cas that set him apart from Dean’s other friends. It might have to do with how passionate Cas was about his classes and major; since sixth grade, he’s known that he would grow up to be a photographer for National Geographic so he could travel the world and take pictures of all his favorite creatures. Or it might have to do with his sense of humor--a little dark and always just flirtatious enough to make Dean wonder just how serious he is and whether or not he should laugh or take him up on his offers.

More than likely, though, it has to do with how attractive he is, how his smile is so bright it puts the sun to shame, how his laugh makes Dean’s heart swell up like a helium balloon, how he’s intelligent and eloquent, but also absolutely clueless about a lot of stuff Dean considers to be required life knowledge. Does most of that knowledge revolve around Star Wars, Back to the Future, and Indiana Jones movie references? Yes, but that’s beside the point.

And that’s what led Dean to living with the guy for going on three years, to spending entire days dedicated to showing Cas his favorite movies and shows, to picking up dark chocolate Raisinets on his way home from school, to walking into their apartment and calling out Cas’s name just like Ricky Ricardo.

Cas shouts back from the opposite side of the apartment where their bedrooms are. Dean finds Cas in his room, furniture pushed away from one wall and replaced with Cas’s favorite reading chair from the living room (that old, forest-green armchair that Cas found at an antique store on the Savannah River that Dean verbally hated, but secretly used when Cas wasn’t around because it’s about the most comfortable thing in the world), and a camera set up on a tripod facing the chair. Cas is wearing that white button down that looks especially good against the tan he got over the summer, the one that matches Dean’s after they spent several long days on Tybee Island right before their senior year started.

“So, what’s the project?” Dean asks, handing over the box of Raisinets. He curses at himself for forgetting to get a snack of his own while he was out.

Cas takes the box with a smile. “Thanks, Dean. This one is based on touch and what emotions it brings out in us, but we can’t have more than one subject in the shot. So, I need you to put this on.” Cas reaches out and drops a small black object into Dean’s palm.

It’s… a tube of lipstick.

“Uh, Cas? I thought we’ve established that I’m not really much of a model.”

Cas rolls his eyes, no doubt remembering the arguments they had on the river walk during their second year when Cas tried to shoot Dean for an assignment that ended up with them deciding that Dean would stick with filming and Cas would recruit performing arts majors to be his models. “I know, I'm not taking pictures of you, you’re taking pictures of me. I already have the camera focused and everything, you just need to put that on, give me a few kisses, and snap some pictures.”

Dean’s brain short-circuits. “K-kisses?”

“Yeah. I’m using lipstick kisses to represent my past relationships and how I feel about them touching me. Just cheek and forehead kisses. We’re not going to be Frenching or anything.”

“Oh.” Dean looks down at the lipstick, caught somewhere between disappointment and relief, wondering if it would be better or worse if these kisses were meant for Cas’s lips instead of the rest of his face. Would it even be right of him to take Cas up on this offer when he already fantasizes about putting kisses all over Cas’s skin? Would it be wrong for their first kisses to be over some project? “I don’t know how I feel about this, Cas.”

“About what, kissing me? They’re not even real kisses, you just have to pucker up like you're kissing your mom.”

Dean chews on his lip. Would it be so bad to take advantage of the situation and indulge in something he’s wanted since their second semester together? Shouldn’t he be a good friend and roommate and help Cas with his project, no matter the requirements?

Cas must see the uncertainty in Dean’s expression because he continues with, “Come on, Dean, we’re graduating next semester, we’re practically professionals. Are you really going to be embarrassed about a little lipstick when you could be filming HBO sex scenes a year from now?”

Dean looks back up at Cas. If he’s going to insist, who is Dean to tell him no? “Alright, asshole, I’ll do it. But you owe me.”

Cas smiles wide and, damn, Dean would wear lipstick every day if it meant Cas would look at him like that. “Okay, there’s a mirror behind you. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just put some on and lay it on me.”

Dean turns to find Cas’s mirror hung up with his portfolio. Photos are hung, tacked, and taped up from vacations, day trips, school projects, and family holidays. Dean is up there a few times: laughing on the opposite side of the table from Cas at Biggerson’s, a selfie of the two of them under the unflattering flash of a smartphone in a dark movie theater, the only good shot Cas got of Dean that day on the river walk, Dean asleep on the couch with a book folded up in his arms like a teddy bear.

Dean didn’t even know Cas took that last one.

He puts on the lipstick, ignoring the photos of himself. It’s definitely not as easy as he thought it would be--staying inside the lines was something he’s improved upon since childhood, but crayons are a lot different from makeup. He manages to swipe the color onto his face, grimacing at the taste of it.

When he looks back at Cas, all he gets is a blank stare and a slight nod. Feeling less than confident with deep red lips, Dean steps up to the plate.

“Where do you want it?”

Dean can hear the click of Cas’s throat as he swallows. He raises a hand, pointing to the knob of his left cheekbone.

“Here.”

Dean steps just a little closer. Cas is about his height, maybe an inch shorter, but it’s not even noticeable when Dean tilts Cas’s face up with a finger and thumb gently pinching his chin. He leans in and--smells Cas’s shampoo, notices the pores on his nose, finds trimmed whiskers along his cheeks--presses his lips right where Cas wanted them.

With the lipstick, Dean can’t taste Cas’s skin, but he can smell the face wash where his nose is sticking into Cas’s temple. Like pomegranates.

When he pulls away, he knows he’s blushing, but he has no way of hiding it, so he just smiles and says, “That’s a good color for you.”

Cas, a little pink himself, scoffs. “Just take the picture, Taylor Swift.”

Cas takes his seat, Dean steps behind the camera. He clicks the shutter button a few times, watching Cas’s face on the screen. He’s leaning his face up and slightly away, lips parted, eyes cast toward the door instead of the lense. It’s a great angle to show off that jawline of his.

Dean was never destined to be a model, but Cas looks just as good in photos as he does in real life. He knows exactly how to position himself, which light to use, how his face should look. He could model, if he ever wanted. Dean asked him if he would star in a short film Dean had to film, but Cas just laughed and said if he wanted to act he would have gone into performing arts.

“That should be enough,” Cas notes, and Dean realizes that he had taken way too many photos while thinking about Cas’s face. He backs away from the camera. “I’ll need a fresh layer for each kiss, so apply some more lipstick.”

Dean does as he’s told and goes back to Cas to kiss him again. This time it’s just above Cas’s right eyebrow. They go on like this a handful more times, until Cas has lipstick stains across his entire face. Each time feels like the first, and Dean has a harder and harder time removing his lips from Cas’s skin as they progress through the photos. Cas doesn’t seem to be as phased--he sits right down and assumes his pose. In each and every picture, Cas mostly just looks sad.

“Why do you look like that?” Dean finally asks after the sixth kiss, snapping pictures.

Cas unfurrows his brow and looks up from the floor. “Like what?”

“Like your dog just died.”

Cas cracks a small smile. “These kisses represent each of my exes and how I felt about my relationships with them.”

“They were all that bad?”

“They certainly weren’t good. After being cheated on, left for someone else, and dumped over text, I don’t exactly have fond memories of most of these people.”

“I remember when that dickhead Balth slept with that web designer. You didn’t leave the house for a week.”

“You took me to the Atlanta Aquarium and pointed at all the ugliest fish and said they looked like him.”

“And I was right. ”

When Cas smiles broadly, Dean sneaks in another picture. The shutter of the lense gives him away, but Cas doesn’t mention it.

“Remember when I watched 500 Days of Summer eight times in two days?” Cas asks. “That’s because Hannah kept telling me she didn’t want a relationship and ended up leaving me for someone who she got engaged to after five months.”

Dean chuckles low under his breath. “Yeah, I remember. I had to force you into the shower and then we went out for burgers.”

“And when Gadreel drunk texted me all the things he hated about me--”

“We toilet papered his frat house and went to a baseball game the next day. We got so sunburnt.”

Cas laughs at the memory and Dean captures it with the camera. He looks so much better like this, happy and covered in kisses from someone who actually cares about him. He deserves to be this happy for the rest of his life.

Cas sobers up and looks at Dean. His expression is soft, something closer to adoration than anything else. Dean wonders if he’s just amused  by the makeup.

“You were always there for me, Dean.”

Since Dean can’t take a compliment to save his life, he shrugs it off. “I was just trying to be a good friend. You did the same for me when Lisa and I broke up.”

They go quiet for a moment. Dean reflects back on the two weeks after their break up. Dean was drinking daily, taking whiskey in a travel mug to his classes, going to bars at night, falling asleep on the couch with a bottle in his hands. It took Cas several tries to get him out of his rut, first by asking Dean what was wrong, then by requesting that he eat something solid, and finally by whacking him with his rolled up yoga mat until Dean cleaned himself up and changed into some fresh clothes.

Dean had grumbled about it for a few days, but it was just what he needed. He couldn’t mope around forever and fall into a pit of alcoholism just because his year-long girlfriend finally got fed up with his shit. Cas spent extra time with him that month, changing his schedule and cancelling plans to hang out or do homework in the same room as him, occasionally reaching out to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder or knocking their feet together to remind him that he wasn’t alone. It helped tremendously.

The worst part wasn’t losing Lisa, it was coming to terms with everything he had been trying to deny since he was seventeen. His attraction to men was something he first noticed when a new kid came to his high school and he fell for the linebacker build and honey-sweet Cajun accent. But after dating women exclusively his whole life, the last thing he wanted was for Cas to feel like some sort of experiment.

“What happened? With Lisa. You never told me.”

Cas catches his eye, but Dean directs his gaze away quickly, suddenly finding the curves of the camera very interesting.

“I, um… I wasn’t very good to her. I was kind of using her to get past a crush I had on someone, but it didn’t go away and she said she couldn’t keep living like that. Like she was competing to be my girlfriend. I don’t blame her one bit, she was right to leave me. I just thought, if it was just a crush, it wouldn’t be a problem once I was with someone else, but when I couldn’t stop liking them…”

Dean chances a look at Cas, who looks just as sad as he had in those pictures. His eyes are wide and it almost looks comical with all the lipstick kisses on his face.

“I realized it was more than just some crush,” Dean finishes lamely.

Every part of him wants to tell Cas. But what would be the point? The two of them will graduate and Cas will become the next most famous National Geographic photographer and Dean will be looking for work as a camera holder on low budget movies and shows that may or may not be cancelled halfway through filming. He could always turn to porn as a last resort, but he'll never make it as far as Cas and he’ll never make it with Cas.

In the beginning, he didn’t want to ruin their relationship. They worked well together, whether it was study sessions or getting back at exes or picking out mismatching furniture at second-hand stores. He worried about losing his friend. Now he doesn’t want to say anything because he knows he’s going to lose Cas one way or another, and it will hurt less if they don’t get involved with each other any more than they already are.

Cas takes a deep breath, processing the information. He searches the room. His eyes land back on the camera.

“I have one more shot to get.”

Dean blinks. It’s what he expected. It wouldn’t matter if Dean subtly tried to imply how in love he is with Cas or if he bluntly told him, he would always get the cold shoulder. It’s for the best, he tries to convince himself. Any other way would just end in a bigger heartbreak than necessary.

He turns back to the mirror. He finds the photo of him and Cas in the movie theater again. He can’t remember what movie they saw, but their faces are nearly touching and Dean’s arm is around Cas and he wishes more than anything that he’d taken the chance to kiss him back then. Because, what’s the quote? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Does it count when Dean is, technically, in love, but just hasn’t voiced it yet?

With a new coat of lipstick, he faces Cas again. He’s standing in the middle of the room, right next to the camera, ready for his last kiss. Dean musters up all his fake confidence and closes the distance between them, standing just a little closer than he had before.

“And this time?” Dean asks.

Cas looks hesitant. Maybe he’s finally realizing that he should have chosen someone else to kiss him over and over again. Someone who he wouldn’t have to awkwardly live with afterwards. Someone who wouldn’t have made a straightforward project into something uncomfortable.

His hand comes up to his face. He points a single finger to his bottom lip.

“Here.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat. He hunts for any sort of lie in Cas’s eyes, any indication that he didn’t want it, that he wanted to take it back. But Cas just looks right back at him, waiting, patient.

Dean fits the corner of Cas’s jaw into the center of his palm, runs his thumb across Cas’s cheek. A lipstick kiss smears under the pad of his finger, wiping into nothing but a blur, just like the memory of whichever lover that one was meant to be.

When their lips meet, Dean forgets about every single reason he didn’t let himself have this before. Everything in his head melts away until there’s just Cas and mouth and hands and Cas and Cas and Cas.

Cas doesn’t hold back. He grips Dean’s waist like a life raft in the middle of the ocean, opens his mouth and moans when Dean slips his tongue in. He takes everything Dean gives him. He moves his head aside when Dean trails his mouth along his jaw and down his neck, kissing and sucking and nipping at the skin. Dean pulls him closer, desperate to feel as much of Cas as he possibly can.

Dean feels like he’s shaking, or maybe vibrating, with need. Everything is tilting, moving, wavering around him. The lights could blow and he wouldn't even notice, he’s too wrapped up, too confused about which way is left or right.

Their mouths come together again and the world straightens out on its axis. They slow down, brushing their lips together the way pages of a book slide against one another. They take their time. They learn the way they move with each other.

Eventually, they part. Not to gasp for breath, but to rest their foreheads together; to align their hearts. Between them, Dean can smell Cas’s toothpaste and taste the lipstick.

“We should do projects together more often,” Dean concludes humorlessly.

“I think we should skip the projects and just make out,” Cas counters.

Dean pulls back to laugh quietly at Cas, but then sees his face. Cas is covered in lipstick, all around his mouth, his chin, across his jaw, down his neck. The makeup follows the patterns of Dean’s kisses, right down to where he had sucked Cas’s earlobe into his mouth.

He lets loose, practically wheezing at the state of Cas’s face. Dean’s must look similar, because Cas erupts into laughter too and they both sink into each other, bodies convulsing in their arms.

“Come on, come on. One more picture,” Cas begs, pulling out of Dean’s grasp and positioning himself on the chair. He couldn't wipe that smile off his face if he tried, and it looks like he isn’t putting in any effort at all to push it away.

Dean presses the shutter button three times, hoping at least one of them is a good shot, before diving around the camera to pull Cas into his embrace again.

The lipstick ends up on chests, wrist, bed sheets, and hips, but they don’t mind. They might even keep the tube for another time.

tags below the cut!

@sweatercas | @queenvee08 | @fierydeans | | @scamp-00 | @cottondean | @hallowedbecastiel | @wanderingcas | Please let me know if you’d like to be added to/taken off the list!

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — Two: Vase with Honesty

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung, reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.7k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 2 / 10

Warnings — language, brief mention of murder

Previous — Next

The Friday after your application is sent, you receive a response from Big Hit. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you would get a response this quickly, let alone with the contents therein.

"What the fuck!" you scream, nearly throwing your laptop across your bedroom. 

Milo storms through the door, eyes wide with panic as she scans your bedroom for signs of an emergency. "What the fuck?"

"Exactly! Look at this!" You shove the laptop in her direction, biting your nails in anticipation.

Though trepid, Milo takes the computer from your grasp and begins to scan the screen. As her eyes reach the bottom of the email, she begins to mirror your exact expression as her jaw drops and curses fly from her lips—in multiple languages.

"Oh my—What the hell, [Y/n]!"

"I know! I know," you laugh, giddy beyond what you can control. "Read further!"

"We'd love to conduct a phone interview with you at your earliest convenience. After which, if both parties choose to go forward, we would like to do an in-person interview in Seoul. [Y/n]! This is practically a yes!"

"Not quite...but it's a start!"

Milo giddily shoves the laptop back towards you, practically bouncing in place. "Call them, call them, call them!"

Two days later, you find yourself alone and on a plane bound for Seoul. The initial interview with Big Hit went extremely well. You were able to converse with a representative in both Korean and English, and went over your resume and other various technical aspects of the position.

"I have to get this out of the way," the woman spoke with a serious tone. "You're not applying for this job because you're Army, right?"

"No," you answered immediately, your voice assured. "Not at all. It's always been my dream to live in Seoul. My roommate can tell you, we've been looking for jobs for a few weeks, ever since graduation."

"Good, because I can tell you right now that we try to screen for that kind of behavior as best as we can. It's part of the interview and background check process. It has to be. I mean, it’s fine to be a fan, but for the safety of the members, we have to make sure that no fanatics are hired and get close to them. A very small percentage of the company interacts with them at all, let alone regularly, but I had to ask."

She seemed overly concerned about that part, and you're not quite sure she believed you. Other than that, you feel that it couldn't have gone better. In fact, you were certain. Why else would they pay for you to fly to Seoul for an in-person interview, which she described as the final part of the hiring process?

You can't help the nervous tingles that travel along your neck and down your spine. The excitement fills your fingers and toes, and you struggle to keep still in your seat. Things are finally moving forward. The dream you've had since you were a child is finally coming to fruition. Everything is falling into place.

But another part of you recalls the literal dream that's occupied your mind for just as long, a subconscious memory or recollection that hasn't left for years. How much longer can you take this nightmare? Isn't it normal for people to have other dreams, not just the same one over and over and over?

The man with the dark, curly hair. The murderer with a gun. The museum halls and flowing blood and untimely demise. 

This Taehyung, this member of BTS, what will happen when—or if—you meet? Will he recognize you, too? Will he tell you he has that same nightmare? Will he know why you are connected, despite having never met or heard of each other?

You shake your head, trying to focus on what lies ahead as the plane starts to descend through the air. If you do land this job at BigHit, then you can look for the answers you so desperately seek. If this is meant to be, you'll get what you're looking for. One way or another. Of that, you are sure.

That same part of you is terrified of what you might find when you do.

Or what will become of you if you don't.

You're the first to grab your overhead luggage and exit the plane. After navigating security and international check-ins, you spot a short-haired woman in a suit holding a sign over her head. Your name is written in big, bold letters.

As you approach, the woman smiles and greets you with a bow. "You must be Ms. [Y/l/n]?"

You nod eagerly, offering her the same greeting. "Lovely to meet you...?"

"I am Director Hyeon, I head Human Resources for Big Hit Entertainment. We spoke on the phone earlier this week. Please, follow me."

Doing as Director Misun Hyeon asks, you're escorted to a car parked along the sidewalk outside the airport. The Director tells the driver to take your bags and return to Big Hit HQ. Along the way, she makes small talk about your trip and the life you have in America. She's very professional and reserved, but also very sweet, instantly putting you at ease for your interview.

When the car drives up to the enormous, glass building in downtown Seoul, you're taken aback by the monstrous size of Big Hit headquarters. You knew they were a large company, staffing over five hundred people from your research, but seeing the sight in person has an entirely different effect.

"We just moved into this building this year," Director Hyeon states with a hint of pride. The car turns the corner and descends into the private underground garage. "The company has outgrown the last building, so when our contract was up, we knew we would need to expand."

"How many floors does it have?" you say, gawking at the many floors, both above and below you.

"Nineteen above, seven below," she replies, exiting the car. "Out interview will be on the top floor, so you can have a look at the view."

Director Hyeon wasn't kidding when she said there's a view. The entire penthouse level of the new Big Hit office is lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. Light streams in, ricochetting off the glassy surfaces to toss rainbows across the room. Peering down from the walkway, you see the expansive Seoul City spread out below. Everything looks so much smaller from two-hundred feet in the air. So beautiful, it's enough to take your breath away.

You have to get this job. After seeing this place, there's no other path you can see ahead of you.

The Director escorts you to her office, a room encased by another series of glass panels to give the illusion of privacy. Across from her, you can see several other offices of similar design. She asks you take a seat, getting you a cup of coffee as you make yourself comfortable.

In your mind, the interview couldn't have gone better. You were confident and assured of your abilities, and you have the grades and some experience to back it up. And the fact that you hit it off well with Director Hyeon doesn't hurt either.

As you finish up, she hands you the official memo on the position. "These are some of the tasks you'll be asked to do," she states, then continues to briefly overview what's on the page. "Your position would be Production Assistant, but that can mean doing just about anything, either in office, on tour, or on scene with one of the shows. You would do translation work, both ahead of time for press releases and social media as well as on the spot translations during events or interviews. And as I mentioned, you would handle the BTS official social medias for the English audience. They can post what they want, but they have been told to work with you on captions, tags, content, and the like."

She continues, "We're about to start work on a new album after the boys take a few weeks off from all the work they did on the last tour. When that happens, you might tag along in the studio and assist in various things there. When Bon Voyage or Run BTS begins shooting, you'll assist there. I know that word is vague, but I can promise it'll be more than just doing coffee runs or cleaning up after the boys." She laughs at that last part. "We have other people for that. What we need is someone that can really get into the trenches of the boys' work and help where needed, especially when it comes to the language barrier."

"Hence the bi-lingual requirement," you add.

Director Hyeon nods. "Exactly! So, I know this is a lot to take in, but we really are interested in you. We wouldn't have flown you all the way out here if we weren't. I do have a couple of other candidates I want to interview over the next day or so, but I have a feeling that you're our top pick. If you're willing to hang around Seoul for the next, say, forty-eight hours—all expenses paid, of course—I can give you a definite answer. Are you interested, Ms. [Y/l/n\?"

With a determined smile and eager nod, you reply, "More than you can imagine."

Finding things to do in Seoul isn't difficult at all. In fact, the rest of the day goes by pretty quickly. After the Big Hit driver takes you to your hotel and helps you carry your bags to your room, you take the rest of the evening to go out and explore the city. The food, the festivities, the feelings: if this is going to be your new home, you want to see it all.

The next day, knowing that you probably won't hear from Director Hyeon until the following day, you set back out into the city with a plan to see as many of the sights as possible. The night before, you'd laid in bed and made a plan of attack to take on Seoul. While knowing you wouldn't get to nearly all the spots you wanted, you made a list of the ones closes to your hotel, within walking distance. 

The day was absolutely beautiful. Whether or not you got this job, you weren't going to waste your forty-eight hours in South Korea.

In the morning, you visit several historic sites—such as the green space and onetime royal burial ground at Hyochang Park, the architectural and sightseeing wonders of Seoullo 7017, and the restored 1300s fortress wall and the pedestrian gate of Sungnyemun. After grabbing lunch at a local restaurant, you turn towards some of the other sights.

As you pass by City Hall, the building around the corner catches your eye. It's a large, old building crafted from concrete and bricks. It stands out from some of the more modern sights in the area. Edging closer, moving through the greenery around it, you see the name of the building come into perfect view.

서울시립미술관. Seoul Museum of Art.

Without thinking too hard about it, your feet take you towards the museum. You can't put your finger on it, but like the city itself, there's something so alluring and familiar about it. This whole trip has been one big, "Haven't I been here before?" This place, however, gives you heightened feelings. Both positive and negative.

You brush it off, convincing yourself they've arisen due to jetlag and job-related nerves.

The museum is even more awe-inspiring on the inside. The expansive interior is painted white to create more of a contrast between the walls and the art. Galleries stretch out in different directions, but you're drawn to one of the open rooms a little further in.

People flutter about, quietly chatting in various languages about the temporary exhibit that takes up little space but all the focus. It's a set of several still life oil paintings by Vincent Van Gogh on lend from the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. They're displayed along temporary glass walls that circulate the wing. A tour guide leads several visitors to each painting.

Your eyes trail from one to the next, but when you catch sight of a piece covered in shades of brown and orange, you halt mid-step. The painting looks so familiar to you, more than anything you've seen so far. If there is anything calling you to this place, this painting has to be it.

The card below the piece says that the name is "Vase with Honesty." Painted in autumn of 1884, it was one of Van Gogh's first still lifes.

"The name 'honesty' may refer to the translucence of the round seed pods, which turn a silvery-white colour in the autumn," the plaque reads. "They then resemble silver coins, and in Dutch this plant is called the judaspenning, 'coin of Judas'. This is a reference to the apostle Judas, who betrayed Christ for 30 pieces of silver. He is said to have thrown the coins to the ground when he hanged himself. Where they landed, the honesty plant later grew."

Minutes later, after the tour guide and most of the patrons have moved on to other exhibits, you're left alone with "Vase with Honesty."

Almost alone.

Another person remains to your right, a few feet between you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that it's a figure dressed in black sweatpants and a grey hoodie. His face is hidden by the hood, as well as a face mask that covers everything from his jaw to just under his eyes. This man is a half-foot taller than you, you estimate, and while you can't see his face, he also feels inexplicably familiar.

Like you, the art-loving, stranger's eyes are glued to this one particular painting. And like you, his gaze is that of both confusion, realization, and familiarity.

"I feel like I've seen this somewhere else," you murmur, trying to break the silence. Normally, you would've kept quiet, but there's something about this person that leads you to speak up. "It's familiar, isn't it?"

The man nods once, not replying verbally.

"Have you ever seen it before?"

"No," he responds in a quiet whisper, then gestures to the brochure in his hand. "This painting hasn't been here since 1995. It's come back for the first time in twenty-five years."

"Wow, really?"

He nods again. "The brochure says that the Van Gogh Museum hasn't lent out most of its art since then. I overheard one of the tour guides saying something about an accident at this Musem that caused them to recall all their temporary exhibits."

You shift your eyes from the stranger to the painting. "Then how could I know this one so well? I was born in 1995 for god's sake."

"I was, too, so I don't know...maybe we saw it online or something."

"It feels stronger than that," you insist, wrapping your arms around yourself to ease the chill crawling up your spine at the thought of whatever might have happened here in 1995. "Do you know what happened twenty-five years ago?"

"One of the artists working at the Museum was murdered."

Your head jerks back around to stare at the man, wide eyes locking briefly with his dark irises. "Murdered?"

He nods and gestures to the exhibit with the brochure. "That's why they started showing them in glass casings. If you look close to the corner, you can see a tiny, bloody fingerprint."

Turning back to the Van Gogh piece, you step closer, squinting your eyes at the bottom left corner where the man gestured. Sure enough, at the very edge, a smear of crimson in the shape of a fingerprint can be seen.

"What the hell?" you gasp, eyes widening again. "Hey, do you mind if I see that broch—"

Your sentence falls off at the end as you turn. The space behind you where the stranger once stood is empty. He is nowhere in sight, and his familiar aura has gone with him.

[roarkefm]

u   kno   wat..   i   truly   have   the   social   capacity   of   johnny   fuckin   2   by   4   right   now   so   i’m   jus   gonna   apologize   for   being   late   as   pER   USUAL   and   will   leave   u   with   the   human   embodiment   of   a  smashed   macaroni   necklace   😭   roarke   ‘   why   swallowing   is   always   an   option   ’   kincaid !

( twenty-three , cismale ,  he & him ) ✉ ― hey babes, have you met ROARKE  KINCAID  ? they’re working here as A LIFEGUARD  AT THE VIP POOL. you might hear them singing can you afford to be an individual? by nothing but thieves playing from their speakers, it’s their favourite song. yes, they hear that they look like DANNY GRIFFIN a lot, actually - it’s really uncanny. their friends back home in SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA say that if they were on a tv show, their trope would be THE WANDERLUST , how funny is that ?

i.

𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 : atlas roarke kincaid, goes by roarke and occasionally inmate #003458 when his probation officer is feeling spicy 🌶

𝖆𝖌𝖊 : twenty - three

𝖉𝖔𝖇 : july 31st , 1997

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 / 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖘 : he / him

𝖘𝖊𝖝𝖚𝖆𝖑 & 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : yes to all n to all a good night 🎅

𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: 6‘4″  or however tall those big b*tches from 5sos are

𝖆𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖈 : some real upstanding citizen energy

𝖔𝖈𝖈𝖚𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : winner of the ‘ least likely to make it past 18 ′ superlative , professional arm candy to whomever wants to pay his bills , has been known to play baywatch at the vip pool , has been known to #freethenip and bust out a guitar with his mates after a few too many mimosas ( some would dare call it a ~band~ )

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓 : born in the 7th circle of hell ; raised in primarily in sydney , australia

ii.

has some real  “ kinda kid to be conceived in a walmart bathroom on a tuesday night ” energy, think jj from obx but a little more flighty and with a pinch of naur 

TW DEATH, TW OVERDOSE: born to irresponsible parents who cared more about their next fix than their child, roarke’s mother overdosed when he was five and he’s been in and out of foster care ever since ( that is, when they could catch his scrawny ass )

TW DRUG DEALING: bouncing around couches, futons, homes and dealing with the occasional run in with his drugged out, deadbeat father did a number on him in a “ i’m never contribute to society ” kinda way, but roarke DID grow up loving their lil fishing trips where he was trying to catch a sunfish while his dad was trying to count the bills from the brick he just sold

breaking any and all rules with his little rat pack of delinquents who tore up their hometown on their lil skateboards became his favorite activity and he built himself quite a record of petty theft, vandalism, and trespassing

when he was freshly graduated and working at his fifth job in two months  ( waiting tables at some local seafood place ) someone approached him with an offer– she was a lonesome woman with an alluring smile and an offer of companionship : whatever he wanted whenever he wanted as long as he accompanied her around europe

add verified sugar baby to the empty resume !! naturally he ate that shit up and it was a hell of a time while it lasted. he was a lil wine drunk and #heartbroken when it was over, and then when it was over for a second time... and another time after that .......... u catch my drift . and this is how he ended up here SDFNKSNKF

when he’s not vying for delinquent of the year , he enjoys tossing together a tune or six to live out his pipedream of his lil music career actually going somewhere , but he’ll never admit he’s serious about it

when he is vying for delinquent of the year, he’s most definitely not above acting like the amazon prime of his father’s business, so if u need anyone to help u fail ur drug test.... ur saving grace is ever-present 👼

iii.

he’s quick witted with a splash of dumbass and considering he’s barely literate as it is , sarcasm is close to his first language

this apple fell approximately 1 cm from the tree and unfortunately roarke  inherited his father’s fiery temper 😌 but he does make an effort to keep it under wraps until it can be used to line his pockets

he’s kinda rockin this devil may care / trial by fire attitude so he’s quite … hm … impulsive in that he’ll rage on a sunday night and show up to his monday 8 am vip pool aquatics class with 3 pairs of sunglasses on , seconds from death if someone so much as looks at him

he’s extremely promiscuous and definitely has some addictive behaviors nskfsnkd but he kinda in this apathetic limbo that is 100% more trouble than it’s worth

once lost a ‘most likely to provide emotional support’ vote to a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe, but he will offer a prescription of puff puff pass to the right person cuz he’s not truly heartless 🥰 but close NKSFKN

really just a grade a crackhead who’s livin on a prayer 🙏😤

[imagine-loki]

Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine Loki struggling to adjust to someone who is independent and insists on paying for themselves all the time, even if it is a struggle sometimes. They need to do everything on their own. They never ask for help and refuse help. Just imagine Loki really wanting to spoil this person. Imagine how creative he would get to make life easier on this person who has captivated him.

+

Imagine being a talented singer at your local club. Loki comes in one night with Thor and the others (he’d rather be anywhere else but who turns down free drinks?) and gets ensnared in the voice of the beautiful singer on stage. Suddenly, his interest (and arousal) are more than piqued.

+

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach? 

AUTHOR’S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin’s company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki’s plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Fandral smiled brightly with a loud laugh and in a desperate time to prove him wrong, Loki looked at his schedule with a smart remark on his tongue. Loki’s smile disappeared quickly. Damn. He did have the same class as Fandral.

Fandral smiled that bright smile and then winked to the side and Loki heard the high pitched giggles of flirting women, “Shall we walk together when classes start next week? Perhaps I could get you a date this year?”

With an eye roll and voice laced with sarcasm Loki replied, “yes because I want help from you." 

Sif held her hand out to Loki for his schedule. Thor insisted earlier she could mark where everyone would be this semester for easy communication. So, unwillingly Loki handed it to her knowing he was sentencing himself to public outings instead of the comfort of his room with books. He pondered if he should get out of those outings or try to get out of his room. Perhaps he would meet someone, or a few people, to hang out with instead of his brother during meal times.

Thor clapped Loki’s back, "this is going to be the time of our lives. College is full of possibilities. Last year was such a great time for the five of us! There were plenty of people I met! Last year all you did in your free time was study. Lighten up Brother, and develop friendships.”

Siff spoke up after scribbling on schedules, “Or he could get the best grades, and the honors scholarship for extra money.” Sif gave Thor a raised eyebrow after he chuckled, then she shrugged going back to scribbling. She muttered, “graduate top class and make more money than you. Support himself and whoever stumbles into his life.”

Valstagg’s boisterous laughter caught everyone’s attention until his eyes darted in the direction of a food truck. He mumbled, “That would be quite the stumble for Loki to notice.”

Hogun’s lip twitches a smidge as he looked at the schedules with Siff and marking them. Loki’s schedule was back and he looked it over. He had the 8am class with Thor and knew the idiot would miss too much class from the way Thor groaned over a class first thing on a Monday. Loki had the damn extracurricular art class that Fandral was also in.

Loki was excited for art class because he practiced occasionally by drawing what he imagined a scene looked like from his leisure readings. Although Loki was terrible at drawing realistic details, nothing stopped him from trying. This class filled a block in his major which further helped him decide to pursue some knowledge for his little hobby. No one would ever see such things due to drawing being a secret… well, for now anyway. Fandral was likely to tell everyone of his poor skills once their shared classroom of a three hour long session two times a week.

Fandral inquired, “so…Sif are we going to come to your dorm room for lunch?”

Sif smirked, “the invitation goes to everyone but you.”

“How cruel to keep me away from the sight of your beautiful dorm mate.”

Loki turned as he claimed he would see them later. Loki strolled to the dinning hall. It was a typical day; annoying brother and his friends, people all around him talking animatedly with others, some more intimately touching with the hold of hands or lips locked together. Loki tore his gaze from those people and observed where he was, and why he was there and NOT for some romantic adventure.

The buildings seemingly new due to constant cleaning and repairs. The pathways that seemed to be expanding due to hurried people walking beside the sidewalk trying not to be late. His night owl of a brother for example was always in a rush and did not go with the pace of everyone else. Otherwise, the grass was perfectly manicured. There were areas for decorative flowers, bushes, as well as well placed trees. 

Individuals gathered under trees seeking some comfort in the cooler shade. Loki glanced upwards to the sky that was currently cloudy. Then the sun shone thus pouring warmth onto him and momentarily blinding him. 

Loki was sure he somehow ran into something but with a curse word flying out of someone’s mouth realization struck instantly this was not an object. Loki instinctively held his hands out to catch the person. Short hair in blended layers caught the sunlight in wonderful variations of browns. The hair seemed to flow slowly as Loki hastily pulled the person closer to prevent a fall. Warm leather in his hands that helped with the grasp. Once stabilized Loki glanced down and noticed the petite and plus size girl in his grasp. 

Her eyes were shielded by huge sunglasses, her full cheeks framed by hair placed perfectly, except for a few strands dancing near her lips. A full lower lip pressed to her thin upper one as she pushed out of his grasp.

The trance seemed to end as Loki watched the girl pick up her phone. The glistening pieces around the device let Loki know instantly the screen was shattered. The woman ran her fingers through her hair and Loki was convinced that must be how her hair was supposed to be due to it looking better than before. Her eyebrows angled as she tapped on the phone and it seemed to be working.

Loki had money to replace her phone, even get his which was the newest model of over a thousand dollars. His parents had money due to his father, Odin, owning a software corporation that was supposed to be handed down to either Thor or Loki. Of course depending on who learned the most in college from their business majors. Loki actually had plenty of money he earned himself due to taking a position to work in his father’s business, a branch closest to the campus in an attempt to learn more. To inherit the corporation was the goal and was the reason he spent too much time in his room, practicing programming for his second major in computer science.

Loki quickly replied as soon as it registered, “I am sorry. I didn’t-”

The woman’s face turned to his with lightning speed and her lips parted with a harsh tone, “if you say you didn’t see me because I am short I will bring you down to my level with a punch to your gut.”

Loki blinked and finally noticed how short the woman was. He estimated a little over a foot smaller than himself due to him being able to rest his arm on her head easily, if he were to even attempt it. However with the fiery look he was getting, Loki stammered, “I can get you a new phone. Any phone you want.”

The woman was already tapping on her phone quickly as if sending a text. A few strands of her hair danced in her face but she seemed to ignore it. Loki however, needed to push back a single hair back in place to maintain his professional and clean appearance. Loki was not sure if she was ignoring him or not and he absentmindedly cleared his throat.

The dark haired woman placed her phone in a pocket, ran her other hand through her hair that parted in a different way..that was visually satisfactory as well. Her leather jacket protesting with sounds of attempts to stretch as she crossed her arms. Her eyebrows rose above her glasses and her bottom lip pressed to the thinner one. She seems to be annoyed, arguably she had every reason to have that right. She said nothing, nor did she make any attempt to even try to speak.

Loki wasn’t sure if this little ball of fire even heard a word he said. He spoke again as he took a small writing tablet from his inner coat pocket, “here is my information, we could meet later and you can pick out any phone you wish. There is a business not far from here that I work at-”

A casual, but with irritation mixed, voice spoke, “Not interested. I have the insurance on this one to have it replaced.”

Loki glanced up but did not see her. He turned and she was already walking away, quickly. Loki took long strides to her as he handed the woman the paper with his name, number, and location information to meet. The woman took the paper and seemed to be looking at it with a tilt of her head towards the paper but Loki already seen her eyelashes high up due to her obviously looking at the path she was on. The woman did nothing to stop her quick pace that Loki’s long legs easily kept up with.

As she crumpled up the paper and threw it in the recycling bin she spoke, “Thanks for the offer but I will pass.”

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed, “pardon?”

The small woman stopped as she replaced the sunglasses to her head. “Can you see now that I don’t want your help?”

Big eyes that were sharp and harsh with angled eyebrows. Eyelashes so thick they seemed to cast their own shadows among her face. Bright green eyes with flecks of dark brown and an inner iris of honey gold that stemmed into the outer green.

“You just cost me a ton of work to replace a dumbass phone. Nice work by the way to try to get me to call you. Clever plan, but it’s not something I fall for.”

“If you would let me help-”

The woman interrupted him, again with a scoff. 

All Loki wanted to do was help her. Atleast to replace what he had broken. Everyone else would jump at the latest phone with the best camera and larger screen. Top notch software that had lighting quick responses. A phone that stored everything for Loki; His contacts, everything in his calendar, personal alarms for daily routines, apps that helped with maintaining his body physique, and importantly he had access to the school web pages for homework-In conclusion, Loki’s phone was his life.

Loki tries again for a chance to talk quickly.

She waved her hands, palms to him and waved them with her head down, “Uh huh. Nope. Go try to woo someone else with your good looks of, ‘tall, dark, and handsome.’” Her eyes met his as her hands gestured to him and her eyes skimmed over him briefly with the burning rage behind them. “There are a ton of people out there to fall for someone to take care of them with your fancy handwriting that obviously comes from a prestigious schooling. As well as your expensive clothes.”

Loki’s mouth parted and then shut firmly. “You make accusations based on nothing but a few things. Maybe you should try not to judge a book by its cover.”

She rose an eyebrow, “how? Over dinner while playing some Q and A?”

Loki rose his eyebrows in shock and his mouth parted slightly. Loki did not miss a chance though, “If it could even things out. Perhaps.”

She scoffed and put her glasses back in place over her eyes, “I would pay for myself anyway.”

Loki gesture between them before she would turn, “You think that would make this even?”

“How about you just read my lips and understand you don’t owe me anything.” Her eyebrows rose over the glasses with a forced smile, “we good now?”

Loki stared at the woman in disbelief. “If you insist everything is ok but-”

The woman replied with a curt nod and side smile, “Everything is great. Try to have a good day.”

Loki looked elsewhere not believing he was going to let her leave, “I wish you well and give many apologies.”

The woman turned when her phone went off, “I have to go. Bye.” She did not look back but greeted the person on the other line with a happy melodic, “hel~lo! Sorry I am late. I bumped into someone.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at the odd change but paid no attention to it as he went to the dining hall for food. Loki was going to enjoy some of his remaining free time with a large serving of sweets before returning to his room in solitude before Thor, Fandral, and Hogun returned to their combined space. Loki thanked the school for having the set up of separate bedrooms, however cursed the common small kitchen and livingroom that he had to walk through to use one of the bathrooms.

They would always try to get him to join in their “fun” of watching each other play a fighting game while they drank energy drinks. Hogun would go to bed at a reasonable time but the other two would stay up talking loudly about the damn game until they went out to a bar.

Sometimes Loki would join in a few games of cards just to take some of their money. It got to the point where everyone agreed to use just change instead of dollar bills.

Loki smirked as he remembered to take the vase full of coins to the change machine, “Idiots…”

Loki ate alone and no one bothered him either. He did watch as others around him talking cheerfully. A friend might be nice to spend some time with once in a while. However, Loki’s phone buzzing in his pocket with his schedule alarm to start practicing programming made him remember he was not there for companionship. He was at college to get an education.

Loki picked up after himself and walked swiftly to his dormitory, swiped his ID card to get through doors and finally his pin password for his shared space with the others. Loki stomach sunk when the lights were still off and no one was there. He noted the feeling as odd while he walked in a daze to his room. He shut his bedroom door off to the rest of the world and readied himself for an hour of programming.

Loki programmed for about an hour and a half to figure out something new he stumbled onto. Loki needed a shower. Something about programming made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and needing to feel fresh again. Loki’s cursed phone rang for the third time since he was getting ready to relax with a book. The most annoying sound he had on his phone was Thor’s ringtone. Loki purposely hit the end button to hang up and force the call to his mailbox. Grabbing a book and sitting in his comfortable desk chair Loki’s daily peace began.

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine Loki struggling to adjust to someone who is independent and insists on paying for themselves all the time, even if it is a struggle sometimes. They need to do everything on their own. They never ask for help and refuse help. Just imagine Loki really wanting to spoil this person. Imagine how creative he would get to make life easier on this person who has captivated him.

+

Imagine being a talented singer at your local club. Loki comes in one night with Thor and the others (he’d rather be anywhere else but who turns down free drinks?) and gets ensnared in the voice of the beautiful singer on stage. Suddenly, his interest (and arousal) are more than piqued.

+

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach? 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin's company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki's plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Fandral smiled brightly with a loud laugh and in a desperate time to prove him wrong, Loki looked at his schedule with a smart remark on his tongue. Loki's smile disappeared quickly. Damn. He did have the same class as Fandral.

Fandral smiled that bright smile and then winked to the side and Loki heard the high pitched giggles of flirting women, "Shall we walk together when classes start next week? Perhaps I could get you a date this year?"

With an eye roll and voice laced with sarcasm Loki replied, "yes because I want help from you." 

Sif held her hand out to Loki for his schedule. Thor insisted earlier she could mark where everyone would be this semester for easy communication. So, unwillingly Loki handed it to her knowing he was sentencing himself to public outings instead of the comfort of his room with books. He pondered if he should get out of those outings or try to get out of his room. Perhaps he would meet someone, or a few people, to hang out with instead of his brother during meal times.

Thor clapped Loki's back, "this is going to be the time of our lives. College is full of possibilities. Last year was such a great time for the five of us! There were plenty of people I met! Last year all you did in your free time was study. Lighten up Brother, and develop friendships."

Siff spoke up after scribbling on schedules, "Or he could get the best grades, and the honors scholarship for extra money." Sif gave Thor a raised eyebrow after he chuckled, then she shrugged going back to scribbling. She muttered, "graduate top class and make more money than you. Support himself and whoever stumbles into his life."

Valstagg's boisterous laughter caught everyone's attention until his eyes darted in the direction of a food truck. He mumbled, "That would be quite the stumble for Loki to notice."

Hogun's lip twitches a smidge as he looked at the schedules with Siff and marking them. Loki's schedule was back and he looked it over. He had the 8am class with Thor and knew the idiot would miss too much class from the way Thor groaned over a class first thing on a Monday. Loki had the damn extracurricular art class that Fandral was also in.

Loki was excited for art class because he practiced occasionally by drawing what he imagined a scene looked like from his leisure readings. Although Loki was terrible at drawing realistic details, nothing stopped him from trying. This class filled a block in his major which further helped him decide to pursue some knowledge for his little hobby. No one would ever see such things due to drawing being a secret… well, for now anyway. Fandral was likely to tell everyone of his poor skills once their shared classroom of a three hour long session two times a week.

Fandral inquired, "so...Sif are we going to come to your dorm room for lunch?"

Sif smirked, "the invitation goes to everyone but you."

"How cruel to keep me away from the sight of your beautiful dorm mate."

Loki turned as he claimed he would see them later. Loki strolled to the dinning hall. It was a typical day; annoying brother and his friends, people all around him talking animatedly with others, some more intimately touching with the hold of hands or lips locked together. Loki tore his gaze from those people and observed where he was, and why he was there and NOT for some romantic adventure.

The buildings seemingly new due to constant cleaning and repairs. The pathways that seemed to be expanding due to hurried people walking beside the sidewalk trying not to be late. His night owl of a brother for example was always in a rush and did not go with the pace of everyone else. Otherwise, the grass was perfectly manicured. There were areas for decorative flowers, bushes, as well as well placed trees. 

Individuals gathered under trees seeking some comfort in the cooler shade. Loki glanced upwards to the sky that was currently cloudy. Then the sun shone thus pouring warmth onto him and momentarily blinding him. 

Loki was sure he somehow ran into something but with a curse word flying out of someone's mouth realization struck instantly this was not an object. Loki instinctively held his hands out to catch the person. Short hair in blended layers caught the sunlight in wonderful variations of browns. The hair seemed to flow slowly as Loki hastily pulled the person closer to prevent a fall. Warm leather in his hands that helped with the grasp. Once stabilized Loki glanced down and noticed the petite and plus size girl in his grasp. 

Her eyes were shielded by huge sunglasses, her full cheeks framed by hair placed perfectly, except for a few strands dancing near her lips. A full lower lip pressed to her thin upper one as she pushed out of his grasp.

The trance seemed to end as Loki watched the girl pick up her phone. The glistening pieces around the device let Loki know instantly the screen was shattered. The woman ran her fingers through her hair and Loki was convinced that must be how her hair was supposed to be due to it looking better than before. Her eyebrows angled as she tapped on the phone and it seemed to be working.

Loki had money to replace her phone, even get his which was the newest model of over a thousand dollars. His parents had money due to his father, Odin, owning a software corporation that was supposed to be handed down to either Thor or Loki. Of course depending on who learned the most in college from their business majors. Loki actually had plenty of money he earned himself due to taking a position to work in his father's business, a branch closest to the campus in an attempt to learn more. To inherit the corporation was the goal and was the reason he spent too much time in his room, practicing programming for his second major in computer science.

Loki quickly replied as soon as it registered, "I am sorry. I didn't-"

The woman's face turned to his with lightning speed and her lips parted with a harsh tone, "if you say you didn't see me because I am short I will bring you down to my level with a punch to your gut."

Loki blinked and finally noticed how short the woman was. He estimated a little over a foot smaller than himself due to him being able to rest his arm on her head easily, if he were to even attempt it. However with the fiery look he was getting, Loki stammered, "I can get you a new phone. Any phone you want."

The woman was already tapping on her phone quickly as if sending a text. A few strands of her hair danced in her face but she seemed to ignore it. Loki however, needed to push back a single hair back in place to maintain his professional and clean appearance. Loki was not sure if she was ignoring him or not and he absentmindedly cleared his throat.

The dark haired woman placed her phone in a pocket, ran her other hand through her hair that parted in a different way..that was visually satisfactory as well. Her leather jacket protesting with sounds of attempts to stretch as she crossed her arms. Her eyebrows rose above her glasses and her bottom lip pressed to the thinner one. She seems to be annoyed, arguably she had every reason to have that right. She said nothing, nor did she make any attempt to even try to speak.

Loki wasn't sure if this little ball of fire even heard a word he said. He spoke again as he took a small writing tablet from his inner coat pocket, "here is my information, we could meet later and you can pick out any phone you wish. There is a business not far from here that I work at-"

A casual, but with irritation mixed, voice spoke, "Not interested. I have the insurance on this one to have it replaced."

Loki glanced up but did not see her. He turned and she was already walking away, quickly. Loki took long strides to her as he handed the woman the paper with his name, number, and location information to meet. The woman took the paper and seemed to be looking at it with a tilt of her head towards the paper but Loki already seen her eyelashes high up due to her obviously looking at the path she was on. The woman did nothing to stop her quick pace that Loki's long legs easily kept up with.

As she crumpled up the paper and threw it in the recycling bin she spoke, "Thanks for the offer but I will pass."

Loki's eyebrows furrowed, "pardon?"

The small woman stopped as she replaced the sunglasses to her head. "Can you see now that I don't want your help?"

Big eyes that were sharp and harsh with angled eyebrows. Eyelashes so thick they seemed to cast their own shadows among her face. Bright green eyes with flecks of dark brown and an inner iris of honey gold that stemmed into the outer green.

"You just cost me a ton of work to replace a dumbass phone. Nice work by the way to try to get me to call you. Clever plan, but it's not something I fall for."

"If you would let me help-"

The woman interrupted him, again with a scoff. 

All Loki wanted to do was help her. Atleast to replace what he had broken. Everyone else would jump at the latest phone with the best camera and larger screen. Top notch software that had lighting quick responses. A phone that stored everything for Loki; His contacts, everything in his calendar, personal alarms for daily routines, apps that helped with maintaining his body physique, and importantly he had access to the school web pages for homework-In conclusion, Loki's phone was his life.

Loki tries again for a chance to talk quickly.

She waved her hands, palms to him and waved them with her head down, "Uh huh. Nope. Go try to woo someone else with your good looks of, 'tall, dark, and handsome.'" Her eyes met his as her hands gestured to him and her eyes skimmed over him briefly with the burning rage behind them. "There are a ton of people out there to fall for someone to take care of them with your fancy handwriting that obviously comes from a prestigious schooling. As well as your expensive clothes."

Loki's mouth parted and then shut firmly. "You make accusations based on nothing but a few things. Maybe you should try not to judge a book by its cover."

She rose an eyebrow, "how? Over dinner while playing some Q and A?"

Loki rose his eyebrows in shock and his mouth parted slightly. Loki did not miss a chance though, "If it could even things out. Perhaps."

She scoffed and put her glasses back in place over her eyes, "I would pay for myself anyway."

Loki gesture between them before she would turn, "You think that would make this even?"

"How about you just read my lips and understand you don't owe me anything." Her eyebrows rose over the glasses with a forced smile, "we good now?"

Loki stared at the woman in disbelief. "If you insist everything is ok but-"

The woman replied with a curt nod and side smile, "Everything is great. Try to have a good day."

Loki looked elsewhere not believing he was going to let her leave, "I wish you well and give many apologies."

The woman turned when her phone went off, "I have to go. Bye." She did not look back but greeted the person on the other line with a happy melodic, "hel~lo! Sorry I am late. I bumped into someone."

Loki raised an eyebrow at the odd change but paid no attention to it as he went to the dining hall for food. Loki was going to enjoy some of his remaining free time with a large serving of sweets before returning to his room in solitude before Thor, Fandral, and Hogun returned to their combined space. Loki thanked the school for having the set up of separate bedrooms, however cursed the common small kitchen and livingroom that he had to walk through to use one of the bathrooms.

They would always try to get him to join in their "fun" of watching each other play a fighting game while they drank energy drinks. Hogun would go to bed at a reasonable time but the other two would stay up talking loudly about the damn game until they went out to a bar.

Sometimes Loki would join in a few games of cards just to take some of their money. It got to the point where everyone agreed to use just change instead of dollar bills.

Loki smirked as he remembered to take the vase full of coins to the change machine, "Idiots…"

Loki ate alone and no one bothered him either. He did watch as others around him talking cheerfully. A friend might be nice to spend some time with once in a while. However, Loki's phone buzzing in his pocket with his schedule alarm to start practicing programming made him remember he was not there for companionship. He was at college to get an education.

Loki picked up after himself and walked swiftly to his dormitory, swiped his ID card to get through doors and finally his pin password for his shared space with the others. Loki stomach sunk when the lights were still off and no one was there. He noted the feeling as odd while he walked in a daze to his room. He shut his bedroom door off to the rest of the world and readied himself for an hour of programming.

Loki programmed for about an hour and a half to figure out something new he stumbled onto. Loki needed a shower. Something about programming made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and needing to feel fresh again. Loki's cursed phone rang for the third time since he was getting ready to relax with a book. The most annoying sound he had on his phone was Thor's ringtone. Loki purposely hit the end button to hang up and force the call to his mailbox. Grabbing a book and sitting in his comfortable desk chair Loki's daily peace began.

[polyamorouspixie]

a quick and nasty FAQ v 2

all your problems solved, in a sentence

Can polyamory work?

Yes. Next question. 

My partner caught feelings for their FWB. Why did this happen?

Because they’re a human being and humans are naturally very good at having feelings for others

I hate being poly. My partner is poly. Can you solve this?

Yes. Break up with them. 

I’m poly. My partner isn’t. Can you solve this?

Yes. Break up with them. 

I’ve been incredibly upset and unable to function for a long time. Can you tell me how to be good at being poly so this goes away?

Your problem isn’t polyamory and is above my pay grade. Please see a medical professional. 

I’m a Unicorn Hunter why does everyone hate me?

If you were single, would you want to be the Unicorn? Right okay now you know why. 

I’m a Unicorn why does everyone hate me?

Darling they don’t. They’re worried for your safety. Except the Unicorn Hunters, some of them do seem to hate you.

My partner makes me unhappy all the time and I love them. Help?

Please break up with them. 

Can poly only work under specific circumstances (e.g. equal triad, open dyad with FWBs, quad, a chain with precisely seventeen participants)? 

No. Poly works when emotionally mature adults have relationships that make them happy. 

I only want a very specific relationship setup, of which I currently do not have. Is there something wrong with me?

Yes. If you’re attached to an idea rather than to the people, then you’re going to have a bad time. 

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: Thank you to all you wonderful people for supporting the first chapter so much! I got inspired and wanted to write more straight away! 3k words.

LOST IN TRANSLATION ↳What do you do when you have no qualifications but want to see the world? You help teach English in a Korean primary school, apparently. ↳Principal!Jin, math teacher!Yoongi, PE teacher!Hoseok, English teacher!Namjoon, school nurse!Jimin, art teacher!Taehyung, and science teacher!Jungkook.

CHAPTER TWO ↳You finish your tour of the school, and meet the person you’ll be teaching with, and the one you’ll be living with for the next year.

When you followed the principal into the classroom anxiously, you were surrounded by the joyous squeals of about twenty 10-year-olds as the bounced around the room wearing tiny white lab coats and massive safety goggles.

The teacher was at the head of the chaos, holding up a pair of sooty tongs and turning off a Bunsen burner’s blue flame on the front desk. He was young, like the rest of the staff so far, and had a mad grin on his face as the children lost their minds.

The two of you storming in certainly got their attention though, and the room fell into silence at the sight of their principal. The teacher turned around to face the door, and his grin faltered.

“Principal Kim,” he greeted, bowing quickly, still clutching onto the metal tongs, “I was just showing the kids how magnesium burns in fire. We’re learning about different types of oxidation.”

Kim scoffed and shook his head. “The Year 6 syllabus is focused on basic evolution in term 1 and electricity in term 2. We don’t even teach chemistry here, where did you get that magnesium?”

The teacher shrugs. As you look over him properly while they talk, you notice his hair is an odd shade of washed-out pink, although it certainly suits him. You don’t believe there’s a single shade of hair that could make him look any less attractive. “I’m just getting them interested in science at an early age. We need more women in STEM, don’t we, Min-ah?”

A chubby-cheeked girl in a burgundy sweater and corduroy overalls cheers out an affirming ‘yeah!’ although you don’t believe she was paying attention to a single thing the teacher was saying until he called out her name.

“Great,” Principal Kim sighs, “now I’m going to have 23 sets of parents breathing down my neck about why they should blow stuff up in class.”

“With all due respect, sir, magnesium doesn’t explode, it actua-”

“Jeon, this is our new English assistant, Y/n. Y/n, Teacher Jeon Jungkook. If you avoid him for your own safety, no one will blame you.”

You smile at the way Jeon pouts at you, as if vying for his own innocence. Less than an hour on the premises, and you were already beginning to feel like this was the best decision you had made in a long time. As much as Principal Kim seemed completely done with the antics of his staff, you could see the love and respect they all seemed to have for each other.

“Nice to meet you, Teacher Jeon. I look forward to…”

You trail off awkwardly as a mobile phone begins to ring, blasting a PSY song right at the catchy chorus. Jeon gives you a big toothy grin and wags his finger at the principal. “No phones in class, Principal Kim. That’s detention.”

Kim ignores this and pulls out his phone, wincing at the contact name. “I have to take this,” he says reluctantly, “Jeon, can you point Y/n in the direction of the English classroom? English Kim can look after her while I’m in my office.”

He departs without further ado, and you’re left standing at the front of the classroom awkwardly, waiting for Jeon to take off his goggles and put away the equipment so that the kids don’t mess around with it while he’s out briefly.

A small boy in a t-shirt and jeans walks shyly up to you. “Miss?” You nod at him to continue, squatting down on the balls of your feet so you can meet his eye-level. “You’re teaching English?” You nod again. “Can you please keep an eye on my sister, In-je, when she’s in your class? She’s not very good at English and mummy and daddy want her to get good grades.”

Your heart swells. “Of course. What’s your name?”

“In-jeong,” he declares in a quiet voice, gaze on the floor.

“Well, In-jeong, you’re a much kind brother. In-je is lucky for you is her brother.” You internally wince at your rubbish Korean, but he giggles in a high pitch, exposing a dimple in his chin and a gap between his front teeth.

“That’s what I say! Maybe if you tell her I’m the best brother ever she’ll believe you!”

A deeper voice calls out from above you. “I see you met Thing One.”

You look up at Teacher Jeon from your squat and tilt your head in confusion. “Thing One?”

“Yeah.” He reaches out and ruffles up In-jeong’s hair, causing the kid to squeal again. “Thing One and Thing Two, the sneakiest rascals in the whole school, huh?” It brings a smile to your face to see a guy with such great chemistry with kids, and it affirms why you’ve taken this job as your calling. “Anyway, Y/n, right? Let’s go, I’ll take you to the English classroom.”

You stand back up and straighten your skirt. “I can find it. If you need to be teaching?”

He shakes his head with a soft smile and sends In-jeong back to his seat with a pat on his shoulders. He addresses the class. “Now, I know science is the coolest thing in the world and all you want to do is touch everything, but if I come back and a single thing is out of place, I’ll never show you an explosion in class again.” He fixes them with a serious look. “Never ever.”

The kids gasp in perfect unison, and you have to restrain yourself from openly cooing at how cute they are. Teacher Jeon can’t be out of the classroom for long, so he jogs over to literally the next classroom block over, points at a door and declares, “that one,” then jogs back inside, cheered on by 23 tiny voices.

Before nerves at being alone can get the best of you, you climb the steps to the classroom door, and knock lightly. After hearing a muffled voice tell you to come in, you enter and look around the room for the teacher.

It doesn’t take you long. Although he’s sat at one of the mini kids’ tables, his legs stick out, almost up to his chest when he sits on the low chairs. He’s looking at you as you come in with a warm smile on his face, and you’re taken by how kind he looks.

His hair is a honey brown, his skin is golden, and his beam just about takes your breath away. When he speaks up, he goes straight to English, which gives you an entirely different sensation of friendliness. “Ah, Y/n! I’ve told my students that we were getting a visitor, they’re extremely excited. Come sit and tell us who you are.”

Unlike the science and math room rows, and the art room’s small clusters, the English teacher has the tables in one big circle with a mat in the middle, so that everyone is facing everyone. You sit gingerly in a spare seat near him, but between two young kids instead of right next to him. He grins over at you and waves a hand to indicate you should introduce yourself.

You glance over unsurely. “In English?”

He shrugs. “Maybe say something in English and something in Korean.”

You nod slowly, thinking of what you could say, not wanting to repeat the embarrassing first impression you gave the math class (and, more importantly, the math teacher). “Hello, everyone, my name is Y/n. I’m from [country]. I’m [age] years old.” You’re relieved when you can switch to English, but you still make sure to speak slowly and clearly. “I’m going to help you learn English this year. I’m very excited to be here in Korea for the first time.”

To their credit, each and every one of the students nods thoughtfully, but their eyes are either wide and panicked or glossing over.

The teacher initiates a round of awkward but enthusiastic applause. “Thank you, Y/n. We’re very grateful to have you here to help us, aren’t we?” They all agree cheerfully. “I’m Teacher Kim, or English Kim. You can probably just call me Namjoon, if you’d like. I know Western countries have a different level of formality, so I want you to still feel comfortable.”

Your cheeks warm up a little, and you smile, flustered. “Thank you very much. I appreciate it, really.”

He shoots you a quick blink-and-you-miss-it wink and turns back to the classroom. “Alright, team, let’s show off how much we know! We’re going to play a game!” After the predictable whoops and hoots he gets at that exciting announcement, he continues. “We’re going to play the charades with this week’s words, okay? What were our words this week about?”

The class shouts a unanimous, “animals!” and you can’t help but laugh at their energy. You remember being forced to take Spanish in middle school and not having nearly as much fun as these bouncy balls of energy.

“Yes, animals! Animals! Let’s start with So-min and work our way around the group. You act out one of the animals on our vocabulary list and the rest of us have to guess the English name, okay? So-min, start!”

A little girl with plaits wiggles in her seat until she comes up with one, she hops up and licks the back of her hand, then rubs it into her hair. The girl sitting next to her all but screams out, “rat!”

You muffle a giggle behind your hand but Namjoon is much more professional. “Almost,” he encourages with a proud smile on his face.

“Ooh, ooh, ooh, I know it! It’s, um… cat!”

The rest of the class goes by that way, and it feels like five minutes have passed when the school bell rings, although it must’ve been at least half an hour. They didn’t quite make it all the way around the circle, having too much fun watching each other act like animals to really even try guessing quickly, but you can tell Namjoon is too happy that they’re all energized about English to really care too much.

You watch the girl beside you pack up her stuff and shove it all into her neon pink backpack. You notice the backpack has characters drawn on in sharpie, and you recognize them to read In-je.

You remember your promise to her brother. “Uh, In-je?”

“Yes, teacher?” She blinks at you with wide eyes, and the same bone structure as her brother.

“I met In-jeong earlier. He asked me say hello to you.” She giggles happily, a slightly higher pitched version of her brother’s giggle. “My Korean is not good, I know. I think Korean is hard. You think English is hard, right?”

Her face crumples into a little pout. “English is very hard!”

You give her your softest smile. “I think we can help each other. You can help me my Korean, and I can help you your English.”

“Oh, please, unnie, that would be so nice!” She glances up as Namjoon approaches and squats down beside her with a frown on his face.

He rests his hand on her shoulder. “Now, In-je, you can’t call Teacher Y/n unnie. She’s much older than you and needs to be treated with respect.”

Before In-je can feel bad, you shake your head quickly. “No, no, Teacher Kim. In-je says me unnie because we are friends. We are friends, In-je?”

The brightest smile lights up her features as she launches herself off her chair and into your arms, agreeing emphatically and wrapping her arms tightly around your torso.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows at you with a bemused smile. You pat In-je’s back as she buries her face in your scarf, giving Namjoon a shrug and a grin back.

Once all the students clear out, you’re left in a quiet classroom with Namjoon. It’s lunch break for the kids, and you can hear the distant sounds of them screaming and laughing on the field, nowhere else to go since the school had no playground.

He thanks you for participating in the class, clearing up as he speaks in perfect, American-ized English. “They really loved you, I could tell. Normally when new people visit, they get all shy.” He looks over his shoulder from wiping down the blackboard and flicks you a knowing grin. “You’ve got a fan already. In-je was head over heels.”

You laugh dismissively. “Her brother asked me to help her with English. Said their parents were unhappy with her grades.”

He sighs and leans against the clean blackboard, butt resting on the little shelf at the bottom. “Oh, I worry about our In-je. Her parents are very strict. They can’t afford a good school, so they know she has to perform very well if she wants to get into a better high school.” He hums thoughtfully, sighing again. “It’s a lot of pressure for one little kid.”

“Sad.” You can’t think of anything better to say than that, though you know it’s not nearly enough.

He lifts his eyebrows and shrugs, pushing up off the blackboard and dusting his chalky hands off as he goes to leave the room. “Come with me, I’ll take you to the guy you’ll be living with. Nurse Park.”

You smile and follow, but your mind has screeched to a halt. Guy? Maybe it was sexist of you, but when the email read that a Nurse Park had offered to let you stay, you assumed it was a woman.

He leads you back towards the general reception area, where a small building is off to one side, on the other half of the school field to the classrooms you had just had a tour of. While from the outside it looks more like a shed, you can hear soothing classical music drifting out from the open door. Namjoon takes the steps before you, and you’re too preoccupied with the thought that you’d just signed up to live a year with a complete stranger that turned out to be a man that you didn’t even realize there were any steps, until your foot catches on the lip of the first one and you go pitching forward, hands flailing out to catch you.

You land on one wrist with more weight than the other, and it twists with a sharp pain as you do. Embarrassed beyond belief, you stumble up quickly, cradling your wrist, feeling your cheeks blaze.

Namjoon stares at you with wide eyes. “If there was ever a place to get injured, directly outside a clinic would be the one. You okay?”

You nod with a pained smile, biting hard on your lip to banish the tears building up in your eyes. He gives you a worried look, but disappears around the doorway anyway, inviting you to follow after him.

“…check it out to make sure it’s not serious.”

“Absolutely.”

When you enter, Namjoon’s obscuring the nurse’s face, and all you can see is a white shirt with red piping, and some white pants. Namjoon’s gesturing over his shoulder and speaking quietly, and he turns and steps aside as he hears you come in.

The moment he does, and you can see the man behind you, it’s like the sun breaking through a patch of cloud. Nurse Park is sitting on the inspection bench, one foot up on the shelving underneath, the other dangling off the side, and lounging back against the wall with a lollipop in his mouth like he owns the place.

He glances over at you, and sits up, pushing the lollipop to one side of his mouth, bulging his left cheek. “Did you fall over?” he asks you softly, and once he starts interacting with you instead of Namjoon, a wave of shyness seems to overcome him. He shakes his silvery hair forward, so it hangs a little over his eyes, and his eyes squint with a sweet smile.

You hold up your limp wrist to him, wincing slightly at the twinge of pain the motion causes.

“Let me take a look at it, sweetheart.” He shakes his head harshly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you sweetheart, old habit from talking with the kids. May I look at it?”

You give your assent, and he waves for you to come closer and sit on one of the chairs by the little storage cabinet in the corner. Once you do, he hops off the examination table, gesturing for Namjoon to take his place, and gives his lollipop once last hard suck before taking it out and dumping it in the trash.

Your eyes can’t help but fixate on the way it’s left his tongue and inner parts of his lips stained a deep red, and you force yourself to stop staring at his mouth and look him in the eyes as he grabs another chair and scoots in front of you, widening his knees around yours so he can get even closer.

You cough lightly and bite onto your lip as he tenderly holds onto your arm in one hand and your wrist itself in the other. He wiggles it methodically in all directions, eyes regularly coming up to inspect your face for any signs of discomfort.

It aches a little, sure, but the way your eyebrows are furrowed isn’t a result of pain, but the reaction to his startling proximity all of a sudden.

“Does this hurt? No, okay, does this hurt? And this?” Your eyes wander over the dewy skin of his cheeks and the gentle slope of his eyes as he gingerly pushes down on the muscles and bones in and around your wrist. When he’s satisfied, he gives the back of your hand a pat and lets you cradle it back against your chest. He says what it is, but you’re not familiar with the Korean word, so you just assume it’s not serious.

“…so I’ll give you an ice-pack, and you just hold it like you are now, up high against your chest to reduce swelling, and you’ll be just fine, okay? Good girl.”

Your cheeks blaze up again and your gaze shoots down to avoid his.

He makes a cute surprised sound. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I did it again. Here, let me get my keys and I can take you home.”

You swallow hard and nod at him. Maybe living with a guy for a year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

TAGLIST Message me or send an ask if you wish to be notified every time I post a new chapter of Lost in Translation.

@xkookie-monsterrx | @xxsophie-raabxx | @xxqueenwxtchxx | @smartasserydotcom | @http-lostforever | @sunnysideupsmile | @berrytan | @sugamonster22

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

Skincare/ makeup culture ☕️

oooh. i’ll divide this post into two parts: makeup culture and skincare culture.

(1.) makeup culture.

i think everyone knows that I’ve never liked makeup, mostly because I had relatively bad cystic acne throughout high school, that reacted badly to all of the makeup that my sister used (but most particularly her l’oreal foundation). I think makeup culture is particularly harmful to young girls, like the makeup youtube channels that are run by the parents I suppose of 8 year olds, where the 8yo is the actual youtuber.

like don’t get me wrong, i know young girls like playing with makeup (I actually did when I was that age, funnily enough)….. but the fact that professional or just plain fucking ridiculously expensive makeup palettes are now being marketed to girls in bloody primary/grade/elementary school, is just fucking wrong. and yeah there’s the post on here about how some younger girls are finding themselves ugly when they don’t wear properly applied makeup or something like that. and that breaks my heart. why the fuck should a young girl be made to feel ugly if she can’t blend like josiemaycosmetics (I made that up btw idk any makeup channels besides Jeffree star, James Charles and that tatti woman tbh) and can’t afford the bullshit Too Faced $98 powered foundation, $65 Sunday Riley blush (I roughly remember the price of this particular blush bc my sister bought it for me for my 20th birthday so that I could according to her “look good for uni” but I never actually used it lmao… and it’s no longer sold here in australia) and Kylie Jenner’s overpriced lip kits and idk Smashbox “photo finish” primer priced between $AU23-$AU55????

like I had this bad enough in fucking HIGH SCHOOL with my sister telling me that I’d “never get a boyfriend” or “never get a date for the formal/junior prom” if I didn’t spend hundreds of $$$$ for a good face of makeup and didn’t spend hours and hours learning how to do my own makeup. or how last year for my uni grad, she made out that I’d ruin my own uni grad if we didn’t spend $250 on the makeup artist we got for me….. where I unfortunately found out that my skin reacts to MAC products 😭😨 bc the MUA used MAC concealer and foundation. my sister also expected me to remember the setting spray the woman used for my makeup, when I was there from like 4:30am till like 6:45am and i was barely fucking awake. the setting spray probably could’ve easily cost over $100. let’s be real here. like why am I expected to remember shit that early in the morning???

one of my least favourite things with makeup culture is that you’re not meant to fuck it up in any way, shape or form. like when my sister did my makeup for my two high school formals/proms (year 10 & year 12) she constantly told me not to scratch my face while she was doing it (but it made me itchy, hooray for L’Oréal being shit lmao)…. not to fuck it up while I ate at those events….. and she didn’t let me eat before my uni grad last year bc “you’d definitely fuck up your makeup. don’t you dare scratch your face at all today!” like for someone who has hypersensitive/highly reactive skin that she has to scratch when it’s itchy….. and also loves fucking stuffing her face with food….. expecting me to never touch/scratch my face and to practically starve myself to preserve the integrity of my makeup (that i ended up paying for some in the end anyway) for an event is fucking stupid and over-restrictive.

like i always hated the way that the kardashians ate on KUWTK bc it looked so fucking mechanical and whatever bc they had to obvs preserve their makeup while shooting and also look nice for the camera. like why the fuck am I expected to eat ~like that~ when I have a faceload of MU on???? FUCK OFF. I will scratch it off. I will smear the food all over my face (ok not really) and eat however I motherfucking want, thank you very fucking much. like for my uni grad last year I was up from 4am and my grad ended at like 12:30pm….. so I didn’t have food til about 12:35 when I left the hall. and the whole time while I was eating my sister kept reminding me to not fuck up my makeup that we’d spent $250 on. JUST LET ME FUCKING EAT WOMAN, I SWEAR TO FUCK. lmao.

the last thing I hate the most about makeup culture is that like….. I absolutely hate makeup like I said above….. but once I have it on I feel pretty and cry a bit bc I’ll just never learn to do it myself…. mostly bc I couldn’t be bothered…. bc I save hundreds, if not thousands of $$$$ from not buying all the bullshit essential items you need just for a ~basic no makeup, makeup look~, and bc my hands have never been steady enough to use some of the things, like false eyelashes and eyelash curlers or liquid eyeliner/normal eyeliner….. 

but yeah. I just hate that it makes me feel pretty???? but I also feel good and more natural without it???? and I’ll never like my sister’s comment that: “you’re the prettier one out of the two of us…. but if only you hurried up and learnt to do your makeup, you’d be even prettier” or some dumb semi-condescending shit comment she’s said to me like that before. like why is the only way a woman can be pretty (other than some clothes that make her feel good) by smearing 100s/1000s of dollars worth of makeup on???? like why the fuck am I expected to spend all that money when a good bulk of men will never bother with the male makeup trend anyway???? like why am I expected to act differently when I basically just have grown up face-paint on lmao???? I’ve never felt natural in makeup, I’ve always felt awkward and like…. not sound like an cringey edgelord emo kid…. but i never felt ~real~ wearing makeup lmao. just yeah.

but yeah I also understand makeup is an art and I appreciate that. makeup culture is so fucked on all sides for women.

(2.) skincare culture:

now skincare culture is different for me. considering that, like I said before, I had relatively bad cystic acne…. and I’ve since also developed eczema during the winter months….. so I’ve had to develop a good skincare routine over the years to keep my skin under control. but again, there are parts that I don’t like about skincare culture…. like women are typically meant to spend, again, hundreds and if not thousands of dollars on super expensive skin creams (some of which I’ve tried) to fix their fine lines, their laugh lines, their crows feet, their blemishes, their birth marks and cellulite…… the list truly goes on and on….. and on top of that (well this hellsite which isn’t entirely accurate) I’m, or we as women, are expected to teach all of that to men in their 20s???? like fuck off. why and how the fuck didn’t they get the fucking memo to look after their own goddamned skin???? like my 20s are already tiring enough, and now I gotta pass on important skincare advice to men, who could easily fucking find it themselves online???? lord help their asses lmao.

but other than the men bit…. yeah skincare culture is just as bad as makeup culture. like when Cosmo mag was still running in australia, more than half of the shit the women at Cosmo were advertising as part of their skincare routines were literally $300 night treatment creams or moisturisers; $150 facial cleansers; or $500 skin peels, or $600 appointments at dermatologists and skin therapies like electrolysis that I’ll probs never be able to afford. like one of the luxury brands that I LOVE (💖) is Mario badescu bc the two pimple treatments that i sometimes I use from them (the drying lotion and the anti-acne serum) are the ONLY two acne treatments that have NEVER made my face turn red and my skin peel off (besides a really good neutrogena one that Neutrogena discontinued 😭). every other chemist bought pimple treatment cream makes my skin peel off/itchy/turn red. but sadly the two Mario badescu treatments are priced over $50 if bought together (ones now $31 (formerly $28, this one’s great bc it dries clear), the other is like $26, this one dries pink). so the chemist bought ones like the ones by Clearasil or OXY10 are my saviours at $11.99-$12.99, even though they dry out my skin to buggery and leave big white marks on my face bc they both dry white lmao. but I’ve gotta suffer that for the price of beauty lmao.

also there’s expensive face washes (or skin care program packs etc) from Paula’s choice that I love.... but again they were like $35 for a 400ml bottle and $25 for a fucking 150ml or 250ml bottle. now the one i like is $20 for 177ml, which is a rip off. some of the other luxury things that I’ve tried (via free samples) that don’t work, like Kate Somerville (priced at like $65 and over), Philosophy and god knows what else that i’ve bought from Mecca Cosmetica, which is the Aussie version of Sephora in the past. and yes, for acne treatments, i’ve used pro-activ before. it was ok… but i never used it in high school, after the awful time we had trying to cancel our subscription to it back in the day for my sister lol.

also can we talk about the ultrasonic face brush systems that are still raging strongly??? like they’re also super rip offs, especially with buying replacement heads for $35 a pop. like I’ve had a Clarisonic for years (that I’ve stopped using, admittedly)…. the model was roughly $250 when I got it for my like 19th birthday. now they’re even more expensive at like $315 for the latest “clarisonic mia fit cleansing system” which is linked on the $315. or now there’s the foreo that costs anywhere between $75 (the cheapest model) to fucking almost $400… ie $395. the replacement heads for the clarisonic and i suppose replacement like pads or something for the foreo are meant to be replaced every three months “for optimum cleansing” or whatever. like $35 every three months is a lot to maintain after a while. also using the clarisonic added like 10 extra minutes to my showers/general skincare routine bc you’re meant to use it for five mins or whatever and then spend another 5mins washing it out to make sure that it doesn’t collect mould and buildup too much soap residue. it was just a lot of effort to use, even if it did make me feel like i had a better and deeper face washing routine.

and yes, i know there’s Lush. both my sister and i (but more my sister) were obsessed with Lush back in high school, after one of our sydney cousins introduced it to us. but Lush’s skincare stuff for pimples just never worked for us. it made me breakout more, actually. but their old apple pie and choc-orange lip balms were the BOMB. it’s a pity that they no longer make them tbh. their jelly soaps were fun to use and smelt nice too. i can’t remember much else about lush tbh lmao.

for face masks, i’ve found that store/chemist bought formula 10.0.06 or whatever works the best for my skin. but the push, especially again in cosmo and other places, to buy more expensive face-masks and like designer FMs that you should really ask a professional to use first imo, is fucking harmful, especially when you’ve got ones that take off the whole top layer of skin from your face (like the famous and the overly popular charcoal face peel masks), or so i’ve read. like it’s yikes out there. please be safe with these masks, ya’ll. and the same goes for making your own organic face masks, considering that i’ve seen posts on here about using lemon juice which is bad for your skin??? idk anyway. i also hate how with the face masks i buy, there’s about 6 different “skin-illuminating”/“skin brightening”/”skin detoxing” etc masks, that all essentially do the same fucking thing. just keep it at one and fucking go; for gods fucking sake lmao.

but yeah, skincare culture does suck just as much as makeup culture, considering that is heavily focused on women’s self-esteem and wallets…. and barely ever focuses on men. like it’s a double-edged sword tbh.

also as side notes: why the actual fuck are makeup companies still giving their makeup shades or makeup lines sexual names???? like i just found a fucking blush shade by NARS, in my research for this post, called “Orgasm”???? like what the FUCK is wrong with ya’ll??? like y’all actually have the fucking AUDACITY to really make 8 year olds say that in their makeup tutorial videos as well??? “our best selling orgasm collection” sweet lord. that sounds bad. y’all need to sort your shit out, and so do the people who name nail polish shades.. 

the other worrying general beauty trends that i keep getting on my facebook newsfeed are the teeth whitening systems like hismile and at home laser treatment machines… and then also the charcoal toothpastes to whiten your teeth. oh and also the facial skin “vacuums”, that suck out dirt/oil and your blackheads/pimples etc from your pores. stay safe out there everyone, and do your bloody research. don’t believe the reviews and the hype.

also finally: take your skin type and skin condition/(s) into account if you want to use any of the things that I’ve mentioned that I use/have used on this post. or that I’ve just generally mentioned, like the Clarisonic and the foreo. because what works for me, might not work for you. I’m not a skincare expert or dermatologist. check with your doctor or a skincare professional or whatever before you start using some of these things, even if you might think that it’s stupid & pointless to do so.

[bookandyarndragon]

I love my players

So I was GMing my monthly DFRPG game and this happens:

Our game is set right before Summer Knight. We've just finshed a major story arc and I wanted to run a third season Episode 0 to get a feel for how people felt after the drastic changes that happened in our last session. I'd only lightly preped so I had to wing a monster based on my players description. This is pretty normal for Fate. Plus once you get over the learning curve as a GM it makes the system a lot more fun to run.

The set up: the parent's of The Morrigan's Eyes, For Now(TMEFN) are in the burn unit at Presby in PGH. Their house caught fire in a highly suspect manner shortly before pc's were going visit. As they walk to a waiting room I have them roll alertness then ask the person with the highest score to tell me what they saw. So now I have an official looking lady doctor with no shadow. My thoughts went to some kind of powerful emotional vampire so I flipped open Our World to Lord Wraith's entry and reskined it on the fly.

The Practicing Angel(PA) managed to detect my new shadowless monster was up to no good. She botched her roll to do the "accidental" bump into the monster. This is where another of the fun mechanics in Fate comes into play. Instead of failing she chose to succeed at a cost. The creature realized PA was on to her and as a reaction triecd to drain the PA in a suprise round before the group could react. Instead of lust I picked mental exaustion as the emotion the creature fed on

Luckily The PA has high mental fortitude and only took stress. Now comes the rolls for initiative. At the top of the order is TMEFN, who decides she absolutly had it. In the process of finding a loophole out of her bargain with the Morrigan she'd discovered she'd been set up big time by someone other than her boss replace her centuries old wizard predecessor. Possibly since TMEFN was four. And someone yoinked her soul out of her body and held it hostage to get an unspecified favor from her boss. All of this happenec in the last 72 hours in game time.

THEFN suprises all of us at the table lands a fantastic social atack with presence. TMEFN goes into full emisary of power mode complete with change of hair color and the apperance of a blood red Medieval gown. Marching up to the creature she shouted "That's it, I've had it! You stop that right this instant!"

The thing is the creature dose. It filled it's moderate consequence with This is Above My Pay Grade and conceded the fight. Upon interagation we learn the creature is an anonymously hired paid assasin who is pissed off that she was unknowingly sent after the family of an Emissary of power. Mostly because the fee is several orders of magnitude higher and failure to disclose puts her client in breach of contract. It told us You may call me "Kira" then became a shadow and disapeared to go hunt down and eat her former client.

After the creature I made up on the fly dissapeared, another of my players, Modern Professional Celtic Hero(MPCH), makes a great Lore roll to identify this thing. Now I have no more of a clue what this thing is than MPCH's player does. So I flip the question back to him. After a moment of thought he comes up with this "Let's see it eas accedentaly created or summoned by an active fandom forum on the internet. Um, it's sort of the opisit of a dream eater. It eats your conciousness while you're awake. Lets call it a Lucidityphage."

At this moment we realized we just created an in-game creepy pasta assasin that came to life. Probably from the SCP. Also now i need to dust off my rusty writer skills and actualy give this creature a srory so I can stat it out properly.

[ocular-intercourse]

OC MASTERPOST

Alright, putting this together you really notice how old most of these characters are, theres a lot of cliched and coincidental stuff in there that i & others came up with when i was 15-21. Finn got the whole brunt of my edgy scene teen angst phase... but then again Asher is brand new and not looking any better so there’s that. Sorry children, i love the drama. Also all of them being queer men is absolutely just teenage me living out my queer male identity through them before i even knew it hasghj.

NAME/NICKNAME: Finnegan Bastien Jeong-Bak / Finn, Junebug (by his fans) (his terrible mish mash of a name is product of his parents forcefully pushing their heritage away to make it easier for Finn to fit in, once they reached his sister they were more relaxed about the problem)

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 27 years / 17.04.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: French Canadian / Asian (South Korean)

BASED ON: /

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / bisexual (probably pan if he’d be more informed)

FAMILY: FATHER | Jin Hee Jeong | 48 years | janitor | very difficult relationship, for most of his life he considered his father to be a good dad till the drinking started and then the abuse, hes still not quite ready to let his relationship with his father go, so he keeps in contact, which often led to fights with Shawn, as well as the fact that Finn still has not outed himself in front of his father out of fear of rejection

MOTHER | Yeon Soo Bak | 47 years | owns a café | similarly rocky, they are now at a good point but he knows his mother struggles with his identity and life choices, so much she tried to manipulate a lot of things in the past but learned to leave that be, he is grateful towards her for leaving his father when she did. he bought her a café cause he loves her so much

SISTER | Sun Marise Haywood, née Jeong-Bak | 24 years | stay at home mom | he was always close to his sister, she just assimilated into his friend group in high school, and still is an important part of his life, or is again, they had a phase of not talking after some jealousy issues regarding his relationship with Shawn and her friendship with him, Sun is very protective over her brother and his mental instability and does her best to keep him healthy. That includes a very strict anti-Shawn stance, regarding the pain he has caused her brother in the past. Sun is happily married and has a daughter, a fact that somewhat relieves Finn, at least someone in the family that fulfills their mother’s wishes.

NIECE | Molly Florence Haywood | 4 months | A literal baby. Finn famously is not very keen on children, especially babies and goes out of their way. His niece however managed to steal his heart, plus he can just give her back to her mother when she becomes troublesome, the ideal arrangement. He likes to spoil her.. not that she would care at this point.

HALFBROTHER | Bryant Cole Reno | 7 years | student | His father’s illegitimate child with an American prostitute. Classy. But not Bryant’s fault. Finn learned of his existence when he was 3 and has since then sort of taken part in raising him, not that he would ever consider that to be true. He is very sensible to his brothers living conditions considering the bad stuff he himself experienced growing up, and does his best to ensure him to grow up happy and healthy, which includes denying him contact with their father (despite not pulling the same measures for himself). Bryant is a smart kid, overachieving, Finn already feels like he is dancing circles around him, and truly does not know where the kid gets it from.

FRIENDS: Noteworthy are on the Canadian side: His childhood/youth best friend Kitty (deceased), almost equally important Logan & Colin (all three of them share a brain cell), his ex-girlfriend of 5 years Emily (rocky long distance friendship atm), ex-affair & close friend Raphael (his voice of reason). On the American side: Close friends Randy (trashfire bff) & Jade (cinnamon bun), his ex-boyfriend of ~4 years Shawn (heartbreak!!).

S.O.: No one atm cause he is, even after 2 years apart, still very much desperately hung up on Shawn and not getting over that breakup anytime soon. Learning that Shawn is in a new relationship has thoroughly pulled the rug out from under him and left him questioning why Shawn managed to move on so much quicker (and if the other guy is more attractive than him). He also struggles very much with the fact that Shawn has made extremely positive progress in the two years without him (unable to see that the same is applicable to himself too).

I guess that still deserves an entry here:

Shawn Alexander | 28 years | currently Barkeeper & Musician | Shawn comes from a rich family and therefore has the polar opposite starting conditions to Finn, but nonetheless experienced many shared interests, but also miseries, from abusive fathers to drug use. With two general distinctions: While Finn’s mother acted after discovering the abuse, Shawn’s mother stayed complicit. While Shawn escaped into his heroin addiction, Finn developed an strict anti-drug stance after Kitty’s death. They were a volatile mixture, the good times were extraordinarily good, the bad ones catastrophic, with Finn quickly acting out when cornered and Shawn reacting aggressively, their fights were often ruthless. Finn has considered many times since they broke up that maybe people who love each other, even this strongly, are not necessarily automatically meant to be together. That does naturally not have any impact on his feelings or his lacking ability to act reasonable when it comes to emotions.

OCCUPATION: Professional Tennis Player (out of spite)

CHARACTER: self-confident | loving (to ppl close to him), mostly distant or rude to ppl he does not know | does not hide his moodiness or discontent just to be polite | charming | energetic | passionate | ambitious | helpful & loyal towards his loved ones | savior/helper syndrome | self-sacrificing | engaging | resourceful | proud | vain | irritable | competitive | playful | needy | keeps problems to himself | mayor problem with authority figures | moody | hyperactive | has NO patience for stuff that does not interest him/seem unimportant to him | messy | unforgiving | stubborn | struggles with feelings of guilt towards many things | has bipolar disorder and changes between episodes of excessive confidence, an appetite for risk, high motivation and sex drive, and episodes of apathy and depression with reoccurring suicidal ideations, but he has in later years learned to manage these mood swings better with a mixture of medication and rigid routines

ABILITIES: highly athletic, good cook, excellent singer & musician, good technical understanding (esp. towards cars), fluent in french (native) & english, minor knowledge of korean

INTERESTS: cooking, music, sports, cars, video games, podcasts about movies, games, techincal innovations and whatever obscure topic interests him at the moment (podcasts, games and other media is stuff that he only recently discovered for himself, since his job does not allow for a lot of time with his friends, so that’s his compensation)

APPEARANCE: 6′3″ tall and muscular (but too lean for his liking, he cannot built up mass for the love of it), dark brown eyes and nearly black hair, currently a little over chin long but worn in a bun or ponytail (he feels like short hair makes him look like a child, but he’s also just too busy/lazy to get haircuts every couple of weeks), a prominent scar runs through his left eyebrow, he has multiple tattoos, a flower pattern on the inside of his right arm, a skeleton with a laurel wreath on the inside of his left arm, a geometric pattern just above his ankle on the inside of his right leg, more geometric patterns on his shoulder blades and a moth in the middle just below his neck

PLOTPOINTS: born in Montreal to south korean parents | best friends with Kitty (Catherine) | best friends with Logan & Colin | struggles in school because of growing up with multiple languages, hyperactivity and later problems with authority figures | free time either spent on the streets with his friends or with his father at his job as a mechanic | relationship with Emily age 13 | growing behavioral issues at first misunderstood as ‘only’ adhd | starting music (drumming, later other instruments) & sport (tennis) to make him tired | dedication to sport & music as compensation for bad schoolwork, to show he’s at least good at something | father loses job, becomes driving instructor | move to poorer area of town | added stress in family setting | with 15 diagnosis BPD after behavioral issues became increasingly dangerous | Finn becomes aware of his father’s drinking problem, often being the one to take care of him during and after these times | with 16 affair with 25 yo Raphael (in hindsight Finn finds this somewhat alarming) | more time spent away from the family, more time on the streets with minor criminal activities & drug use (in varying degrees, Kitty taking heroin being the strongest) | school work evens out through good grades in subjects he was interested in vs bad grades in everything else | with 18 family vacation in New York, Finn meets Shawn, they have an ons | break-up with Emily, after she finds out about his affair & one-night-stands | after Finn & the others were away for another vacation they come back to find out that Kitty has used the opportunity to kill herself with a planned overdose, Finn never reads the good-bye letter, he spends the next months in a state of emotional crisis and gives up on finishing school, when he can get out of bed he spends his time with sports as an distraction | Jin-hee’s alcoholism & job clash as he and a student get in an accident with alcohol in Jin-hee’s system, he loses his job and the trial, now having to pay heavy compensation for the damages, pushing the family further into poverty | Finn and his father start to fight more and more, with Jin-hee’s condition worsening and Finn provoking him, either actively, or by choosing not to carry his weight in the family and generally being an undesirable son, resulting in Jin-hee venting his anger by hitting his son | with Finn turning 21 his mother definitively discovers what had been going on, she leaves Jin-hee in an ugly divorce, takes her kids & moves to New York | despite everything Finn keeps contact with his father and has somehow managed to mostly forgive him | Finn & Shawn meet again & quickly end up in a relationship | when Finn learns about Shawn’s heroin addiction he wants to end things, but decides to give him a chance | what follows is 4-5 years up and down with two break-ups, one after a series of misunderstandings and meddling from Yeon that end up with Finn cheating, another one after a burned Shawn learns, after giving it another chance, about things that Finn has hidden from him, such as Jin-hee’s illegitimate child that Finn himself has only recently met, and a row of events unfold that lead to Shawn attempting but failing suicide | when he learns about it Finn declares Shawn as dead in his eyes and tells him he never wants to see him again | another emotional crisis for Finn and again he throws himself into sports to drown out the bad thoughts and make himself too tired to think, only this time he meets the right people and with the right support ends up gliding into the professional sports world | he spends the next two years building up his carrer like a madman and thoroughly enjoys being occupied at all times, as well as for the first time in his life having a stable and strict rhythm to his days, a healthy sleep cycle & positive reaffirmation that help with his mental stability.. oh, and he’s pining for Shawn of course

BONUS INFO: I created him when i was a wee teen but wrote him in different RPGs almost till today, so there were a lot of different versions and revisions. Originally he was a caucasian redhead, it was only years later that i put it together that much of his family dynamics and some of his character would very much fit a minority/immigrant narrative. He was always french-canadian, but in the beginning he moved to England instead of New York (fun fact: it was Canterbury, which is why i later used the city for Teddy instead). Really sad to have lost Shawn’s accent, but honestly it makes much more sense for the city to be so much closer to home. If i would call any of my OCs my main OC it would definitely be Finn, he is my obsession, there’s next to no days where i don’t imagine him in some sort of scenario, AU or canon. I am however hesitant to use him for anything, since part of his story, meaning Shawn’s character, belongs to my friend Mel, who i’ve lost contact with. When i was last writing him in a RPG i used korean actor Kim Bum for his faceclaim, and i still like to reference his pictures, look him up and you’ll see what i mean with Finn looking younger with shorter hair.

NAME/NICKNAME: Wendell Theodore Parker / Teddy

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 19 years / 23.09.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: British / Caucasian (or whatever the god side counts as)

BASED ON: originally comes from a Percy Jackson RPG

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis Male / gay

FAMILY: FATHER | Julien Samuel Parker | 45 years | cardiologist

MOTHER | Demeter | goddess of harvest, agriculture & fertility of the earth

STEPMOTHER | Katherine Marie Parker | 44 years | lector

HALF-BROTHER | Bradley Howard Parker | 24 years | author (alias J. B. Baxter)

HALF-SISTER | Amanda Carrie Parker | 20 years | student of cultural sciences

+ a shitton of half-siblings on Demeter’s side

FRIENDS: Rufus Whitmore | 19 years | Son of Apollo | Actually Zeke’s best friend and No. 1 in the ‘kick Zeke in the ass to make him stand by his feelings club’ which is why Teddy is phenomally thankful for the support. Maybe due to his dad Rufus generally has a very healing, hardworking and good-natured personality, though combined with a bit of a superiority complex.

Caspar Renier | 19 years | Son of Dyonisus | With Dyonisus practically being the party god and all Caspar is very much the agent of chaos in Teddy’s life. He lives for experiencing new and exciting things and likes to incite the same in others. While Teddy loves all things safe, Caspar brings the risk, but somehow the two manage not to annoy each other, but to balance things out. Caspar is Teddy’s best friend since the early days of the academy and reason for many good things that Teddy would have otherwise been too timid about.

Riley O’Donovan | 20 years | Son of Ares | Basically Teddy’s arch nemesis since the early academy days. For some reason he has decided that Teddy was just the right person to push around and pick on, supported by his twin and another half-brother. Teddy, being the pacifist that he is, and generally trying to avoid confrontation, did his best to stay out of their ways, telling himself that fighting back would only make them fight harder. Teddy was with them when the academy was attacked and Riley’s brothers died. Together they fought and survived. At their next meeting they quietly recognized that the experience had connected them and to let bygones be bygones. They are developing an akward friendship with lots of guilt and grief, that’s mostly consistent of helping each other out and, weirdly enough, unquestionable trust through shared trauma.

S.O.: Zeke... i don’t remember his surname, since Teddy is a RPG character he is obviously another person’s character, i’ll try to think back on more info. As a Hermes son he is the charming wayfarer type person, with a guitar on his back and a taste for freedom, i believe he was a year older than Teddy. The relationship is rocky at best and Teddy feels unloved most of the time but his intense feelings for Zeke make him want to hold on and hope for the better just for a little while longer.

OCCUPATION: Student

CHARACTER: honest | childlike | naive, gullible & foolish | clumsy | ambitious | enthusiastic | family oriented | safety & harmony loving | loyal | nervous & talkative when unsure in social/new situations | sulky & stubborn when unhappy | imaginative | resourceful | huge need for affection & validation | unknowingly competent in dangerous situations | meek | kind | helpful | justice loving | superstitious | clingy | hyperactive | chaotic | defensive | diplomatic | jealous | emotional | caring | empathic | curious | fair | friendly | happy-go-lucky | generous | sociable | lively | manipulative | self-indulgent | open | pushy | romantic | tolerant | impatient, but unpunctual | fear of loss | playful | wavering | brave when it counts | pacifistic

ABILITIES: [supernatural] control over plants and weather in the immediate vicinity, too much use of his abilities quickly causes hunger, headaches, nausea & exhaustion | an integral instinct about the beginning and natural end of lives, when he concentrates he can tell a person’s age, or if they are close to the end of their lives in case of a natural death. he chooses not to use this ability | his control of plants is quite trained, changes in the weather are mostly out of his control & follow violent mood swings. They show themselves as changes in temperature in his immediate vicinity

[other] low abilities in sword fighting (he shows little motivation because of his pacifistic nature, but has good instinct when it is necessary), slightly better at archery & hand to hand combat, good at riding & general animal handling

INTERESTS: monsters, he has an affinity for anything monstrous and creepy, in fiction & reality, as a unusual choice for Demeter children he wants to work with monsters in some capacity in the future | animals | plants

APPEARANCE: unkempt wavy to curly blonde hair in various states of darker blonde to bleached to grown out color, darker blue/green eyes, 5′10″, cycles through being slightly underweight & healthier depending on his mental state, his clothing style has no apparent rhyme or reason and consists of anything he likes, mostly color- & youthful, wears a leather necklace with a coin pendant at all times. he chooses to be mostly clean shaven, but has a surprisingly strong beard growth

PLOTPOINTS: born, officially, as the 3rd child of the parker family based in Canterbury, happily growing up in a loving upper to middle class family | only trouble so far is the inability to sit still and concentrate on school classes | with 14 he learns of his true nature and the world of gods & demigods | spirals into thoughts of being an outcast and disruptive in his family, considering his father’s infidelity and his ‘mother’s’ will to live with her husband’s illegitimate child | decides to run away after witnessing a fight between his parents while on vacation in America | gets picked up by Zeke, another runaway child, and as it happens another demigod | after sharing their stories Zeke reunites Wendell with his family against his will, Teddy initially resents him for it | the family reconciles, Wendell’s ‘mother’ confirms how much she sees him as her own son | Teddy starts to visit Gaia Academy during his regular school holidays, where demigods get educated and trained according to their special circumstances eg. myths, monster attacks & magical abilities | his brother begins to write about a fictional character based on Teddy’s life and has success with a series of children’s books | reconciliation & later close friendship with Zeke | big homesickness | a bad first romantic/sexual experience, the adjustment to the world of myths & the stress of constant change between regular school & academy life leads to an overwhelming sense of loss of control, which results in an eating disorder that he learns to control via therapy and his family’s support | dreams of becoming a monster herdsman despite his lack in battle prowess due to his strict pacifistic beliefs | is bullied by 3 Ares sons during most of his time at Gaia | gets in the awkward situation of falling in love with his close friend and self-proclaimed heterosexual Zeke, feels the situation is too hopeless and the friendship too precious to do anything about it | pines for years | drunkenly kisses Zeke after receiving a thoughtful birthday gift (aforementioned necklace) | panics about said kiss after Zeke steers clear of him for the rest of the week | turns out Zeke just had a whole week of gay panic™ and needed some time to come to terms with maybe possibly being in love with a guy despite not usually being attracted to men | Zeke confesses & agrees to a relationship | the thing is messy, with lots of sneaking around and no pda, even in private, allowed as Zeke struggles with a religious upbringing and acceptance of his new identity | as a whole Teddy deals poorly with this behavior but endures for the chance of being with his hopeless yearlong never gonna happen crush | meanwhile the world of the demigods is in chaos with wars between different pro- and anti-god-fractions | when an anti-god-organization attacks the academy, Teddy is forced to fight and kill to survive next to his longtime bullies | he & his loved ones survive but afterwards he is not only traumatized by his own actions and the things he has seen, but also the fact that he of all people survived while better fighters died | while the academy reorganizes itself he spends time at home and struggles with the discrepancy between his vs his family’s experiences and not being able to share what happened with a medical professional to work through his trauma | disillusioned he decides it is time for him to mature, when the academy reopens at a new location he dedicates himself to more battle training and after reconciling with the one surviving bully through their shared experience even asks the ares son for personal training

BONUS INFO: Oh, Teddy boy! He also went through several RPGs and rewrites. The first one was a pretty basic Percy Jackson RPG, with Camp Halfblood and all. In that version Teddy was a child of Hebe, and chose to leave his home in one of the many Springfields in America for the safety of his family, since monster attacks suddenly started happening. On his way to the Camp he met Zeke, they had a little road trip and fought their way to their destination. It was a lovely story of hurt/comfort with Teddy being helplessly lost and scared and Zeke taking care of him. An unlikely team that strangely worked out. The whole runaway thing in his current story might not make a lot of sense, but it was our way of incorporating the original runaway/road trip story that was near and dear to our hearts. I’m not sure why i ended up making him a brit when we switched forums, maybe because i missed British Shawn and had to make up for it. The new RPG obviously had a lot of changes on the Percy Jackson Story, it was just inspired by the idea of demigod children but that was about it. Again, since Zeke is not my character i am hesitant to work with this, also i would like to make the setting more original, though i guess there’s only so much you can do with demigods, maybe creating an entirely new pantheon idk. That’s the problem with RPG characters i suppose, they are rarely uninfluenced from other people’s creations, and often based on preexisting works, but i refuse to give up on him. When i first created him i had Boyd Holbrook in mind. (Which is very fun considering his look in Logan, i imagine later Teddy to look like that and what a big fucking ooc contrast that would be to him rn.) Here is an avatar that captures the Teddy feel during the original road trip very well, bonus the matching Zeke ava (obviously portrayed by Jackson Rathbone), bonus bonus a Rufus ava, ft. Aaron Taylor-Johnson:

NAME/NICKNAME: Avery Sanders / Ace of Spades (a sort of artist’s name), Ace

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 22 years / 15.05.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: American / Caucasian? (or whatever, the god thing, plus he does not know his dad)

BASED ON: said Percy Jackson inspired RPG

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / asexual (/ poly/panromantic?? he does not know either or really care honestly it’s all just whatever)

FAMILY: FATHER | Michael Hide | deceased

MOTHER | Nyx | goddess of the night, daughter of chaos

HALFBROTHER/LEGAL GUARDIAN | Dale Sanders | 42 years | ?? occupation: lying bastard weasel?? | Their relationship sure is something. In short Ace IDOLIZES his brother big time, though he would never say those words out loud but it is very fucking clear to everyone. He is like a miniature Dale, or trying to be, or trying to surpass him. This makes the last developments in Ace’s story very very complicated. He’s still kinda brainwashed enough that he’s still holding on to the hope that he’s just not informed enough to understand his brother’s motives.

FRIENDS: Benedict Bovine | 21 years | Son of Morpheus | Ben & Ace were roommates in the academy, and no friends for a long time. The Morpheus son was just too much for him, too happy, too optimistic, too intrusive, too annoying. But that’s probably exactly the personality you have to have to stick with Ace and not give up on actually truly befriending him. Somewhere along the way they ended up being best friends which Ace is secretly desperately clinging to because not too many people bother with trying to get close to him even with him being actively unapproachable. Ben has gained a special status in his life and therefore special treatment, namely experiencing Ace’s more positive characteristics and rare insights behind the mask.

Elisabeth Fendi | 22 years | Daughter of Nike | As a Nike daughter she likes challenges, and befriending or even dating Ace certainly is just that. But she had positive reinforcement by looking at Ben’s & Ace’s relationship and knew the goal was achievable. Long story short Ace lost a bet and had to go out with her, and actually kinda enjoyed her ambitious, competitive nature. She whittled him down to becoming friends at least. They certainly do not treat each other overly tender, but that suits both of their nature’s just fine. Elisabeth just kinda started hanging around Ace & Ben and the three are now sticking together.

S.O.: Well not sure actually, there was one version of the Story where Ace dated a girl named Liz, and Elisabeth certainly has some of her characteristics. But it definitely occurred to me that Ace himself has no desire to actually pursue a romantic or sexual relationship of any kind, but has no problem having sex if it just happens to happen. In another version of the story Ben, Ellie & Ace end up having a threesome under somewhat dramatic circumstances and i’ve been playing with the idea of both Ben & Ellie looking to enter a polyamorous relationship with Ace and him just kinda going along with it cause it’s whatever to him and he loves and trusts them and likes being close to them so it’s not a huge difference to him anyways.. which would just be Ace clumsily trying to show his genuine feelings for once and learning how to express affection, both physically & romantically and probably failing a lot. I think i’m sticking with it but i’m not sure about the circumstances yet.

OCCUPATION: Student

CHARACTER: callous | unimpressed & unfazed | has built up a pretty impenetrable unapproachable wall & layers of alter-egos before anyone can end up actually getting to know HIM | lone wolf | slightly misanthropic traits | paranoid & suspicious | fake superiority complex, talks himself into feeling superior to cover up insecurities | cool | hardy | streetwise | casual, mostly outwards to reaffirm his cool, relaxed persona | stoic pokerface | disrespectful unless respect is earned (mostly through undeniable talent in skills he considers worthy) | rebellious, tactless, provoking | trouble with authority figures | might not show his emotions but has no trouble speaking his mind even in unhelpful ways | critical, towards himself and others, actively looks for flaws | show-off | willing to learn & commit himself to bettering his abilities at all times | proud (of his abilities and his reputation) | long-sighted, analytical & strategic thinking | intuitive | resourceful | has talent to lead but decides not to, does not want responsibility over the actions of others | keeps his word always, to a fault, even when joking | persistent | humorous, ironic & sarcastic | underneath his fake persona actually awfully sincere, it just takes time to get there | pathologically loyal | protective, self-sacrificing & caring towards close friends | despite everything and unbeknownst to himself actually undeniably morally good & heroic

ABILITIES: [supernatural] control over shadows | sensing nightmares | Ace is rather trained in hiding in or concealing his movements with shadows, depending on the time of day and the contrast in shadows he can completely hide his presence, the later it gets in the day the easier it is. The control over seeing other people’s fears and nightmares on the other hand is completely out of his hand, it usually happens against his will and leaves him with an aftertaste of said fear that he then carries around for a couple of days.

[other] excellent speed & sword fighting | years of hellish training with his brother have left Ace with an uncanny reaction speed and instinct towards incoming danger, his battle prowess has led to many monster encounters that at this point are neither hard nor surprising.. and honestly kinda fun | musical talent | Ace has lost his heart to electronical music and uses much of his free time to create his own tracks under the pseudonym Ace of Spades. They are mostly rap & electronic mash ups and remixes of popular songs with his personal spin added to them | composure | at any given time Ace has trained himself to stay calm and not show his feelings, so much that at this point he can hardly stop it, which leads to many frustrated people in his life who constantly have to guess what he’s feeling or if he’s even feeling anything at all. It has also made him a practically unbeatable poker player

INTERESTS: music | big city life | close quarter combat | technical gadgets esp. for creating music  | challenges | irony | birds | movies & games & writing reviews | dumb irony, he lives for it, he has picked the elective prophecy class that is meant for the demigod children that actually have some sort of fortune telling ability, just because he thinks it is funny to sit between these actually clairvoyant people as a clearly non-gifted person trying to read something in tea leaves or whatever that has no reason to be true, he goes very long ways for stupid jokes & stories that might end up amusing just himself

APPEARANCE: light blonde hair cut into a buzz cut for convenience, almond shaped light blue/grey eyes, with his 5′8″ a little under average height with a broad build, average weight, his athleticism is countered by bad eating habits and most of his hobbies consisting of siting around for an extended amount of time, almost perpetually wearing a pair of ray-ban sunglasses (he’s light sensitive and likes to hide his eye-movements, but also just thinks it’s cool, as an added bonus it seems to provoke people), his clothing is mostly athletic and casual but he also enjoys throwing people off with unusual pieces, often seen with baseball-caps front or backwards facing, generally not a lot of effort put into his appearance aside from maybe considering what would make the look ironic, also owed to lack of money, lots of his clothes are worn out hand me downs from his brother peppered with the weird shit you can get at thrift stores

PLOTPOINTS: Since his father died while his mother was pregnant she had to improvise and ended up leaving the baby at one of her other son’s doorsteps | Dale, probably rather incompetently, improvised and with lots of peculiar quirks, raises the kid in a tiny, rundown Chicago apartment supporting both of them with occasional part-time jobs | With his knowledge of the world of the gods Dale decides to prepare his half-brother early | Once he learns that that is not normal Ace spends some time worrying about his brothers sanity, regarding the unusual habit of teaching a kid sword fighting and testing his abilities with surprise attacks, but enjoys himself too much to question it (he never thinks about that the constant vigilance and dedicated training might be considered somewhat abusive living conditions for a child - might not have been healthy but it DID make him stronger and that was surely a good thing Dale had in mind, very normal, totally okay.. he is incapable of seeing, or wanting to admit to his brother’s flaws) | They live off fast-food or anything they can get their hands on, with occasional unpaid electricity bills or similar poor conditions, but with a strong sense of solidarity | School was not his favorite thing, he had to get out of his - in his eyes - fun unusual living conditions to sit still and be well behaved and listen to weird stiff adults, and the children made fun of his ragged clothing and general otherness | Spends his free time exploring Chicago, roaming the streets, getting into minor trouble here and there, or with his brother, fighting or watching him make music or play around with electronics, or watching movies, playing games | As is tradition, learns he is a demigod with 14 which honestly does not really come as a huge surprise to him, at least his brother did not turn out to be some weird doomsday nutjob and had a reason for all the sword fighting | Gets kinda excited in hopes of getting along better with other demigods than he did with the other human students.. turns out him being a demigod was not the problem in the first place. Does at least find some like-minded people in his half-siblings. | At home he starts part-time jobs to support his brother, starts making music himself, has several blogs with movie and game reviews, and of course the usual duels between him and Dale, which he never once wins | After graduating regular school with 19 he is not very motivated to continue his training at the academy, but is basically tricked into finishing it anyways, by his brother suggesting he would win this one since he himself has never graduated Gaia. At last, something to be better at than his brother! | When the academy is attacked by an anti-god-organization Ace fights easily and competently.. till he is faced with fighting the one person he has never beaten, his brother. He fights him anyways, conflicted by the feeling of betrayal and sheer disbelief that this could actually be happening. Naturally he loses and ends up skewered through his torso by his brothers sword. When he is unconscious he gets saved and healed by Apollo children, and the fight is over when he wakes up again. He first of all tries to find out if his brother was maybe captured or killed, but finds no trace of him. | When he returns home while the academy reorganizes he finds the apartment empty, half hoping for his brother to come home so he can confront him, his top priority being to learn why his brother has been acting that way because he still refuses to believe that he actually tried to kill him, and rather wants to think that Dale must have had SOME kind of reason that would make all of this okay. | Dale never returns. Ace bitterly sells all of Dale’s belongings to pay for the bills of the apartment that he is suddenly sitting on all by himself, which makes his home very sad and very empty | Ellie and Ben visit him, well aware that Ace’s entire worldview has been shattered and not trusting him not to do something reckless [enter possible threesome here?] | Ace starts to obsessively try to find out about Dales whereabouts and the group he was working with, both Ellie and Ben being annoyed and worried about him doing this on his own refusing any help or interference | Ace manages to find what he believes to be a temporary hideout for the organisation and some documents that he hopes to find further clues in | When the Academy re-opens Ellie & Ben convince him to go back there, with Ace secretly just hoping to hear more about the official measures of the demigod world that have been put in place to find and stop the organization | He shares the found information with what is basically the equivalent of the police in the demigod world, and exclaims to be eager and capable to join any deployment, but is of course refused | Instead he silently plans to take off on his own again, hoping to find his brother for answers or revenge, depending on the outcome

Okay, but here’s the FUN part of the whole story, something that Ace is not even aware of anymore: When he is 18 he finds out about his brothers activity in the anti-god organization (their name is rubicon by the way) and is as always immediately willing to copy his brother and join them, regardless of their shady morals. Thing is, they have a selection process where they have an oracle check potential candidates, turns out the oracle decides that Ace’s heart is just too good and pure in the end to make him an effective member. They alter his memories, fill them with a normal summer of an 18 year old Ace, and send him back home none the wiser that he would have absolutely done the exact same things he found so impossible for his brother to be doing that it ruined his entire conception of the world. Fun. I hope he does not find out.

BONUS INFO: I cannot begin to describe how funny it is to read Ace’s character sheet. Sounds conceited maybe, but every time i reread it, which is maybe once every couple of years, i make myself cry from amusement. It’s so stupid. It is completely written in his voice and it is fucking hysterical, he is such an idiot wow. His vita starts with a rewrite of Will Smith’s Prince of Belair rap, and that’s just the beginning. I wish i could show you but it’s in German so that’s probably useless for most of you. But please know that i really fucking love it and am amazed that i wrote that at some point. I always had trouble figuring out how i want him to look. I believe i used Garrett Hedlund as a faceclaim on the RPG site, but it was not 100% fitting. Dacre Montgomery’s portrayal of Billy in Stranger Things has some Ace vibes, but also not entirely. Imagine their lovechild i guess. I also never planned on him being asexual, the connection to his name was not planned at all, it just hit me a couple of months ago out of nowhere and i immediately knew it was true. Of course he is asexual!! Also i have not yet decided whether his brother is an absolute cold bastard, or if Ace’s instincts about him having reasons are right. Regardless, Dale’s treatment of Ace is not okay from the very beginning. That’s where this whole story started, cause i found it so interesting for the idealized bigger brother that just seems to be cool and fun to actually be somewhat or very much abusive, e.g. Dave & Bro Strider in Homestuck who were very much the stepping stone here. I really liked Bro when i first read it as a baby teen, and then later saw the discourse over him being abusive, and only then did i realize shit you’re right in actual real life that stuff would be ptsd inducing wow, in that very moment i myself was Ace and had my weird idealized image shattered, so i wanted to make a character that could show how easily it is to overlook this stuff sometimes. Also totally just forgot for a while how sad a lot of his character is, ppl did not like him even before he made himself hard to be liked so he’s very distrusting and negative towards people for a long time.😥 Better make up a weird persona for people to dislike at least they’re not disliking my actual self cause they never actually get to see it. WHELP most of my other characters are either fun or tragic depending on the situation, Ace is just both simultaneously at all times

NAME: Asher ? [he is still unfinished since i never used him for anything so don’t mind the questionmarks]

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 21 years / 06.07.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: American / Caucasian

BASED ON: /

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / gay

FAMILY: FATHER | ? ? | 42 years | multibillionaire business man / sociopath criminal | their relationship can very much be described as a hostage situation, there is nothing pleasant here, his father obsesses over his legacy and the idea of what he wants Asher to be and Asher resents him with a burning passion

MOTHER | ? ? | 41 years | unfortunate trophy wife | there is not much of an actual relationship here, since he started art school they have pretty much not talked a single word, he resents her for being distant and quiet and complicit in his father’s behavior

SISTER | Claire ? | 22 years | various creative part time jobs | the one that luckily got away!! Claire dodged a major bullet and got out of there as soon as she could, living her dream as a independent artist in various fields from writing plays to performance art, Asher adores her & would never tell her about the truth of his situation since she got out of there unscathed, they call each other regularly, but don’t see each other as much as they would like to, she is a big reason for his own interest in art

SISTER | Stella ? | 5 years | Kindergartener | Stella is loud and quick and knows no boundaries, a happy energetic little girl. Asher probably spoils her. 

BROTHER | Leo ? | 5 years | Kindergartener | Stella’s twin brother but the polar opposite. Timid, soft-spoken and kindhearted. Asher probably spoils him too. Asher is also fiercely overprotective in regards to his brother, cause he knows how his father likes to treat his sons. Luckily he also knows that his father would takes his sweet time before revealing his true self, but he dreads the possibility of his father involving his brother earlier nonetheless.

FRIENDS: May ? | 21 years | photography student | awfully loyal, May comes from a rich family herself and can therefore understand or excuse a lot of Asher’s less pleasant traits, she is too stubborn to let him push her away and is glad he has mostly given up towards her, now she just has to get him to treat others the same way. knows he has troubles with his father, but does not know the specifics since Asher would rather take that info to his grave to protect her. is worried, always, since Adam disappeared, but has no other solution but soft encouragement for Asher to move on

S.O.: Devin ? | 20 years | animation student | Half Mexican/Half Afro-American. Anxiety kid, moves to his father’s new family & his sister because they live closer to his future art school, falls in love with the wrong white boy. Big nerd, big introvert, all about anime & games, spends more time on the internet than anywhere else (sound familiar anybody?🙈). Romanticizes the wrong behaviors. Draws, a lot, any given time, super talented, Asher envies him. Big cuddly, kind, somewhat shy and self-conscious, cannot say no or be mean most of the time. Just 100% good soul. Shows Asher the wonderful world of fiction and other entertainment cause that guy apparently grew up in a cave. Asher is 100% hurt and Devin is 100% comfort, Asher feels bad about that. Devin is impressively patient and supportive and the sole reason Asher can breathe again. Sometimes. Asher does not know what he could possibly be bringing to the table but Devin seems content, Asher does not understand why.

OCCUPATION: Student of Photography/Economics Night school

CHARACTER: i feel like Asher needs two separate character descriptions since he’s living in extreme circumstances that have greatly changed his characteristics over the course of a year or two, but i’m sticking with Asher today, just know that he used to be happy, carefree, outgoing, a huge charmer, even a flirt, remnants of some of these more positive traits can still be found if you catch him in the right moment.. and then there’s the things he mostly pretends to be that don’t really belong there either, but i guess that shows how others perceive him

mean | snobbish | intelligent | dedicated | disciplined | hard working | gloomy | moody | prone to breakdowns & panic attacks | snippy | judgmental | cocky | angry | volatile | creative | a good eye for aesthetics | charming if needed | standoffish | pushes people away by being deliberately cruel | generous | righteous | pacifist | caring | puts other’s safety before his own to extreme measures, self-sacrificing | puts others first in general | detail oriented | meticulous | fussy | spoiled | controlled when he has to be | overtly loving & affectionate when possible | excitable | goes to extremes in anything | quick & easy liar | hedonist | tense | intense | stands up for others in threatening or unjust situations | thoughtful | pathologically vigilant, paranoid & distrustful | enduring | ambitious | careful | cynical | unboastful | on a dnd alignment scale i would actually put him on either lawful or chaotic good, he wants to do the morally right thing in all situations | guilt riddled & self-punishing | loyal | devoted | confident

ABILITIES: His father’s irrevocable antiquated notion of how a person of his status has to be educated resulted in a flashflood of tutors from the moment Asher was capable of learning things, involving classical music, several languages, riding, sailing, debating and the more exceptional choices of self-defense through various ways including knife and gun handling, owed to his father’s choice of a rather dangerous lifestyle. The only ability that grew out of his own interests is anything regarding photography. He also has the uncanny ability to switch personas in an instant, he can go from cold asshole to so charming that it puts others at ease, to collected proud superior son in a second, depending on what is needed, these different modes are crucial for his survival.

INTERESTS: Art | Music | Culture | Traveling | Minor Drug-use | a budding interest in manga, anime and video games of all things, thanks to Devin

APPEARANCE: Groomed snobby rich boy that looks down on you. Black hair, pale blue eyes, 6′0″ tall, lean. Judging by his clothes alone obviously wealthy. Mostly somewhat sophisticated with lots of dress shirts and classy cuts. A serious young man! Contrasted by more relaxed clothing choices in his personal space. Mostly black & darker colors. Tattoo of a dead raven on the inside of his right underarm, he hides it in front of his father who hates it. Unquestionably a pretty boy™ but Asher has grown to detest his looks, avoiding mirrors or photographs. He looks too much like his father. Has dimples if he smiles brightly but nobody gets to see them anymore.

PLOTPOINTS: The most entertaining way to start the story is probably through Devin’s POV, and then explaining Asher’s behavior with his life story. Very quickly: Devin, moving to his father to visit the art school in an nearby town, is searching for a new therapist he had been visiting for social anxiety, through a work connection his father organizes an appointment with an prestigious therapist before the schoolyear starts. He gets curious about this well dressed tense looking guy he sometimes meets in the waiting room, and starts to hope to see him more often, but never manages to work up the courage to say anything, till one day the guy storms in mid breakdown to interrupt Devin’s session and demands that the therapist had to see him immediately. Devin uses the opportunity to get his attention for once and earn some bonus points, graciously offering him his session. He even gets a thanks later when they meet at the pharmacy, so he’s happy, and hopelessly crushing on this dude. With help of his sister he figures out that the guy is actually local celebrity, billionaire son Asher, that just happens to visit the very same art school Devin will be visiting soon. So Devin very much looks forward to that and spends lots of time daydreaming about getting together with Asher, who actually kinda seems pleasantly surprised to see him again in the school setting. Asher is distant, but friendly at first, and thanks to Asher’s  friend May who is welcoming and inviting in Asher’s stead, Devin somehow luckily gets roped up into the group that sometimes hangs out with Asher, with him graciously paying for any expenses. Devin manages to overlook Asher’s more unpleasant sides, willfully focusing on the good stuff instead, not wanting to give up on his little fantasy just yet, with Asher warning that he would and should come to hate him eventually. What follows is a wild up and down of Asher either being sweet or an complete asshole and Devin being thoroughly confused yet intrigued, the guy is obviously troubled, often leaving class early in a panic or not showing up at all and generally looking like a nervous mess on some days, which just makes Devin want to get behind the reason for everything. On one of the sweeter nights he manages to get a kiss out of Asher, only for him to show his cruelest behavior yet the following days, either ignoring him completely or reacting aggressively.  [Cue Asher’s Story:]

Born in a cozy coast town to a filthy rich family. | Firstborn son therefore in his old-fashioned madman of a father’s brain his legitimate heir, instead of his two years older daughter (lucky her tho) | Father puts every breath of his being into grooming Asher to be his successor, which includes high pressure, expectations and next to no free time from an early age. No failure allowed. Knowing nothing but this high pressure environment Asher just complies and honestly somewhat enjoys putting maximum effort into things to please his father and his own ego. | Somewhat sheltered upbringing due to wealth & little free-time | Easy time in private elementary school where a lot of pre-existing effort lets him relax a little more. He makes a row of superficial friends, but still spends most of his time studying, only socializing when socially expected. | Still very success-oriented in high school, but learns to relax a little more around newly made friends of less stressful backgrounds. | Gradually without really realizing when it began ends up in a relationship with lower upper class boy Adam, they later discuss and decide they started dating somewhere around age 15. | The relationship is accepted and free-time allowed as long as Asher continues to perform exceptionally well in everything. | Both boys share their love for art, while Asher starts getting interested in photography, Adam focuses on painting, both inspired by and potentially aiming to later visit the prestigious art school in their hometown | The twins are born! Asher is instantly smitten with the little creatures and proceeds to be a loving brother | Asher’s father starts to take him to business meetings and other professional settings as insight into his later life as his father’s successor. | Asher, most likely not unaffected by his wealth & prominence of his family, has some successful exhibitions of his photographs and gains a small amount of recognition in the art world. He decides to pursue the profession full-time in the future, not entirely revealing the decision to his father just yet, who lets him play around with his hobby as long as he brings home achievements in that area as well | goes into prolonged discussions with his father regarding his wish to study photography, who eventually caves under the condition of Asher simultaneously visiting business classes on weekends or in the evening | Both Asher and Adam get admitted to the art school (it needs a fancy name i just dont have one yet) and study there after their graduation from high school | The meetings Asher’s father brings him to start to kinda rub Asher the wrong way, as some criminal elements get revealed, his father’s comment being that it was time for him to learn about these essential things as well. Asher is morally appalled, but has not even begun to realize the extent of his father’s criminal activities, to which he begins to introduce him more and more in the following years. | Asher eventually fully understands that his father is head of a self-built mafia-like organization that seems to reach most of America in some way, and that that is the true succession his father is grooming him for. While Asher might be able to agree with some of these duties, he soon realizes that most of what his father is expecting him to do from now on are things Asher is not willing to do under any circumstances, like brutally punishing people for offenses against the family in varying ways, that Ashers father insists on carrying out personally to further his ruthless reputation and control over his underlings, partners or rivals. | For the first time in his life he fails to meet his father’s expectations and actively goes against orders which results in his father pressuring him in any way he can. When Adam suddenly disappears without a trace when Asher is 18 he immediately has the uneasy feeling that his father was involved, he did not however anticipate his father actually truly murdering his son’s boyfriend to set an example of what happens when Asher disobeys. | Asher has a complete breakdown, spends some time at a mental health facility, and comes to the decision to tell everything to the police, only to have them call his father and have him pick him up. Further tries to tell any authority about what happened end in similar ways, his father seemingly having control over everything or always being one step ahead. Eventually he threatens Asher that if he continues, he would have him convicted of Adam’s murder, having plenty of psychiatrists to falsely attest to his guilt. Asher refrains from trying to out his father, half because he was scared of the consequences, half because if he truly would go to prison - which at this point did not eve sound bad to him - his father would most likely just shift his attention to his younger brother instead, which ends up as the main intervention to Asher being able to escape the situation in any way. | From now on Asher spends his time terrified and traumatized, trying his best to please his father in ways that do not include physically harming other people. At the same time he starts violently pushing every friend or acquaintance away, to make sure his father would not find another person to use as motivator and punishment. May being the only remnant of his former friend group that refuses to leave his side despite him lashing out against her here and there in hopes for her to finally get it and leave him alone. | A year later there’s this black guy about his age that apparently has the same therapist and ends up in the same class at school and is genuinely nice to him without asking for something in return which hasn’t happened in a while and feels so nice he forgets himself and gets carried away, being nice right back, and unfortunately can’t help himself having lapses in his self-control towards this guy over and over again, cause he’s just so kind and warm and welcoming, and it feels so so nice, but instantly regretting it as Devin gets clingier and bolder, but still not being able to stop entirely, till he stupidly kisses him one night and immediately has nightmares of his father murdering Devin, which allows him to draw the line and finally be as repulsive towards the guy as he should have been from the beginning. I have various potential scenarios in mind for the following  but they mostly go like this: Devin, trying to figure out why Asher is like THAT, learns about his long-time boyfriend disappearing last year and never being found, with the police claiming there were signs of him just running away to a bigger city, but Asher and Adam’s family believing that something must have happened to him. He deduces that Asher has developed a massive fear of abandonment (which in a way is true but way understated) which is why he keeps pushing him away when he gets too close. When he confronts Asher he just gets furious at the mention of Adam and eventually gets so worked up that he starts talking about Devin not understanding ANYTHING and that he has no idea in what kind of situation he could end up in when he sticks too close and that he should just fuck off, but Devin naturally just picks up on the weird shit and Asher sounding increasingly scared, so he keeps poking at the topic till Asher finally breaks down and tells him that his father is basically a sociopathic criminal mass-murderer and being Asher’s friend let alone boyfriend paints a big fucking target, and then he just ends up having to explain the entire situation in hope that Devin learns and just stays quiet but most of all stays the fuck away. Long story short: he doesn’t. He vows not to leave Asher alone with this any longer, and now that he knows that Asher actually likes him there’s no way he would stay away anyways. Asher still very much tries to convince the other one to leave him be, but to no avail. The rest is them finding an arrangement that works out with lots of secrecy and sneaking around and pretending to not even know each other (more or less successful), Asher panicking a lot, and dealing with a shitton of guilt, but kinda learning to live again and not just function miserably, and them trying to find a solution to Asher’s problem that does not involve people potentially dying, and Asher just dreading the next time his father calls him in and what he might expect him to do then. I have more plot points planned out but i’m just gonna keep them for myself for now. 😋

BONUS INFO: First i gotta say Asher is very much a character i created to cope with stuff when i was feeling really fucking low last fall. I made a character that’s hanging on by a thread, because i was, so i could at least use these feelings for more lifelike daydreams and give them more of a purpose and direction. The initial idea that sparked the storyline was a person falling in love with a clearly unwise choice, which ended up being Devin crushing on the dude having a mental breakdown at the therapist’s office (genius boy). Somewhere along the line the main character shifted to Asher because of the aforementioned reasons. Devin’s POV is probably really more entertaining though, since he gets to unfold all the mysteries that Asher is keeping from him. Inspirations? Uhm, i guess Life is Strange (a mixture of Nathan & the Prof, and the art school setting), the general John Wick world and Veronica’s family in Riverdale, god also laurel’s family in htgawm

[realkermit]

This is long but like plz read it

So like what’s with school

They say that grades don’t matter and everyone is good at different things and then judge everyone the same way

Let’s take me for instance

I’m

Good at science

Good at social studies

Bad at math

But where’s reading??

Well, I’m in the 99th percentile, an above college level, and I have the scores to prove it. However, my comprehension is low. I’m bad at writing down what exactly happened unless I’m super focused and have read the material many times.

That being said, my scores are all ones (instead of a letter system we use numbers 1-4, three being average) and it’s hard for me to get back up from those.

I’m a ‘gifted and talented student’ so I’m in the challenge program. I’m doing work above my grade, which mean ACTUAL ALGEBRA IN MIDDLE SCHOOL.

The problem with this is that the program is treating us like we have the mentality of someone older than us. But we are still kids and we sometimes don’t know or don’t have the resources to deal with the workload and expectations of our teachers and parents.

And we CAN’T GET OUT OF THE SYSTEM.

There’s only one challenge class so we’d have to drop two classes to get out of one class and even then dropping any class and moving to another one is a whole ordeal by itself.

And when you throw mental illness into the mix it gets reallllll messy. I’m not professionally diagnosed at all, and as far as I know none of the ‘challenge’ kids are. (I’m my class) But most of us have trouble paying attention.

I:

Fidget

Have an abnormal sleeping schedule so I’m awake at night and tired during the day

Space out frequently

Get emotional quickly

Doodle

And my mind goes extremely quickly so sometimes my class doesn’t move at the pace I need it too

That’s why I propose we teach kids by their learning style and their level in different classes instead of the standard age group teaching.

This way, there’s smaller classes and students can have the material they can understand.

There’s three main styles of learning that I’m aware of:

Tactile (touching, actively participating)

Visual (pictures and reading)

And Auditory (hearing)

By seperating students into these categories and then going by level we can more easily have each students needs met.

Take tactile students like me. In tactile classes we can bring in physical maps and diagrams, and do more hands on learning instead of what we do now, which is mainly auditory and visual.

In auditory classes we can have records of old classes in the library so everyone has access to past lessons. We could also listen to the material before actually doing it and reading class would be easier.

In visual classes there would be more videos on how to do things as well as teacher instruction. There would be more visual diagrams and pictures to go along with the text.

Maybe I’ll add to this if I get more ideas but like for now we can start with recording lessons and not yelling at kids fidgeting