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problematicfavesareproblematic · 4 years ago

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Into My Body, You Just Fold

Floyd Talbert x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, optional!smut (poorly written dirty talk, lite name calling/degradation), OOC Tabbykins, mutual pining, drunken love confessions, Reader has an unfaithful husband (but OMC isn’t the worst), period-typical restrictions of women’s rights, not vv good writing tbh, and no-no words (per usual)

As terrible a person it made you to admit as much- you didn’t think you could imagine life without Floyd Talbert.

You’d promised yourself at a young age that you’d never be one of those women who needed a man to complete them, far too disenchanted by the sight of your friends losing their fire and spark upon marrying their husbands. Your father had raised you with the same permissive encouragement as he had your brothers, something that horrified your mother so much that she eventually stopped inviting you to her happy home with her new husband altogether.

Now that you were older you realized that marrying Frederick had been your desperate attempt to win back your mother’s love and approval, much more than your marriage had been for any sort of actual love towards your husband.

You’d tried, though.

Frederick was funny and charming and could get along with anyone. He was driven and supportive, and he always made sure that you knew how much you meant to him. You should’ve been able to love him easily and completely.

But you didn’t- You couldn’t when, more often than not, he came home smelling of liquor and another woman.

Sometimes several other women.

It became abundantly clear to you that, as much as you meant to him, you clearly weren’t enough to keep him from straying.

Which is why you found your love for someone like Floyd so….unexpected.

Upon first meeting him you’d hated him, obviously. He was just like Fred, no- he was worse than Fred because at least Frederick made some effort to hide his infidelities from the world.

If anything, Tab flaunted his conquests like a badge of honor. It made your skin crawl.

Not that your dislike for him did anything to deter him, of course.

On the contrary, he seemed to take it as a challenge.

It also didn’t seem to matter much that you were married. The ring you wore on the same chain as your dog tags seemed to deter any other potential suitors- and if for some reason that didn’t dissuade any overly-confident troopers, your marksmanship and reputation nipped any nonsense in the bud.

Not Floyd Talbert, though.

It didn’t matter where you two were- Tab made it his personal mission to win you over. He flirted with you on the boat ride to England, in the plane as it soared towards Normandy, in the middle of a gunfight on the way to Eindhoven. Hell, he’d even tried to charm you while recovering from a stab to his gut.

The boy was shameless.

If you had to narrow it down on a timeline, things had become more sincere and less childish in Eindhoven- when you’d gotten mobbed by a group of drunk and curious men who’d wanted to see more of the lone woman sniper of the 506th.

Floyd had appeared from nowhere and helped you wrestle your gun away from one of the idiots who’d attempted to divest you of it. He’d wasted no time in taking his own helmet from his head and placing it onto your own upon realizing that yours had been taken, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and guiding you from the throngs of people while you shook from leftover adrenaline.

He’d kissed you that day after he had been unable to get you to refocus on him and stop you from hyperventilating.

You’d stood stock still for a few seconds, mind scrambling to process the gentle feeling of his lips on yours as well as the fact that you were no longer tossing in the sea of people you’d been lost in moments ago.

When he’d pulled back, you could only gape at him like an idiot.

“W-why did you—?”

Floyd’s rough hands had come up to hold your face, taking a deep breath of his own before replying.

“I, uh…” he had stammered for a moment before shaking his head quickly and clearing his throat. “I was trying to get you to snap out of...just trying to get you back.”

After that, things had progressed pretty quickly.

He’d stopped seeking out any female company other than yours- not that you’d noticed at the time- spending the few nights of freedom he was afforded with you while you would ritually take apart and clean your rifle, talking with you about anything and everything. He had a knack for making you laugh harder than anyone ever had before.

Sometimes you’d talk about serious things, like your families or past loves or the foolish hopes you both had had before the war.

Every so often, he’d ask you about Frederick.

Thinking about Fred made you uncomfortable. Unhappy.

But because Floyd had been so honest with you, you tried to be honest with him as well.

No matter how innocently the questions began, they always ended with Floyd furrowing his brows and saying your name softly enough that you couldn’t help but hesitantly meet his imploring gaze. He’d always ask some variation of the same question:

“Why did you marry him?”

Most nights you didn’t answer. Some nights you were able to deflect the question well enough that eventually you both fell into a different conversation altogether. One night you’d been in a bad mood and snappily asked him an uncomfortable question of your own.

“Why do you have such a hard time keeping it in your pants whenever a pretty girl is around?”

That always shut him up. And, despite the fact that you could feel the upset rolling from Tab in waves, he never left.

That night, you had taken his fist between your hands and uncurled his fingers. You had felt his eyes on you as you purposefully dug your thumbs into his palm to ease the tension you found, eventually turning his hand over so you could carefully trace your fingertips over his war-calloused knuckles.

“That was unkind,” you had whispered, guilt churning your stomach when at the hurt you knew you had caused. His grey-blue eyes were curious as you hesitantly looked up at him, and once you had met his gaze you’d almost lost your train of thought. “I’m sorry, Tab.”

You hadn’t been expecting him to kiss you again, but even as he had you didn’t immediately stop him.

It was only when he had started to pull you closer that you quickly pulled away. Your breathing had become heavy, and while you didn’t let go of his hand you still said his name admonishingly under your breath.

“You shouldn’t do that,” you’d whispered, unable to look at him and electing to look at your feet as you brought your hand up to press your fingertips against your still-tingling lips. “You- you know I’m….you know why I can’t—”

“I know,” Floyd’s voice was low, and despite the fact that you weren’t looking at him you’d been able to see the grimace on his face. “I just….I know. I’m sorry, Y/N”

You’d cleared your throat, pulling your hand away from his and giving him a tight smile.

“No need to apologize. Let’s just forget about it, yeah?”

Without waiting for his response, you’d gone back to the table where you had been working on your gun, desperate for a distraction.

“So, uh, what was it that you were saying about your brother? He’s graduating high school soon?”

Despite Floyd’s willingness to play along, you had been unable to stop thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours. You wondered if this was what happened to Frederick- if this rush of adrenaline after doing something you shouldn’t was what he was chasing each time he went home with someone else.

You’d never known guilt could be so heady. In that moment, you’d started to realize just how dangerous this friendship with Tab could be.

But even then, you’d also had a sinking feeling that you weren’t going to be able to give him up, That you were no better than Frederick.

Taking your oiled rag back into your hands, you’d scrubbed the metal o-ring of your piston and tried not to think too hard about what this revelation said about you.

It had been during a 48-hour pass that he’d asked the question about Fred for the very last time, after you’d each finished a bottle of sweet French wine while sitting on the floor between two beds of the hotel room.

That night, you’d given him a sad smile and gestured half-heartedly with your canteen as you brought it to your lips.

“Because I thought it was what I was supposed to do. Because…. I didn't think I was allowed to say no.”

He’d stared at you sadly, clenching his jaw a few times before clearing his throat and letting his head loll back to rest against the side of the bed.

“Ask me again.”

You’d frowned at him, confused as to what he was asking you to say. Your silence must’ve given away your lack of understanding, because he laughed humorlessly before closing his eyes.

“

Ask me why I can’t keep it in my pants….'round pretty girls….”

“Oh-kay…?” you’d said slowly, leaning back and stretching your legs out in front of you. “Why can’t you keep it in your pants?”

With a bit more effort than it probably should’ve taken, Tab twisted his body so the back of his head was resting in your lap, the strands of his hair ticking the skin of your thighs where your sleep shorts had bunched up.

“Same fuckin’ reasons.”

In the dim light of the hotel room, you’d been the one to kiss him, your lips trembling with heartbreak on his behalf and complex (if not unbidden) emotion. Floyd sat up so you weren’t having to hunch your body over to reach him, carefully wrapping an arm around your waist as he shifted your bodies so neither of you had to strain to reach the other. Despite Floyd being Floyd- he didn’t kiss you greedily, the plush of his mouth soft as it followed your gentle rhythm without any sign of wanting more than you were willing to give.

Once he’d realized that you had begun to cry, Tab broke the kiss carefully, and he had reached a gentle hand up to brush your tears away, a sad smile crossing his face.

“Now, isn’t that a sight?” he’d whispered. “Never had a girl cry for me before. Don’t think I like it much…’specially when that girl’s you.”

He’d allowed you to cry for him, allowed you to cry for yourself and all of the hurt and pain you’d been holding inside of your chest for what felt like decades. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you had woken up the next morning you felt his fingers combing through your clean hair as you both lay sprawled out together on the floor. At some point, one or both of you had pulled the bedding from the bed’s mattresses and tangled yourselves in the soft fabric.

“Is it bad that I wish I’d met you first?” Floyd had asked, his voice a warm rumble as you rested your head on his chest.

“Yeah,” you’d admitted, scratching your nails lightly across his shirt-covered stomach. “But I’m much worse for agreeing with you.”

As he turned his body so he was leaning over you, his hand came up to rest on your collarbone while his eyes danced across your face.

“You’re beautiful….too beautiful to be ruined by someone like me, I think.”

You’d frowned, bringing one of your hands up to trace his mouth with your fingertips.

“Oh, Floyd- you can’t ruin what was already spoiled.”

Tab then lowered himself so his nose brushed against yours, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“Can’t I?”

Even thinking about it now broke your heart.

Now, nearly two years after the war had ended.

Now, living in the house you’d once shared with Frederick.

Now, as you lay in bed and watched Floyd brush his teeth in the bathroom of the home you shared.

Fred had last written to you five months ago, telling you that he was probably going to be in Japan for at least another six months before he could even apply to come back to the states.

Despite the fact that he claimed his senior ranking in the Navy and his responsibilities to oversee prisoner exchanges were the ‘sole reason for his prolonged absence, you knew that it was probably more a case of him not wanting to return to a life of expected monogamy that kept him away.

Not that you minded one bit.

Not when you had Floyd.

You hadn’t expected him to want to stay with you, in the literal sense or in the more metaphorical sense of commitment, yet he’d barely let you finish your offer before he agreed emphatically.

If you were truly being honest with yourself, you hadn’t imagined that he’d even want to stay after you’d slept with him the first time, shortly after returning to the states.

But he had. He had stayed.

You’re ripped from your thoughts when you realize that the sound of Floyd brushing his teeth has stopped, and when you shook yourself from your trance you realized that he had caught you staring at him. Judging by the smug look on his face, he’d finished getting ready for bed a while ago, and when you begin to blush he crosses his arms across his chest and leans against the doorframe.

“You know, ma’am,” he smirks as you clear your throat and pick at your nails embarrassedly. “It’s not wise to stare at a man like that unless you’re willing to face the consequences….”

You snort a laugh despite yourself, furrowing your brows and looking back to him with a dumb grin on your face. “Oh yeah? And what consequences would those be, Sir?”

His eyes darken with a flash, having made it very clear long ago how much he liked it when you called him that. You cannot help but smirk at his clear shift in arousal.

He pinches his bottom lip as he considers you- something that you couldn’t deny made your heart race with dark promise. Wetting your own lips, you lean back onto your elbows and watch him watch you.

Quirking his brow, he tilts his head and pushes himself from the doorframe to stalk to the foot of the bed and brace his arms against the mattress so he’s nearly leering at you.

“Oh Lovely, I think I’m gonna have to show rather than tell.”

~Smut interlude, doodiLEEdedoo~

You shook your head in amusement, a smile breaking across your lips as he crawled his way up your body- his softening hands smoothing your silky nightgown up your thighs and stomach as he did so. A low, pleased curse rumbled low in his throat at your lack of underwear, smiling against your skin as he ducked down to kiss your hips and soft stomach while completing his journey.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before I convinced you to stop wearing underwear to bed,” he says warmly, encouraging your thighs over his own while he kneels between your legs.

You can’t help but scoff at the wording of his observation.

“Yeah, if that’s what you’re calling ruining all of my expensive undergarments with your impatience, then yes Floyd, you’ve thoroughly convinced me to forgo underwear.”

With an easy familiarity, Tab slips his hands under your nightdress and ghosts his blunt fingernails over the swell of your breasts, smirking at the goosebumps his touch elicits across your bare skin.

You lift your shoulders off of the bed enough to bring the bunched-up nightdress up and over your head before tossing it somewhere on the floor beside you, allowing your eyes to drift shut as he bows his head to kiss at your nipples in near-reverence. His hands map the rest of your body in a cycle that only he can predict, the sound of his skin brushing against yours paired with the warmth of his palms and mouth relaxing you in a way that no hot bath or soft bed ever could.

Floyd groans as you rake your fingers through his hair, allowing you to guide his face up to yours for a slow, imploring kiss before one of his hands slips in between your legs and massages at the lips of your sex.

“Was I taking too long, Sweetheart?” he asks against your lips, his voice growing rough with need. “How long have you been this wet?”

You don’t answer, choosing rather to roll your hips into his touch. Your breath catches in your throat at the first swirl of his middle finger over your clit, something that he does again with a smug hum against your lips.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” he reassures you as he wets his cock with your arousal. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll make it all better.”

Whoever said that slow sex couldn’t also be filthy had clearly never met Floyd Talbert.

By the time he’s flipping you onto your stomach, you’ve been brought to the teetering precipice of release three times- his mouth and fingers and cock working you up while he kissed the sweetest admonishments into your skin. Tab called you needy, cockhungry, and wicked- all while kissing across your skin with such a sweet contrast to his words that it made your head spin.

When he finally, finally pulls your hips up and begins to piston into you, you’re already so delirious for him that you are pleading for him to let you cum- something that only serves to make him grip your hips harder and groan in anticipation.

“Dirty girl,” he grits out as he bends enough that his forehead can rest between your bunched shoulder blades, the line between admonishment and praise blurring headily as you feel that familiar flutter building in your lower belly. “Are you going to come for me? Can feel you shaking for me like a good little whore….”

You barely have to ask for more before he grips your sex possessively with one of his hands, your orgasm tearing through you and stealing your breath as well as your capabilities for speech.

Floyd, whose curse is drowned out by the rush of blood to your ears, follows you quickly over the edge- grinding out as much of his own release as he can in between your legs before collapsing atop you.

Almost as an afterthought, Tab slips himself from your body, rolling to lay beside you as you both come down from your highs.

“So good,” you’re barely aware of him panting out. “You’re so fucking good, Y/N….”

You blindly reach out to drape your arm across his waist, incapable of returning the praise just yet.

He knows, though. You know he does by the way he sighs happily beside you.

~End of smut interlude, doodiLEEdedoo~

“Y/N?”

You look down your body to where Floyd's head rests in the valley between your ribs, your fingers having been lazily combing through his overgrown hair for the past twenty minutes.

“Hm?” you reply, your other hand snapping out to grab one of the pillows near the top of the bed and folding it beneath your head so you can watch him.

Turning his head to press a kiss on your skin, he looks up at you lazily. When you smile down at him, he returns with a content grin of his own.

“Can I ask you something?”

Raising an eyebrow, you narrow your eyes teasingly. “I don’t know, Floyd….can you?”

You nearly shriek when his fingers dig into your sides, rolling your lips together in an attempt to quiet your laughter as Floyd bestows biting kisses up your sternum while you wriggle beneath him.

“You’re such a brat sometimes,” he grumbles as he takes your face in his hands, unable to keep the smirk from his lips. “Lucky for you that you’re a good lay….”

Rolling your eyes, you nod your chin at him.

“Just ask me already, you jerk.”

His wicked expression softens, eyes scanning your face as you look up at him. The beginnings of a knot start to twist in your stomach, feeling the first drops of anxiety begin to stain your blood.

“Floyd…..what’s wrong?” you ask, not liking the way he suddenly electing to look at your mouth rather than into your eyes. “Is everything—?”

“Would you ever marry me?”

Your eyes widen at that. That had certainly not been what you were expecting him to ask you.

Taking in a deep breath, you consider his words for a bit before answering immediately.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him, because you did. No, what gave you pause was all that marrying him would entail- the greatest obstacle being that you were already married, and unless more things had changed in post-war America than you realized, polyandry was still illegal. Not to mention the fact that, upon marrying Fred, anything you had once been able to call your own was now- at least legally speaking- his.

You didn’t even have any right to the house you and Floyd had been living in. It, along with everything inside of it including you, was Frederick’s in both name and law.

And that was what scared you the most- the idea that, should you divorce Fred, you’d be penniless. Homeless. Destitute. You would have nothing.

But, as you looked into the blue eyes of the man you loved more than anything in this world, you realized that you wouldn’t mind any of that at all.

Because you’d have Floyd Talbert.

With a heavy sigh, you sit up so he doesn’t have to lean over you any more- taking his face in your hands and giving him a smile.

“I’d have nothing to offer you, you know.” You grin a little wider at the confusion on his face, brushing your fingertips over his bottom lip as you continued. “No savings or car or house for you to come home to at the end of a long day?”

As the wrinkle in his brow smooths, you know that he knows what you’re really asking him. Bringing his own hand up to mess with the ends of your loose hair, he pouts for a moment.

“Hmm, that’s a tough call, Y/N,” he says with a faux seriousness, tilting his head consideringly and narrowing his eyes at you. “I really like this bed frame—”

You nod, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing. “It’s a nice bed frame-”

“And the mattress? Best thing I’ve ever slept on.”

“I’m sure. All that built-in lumbar support cost a pretty penny, too.”

Smirking openly now, Tab brushes his nose against yours. “Still not the best thing in the house, though. I’ve gotta say, the pretty girl who lives in it takes the cake in that regard.”

Cupping your hands around the back of his neck, you pull him in for a deep kiss, the both of you almost clicking your teeth together several times because of the stupid smiles on your faces. When you pull back, you peck a quick kiss on the tip of his nose before sitting back enough to look him full in the face.

“If I could, I’d have married you already.”

The smile he gives you is nothing short of breathtaking.

“Yeah?” he presses, biting his bottom lip like an excited kid.

“Yeah, Floyd. I really would.”

“Good,” he says simply, carefully slipping from your grip enough to shift back down so he’s resting his head on your stomach. “Maybe I’ll ask you one of these days.”

Looking down at him fondly, you let yourself lay back so you can grin up at the ceiling.

“Who knows, Floyd Talbert,” you say quietly, heart feeling so full it could burst. “Maybe I’ll even say yes.”

“Good.” he grumbles.

“Good.” you agree.

~ ~ ~

(HELLO YIKES AND SORRY MY DUDES I’M PMSING AND DEEP IN MY FEELS BUT THANKS FOR SOLDIERING THROUGH THIS PILE OF YUCK!)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @liebgotttme

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #floyd talbert x reader #floyd talbert imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

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discnchant · 4 years ago

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WANTED CONNECTIONS

Okay so I’m really bad at plotting and I never got around to like writing out wcs on my intros, which prompted me to make this post (sorry to post a random ooc post on the dash). I’m going to pin it for easy access but below the cut I have a series of wanted connections / plot hooks per each character I play so if you want to plot with any of them, we can have a starting point. Hmu on discord to discuss further!

LARK ANDERSEN

fellow marine enthusiast — someone who is a fan of the ocean and it’s creatures etc, someone who would share the love of the deep blue and all the tales surrounding it. they don’t have to be a sailor or the child of a mermaid to appreciate the waters that surround them.

enemies / rivals — perhaps someone who passes judgement on the andersens due to being less traditional, with a lesbian daughter and a sailor for a son, someone who thinks a mermaid shouldn’t be considered a proper lady. or maybe they just have opinions about him. whatever it be, lark’s good nature does nothing to sway them to think of him and his family in a positive light.

prospective sailors — despite some people’s opinions, it was considered a very noble career path to become a member of the royal navy during the 19th century. being a sailor on board a royal vessel instantly elevated a man to gentleman status. lark is always speaking highly of the life on sea, and maybe this has spurred some interest in your character. and maybe your character wishes to be the first female naval captain as well 👀 1 Spots TAKEN by Teddy La Bouff; 2 spots remains

former lover — someone he had a very brief romance with one time he docked home for a couple months. lark…. possibly forgot about it, especially now that he’s married, and there’s a likelihood it was a shallow romance, one that was potentially mostly physical. now it’s just awkward.

barfly — in light of his complicated marriage, lark finds himself frequenting the poison apple pub a little more often than normal for a drink. he claims to be in the southern parts of the city to check in on his fellow sailors, which is partially true, but he’s found a good drink alone helps him soothe the discomfort that ails him as well. but he’s not always alone. he’s struck up a weird acquaintanceship with another frequent patron to the pub and it’s creating a quiet sort of camaraderie between them.

SHIPPING: closed

HENRY CHARMING

a naive young lady — someone who maybe doesn’t know or isn’t willing to believe henry’s less savory reputation, who ends up charmed by him and courted by him without realizing his insincerity. rip sorry. TAKEN by Ansley Radcliffe.

former / current lovers — people who have or even continue to spend time with the not-so prince charming, who perhaps doesn’t have a moral compass and doesn’t mind getting physical with him. it’s just about sex and nothing more. alternatively, someone who was once tricked into bed with him who is perhaps is still angry with him. 1 spot TAKEN by Melinoe Papatonis; 2-4 spots remain

fellow scholars — someone who also attends the university and studies all sorts of things. they have scholarly debates and hold each other intellectually in a high regards.

actual friends — guys it’s not that hard, he isn’t that bad. 2 spots TAKEN by Theodore Fortin and Eadric Pendragon; 3 spots remain

SHIPPING: closed, potential for midship

BRIAR ROSE BASILLE

past suitors — men who previously attempted to woo the aurorian rose to little avail. perhaps an unexpected friendship formed from the failed courtship, or there is disdain and belief that such a young lady could be so “proud and haughty” as to deny them, or maybe just a mutual awkwardness at how poorly or disastrously the flirtations happened.

enemies — another beguiling young lady who is likewise competing for a good match, someone with whom briar rose shares backhanded compliments with whenever they meet, to the discomfort of anyone in attendance. they are constantly verbally sparring, comparing themselves, etc and just don’t get along well at all. could become enemies to friends.

protégé — her only success has thus far been in an illustrious career in art, with paintings hanging in museums or bought out at auctions to be adorned in the homes of auradonians from corona to prydain. perhaps someone who is likewise interested in art, rough around the edges, who could use a “master” (in reputation, as they would never declare a woman a master, ugh) to help teach them more techniques. TAKEN by Cosette Gothel

society protégé — think “popular” from Wicked. TAKEN by Wilhelmina Westergaard

suitors — as it is titled. gentlemen who attempt to flirt and get in the good graces of the young lady. or wealthy men she begrudgingly humors due to her family’s current misfortunes. not a ship. 2-4 spots remain

forbidden fruit — this connection exclusive to shadowborn. someone “from the dark side”, the ones they’ve all been warned about, who just intrigues briar and vice versa. there’s a magnetic pull, this sort of tension and draw. it could be the allure of the unknown, the romanticism of forbidden attraction, but there’s something there. potential for scandal, potential for tragedy. potential for a platonic ending. let’s talk it out; chemistry is required for it to go further than just a base connection. TAKEN by Theodore Fortin

SHIPPING: closed, potential for midship

ASTRID BJORGMAN

best friend — someone who has been around from the beginning, perhaps since childhood or her first season years back. they’ve been extremely close, and have seen each other through a lot of life experiences. they would have known more candidly than others about astrid’s grief, and astrid may know many of their secrets in return. not gender exclusive. TAKEN by Rosamund Kluck

enemy of sorts — someone who perhaps doesn’t like how gentle and tender hearted astrid is, who doesn’t buy into her sweetness and as such hasn’t been friendly in return. it bugs astrid to no end that they don’t seem to like her when she’s been nothing but kind in return.

admirer — perhaps someone who is interested in her or was always interested in her; someone who maybe tried to woo her but lost out to her husband or someone who sees her beauty and sad expression wand wants to change it. not necessarily a ship but potential with chemistry.

SHIPPING: open for discussion (but requires chemistry), potential for midship

SEVASTYAN PETIT

enemy — someone who is anti-faerie or perhaps just against the prince and his court which can be seen as proprietors of debauchery and immorality. someone very staunch in traditions who doesn’t like how the faerie prince and his courtiers mix things up.

flirtations — sevastyan is jolly and incredibly flirtatious, and will spare compliments for every pretty face he sees. some may respond back, others may not, either way pls let him flirt. 2 spots TAKEN by Theodore Fortin and Sammy Stabbington, unlimited spots remain

friends — in light of his fight with silver, sev finds himself desperately lonely and in need of just friends to occupy him; people he’s not physically interested in and with whom he can have a pure and good relationship.

faerie godfather — sevastyan is a faerie, and while he can be as fickle as the next, he is also dedicated to the concept of faeries providing services and help to the people (namely aristocracy) of auradon. while he’s not what you’d expect for a faerie godfather, he can be helpful and he is rather magical, and he’s taken pity on this character and vows to help them achieve their dreams.

SHIPPING: closed

FAERILYTH MOOR

other evil bros to assist — essentially lackeys who want to ruin things in auradon; who have personal revenges and have an inkling that the daughter of maleficent is up to something and is willing to participate in future events to ruin things. 5 spots TAKEN by Melinoe Papatonis, Katja Rothbart, Damien Gothel, Dextal Tremaine and Nerissa Cecaelias; 5-10 spots remain

enemies — maybe those from the shadow realm that have never trusted her, that fear her or otherwise. just overall not a fan.

former lover(s) — there isn’t a romantic bone in faerilyth’s body; people are just things she can use and there isn’t room for interpersonal relationships, so there’s a chance she had exclusively physical relationships with people. she may still hit them up when the urge comes, but there’s nothing beyond surface level with these connections. 1 spot TAKEN by Katja Rothbart; 2 spots remain.

a tender hand — someone who is/has tried to offer a light touch of friendship, hoping to subvert any darkness there. it’s a useless thing but a kind gesture nonetheless. TAKEN by Wilhelmina Westergaard

victims of manipulation — people that faerilyth is tricking with her meek demure façade, who may be willing to be manipulated and used for future plot drops. 1 spot TAKEN by Wilhelmina Westergaard, unlimited spots remain

SHIPPING: n/a

CONALL DUNBROCH

set ups — conall is not here to find a wife, he’s made it very well known to his mothers. this doesn’t stop them from forcing some ladies into his direction at balls and events. conall begrudgingly accepts pushes to dance and take turns around the room but his social anxiety makes him quiet and brusque, so don’t expect much fun out of the forced encounters. not a ship. 1 spot TAKEN by Cirilla Charming; 2 spots remain.

friend in arms — he’s a skilled fighter with bow and sword, and spends much time at the soldier’s barracks in the south end of town training on both. this is someone who has joined in on training and has grown a sort of camaraderie through their fights side by side in the training ring. they’re as close to friends as conall may get. TAKEN by Axel Bjorgman

rival of sorts — conall doesn’t care much for the opinion of others but the fact this one person really seems to dislike him eggs him on a bit. he doesn’t really care for them much either and so for some reason they’ve found themselves in endless verbal spars. maybe some physical too. they just don’t see eye to eye and they likely won’t.

stable hand — conall cares for few things in his life; his mothers, his brigade of fighters, and his horse to name a couple. his horse, sorcha, is housed at a local stable in old town, and he goes to visit her fairly often, longing for her serene company when he’s trying to sort out thoughts and feelings. he’s met this other person on several occasions at the stable, has possibly mistaken them for a stable hand, and a quiet sort of understanding has settled between them. they both have an appreciation for horses and it seems to be the start of a strong but strange friendship between them. TAKEN by Chao Yu

idk guys I have no ideas sorry

SHIPPING: closed, potential for midship

CARADOC FFLAM

collaborators — fellow musicians and poets with whom cary writes sonnets and ballads with.

former fling of sorts — someone who cary was courting in a way but he never quite sealed the deal with and so it fizzled out. could be awkward, they could be very good friends now, either way it didn’t end in romance.

idk just hmu

SHIPPING: open for discussion (but requires chemistry), potential for midship

GIANLUCA BERNARDI

bleh

#wanted connections

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evening-blossoms · 5 years ago

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So um. I'm a total idiot and forgot an entire day of my own challenge. I was gonna keep it that way since nobody had noticed but... that day was something I'd wanted to talk about for a while so...

Welcome to the very late and out-of-schedule day 10 of my SGE Challenge

Characters I would rewrite

Buckle down cause oooooh boy do I have shit to say - and because of this I'll be deviating from what I usually do and write a rant post instead! Given I don't want to make a way too long post, I'll simply go over a brief explanation of why they're in the list and what I'd change.

Kei of Foxwood (tw: drugging mention)

So this fucking asshole here apparently will get a redemption arc uh. I Actually already talked about this in this post I submitted but I will go over it again because it was kinda poorly worded imo (especially because it was written by sleep-deprived me at 3am)

Which is poorly driven given it starts with "Oh No! My beloved Rhian is dead, what shall be of me without my dear?". No. A good redemption arc should start with "Fuck I did something terrible and genuinly regret this and want to work on becoming a better person and fixing the mess I've made." Also, seems like Kei's form of redemption will be death and no, he should live with the consequences of what he's done.

Speaking of which - his redemption will also feel like an insult to the readers because seriously? He's way past redemption point for me now. He already was from QFG when he drugged Dot (which was something quite unecessary and Soman used an Extremely complicated and sensitive topic for the sake of shock value - but that's a whole new rabbit hole I'm not jumping into right now). And in ACOT he follows Rhian's orders which include attacking practically defenseless teenagers

So with that in mind, I'd either have Kei die the piece of shit he is or rewrite his arc from QFG in order to make a good redemption. First, erase that part with Dot and find another way to get to the keys. Again, it was an act that can be considered violence against women written down just for shock value. Given we do not have other scenes with Kei (except for the dungeons one), I'll leave it that for QFG.

In ACOT, start on his very first actual scene - the dinner scene. Have him hesitant on following Rhian's orders there, and perhaps hint it goes a bit deeper than hesitance. Then escalate it to him openly challenging Rhian's orders during that moment before the Blessing. The attack on SGE would be the first moment we see a greater act from him - maybe somehow going behind Rhian's back to stop that attack??? His last scene in the book is during the carriage ride with Sophie - when Kei tells her he's been going behind Rhian's back to stop the attacks he was able to, and knew he had to fix he'd made when he locked Tedros in the dungeons back in QFG. He agrees to help her somehow - but it goes terribly wrong when Japeth survives.

I myself still need to see a bit more how that could be well executed but that's the basic idea - have Kei's actions start from much earlier and have doing the right thing as motivation, not his love for Rhian - if anything, that should be a source of struggle.

Hort of Bloodbrook

This is can be either a rewrite of his own arc or a rewrite of the light he's written in.

He is a Nice Guy tm. Lets not try to pretend he isn't because he is.

He spends the entire first trilogy obssessing over Sophie, and acting entitled to her because he's a guy who's "genuine and truthful" or what so ever. Sure, Sophie might not be a perfect innocent girl and she did treat people who cared for her like shit at times, but that doesn't change the fact she never liked him. And even though she was wrong in parading him around like a "suitor" when trying to win Tedros' attention, she never again makes mention to liking Hort, or wanting to date him, or what so ever, and honestly, good for her! You should never date someone just because they have feelings for you.

Liking someone doesn't make you entitled to having them, and it doesn't make them obligated to like you back. And this what Hort can't understand. And not to mention he acts pretty sexist during the School Years:

"Every time he was free of rivals for Sophie’s attention, they always returned, more meddling than ever. Why couldn’t these toads mind their own business? Or die like Rafal did? True, he’d had Sophie to himself these past six months, but most of that was spent waiting out her I’m-an-Independent-Woman phase..." Quests for Glory, chapter 9: "Who Would Want a Hort?"

And also later during ACOT, in which he treats Nicola pretty badly

“Not bad enough, whatever it is,” Hort’s voice said, hijacking the demon. “He got us into this mess by fawning over Rhian like a lovedrunk girl.”

“Oh, so being a ‘girl’ is an insult now?” Nicola’s voice ripped, the demon suddenly looking animated in agreement. (A Crystal Of Time, chapter 5: Sophie's Choice)

There are other examples but I don't want to digress so this is how Hort is. I'd like to rewrite him into a person who had a immature crush on a girl and bent over backwards to get her attention - all of this a product of his own insecurity - but that grows out of it and in the process, also into a mature person who's confident in himself.

Also, in case someone doesn't understand: the problem isn't a crush. Having crushes is totally normal and ok, and so is not having them! The problem is when your crush over someone becomes nearly obssessive because of your immaturity and inner problems.

And as I was gonna talk about the light Hort's written in: all of this bullshit, and he's written as the nice underdog who we are supposed to root for. Soman keeps romanticizing him and that kind of behavior and that's terrible. So I'd either change Hort's behavior or write him in the light of what it truly is.

Rhian of Foxwood

Honestly? I liked him as a villain. I have no problem with him believing he was doing Good - in fact, I liked it! It's a good contrast to the previous villains, who knew they were Evil, wanted to be this way and took pride in it.

What I would change are just two things: one is that last kiss scene with Sophie during chapter 25 of ACOT, since it was absolute bullshit after all the shit he did to her which I don't feel the need to list - we all know it.

Second thing, I'd have made him a seer! Soman missed a huge potential when he made Rhian a Sader without giving him the seer abilities. That whole "Third Mysterious Pen" deal was unecessary, and it could be replaced by Rhian's visions.

And guys, come on - EVIL SEER IS A DOPE CONCEPT.

Nicola of Woods Beyond

Don't get me wrong, I love Nicola - and this is kind of why she's in this list, actually.

She's an amazing character - bookworm represent! She's also one of the few poc representation this book has, so I like it went to someone as amazing and smart as Nic.

So for that I think Nicola should have been explored more. She's usually put as background character and only brought up when it's convenient - she's basically plot device. Which sucks because again, she's awesome. I'd have explored her ability to apply what she learns in stories to real-life issues a bit more, and paired her up with Agatha more times! Both are brilliant girls and I feel Agatha was at times dumbed down so Nicola could solve the problems, and honestly, I hate it when a character is dimmed so the other can shine.

So I'd have put them together - Agatha, experienced and quick-thinker, and Nicola, an extremely smart girl who doesn't really have half the experience Agatha has in the Woods. They both learn from each other - it's a deal of teacher (Agatha) learning from the student (Nicola).

And allow me to push the Nicphie agenda here - I'd totally expand her relation with Sophie - explored their feelings going from mutual hatred to mutual respect to liking each other to very lesbian love. The Best enemies to lovers.

Also, SOMAN WHAT WAS THAT OF CAVING IN THE SCHOOL FOR EVIL AND SADER TELLING THE DEANS TO ACCEPT HER I DEMAND EXPLANATIONS

And lastly I'd remove the Hicola part super unecessary lmao

So that's it! I actually have some more to talk about but I didn't know how to word it properly and I don't want to make a super long post lmao. I might make a part two of this, but separate for the challenge!

I apologize for the disruption in schedule, I legit forgot day 10 lmao. I'll be doing Day 13 tomorrow so hopefully everything will go back to normal!

#long post #sge rants #the school for good and evil #school for good and evil #sge #sge challenge #day 10 #im an idiot lmao #kei of foxwood #nicola of woods beyond #rhian of foxwood #hort of bloodbrook #tw drug mention

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mfackenthal · 6 years ago

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MFackenthal Interviews Maxwell (From Cordonian’s Gone Wild)

I am so excited to bring you this final and unexpected interview with Maxwell (from @cordoniansgonewild). Finally - some true excitement for this new social season. AND you get to learn if Bas has any real interest in Megs ;) Many thanks to @ao719 and @cocomaxley for all of their help with Max’s answers!

“Hey Max! Put me down, love,” I said laughing. “I was out of town for your last one, I’m so sorry. Hey! Since you’re here - want to do an interview for the new social season?”

“Oh heck yeah, Megs! Let’s do it. Liam! We’re going to be over here doing my interview. Come on over when you’re done. You know Megs is going to make you look good, stop worrying so much,” Max said enthusiastically.

We walked over to the MFackenthal set and both sat on the couch. I dropped my voice to a whisper, “How’s Liam doing with his new responsibilities? Is he processing Constantine’s death?”

“You’re so sweet to ask, Megs,” Max says in something much closer to a stage whisper. “King Constantine had a bad rap. I'd gotten him to laugh a couple of times. It looked so unnatural, ya know, like it hurt his face to smile but it was funny too. Liam seems to be doing well. He said his interview with you was delightful.”

Getting down to business, I asked, “So, by now it’s essentially a well known fact that these changes to the social season came about during a night of drinking. Is this - ”

“Megs, I’m just going to stop you there. Drunken words are sober thoughts. Unless you're Drake. Sober or drunk, his thoughts always just come right out. AmIright or Am I right?” Maxwell interrupted.

“I can’t argue with you there, Max. Do you know how this is going to work? Will there be an order in which men choose the women? Will there be rose ceremonies throughout?”

“You’re asking me about details, Megs? I’m just here to have a good time. I don’t care who picks who first or what not. I just hope to see some peacocks. As for a rose ceremony, I hope so! That would be awesome! Oh! I just thought of another way to dance and present a rose to someone,” Max provided.

Then, Max got up and did a little breakdance right there in front of me - I wish I had been recording. At the end of which, he grabbed a flower out of the vase on the desk on my set and presented it to me. A stream of water flew off the stem and got me a bit wet, but I couldn’t help but laugh and accept the flower that I had purchased myself at the Cordonian farmer’s market that morning.

“So what does a lucky lady have to do to get your attention, Max?”

Sitting back down after yelling for someone to get me a napkin to wipe up the small mess he had accidentally made, he taps his pointer finger against his lips as he thinks. “Someone who loves to dance and loves peacocks....and who can handle my brothers constant nagging. Oh! I like redheads too. You better watch out, Liv!” Then, as if noticing for the first time that I am a redhead, he went on, “Oh - Are you joining the season, Megs?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle.

I just shook my head no with a smile. “What are you looking forward to in this social season?” I ask.

“Dancing, duh! Lord Maxwell Perceval Beaumont's gotta show off his killer dance moves. I hope there's a dance completion. I would so own that!”

“And what are you hoping to avoid in this social season?”

“Avoid? Hmmm...I am not an avoider. I look forward to everything. The food, music, dancing...I'm just excited for all of it!”

“Your enthusiasm is truly refreshing. Do you know how the ladies will be selected to enter the social season?”

“No clue, Megs. How do you think I should select a potential spouse? Oohh, what if they had a talent competition, then evening gown...would it be too much to ask for a bathing suit round too?”

“Like a Mrs. Cordonia pageant?”

“Brilliant, Megs! Yes! Just like Miss Universe. I can see it now! We can do the interviews ON YOUR SHOW! Can you see it??? I know you’re trying to get the media rights to the show!”

I was laughing so hard I was crying at this point. “There’s no way Liam … no, there’s no way DRAKE would ever allow that to happen. Okay, let’s get back to some logistics … What if two or more of you fall for the same person?”

“I think we need to be more worried about two or more of them falling for us,” Max said with a smirk.

“Oh really? Well, will the ladies be allowed to say who they are most interested in?” I asked.

“They probably won’t be able to contain themselves. I mean...we’re a damn good looking group if I do say so myself. Well...most of us. *cough* Neville *cough*

At this point, I lost all of my professionalism, if one could say I had had any in this interview up until now. I knew what he had said, but I couldn’t just let it go … “What was that, dear Max?”

“Oh nothing. Had a frog in my throat.”

At this point Maxwell laughs a little harder than he should have at his own joke. But he’s not wrong … Neville does look like a frog. (To quote Maxwell - “amiright?”)

(reader’s note: Neville turned down an invitation to be interviewed after he said his photoshoot went “poorly” and he didn’t like the journalistic angle I was bringing to these interviews … he said it should have been Ana DeLuca doing these interviews. I assume he was trying to start a fight between Ana and I. I would never subject Ana to Neville though. Anyways … )

When I could stop laughing, I asked, “Max, what do you think, will the social season end with multiple weddings?”

“Damn, I hope so!” he responded. “That would be awesome. Picture it, Megs.” He scooted nest to me on the couch and put his arm around my shoulders and used his other arm to paint a picture, “the cathedral would turn into a fortress of love. You know, I better start choreographing a flash mob or 4!”

“One per wedding?” I asked.

“You got it, Megs!”

“Well, you certainly have a vision, Max. Will groups or organizations be sponsoring the women?”

“Oh shit. Yeah. … House Beaumont is still looking for suitors. But don't tell Bertrand we’re still looking cause he's gonna be pissed. That was my job …”

“Has anyone or any organization tried to influence how you will choose a spouse, Max?”

“What?! Absolutely not. Well...except Bertrand. He tried to convince me not to be in it...something about ruining our reputation, I don’t know,” Max said.

Max still had one arm around me. I looked around the room and quietly asked my next question. “Has … umm … has Bastien asked about me at all?”

At this, Maxwell sit back and cups his hands around his mouth and loudly says: “HEY BAS! MEGS THINKS YOU’RE A SEXY STUD! YOU SINGLE?!”

Immediately, I’m pulling Maxwell’s arms down from around his mouth and shushing him. When I dare to look over, Liam is doubled over laughing as he points at Bastien’s beet red face.

Bastien walks over and says, “Maxwell, truly an inside voice is all that is necessary.” Then, turning to me he says, “Hello Megs. I was going to try to pull you aside after your interview, but … I was wondering if you might be free Friday evening, starting around 6:30?”

“I’ll make sure I am, Bas,” was my response.

“Good, I’ll pick you up at your place then,” Bastien said with a small smile before turning and following Liam who was already walking out of the building.

“Hells yeah, Megs! You have a date with Bastien!!” Max said loudly, giving me a playful shove in the arm. “I’m guessing you don’t want to be sponsored by House Beaumont then. Too bad,” Max said with a wink.

“Good luck finding those ladies, Max!” I said, giving Max a final hug. “I have a good feeling that you’ll find some ladies to sponsor and this season will surprise everyone.”

~~~~~

And now for the tags. I’m going to tag those of you who have asked to be tagged in my interviews and a few who specifically asked to be tagged for THESE interviews. @cordoniansgonewild will reblog this with the tags for their fans. As always - just let me know if you want on or off this list.

@eileendannie, @hopefulmoonobject @queen-among-writers, @hopelessromantic1352, @lilyofchoices, @msjpuddleduck, @theroyalweisme

#MFackenthal interviews Maxwell #Maxwell Beaumont #I love his enthusiasm #These were so much fun!#Maxwell's might have been the most fun.#He does love peacocks.#What is his obsession anyways?#Megs got a date!!!!#I love Bastien's professionalism.#Thanks Cordonian's Gone Wild for trusting me to do these #You ladies bring me so much joy!#Until the after party :)

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nayutai · 7 years ago

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Wins and Losses

Summary: Aleecia’s mother tries to play matchmaker with someone her daughter would rather not see again

Word Count: 10K+

Genre: Mostly fluff and smut....maybe a little angst if you squint

Warnings: Foul language, unprotected sex, and I think that’s it. This is pretty tame compared to my other stuff lol

The smell of hot sex and the sound of heavy breathing fills the air as my latest hookup rolls off of me. I take a few minutes to regain some semblance of composure before swinging my legs over the side of the bed to start gathering my clothes. I can already feel that familiar soreness settling in at the apex of thighs as my legs tremble slightly. Definitely a ten out of ten on the hookup scale.

“Well thanks for the dick...” I draw a blank on his name as I turn to face the naked man lounging in the mess of sheets that we’d just been rolling around in.

“Hoseok,” he replies with a sly grin on his face as he watches me get dressed. The way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth almost makes me want to jump back in bed with him but it’s already two a.m. and I have things to do in the morning.

“Are you gonna give me your number? We should do this again.” He says as he shifts around on the mattress. I mentally pat myself on the back for managing to snag such a fine ass man to end the night with. He runs a hand through the mess I made of his jet black locks and now it’s my turn to bite my lip. For a second, I contemplate breaking my rule of not sleeping with the same hookup twice but I stop myself.

“These situations are called one night stands for a reason, bub. Besides I have things to do in the morning well in a few hours.” I inform him as I slip my feet into my heels. “You be blessed though.” I blow a kiss in his direction, which he playfully rolls his eyes at, before grabbing my phone and keys and leaving the lavish apartment without a backwards glance.

“Aleecia, darling, you look absolutely dreadful.’ I roll my eyes at my mother’s prim and proper face that’s delicately twisted into a scowl.

“Good morning to you too, Mother.” I quickly kiss her cheek before turning too my dad. “Daddy.” I peck his cheeks several times much to his amusement. The side of my face burns as I turn to place my clutch on the chair next to me after taking my seat across from my parents.

“Don’t listen to your mother, sweet pea.” My father reaches across the table to place his hand on mine. “You look just as pretty as the day we brought you home.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” I return his bright smile then turn my attention back to my mother. “Are we expecting guests?” I ask, gesturing to the three empty chairs at our table. Our weekly brunches very rarely consist of anyone but us so I’m intrigued. The fact that my father rolls his eyes and looks at my mother lets me know that she’s got something up her blush pink suit sleeve.

“I invited one of my bridge friends Cindy and her husband. Their son just took a job at one of those investment firms downtown and I figured you could show him around.” My sly mother explains as she smooths out the napkin she’s carefully placed in her lap.

Now I see why my dad was rolling his eyes. This smells like my mother attempting to marry me off to the son of one of her prissy friends.

“Mom how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to get married right now?” Of course, she just waves me off as if I’m still a child and not a twenty five year old woman capable of making my own life choices.

“Maybe if you had someone to come home to you’d stay out of those filthy bars you like to frequent. Don’t think I haven’t heard about you, missy.” I roll my eyes skyward as I prepare to get lectured on my “heathen antics” for the millionth time this month. I’m just having fun and I don’t plan on letting her desire for grandchildren she can show off ruin that any time soon.

Fortunately for me, my mother’s friend and her husband choose that exact moment to make an entrance. God bless them. I stand from my seat to greet them properly.

“Oh my, Aleecia! You’re even prettier than your mother said you were.” The sweet older lady kisses me own both cheeks as she squeezes both of my hands in hers. Her husband, Andrew, shakes my hand before moving on to my parents, clapping my dad on the back heartily.

“Where’s your son, Cindy?” My mother questions as we all take our seats around the table.

“He’s running a little late.” She informs as she spreads her napkin in her lap. “They needed his signature on some important paperwork. There he is!”

I turn to look over my shoulder to see the man I’m sure Cindy has bragged about endlessly to my mother. My stomach threatens to fall out of my ass when my eyes take in the man walking through the restaurant with a good looking black man hot on his heels. Of all times for me to run into one of my hookups it has to be when I’m about to meet a potential suitor. To my surprise, the black man greets a woman seated at a table near the door while the man whose bed I’d rolled out of less than twelve hours ago continues strutting towards us.

Now I barely made it through biology in college but…Cindy and Andrew are most definitely African-American like my own parents. I distinctly remember Hoseok mentioning last night when we were talking at the bar that he was from South Korea. As I watch him hug Cindy’s petite frame close lovingly, calling her mom, I come to the conclusion that he must have left out the part about him being adopted. My parents show absolutely no sign of the shock that’s coursing through me so apparently, I was the only one left out of the loop here.

Hoseok introduces himself to my parents before seemingly making a single white rose appear out of thin air. The mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds the rose out to me makes my heart skip a beat. The smile on his face is rated PG but the way he looks at me as he lifts my left hand to his lips suggests a hunger that could never be satisfied by food. My breath hitches as my mind reminds me of how those very lips had made a meal of me last night.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Aleecia.” I don’t miss his enunciation of the word pleasure in the slightest and it’s obvious that he intended to give it a double meaning only I would pick up on. Cocky fucker.

“Likewise, Hoseok.” He pulls my chair out for me before taking the only empty seat left at the table which of course is the one next to me. This is going to be a long brunch.

My assumption on brunch dragging on could not have been more correct. It seemed like I would never be able to escape from that table. Both sets of parents kept asking leading questions in a poorly veiled attempt to show that Hoseok and I have a lot in common which we do. However, my rules are my rules. I’ve taken a ride on his rollercoaster once and, as great as it was, I don’t plan on lining back up for it.

“Well this has been great but I need to get going.” I gather my things, kissing my parents on the cheek hastily as I try to extricate myself from this weird situation.

“Wait, I’ll walk you to your car.” The strength of my ancestors is the only thing that keeps me from openly scowling at his offer. Our respective mothers on the other hand look down right delighted at us getting some one-on-one time together. If only they knew just how close the two of us had gotten back at his apartment.

Hoseok has the audacity to put his hand on the small of my back as he holds the door of the restaurant open for me to pass through. He’s practically vibrating with barely restrained laughter as we walk towards my car. It soon becomes too much for him to hold back and the dam of laughter breaks. He cackles like a hyena, clapping his hands together animatedly. I wanna smack him but he looks so cute that it’s hard to follow through on my devious thoughts of violence.

“So this is the thing you had to do today?” He questions as he tries to get his breathing under control. He’s still chuckling lowly though and my left hand itches with the urge to smack him.

“Shut up. It’s not funny.” I stomp my foot like a child that didn’t get the toy they wanted. He simply leans back against my car that we’ve finally reached.

“I don’t know, babe.” The sly grin that had initially attracted me to him graces his features as he looks me up and down, licking his lips. “It’s pretty damn hilarious from where I stand. If I’d known this was going to happen I wouldn’t have let you leave my bed so soon.”

The implications of his words sends a shudder through me. My mind races with all the possibilities the statement could entail and each thought makes the damp spot that’s starting to form in my panties to grow exponentially. I cross my arms across my chest as if that’ll protect me but I only succeed in drawing his attention to my chest.

“You’re impossible.” I mutter almost to myself to which he shrugs his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me you were adopted?”

“I don’t make a habit of telling hookups my life story.” He cocks one perfectly groomed eyebrows before he continues. “Although if you’d like to turn that one night into two I’m totally game. You looked so pretty under me last night.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” He falls into a fit of giggles once more as I shove him away from my car.

“See you soon, Aleecia.” He winks at me before turning to walk back towards the restaurant.

Not likely bub.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite financial analyst.” The sound of that all too familiar voice has my fingers freezing above my keyboard. My eyes remain glued to the email I’m typing to my friend in HR as I count backwards from ten hoping that I’m just hearing things. It’s been three days since that god forsaken Sunday brunch and entirely too soon to be having another run in with the devil’s protégée.

“Ignoring people is very rude, Aleecia.” The arrogance in his voice as he flops down in one of the leather chairs across from my desk makes my hand itch to smack him again.

I finally look over my screen at him, not surprised to see him wearing a shit eating grin. I am surprised by how well he’s wearing the obviously tailor made white button up and navy slacks. A man in a suit has always been my weakness and I can already feel my defenses crumbling at the sight of Hoseok in his. I find myself drawing my bottom lip between my teeth as I take him in. Before I say something I know I’ll regret, I reach forward and press the speed dial number for my secretary Cedric.

“Yes, Ms. Hartford?” He answers mere seconds later.

“Ced, why is there an unscheduled visitor in my office?” Hoseok snorts, rolling his eyes when I glare at him.

“I’m sorry Ms. Hartford. It won’t happen again.” He responds without excuses.

“Thank you.” I turn my attention to the intruder, giving him the full force of my “Elsa” glare as my colleagues refer to the icy stare that’s brought many a foe to their knees. Hoseok on the other hand seems wholly unaffected.

“Don’t be so hard on him. I’m known to be a smooth talker.” He informs me smugly. “It’s why I’m so good at what I do.”

“Is that so?”

“It worked on you, didn’t it? Or was it my boyish good looks that sealed the deal for you?” He’s got me there. Hoseok has game that I can’t deny as much as I’d like to.

“Why are you here?” The smile on his face lets me know that he’s well aware of me avoiding answering his question but fortunately he gives me a pass.

“Your mother kindly informed me that you’re free for lunch today and what a coincidence so am I.” I arch an eyebrow at him. My mother’s sudden cancellation of our lunch date today is making a lot more sense now.

“And what makes you think I’d want to have lunch with you, Hoseok.” I rest my chin in the palm of my hand as I observe him. He seems entirely too at ease with the situation our mothers have placed us in and it’s bothersome.

“I’m buying that’s why.” He responds matter of factly. I have to admit that the thought of free food sweetens the pot deliciously but, considering our circumstances, I know I have to decline. A ping comes through signaling that Rian, my HR friend, has sent me a follow-up email to the one I’d been interrupted trying to respond to.

Rian Draughan: Aleecia do you want to do lunch or not? I’m starving and you’ve had me waiting forever. Stop torturing me and my stomach.

Saved by the bell, well, email in this case. I’ll have to pay for my own food but it’ll be worth it if I can thwart my mother’s dastardly plans.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I say to Hoseok in the sweetest voice I can manage. “I made replacement lunch plans after my mother cancelled on me.” He searches my face shrewdly looking for any hint of a lie. It’s then I’m reminded that while Hoseok might be laid back and easy going he’s a force in his own right in the business world.

“Rain check?” He questions with the slightest hint of hope in his voice and I can’t wait to crush it.

“Don’t hold your breath on that one, buddy.” I reply as I lock my computer, reaching into my bottom drawer to grab my bag. “I don’t intend to give our mothers the satisfaction of getting what they want so if you would be so kind as to go along with my master plan it would be much appreciated.”

Hoseok tilts his head to the side as we face off in my office. The weight of his stare makes me shift from foot to foot. It’s almost as if I can feel his gaze cascading across my skin as he looks me over and heat pools in my lower stomach.

“I have another plan in mind and it involves a less avoidance and a lot more,” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his solid frame. “contact.”

My heart is beating frantically in my chest and for a second I’m worried that he might actually be able to hear it. I know that I should probably back out of his embrace but it’s as if my feet are glued to the floor.

The breath in my lungs rushes out when he leans in closer to me. My head lolls to the side almost on his own accord as he places gentle kisses along the column of my throat, ending at my ear. He pulls the lobe between his teeth and tugs softly. I never knew that was a turn on for me but the sudden gush of wetness between my thighs informs me that it is.

“I always get what I want, Aleecia.” He whispers in my ear. His voice is rough with desire and a shudder runs down my spine. He finally steps away from me with a satisfied smirk on his face. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

Hoseok exits my office with one final wink and it feels like I can breathe again. I’ve never been with a man that was so in control of my body the way he is especially after just one night together. A night that was nearly a week ago. I decide then and there that this man is a demon who must be avoided.

When I step out into the small foyer outside my office, I’m not surprised to see Rian waiting for me. What is surprising is the smug look on her face. She looks like the cat that got the cream and my gut clenches in fear of the interrogation I’m surely in for during lunch.

“So, how good was the dick?” Rian asks as she daintily cuts into her stuffed chicken breast. I nearly choke on my water although I should’ve seen it coming. Rian and I have been friends since sophomore year of undergrad and we’ve always been super open about our sex lives with each other.

“It was life-changing.” I answer with a frustrated groan. “I almost considered breaking my rule for another night but my mother made sure I stuck to my guns.”

Rian arches a perfectly sculpted brow in question so I launch into my story about The Brunch. She listens intently, cackling when I get to Hoseok’s “grand entrance”. For a second, I’m sure she’s about to choke on a piece of broccoli as she tries to control herself.

“So, what are you gonna do, sis?” She asks around her chicken, serious for the first time since we sat down.

“I’m going to ignore him.” I answer before taking a sip of my water. “I let my mother meddle in my love life before and all it got me was chlamydia and five years of wasted time.”

Rian nods in concession to my statement. My ex-fiancée Derek had been my mother’s first foray at matchmaking and for a while I thought she had the golden touch. He was three years older than me, the son of one of the lawyers my mom played tennis with and already a senior in college when we first met. We became joined at the hip almost instantly. If you saw one of us the other wasn’t far away.

I was worried that we wouldn’t last after he’d graduated and taken a job at a law firm in the neighboring city but Derek had shown me that he was willing to do whatever was necessary to make our relationship work. Looking back, I should’ve seen the signs. After a routine check-up, I was able to see through the smokescreen of dazzling smiles and sweet nothings that had been my life. What hurt even more is that he hadn’t even been sorry. If anything, he was relieved that all of his secrets were finally out in the open so that he wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

Derek took five of the best years of my life and ever since then my view on love has been jaded. I gave a man my heart and thought I was getting his in return but it was all a bunch of lies wrapped up in a pretty bow. Never again will I let a man play me like that. Love doesn’t live at my address anymore.

“It’s been almost two years though. Don’t you think it’s time to get back out there in the dating world?” Rian asks curiously.

“Maybe one day,” I answer pensively. “but that day is not today.”

A deep sigh leaves my throat as I drop yet another bouquet of flowers into the garbage can next to my desk. It’s been a week since Hoseok’s surprise visit to my office and the flowers have been coming every day since. I almost feel bad throwing them away because I’m sure they cost him a pretty penny but there’s no way they can stay here.

My eyes start crossing up at 11 o’clock on the dot as usual which means it’s time to make my daily trip to the break room for a cup of caffeinated gold. Otherwise known as a giant cup mocha cappuccino with copious amounts of sugar and hazelnut creamer. I ask Cedric if he wants anything from the break room while I’m gone, nodding confirmation at his request for a donut.

On the way back to my office I notice my supervisor ahead of me walking next to another man with an artfully disheveled head of hair that looks much too familiar. My heart clenches when I watch them stride past all of the other doors on the hallway which means they can only be going one place, my office.

“Please, God no” I whisper to myself as I contemplate running away from the building entirely.

Cedric gives me a weak, knowing smile as he accepts his donut when I step into the foyer. Boisterous, male laughter erupts from my open office door, making me cringe. Ced gives me a thumbs-up for encouragement as I take a deep breath and steel myself to face the two men currently cackling in my office.

“Ah, there you are, Ms. Hartford.” My supervisor Mr. Branson stands to shake my hand after I shut my office door behind me. “This is Jung Hoseok. He’s on loan to us for the next few weeks for that audit project with Axis Banking that I was telling you about last month.”

A dreadful groan claws at my windpipe but I manage to choke it down. I’d been incredibly excited that my name had been picked to head this massive project with our sister bank but now I’d gladly accept death. Satan really doesn’t want me to prosper. My office is huge, one of the perks of it being the old office of our CEO before several floors were added to the building, so I’d foolishly offered to temporarily make room for the Axis rep so that we could work on the project together. The thought of being trapped in this office with Hoseok for hours upon hours makes my blood run hot for various reasons.

“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other a little bit before you get started tomorrow. The movers will bring in the necessary furniture and equipment so you’ll be ready to go in the morning.” Mr. Branson claps us both on the shoulder good-naturedly before dismissing himself.

“I take it roses aren’t your thing, huh.” My eyes go wide as I realize that he’s seen the bouquet peeking over the edge of my trash can. I open my mouth to respond but he stops me. “Don’t worry I expected a much worse outcome for those flowers if I’m honest. This just means you’re warming up to me.” I scowl at his megawatt smile and wish I’d dropped those damn flowers in the bin heading for the incinerator.

I take a long drag from my coffee and flop down in my chair. He walks around my desk to prop himself against it next to me, crossing his arms over his chest as he observes me casually. It takes me two tries to type my password in under the weight of his gaze. I don’t know how I’m going to survive working so closely with him over these next few weeks when I can barely handle him looking at me without flooding my panties and making a fool of myself.

“Did you know I was working on this project?” I ask, breaking the thick silence between us.

“Not until your boss brought me to your office.” He answers without hesitation and the look on his face makes me inclined to believe his words. Hoseok didn’t’ seem like the type to outright lie to me.

My hands creep up the sides of my neck to rub at the muscles there that suddenly feel tense. A gasp sounds through the air when Hoseok slaps my hands away and replaces them with his own. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud at the rush of pleasure that flows through me at the loosening of my stiff muscles. This man has magical hands although on some level I guess I already knew that about him.

I don’t realize just how into the massage I’ve gotten until the soft sound of his laughter makes me open my eyes, even though I don’t remember closing them, giving me a lovely view of his amused face. Embarrassment floods my system almost immediately as I roll my shoulders and roll my chair closer to my desk.

“See you in the morning then I guess.” I clear my throat and focus all of my attention on a stack of paperwork on my desk. He hums noncommittally, letting the tip of one of his fingers drag down my arm.

“See you soon, princess.” He lifts my hand to his lips when he reaches it. The feeling of his plush lips on my skin makes me long to feel those same lips all over me again. I curse internally when my door clicks softly behind him before practically diving for my phone.

“Rian, I have a problem.” I whisper the second she picks up her phone.

The darkest pair of sunglasses I own cover my eyes as I approach the front door of the building, waving at the security guards on my way to the bank of elevators. My stomach churns dangerously as I chug more of the coffee from the giant cup I’m nursing. Rian and I had a “game planning” session which basically means we drank excessive amounts of wine while she laughed at my current situation until we passed out on my couch. I woke up still slightly drunk this morning and contemplated skipping work but that wouldn’t look good on my part since Hoseok and I are to start this stupid project today.

My stomach lurches once more as I think about having to deal with him today and for the millionth time this morning I bristle with jealousy at the fact that Rian is comfortably lounging in my bed sleeping off of the rest of her drunkenness. Lucky HR bitch.

Cedric the Saint has a bacon and egg sandwich and a bottle of ibuprofen waiting for me as I’d desperately requested. My mouth waters at the smell of the meaty goodness as I graciously take the bag and pills from him.

Hoseok has beat me to the office unsurprisingly, lifting his eyebrow at my strange appearance as I flop down in my office chair. I immediately begin tearing into my sandwich, moaning unabashedly. I hear Hoseok choke on air off to my left but I can’t be bothered to care right now.

After devouring my sandwich and popping a few pills, I finally feel ready to try and start my workday. I reach into my bag to grab my laptop so that I can plug it into the docking station on my desk only to come up empty. My head drops to my desk with a thud as I realize that I’ve left my laptop at home which means I have no computer unless I go back and get it.

“Rough morning?” Hoseok asks and he sounds much closer than he should. I simply nod, not bothering to lift my head from its current position.

“Come on,” he says as he slowly spins my chair to face him. “What’s wrong?” he grasps my chin gently, tilting my drooping head up to look at him. It’s unfair how pretty he looks so early in the morning.

“I forgot my laptop.” I mumble out, looking everywhere but at him. I’m almost surprised when he releases my face from his grasp. The sight of him pulling a set of car keys from his pocket as he makes his way towards my office door definitely catches me off guard.

“Well, do you want your laptop or not?” He questions from the now open door to my office. I nearly trip over myself trying to get to him.

“You’re a fucking lifesaver.” Before I can stop myself, I peck his cheek once I’ve caught up to him at the doorway. This time it’s his turn to freeze as I move past him. A huff of laughter escapes me at the red tint that blooms across his cheeks as he fights a smile. Working with Hoseok might not be so bad after all.

Twenty minutes later Hoseok is parking is sleek Audi in my driveway which isn’t something I’d ever imagined would happen. I waste no time unbuckling myself and making a mad dash for my front door. The keys to my own car are next to my charging laptop on my nightstand where I’d dumped them the previous night. I grab both items, smacking a still sleeping Rian on the ass to annoy her before leaving my humble abode once more. Hoseok rolls his window down when I approach the driver’s side of his car, eyeing my keys almost suspiciously.

“My headache is gone now so I’ll just dri-”

“Nope we’re doing dinner after work and then I’m bringing you home so get in.” As if on their own accord, my feet carry me around to the other side of the car.

“What makes you think I want to get dinner with you?” He glances in my directions fleetingly before backing out onto the street.

“Because you need it after a morning like this.” He responds almost immediately. “There’s no ulterior motive going on. I just feel like doing something nice for you.”

“Driving me to my house to get my computer isn’t doing something nice?”

“Who says a man can’t do more than one nice thing a day?” I nod once in agreement with his point, spending the rest of the ride back to the office staring out at the city.

Working with Hoseok is surprisingly…efficient. I was fully anticipating wandering hands and suggestive innuendos, but when it comes to his work the man plays no games. The change in his demeanor is almost palpable as the smiley persona he normally exhibits fades in favor of the shrewd, calculating man that sits across from me.

“No one in their right minds would buy this shit. Who gave the okay on buying this dumpster fire?” He questions almost to himself as he goes over the financial reports from the company our parent corporation is trying to offload.

“I don’t know but the amount of short-term debt alone is making me sweat.” Hoseok quickly scrolls to the balance sheet, cursing to himself at the exorbitant figure listed.

“They should’ve audited this mess before they spent,” his jaw drops when he looks at the file in front of him at the purchase price “260 million dollars. They really spent that much money on this?” The incredulous expression on his face probably matches mine.

“We work for absolute idiots.” He whispers and I wholeheartedly nod in agreement.

After work, Hoseok makes good on his promise to take me out to dinner. We drive past numerous restaurants downtown and yet he stops at none of them. My brow furrows in confusion when Hoseok slots his car into a parking space at a rundown looking diner called Pete’s Place. It looks old enough to have served Benjamin Franklin but I cautiously follow behind Hoseok anyway. The promise of free food is much too good to pass out. I nearly salivate when he holds the door open for me allowing the smell of untold deliciousness to hit me in the face with the force of a bullet train. My attitude quickly changes as I hastily slide into the first empty booth I spot

An older woman in an apron with a dazzling smile comes over to our table, sitting an orange soda and small cup of lemon wedges in front of Hoseok before ruffling his already messy hair even more. I’m starting to get the feeling that he’s a bit of a regular here.

“Where ya been, kid?” She asks as she smacks away on a piece of gum. “Me and the girls have missed you around here.”

I see I was right about him being a regular.

“I haven’t been home in a while but I just took a job here in the city so I’m going to become a full-time pain in your ass again, Sher.” He gives her one of his trademark smiles, giggling as he dodges her hands when she swats at him.

“Stop being rude and introduce me to your girlfriend, Hopie.”

“I’m no-”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Sher.” Hoseok interrupts me, effectively communicating what I was going to say anyway. “Aleecia here just wants me for my body.” I kick my foot at him but he catches it as if he was expecting my foot to come flying out at him.

“Her loss.” Sher replies with a shrug of her shoulders before handing us a couple menus. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your orders.”

“You must want to die, Hopie.” I make sure to put sinister emphasis on the nickname Sher had called him but when a shudder visibly rolls down his spine I can tell it backfired.

“It sounds so hot when you say it.” I scoff, watching in disgust as he squeezes the lemon wedges into his soda before dropping them in.

“Where did that name even come from anyway?”

“Would you believe me if I said I had a short-lived rap career?” Never in a million years would I have imagined that the man sitting in front of me would have ever been a rapper. Maybe in some alternate universe but definitely not the one that I exist in.

“No way. Really?” I lean forward, resting my chin in my hands like a child. I’m thoroughly intrigued with the thought of the man across from me being a rapper.

“Yep, I called myself J-Hope.” He nods with a faint smile on his face as he busies himself with stirring his lemon wedges into his soda. A disgusting combination from my point of view but he seems satisfied with it.

“Can I listen to some of your music?” His head snaps up so fast I’m scared that he might injure himself.

“You-…I…you actually want to hear my music?” He seems genuinely dumbfounded that I’d ever be interested in hearing his raps.

“Yeah why not?” I answer as I finally pick up the menu in front of me to peruse my options.

For the first time since I met him, Hoseok is speechless. Sher saves him from floundering for a response when she returns to take our orders. He seems to have recovered by the time she walks away and returns with the sweet tea I’d ordered.

The conversation flows easily between us as we wait for our food although that was never an issue for us. As promised, the conversation never once veers in an inappropriate direction and the longer we sit here the more I wish that it would. I keep catching myself staring at the way his lips move as talks animatedly about a giant dog he’d seen at the park a few days ago and each time I have to damn near force myself to look away.

When our food arrives, it’s just as delicious as I expected it to be. My eyes roll skyward when I get a taste of the blueberry waffles I’d ordered. If not for the fact that there’s a decent amount of people in the diner I might’ve moaned out like I’d done in my office this morning.

“Good?” Hoseok asks on a laugh. He obviously already knows the answer but I humor him with a thumbs-up anyway as I rock happily in my seat.

When we get back into his car after dinner, Hoseok presses a few buttons on the radio until a calming beat diffuses out of the speakers. He looks so tense that I can only assume that this is one of his songs. My assumption is proven correct when I hear his voice through the speakers rapping in Korean.

“What’s this one called?” I ask curiously as I bob my head to the beat. Whatever it is it’s catchy as hell.

“It’s called Airplane.” He answers, scratching at the back of his head nervously. “It’s part of the mixtape I made my senior year of college. Figured I’d do it in Korean to reconnect with my roots ya know?”

I nod my head in understanding. Being able to connect with who you are culturally as someone adopted into a family so drastically different from the one you were born into was probably really big for him.

“Can you send me this? Like the whole mixtape?”

“Uhm yeah sure.”

I beat Hoseok to the office the next morning and seeing his face when he walks in on me singing along to another song from his mixtape was worth getting up twenty minutes early. His entire face turns red as he avoids any sort of eye contact with me on the way to his desk.

“Good morning, J-Hope.” I cackle at the way he cringes at his old moniker.

“I feed you and this is the thanks I get?” He asks ruefully as he crosses over to my side of the office. I quickly remind him that I did in fact thank him for dinner when he dropped me off at my house which he seems to have so conveniently forgotten. I also make it point to inform him that dinner doesn’t guarantee his safety from my taunting either. He hums out loud as he considers my answer for a moment.

“How about whoever gets to the office first gets immunity from teasing of any sort?” I suck in a dramatic breath as my brain comprehends his proposal. The smug grin on his face lets me know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“That’s not a fair deal, Hoseok.” I narrow my eyes at him. Not only does he live closer to the downtown area and therefore closer to work, but I don’t believe in getting to work early while Hoseok believes in getting to the office 15 minutes ahead of everyone else like a demon. I know this is a deal I should refuse but I always did love a good challenge.

I groan internally when I open my office door the next morning to see Hoseok already seated at his desk.

“Good morning, Lee Lee. Did you sleep well?” His smile is turned up to sun-level intensity and it pisses me off.

“What the hell is a Lee Lee? My name is Aleecia.” I emphasize my name as I drop my bag onto my desk a little more aggressively than necessary. A scowl clouds my face as he gleefully tells me about the internal monologue he had with himself in the elevator about ways for us to better our working relationship to make the project run smoothly. Apparently, nicknames was step one so now I have the weekend to come up with something “cute” to call him as well and I want to shoot myself.

Dinner at Pete’s becomes a routine of sorts for us after that week. Step two in Hobi’s plan after the completion of the nickname phase. I loathed it at first simply because he’d suggested it but I’ll be damned if it didn’t actually work.

Every Thursday, one of us picks the other up from home and after work we claim “our” booth for dinner. The “tradition” continues even after we finish the audit project so now every Thursday is a race to see who can beat the other to the diner. Loser pays.

For the past two months since the project ended I haven’t had to pay for dinner once and today I feel like I might be dangerously close to losing my streak. My eyes dart to the bottom right corner of my computer screen every few seconds as I not so patiently wait for an important file to download. The second it’s done, I snatch my laptop from its docking station and unceremoniously shove it into my bag before running towards the door.

Traffic is a mess because that’s just my luck and at this point I’m positive that Hoseok is going to beat me. However, his familiar vehicle is nowhere to be found in the parking lot when I arrive. I check my phone to see if he’s texted me and it’s then I realize that I haven’t actually talked to him since yesterday which is weird considering that we’ve developed somewhat of as friendship over the past few months as a result of his plan and text regularly.

“Where the hell are you, Hoseok.” I whisper to myself as I press the call button under his name.

When he answers, I immediately know why he’s missing in action. The poor man sounds like microwaved death.

“Now I know why I’m at Pete’s by myself.” I say playfully.

“Fuck it’s Thursday.” He interrupts himself with a short coughing fit, sniffling before he continues. “I’m sorry, Lee Lee. I should’ve called” I have to stop myself from smiling like an idiot at the nickname that he’d created. I’ll never admit it but it’s grown on me.

“Don’t worry about it, Hobi. Have you eaten? Taken any medicine? Drank enough water?”

“Uhhh...no.”

“Ugh you men folk are absolutely defenseless. I’ll be there in an hour.” I drop my phone into the passenger seat before peeling out of the parking lot.

Exactly an hour later I’m punching in the elevator code to Hoseok’s penthouse apartment, both arms weighed down with bags. When I stroll out of the elevator into his foyer, he’s cocooned on his couch in several blankets fast asleep. I kick off my heels and put away the groceries as quietly as I can before heating up the soup I’d brought him. I cross the room to stand over him, setting the soup and a box of cold pills on the coffee table behind me. My heart melts a little at how small he looks tucked underneath the blankets.

“Hobi, Hobi, Hobi.” I repeatedly call his name while poking his cheek until he finally wakes.

“I hate you.”

“Uh huh sit up and eat some soup so you can take something.” I say as I rest the back of my hand against his clammy forehead. He definitely has a fever.

He begrudgingly follows my directions, glaring at me for interrupting his sleep the entire time. I pick up the bowl of soup and hold it out to him. He sniffs at it for a second as if he’s contemplating not eating but he eventually grabs the dish from my hands. I return to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. One of the few things he actually had in there other than the groceries that I’d just bought.

Hoseok drains the soup bowl in record time but absolutely refuses to let a single cold capsule pass between his lips. At one point I try to physically pry his jaw open just for him to bite me like a rabid dog.

“Fucking hell Hoseok just take the damn medicine so I can go home.” I screech as I lunge for his face again, attempting to catch him off guard. He grunts out his disapproval against my hand as he struggles beneath me before rolling onto his stomach.

“I don’t need pills.” He yells into the fabric of his comforter. “My white blood cells are fierce warriors and don’t need any help!”

I take a deep breath and remove myself from his back and stomp loudly to the kitchen. I slam a few cabinet doors and grumble to give him false hope before tip-toeing behind the couch. The second he raises his head to look around, I pounce.

“Gotcha, fucker.” I announce triumphantly as I finally get the pills in his mouth, clapping my hand over his lips to make sure he doesn’t spit them out. “Swallow. Now. You owe me dinner so you need to get better.”

He glares at me but I watch his throat bob twice as he struggles to swallow the pills down dry.

“That was horrible.”

“Well you could’ve had water if you weren’t such a child about it.” I announce as I retreat to the kitchen to get a bottle of water for myself. Fighting with this errant man child has left me quite parched.

“I demand cuddles and a kiss for this disrespect.” Water nearly spews out of my mouth at his outlandish request.

“Are you high? Drunk? Both?” I question incredulously as I fight not to choke to death on my own shock.

“No, what I am is lonely.” He pouts. “Please Leecia just cuddle with me.” He grabs one of my hands and attempts to pull me down onto the couch with him. Sure, I consider Hoseok a friend but the only friend I’ve ever cuddled with is Rian and he’s nowhere near Rian’s platinum friendship level at all.

On top of that my mother’s face keeps floating around in my head. She’d probably love nothing more than for the two of us to cuddle on this couch into the wee morning hours. Giving into Hoseok means giving into my mother and that’s just not something I can do so I steel the resolve his begging had begun to weaken and pull my hand from his grasp.

“I think I need to go now. I can’t do this.” I mumble and make a bee line for the door. I’ve got one heel back on when Hoseok speaks up.

“Why did you go to brunch that day if you didn’t want to be in a relationship?” He asks in such a small voice that I almost don’t hear him. “Or is it you don’t want to be in a relationship with me?” He tacks on almost as an afterthought.

The look on his face reminds me of a wounded puppy and I find myself genuinely upset at the fact that I’m the cause of it. I take my shoe back off before padding back over to him, plopping down onto the couch next to him.

“What’s the correlation to that godforsaken brunch and us being in a relationship?”

He explains to me how he was under the impression that I knew exactly what the purpose of that ironic get together was and had been in full support of it. Apparently, my darling mother had pulled out all of the stops for this meeting and told him that I was looking to finally settle down and anxiously anticipated meeting Hoseok. He’d never seen a picture of me which is why he didn’t put two and two together that night in the bar plus the amount of alcohol in his system made it seem like a perfect coincidence that his last hoorah would be with a woman by the same name as me.

I wish I could say I’m surprised by all this but it’s not all that out of character for my mom to try something this sneaky to get what she wants. It’s probably why she made such a good defense lawyer back when she still practiced. She has no qualms about being underhanded to achieve her goals.

“Hoseok I-” I open and close my mouth a few times as I try to be as tactful as possible. “I had no idea that my mother was trying to set the two of us up. She’s tried playing matchmaker once before and it nearly ruined me so if I’d know what she was up to I probably wouldn’t have shown up at all.”

I take a deep breath and recount the horror story that is my ex-boyfriend. He listens intently. Not interrupting one which is honestly a bit surprising. When I conclude my tale, I actually feel lighter. This is the first time I’ve told anyone other than Rian exactly what happened between Derek and I all that time ago. My own parents don’t even know the full story. For a long while we just sit in silence as Hoseok figures out a way to respond.

“That dude is an asshole.” He finally speaks, wiping at the couple of tears that I hadn’t even realize had started to fall. “Doing that to anyone, you especially, should be considered a crime against God and nature.” A small laugh escapes me as I reach for the box of tissues he has on the coffee table.

“Yeah well it’s over and now I’m pulling a Maxine Waters and reclaiming my time the only way I know how.” I shrug my shoulders, laying my head on his shoulder when he pulls me into him for a much needed hug.

“Is that where your rules come from?” I nod yes and I feel rather than hear the sigh he lets out at my confirmation. “I think you should go now.” My head jerks up so fast it’s a wonder that I don’t give myself whiplash.

“You want me to leave? Why?”

“Because now that I’ve got you in my arms again I don’t think I’ll ever let go.” He starts. “I think I started falling for you from all the stories I heard about you, but actually meeting you and knowing you? I’m in deep, Lee Lee, but I know this isn’t what you want right now.”

My heart nearly seizes up at the raw emotion laid out on his face. His eyes are full of a longing and desire that has me choking back a sob. I throw my arms around his neck haphazardly, holding him as tight as I can. He sniffles a little against my neck. A damp feeling against my skin tells me it’s not from his cold.

I pull back to look him in the face once more, letting my eyes scan every inch of his face. One of my hands cups his jaw while the other rests against his collarbone. I’m not sure who leans in first but I soon find my lips pressed against Hoseok’s and for a split second I freeze up. I haven’t kissed this man since that one fateful night when he entered my life in more ways than one. Now, totally sober and in control of my impulses, I don’t recoil from him as I’d expected to. The restrictions I’d worked hard to maintain on our relationship to keep it platonic crumble and fall like the Berlin Wall. Our lips continue to move softly against each other when I more pressing thought comes rushing to the forefront of my consciousness.

I’m going to get so sick.

Thoughts of congestion and a runny nose are pushed to the back of my mind when Hoseok runs his tongue across the seam of my closed lips. A tortured groan sounds from deep in his chest as I finally grant him total access to my mouth. Hoseok detangles himself from the pile of blankets he’d buried himself under to pull me into his lap. His hands slide up my thighs to my ass as he pushes my dress up past my hips. He grabs and squeezes at the supple cheeks of my ass while he forces my hips to rock back and forth over the tent in his sweatpants.

“Please let me inside you.” He pleads against my skin as his mouth travels down the column of my neck. “Let me make you feel good.”

I nod my consent, shivering when his hands ghost up my back to grasp the zipper on my dress. My breath hitches in my throat as he eases it down. A muffled curse falls from his lips when I pull my arms from the sleeves to reveal the pale yellow lace of my bra.

“Please tell me your panties match.” He groans, eyes never leaving my heaving chest. I smirk mischievously before removing myself from his lap.

I turn my back to him once I’m standing between his outstretched legs. I tease him a little by raising and lowering before finally bending at the waist to lower the little black dress down my legs. An audible gasp followed by a low moan comes from behind me as Hoseok takes in the sight of my matching lace panties.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Aleecia.” He whispers as he wraps his arms around me from behind, peppering kisses across whatever skin his lips can reach. His fingers walking along my spine is the only warning I get before my bra suddenly loosens around my torso.

He releases me to shove his sweatpants down his legs along with his boxers. His hard length rests against his lower stomach as he strokes it lazily with one hand. He reaches for me with his freehand to pull me back into his lap.

I slide my hands under his white t-shirt and hope he takes the hint that I want it gone. Fortunately, Hoseok is intuitive, yanking the fabric over his head and tossing it somewhere over my shoulder. I dip my head down and worship the tanned skin I can reach with my lips. The sound of his moans and groans in my ear makes a fresh wave of arousal wash over me.

Hoseok reaches between us to slide my drenched panties to the side to gain access to my soaked center. He circles my entrance before relocating to my engorged clit, working it in languidly as I grind against his hands.

“No more foreplay. I need you. Now.” I whisper into his ear as I pull his hand from between my legs.

Air whooshes out of his mouth as I slide my wet heat along his erection. He reaches down to line himself up with my entrance, head tossed back in pleasure as I begin my descent. I grasp my breasts in my hands, squeezing them together when my ass finally meets his thighs.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good.” He tilts his hips forward slightly which changes the angle in a way that has me clenching around him tightly. “That’s right, baby. Milk my cock.”

I start up a steady rhythm. Lifting and dropping my hips in his lap. Hoseok braces his feet on the floor to meet every downward stroke with an upward thrust of his own. It’s as if I’m constantly full of him. His very being seems to overwhelm me as he sucks a nipple into his eager mouth. He pinches and pulls at the other nipple with one hand before switching it up.

“More, Hobi.” I plead as I twist my fingers into his hair. “I need more.”

I’m not really sure what I’m begging for but Hoseok definitely seems to know. He releases my nipple with a pop to latch onto my ass. He spreads and squeezes the flesh there as he lifts me up before pulling me back down, forcing my hips to roll forward before doing it all over again. I can feel the knot in my lower stomach tightening to near bursting levels as I bite down on his shoulder.

“Soak my dick, baby. Wanna feel you cum around me.” His husky voice in my ear is all I need to push me over the edge. Every muscle in my body feels like it’s seizing up as lighting bolts of pleasure shoot down my nerve endings.

Hoseok lifts me off of him just in time to cover my abdomen in his release. His chest is heaving as he reattaches his lips to mine for a brief kiss. My eyes drift down to the mess on my stomach. I run a finger through the white strings before bringing it to my lips to sample his release. It’s bitter as expected but there’s a slight sweetness to it that takes the edge off that’s so uniquely him.

“That was the hottest shit ever.” He muses with a goofy smile on his face.

Hoseok and I make love late into the night. Taking our time exploring each other’s bodies and figuring out what makes the other tick the fastest. It’s no surprise when I wake the next morning sniffling just like the man to my left

After calling Cedric and letting him know that I won’t be coming into the office, I resign myself to spending all day in bed with Hoseok. We’re five episodes into the second season of Grey’s Anatomy, according to Hoseok it’s blasphemous that I haven’t seen it, when something one of the characters said triggers a thought in my congested head.

“If you were so set on being with me before we even met, why were you trolling for a hook up in that dirty ass bar?” I ask, feeling some type of way the more I think about it.

“I wasn’t trolling for a hookup as you so eloquently put it.” He answers after blowing his nose. “I wasn’t planning to sleep with anyone at all. A few of my friends from college came into town so we were reliving our glory days of getting trashed and singing bad karaoke.”

“But you still went home with me though.” He nods in concession to my point.

“I don’t know. I just remember seeing you walk in and just feeling drawn to you like a magnet. When you told me your name was Aleecia, my drunk ass probably thought it was a positive sign from God since I’m getting set up with someone who has the same name.”

I ponder his statement for a moment. “That’s dumb.”

“Men aren’t smart creatures. Alcohol just makes it worse.” We stare at each other for a second before dissolving into a fit of laughter. It gets cut short by us hacking our lungs out but the sentiment still stands.

“I know I probably seem like jackass for sleeping with someone the day I was supposed to meet you but the fact that it was you makes me feel like it truly was a sign.” He says soberly after we get ourselves back together.

“So why did you offer to take my number? You even asked to meet up again.” I point out with a raised brow.

“I was about to nut early so I was looking around trying to distract myself and I saw a notification on your phone reminding you about brunch at Le Chateau and I kinda just put two and two together.” He explains sheepishly.

I try to hide my laugh behind my hand but I can tell by the look on his face that I’m unsuccessful. “Don’t tell anyone else that story.”

“I won’t. I like my pride intact thank you very much.” He settles back down against the pillows to unwrap a throat lozenge, passing me one as well. I take in the small pout on his face as he fiddled with the wrapping and feel an ache in my chest.

“Fuck I’m really about to let my mom win.”

“You know, letting her win doesn’t mean that you lose.” He mumbles as he finally gets his throat lozenge unwrapped, popping it in is mouth.

“Yeah yeah yeah whatever, Plato. Are you my boyfriend or not?” I ask bluntly. Chucking a little when he nearly chokes to death on the lozenge.

“Yes! Shit, you can’t just say stuff like that without a warning. I’m sensitive.” I smile as I tuck my throat lozenge against my cheek. He pulls me over into his side of the bed so that my head is laying on his chest. His lips press against my forehead gently before grabbing the remote to rewind the show that we’d stopped paying attention to.

“You know it’s pill time right?” I ask with a grin on my face as his chest rumbles with a groan beneath me.

“This relationship already sucks.”

#btssmutclub #btsguild #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts smut and fluff #jhope smut #jhope x reader

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mybukz · 6 years ago

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Fiction: The Secret Beneath Her Moonlit Face by Peter Soh

Image by Alexis Antonio on Unsplash

“Ta chi, your sarong!” Annie pointed at her elder sister’s sarong.

Molly looked at her green sarong. “This shouldn’t be!”

It had been two months since Molly married Baba Lim Teck Yeong but, there was it again, the red stain.

“Stop being so hard on yourself. I heard that if you are overly stressed, your body won’t be doing its job. Give yourself some time,” Annie said, holding Molly, who was tearing up.

“You need to change before the men come back.” Annie tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Let’s have fun choosing which sarong to go with your pink kebaya!”

“Nya always bemoans difficulties matching you with potential suitors. They don’t know you have the most beautiful heart.” Molly looked up at her sister and smiled weakly.

“I wish I have a pretty face like you, ta chi. Things get easier when you have a pretty face. It is useless even if I can sew my kasut manek and cook an array of dishes to please those cocky mothers-in-law. In the end all they want is a pretty round face and a solid bum!”

“Shush! Nya will scream at you if she ever hears all these. Remember, we ladies have to take care of our decorum. Anyway, are you using bedak sejuk before you sleep? The talcum powder will lighten our skin colour.”

“I have been applying it every night but I guess it takes time.”

“Don’t put too much. Later it cracks when you smile!”

“And now you smile! Let’s get yourself changed.”

Molly put on a helpless smile. This was the second month she failed to get herself conceived. Her frustration was welling up. She wanted a baby, better still, a male baby, desperately. She was a step away from a proper and well-brought-up nyonya after trudging through heaps of demands on her 12-day wedding.

“It meant a lot to my family when my in-laws sent nasi lemak to them on the last day of the wedding. Nya minds about my chastity but I am more concerned with the pregnancy. I have to have a baby.”

Annie exclaimed, “Look at your sarong! Oh dear, it’s Oei Khing Liem’s hand! I can’t imagine myself wearing all these.”

Molly saw that Annie envied her sarong collection and her life—to marry a wealthy baba merchant and live a life indulging in buying all these gorgeous and majestic sarongs from Pekalongan. “You can have one if you like,” Molly said.

“What’s the point of wearing all these colourful sarongs when my skin colour is so dark. Don’t waste that kind of expensive fabrics on me,” Annie retorted.

“You are not ugly, Annie. You can wear them if you like. I don’t wish to stain them, if you get what I mean.”

“Ta chi, everything will be all right, okay?”

Then Molly’s mother entered the room unannounced. The sisters shot up from the bed.

“What are you girls doing?” Bibik Poh Choo was holding some tapai ubi.

Molly sat Bibik Poh Choo down. “I am giving some of my sarongs to Annie, nya. I thought you went out to play cherki. What’s the matter?”

“I managed to find a promising prospect for your sister. They are the Ewe family from Penang and they have this huge shipping business everywhere! Their youngest son has reached the time to get married and it will be a good thing if Annie marries into this family. I showed them her kasut manek and the cushion that she beaded and you know what? They are coming this weekend to have a dinner with your pa. We are using this chance to marry off Annie.”

The girls could see Bibik Poh Choo was eager for this mission.

Annie was silent. She was tired of all these endless manoeuvres where her needle works were assessed, cooking skills judged, and decorum evaluated. Even then, she wouldn’t be approved till the last day of the Peranakan wedding, when her chastity would be examined by squeezing lime juice onto a blood-stained cloth. Only if the blood did not run would she be accepted into her husband’s family and nasi lemak sent to her parents’ home in honour of her virginity.

“Nya, you clearly know they won’t want me after they see me. No one will want to take in a dark-skinned bride! Stop giving people false hope by showing off my kasut manek designs.” Annie said.

Bibik Poh Choo’s lips curled into a smirk. “Not this time, Annie. I have a solution.”

In the cloudless night the moon shone brightly down on the little town of Malacca. Shops were closed, household’s lights were switched off, and no one wandered the roads. At 11pm, the town came to a standstill, awakened sometimes by a splash of shower or a cry of a baby.

Molly’s trishaw trailed behind her mother’s. This was the first time both she and her sister went out at such a night. Uneasy and tensed, the sisters had not the faintest idea where mother was leading them. Their mother normally never allowed them to step out from the house when their sarong was coloured red. The trishaw riders pressed the pedals harder at mother’s instructions to speed away from the town.

“Where do you think nya is bringing us to?” Molly spoke softly, sure that even anyone who wasn’t asleep could hear her.

Annie gazed out at the darkness. “I have no idea. I can’t recognize the road.”

The trishaws halted at an alley. Bibik Poh Choo murmured thank you to the driver, her voice breaking the silence.

Annie thought the name of the alley, ‘Lorong Selamat’, was an irony. The bushes along the alley were so high that people could hide well behind the overgrowing wilderness.

“This place doesn’t look safe at all. One could get bit by snakes and people won’t even discover that someone has died here,” Annie whispered.

“Choy choy choy. Stop scaring me.” Molly smacked Annie’s arm and leaned on her. They waited, not caring to touch their feet onto the ground of Lorong Selamat. Bibik Poh Choo stepped down from the trishaw and beckoned her daughters with her batik handkerchief.

“Nya, where are we going? This place …” Molly rubbed her arms and held on tightly to Annie.

“Don’t ask so much. You will know later.” Bibik Poh Choo ordered them to follow her.

The two sisters looked at each other. The front panel of their sarongs flapped in the wind and the bushes rattled as if welcoming them. Molly and Annie hesitated but Bibik Poh Choo had already scurried into the dark alley. Not wanting to be left behind—did they even have a choice—Molly and Annie hurried behind their mother’s footsteps.

“Tuk, this is for you. Please help my daughter.”

Bibik Poh Choo knelt in front of an old man and handed him a red packet. The old man looked at Bibik Poh Choo and then Annie, as if he already knew which daughter was the one that needed his help.

“It’s not so much in there but my mother-in-law gave me this anting-anting when I was accepted into her family. The earrings are encrusted with berlian. The diamonds are of good quality. You will like it!” Bibik Poh Choo indicated the red packet, but the old man never uttered a word since they came in.

The old man’s house sat at the far end of Lorong Selamat, surrounded by frangipani and banana trees. Trees the Peranakan household wouldn’t plant because they attract spirits. Entering the house, they could smell the kemenyan, and see walls decorated with hangings with indecipherable writings. Besides fruits and candle wax, the floor was filled with things not normally seen in a household or temple, such as pots, stones, and leaves.

Molly and Annie knew instantly their whereabouts: the house of a shaman. The dim light prohibited them from making out the old man’s countenance. Only when they followed what Bibik Poh Choo did—kneeling in front of him—did they see his face. The shaman Tuk Ali had a thick white goatee, and his eyes seemed rapacious under black eyeliner. Annie kept her head down when she realised Tuk Ali’s gaze was on her.

“Lie down on the floor,” Tuk Ali spoke his first sentence.

Bibik Poh Choo was euphoric. She thanked Tuk Ali numerous times and instructed Annie to do what he said.

“You will get married this time, Annie! Tuk Ali will help you! Quick, lie down on the floor! Quick!” Bibik Poh Choo hustled up Annie.

“Nya, what are we doing?” Annie had no clue what was going on and what was going to happen. She was confused, terrified, not keen to follow orders.

“Yes, nya. What is going on? What is going to happen?” Molly chimed in. She was equally scared.

“Just listen to me. You are going to have a new life after this. You will not regret it,” Bibik Poh Choo assured Annie. “Just listen to me. Just lie down on the floor.”

To Molly, she said, “And you. Just keep quiet and don’t say a single word about what is going on tonight. Do you want your sister to have a good life? Just trust me.”

The two sisters couldn’t comprehend the situation; in fact, they had no idea how to respond to Tuk Ali and mother’s requests because everything was a mystery. From going out at night to stepping foot onto this unfamiliar setting, and from seeing their mother giving away her precious gift, to lying down on the floor, Molly and Annie failed to glean what their mother wanted done. They shivered, not knowing whether it was because of the sudden cold wind or they were petrified.

“Faster. Time is ticking,” Tuk Ali opened his mouth for the second time. “We have to do it when the moon is still full.”

“Faster, Annie. Just listen to Tuk,” Bibik Poh Choo exhorted.

Annie lay down on the wooden floor reluctantly. She couldn’t stop panting. She looked at Molly and her mother. She did not dare close her eyes. She wanted to know what was going to happen.

Without warning, Tuk Ali burst forth his chants and sprinkled some flowers on Annie. Annie continued to gulp and it seemed like the quicker she took in air, the louder the chants. In the chilly night, she could feel her kebaya drenched in sweat.

Tuk Ali groped for something on a pot. Annie couldn’t see what was on Tuk Ali’s hands. She squinted but the poorly lit house didn’t help. Distressed and uptight, she tried to catch Tuk Ali’s moves. His hands contained something—but it was too small to see.

And in no time, Tuk Ali inserted some minute objects into Annie’s eyelids. One on the left and one on the right. Annie felt a short sting but it quickly subsided. The chants had petered out and the house resumed its initial state, becoming still, void, and quiet once again.

“The ceremony is completed,” Tuk Ali declared. He moved the pot aside.

Bibik Poh Choo hurriedly pulled Annie up from the floor and brushed dirt off her back.

“See. It is fast.” Bibik Poh Choo tried to comfort Annie, who was still in shock.

Annie sat unmoving on the floor. She had yet to recover. Molly joined their mother, patting Annie’s back and telling Annie that everything was over.

“So, Tuk, are the taboos the same for my daughter?” Bibik Poh Choo asked.

Tuk Ali stroked his goatee. His job was now over and the moon was still shining brightly. “Yes. The taboos are the same. Never walk under the clothesline. Never walk near pokok kelor. Never eat things with skewer.”

“No worries. Our family never eat satay. It is so unladylike. Don’t worry, Tuk. I will remind her again.” Bibik Poh Choo seemed to know the taboos well.

“But…” Tuk Ali paused. “The susuk that I inserted into your daughter’s face is made of diamond. The charm needles are a rare material, and she must strictly observe the taboos. If not, your daughter will die.”

The trishaws stopped the nyonyas at the back of their house. It was 2a.m. and the streets were empty. But for safety, Bibik Poh Choo instructed the trishaws to go behind their house so that no one would spot them. After all, Annie was still a maiden and Bibik Poh Choo had to protect her daughter’s name.

“We are home, finally. Everything will be different from tomorrow.” Annie could see Bibik Poh Choo was hopeful of a new, if not a great start, for her.

Molly held Annie up as they went into the house. The two of them never spoke since the ritual finished. As they walked into their room, one of them screamed.

The house lit up, with Bibik Poh Choo and the servants running into Molly’s room. The girls were aghast and their faces pale. They were staring at something.

Bibik Poh Choo followed her daughters’ eyes into the ornately decorated room. Her eyes creased in horror. Baba Lim was on the floor, with the tapai ubi laid out beside him.

His face had turned completely dark and his eyes were wide open, looking like Baba Lim was out of breath.

Molly cried out. Annie trembled. The servants held their faces, not knowing who to call or what to do.

“How can my husband pass away like that? He is such a healthy man! I still want to have his baby! God, tell me why? Why!” Molly shrieked.

Annie remembered Bibik bringing into their room in the afternoon the tapai ubi. She was sure her mother had not left the banana leaves around the fermented tapioca opened. She was also certain Bibik had not pulled out from the leaves the skewer.

Peter Soh is an ambitious Malaysian writer whose stories are about darkness, pain, struggles, identity searching and what it means to be a human being. He made his publishing debut with his short story, ‘The Missing Tomb’ in the ‘Emerging Malaysian Writers 2018’ anthology. ‘The Secret beneath her Moonlit Face’ is his latest short story after ‘The Missing Tomb’.

#Peter Soh #the secret beneath her moonlit face #horror #macabre #fiction #malaysian literature #short story #supernatural

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sirfrogsworth · 7 years ago

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So I guess Europe created some new internet law. I haven’t researched what it is yet. But it has caused every service I’ve ever signed up for to send me an email for their new terms of service. I’ve gotten nearly a hundred emails from things I didn’t remember joining. I guess at some point I really needed to use Pastebin. A fine service, but not exactly something I have an ongoing use for.

I was also reminded of a very old Plenty of Fish account. I was very honest about my situation and income in my profile. Which led to a description of an ideal first date at Jack in the Box. I mean, 2 tacos for 99 cents is hard to beat.

I gave up on POF though. I got a bunch of messages that told me I had written the funniest, most original profile they had ever seen, but they didn’t date fat dudes. Which is fine. Attraction is an important aspect of a potential suitor. But I’m not sure that was a necessary detail to share. “You’re not my type” probably would have sufficed.

I have forgotten more services than I remember signing up for. I am excited to see others I have ignored. Perhaps Friendster will be sending me an email soon. Am I still signed up for MySpace? Who knows!!?? Does AOL still know I exist? Also, how is AOL still existing? I was almost positive they blew all their capital on free trial CD-ROMs.

Frogman’s Updated Terms of Service

If thou art following this here microblog, thou musteth be aware and agree to the following rules.

(I don’t know legalese so I’m going with poorly done Shakespearean to make it sound fancy. Klingon is available upon request.)

Thou must be cool with rambling walls of text.

Thou must be cool with a wide variety of topics. From light-hearted to deadly serious. I will attempt to tag difficult topics, but I cannot guarantee a perfect success rate. My memory is faulty and I cannot predict everything that may be sensitive subject matter.

Thou must be civil or thou gets blocketh'd. Disagreement is fine. Rampant assholery about said disagreement is less fine. I respect a well thought out argument and will give it serious consideration if the logic is sound. Spirited words are encouraged. Being a big meanie is not.

Thou must say they love corgis, even if thou preferest other breeds. I have been accused of living in many bubbles. The only actual bubble I maintain is “corgis are the best creatures on this earth." I ask thou not to poppeth that bubble.

If thine humble author makes an error, feel free to point out that error. All I ask is that before jumping straight to anger, give me a chance to consider your argument, correct any mistake made, apologize if necessary, and attempt to do better in the future. I am imperfect, but always willing to changeth my behavior in the quest to be better.

Anonymous messaging is for those who may be anxious, shy, or have trouble being social. Also to those who need advice, but disclosing their identity may exacerbate their issue. If thou needest that anonymous armor to communicate, I will happily alloweth that option.

Thou may also message me as thyself and request a private response. I will always respect that request no matter what thou mayest say.

Anonymous messaging is not for hate, trolling, or criticism without consequence. If you want to criticize my actions but cannot “say it to my face” I will take your words much less seriously. I will assume you are more interested in making me feel bad than you are about any supposed mistake I hath made.

If you abuse anonymous messaging more than thrice, thy will be blocketh'd.

All forms of hateful bigotry be unwelcome here. (Did I switch to pirate speak?) Including but not limited to... racism, ableism, sexism, misogyny, fat shaming, unwavering support of Donald J Trump, homophobia, transphobia, biphobia, xenophobia, and Islamaphobia.

Arachnophobia is acceptable because spiders want to be feared. Being creepy is an evolutionary defense mechanism that will get them stuck inside an upside down cup with a magazine covering the bottom and then freed into the wilderness (aka thine backyard).

Lastly, thou wilst ignoreth the inconsistency of my Shakespearean verbiage in thisseth Terms of Service.

Continued followership assumes you conditionally agree to these terms.

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rainbowravioli · 7 years ago

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#I will never stop loving them Me neither! They have me so blessed ; ; And you know what's the biggest tragedy in this whole mess? That the conflict between them appeared just because of some argument that might not be even true (aka Lotor killing Alteans). Both were confused, full of emotions...talk about damn high angst level. Truly star-crossed partners.

Oh I think Lotor absolutely killed Alteans. I mean, we saw it. Those people are dead.

I’ve seen all the meta about how Lotor never explained his side. I’ve noticed the inconsistencies like how those pods were so dusty and that the facility was clearly abandoned which leads to several questions like, how long did that operation go on? When did it stop? If it stopped it means no-one else got picked up to go to “the new colony” and that Lotor probably stopped dropping by. Didn’t anyone find that strange? Why didn’t Romelle mention Lotor stopping to come by? Did he just abandon the Altean colony altogether?

I can try to rethink this how many ways I want. I can argue Voltron betrayed Lotor by not letting him explain himself even when he tried and even when he had plenty of opportunities to have them all killed but didn’t (and he didn’t NEED them anymore at that point, so he could have). I can write about how this doesn’t fit Lotor’s personality or methods, or how Voltron accidentally ended up making Lotor’s arc carry the very unfortunate implication that no matter how hard you try to be better than your abusers you will end up like them. I can argue that the Blade of Marmora is out there doing atrocious things too in the name of peace. They’ve killed people, they’ve actively aided the Empire for the greater good. They are a super grey faction, but they are Good Guys.

But I’ve read the interviews, and I know the intention of the writers was not to make this a debatable, grey situation with some plot twist down the line about how Lotor was in the right. No, their intention was to make this The One Irredeemably Evil act Lotor has done, even though his intentions were ultimately good. It’s supposed to be his Big Betrayal. There is not going back from live-experimentation and life harvesting on thousands of innocents. And it was handled really poorly, in a very lazy way full of tropes I hate, and that’s what’s always going to make me angry about this situation. I would LOVE to be proven wrong down the line.

Also can I just say that my least favourite way of solving a love triangle in media is to make one of the potential suitors turn out to be ~evil~? That’s so, so lazy.

This did end up being more about Lotor than Lotura, didn’t it? So I’ll finish up by saying this. No matter how wrong they did the pairing in the end, what Lotura had was genuine, it was built on mutual respect and admiration. They were tender and openly vulnerable around each other and finding a sense of belonging they never found with anyone else. They did love each other. It wasn’t “shallow infatuation” or “Lotor using her for her powers” like I’ve seen people say. It was real, that’s what makes it tragic. I will always love them and I will always mourn what could have been.

#replies #voltron spoilers #lotor #lotura #Anonymous

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sunflowerseedsandscience · 7 years ago

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By the Dim and Flaring Lamps: Part Four, Chapter Two

NOVEMBER 1863 CULPEPER, VIRGINIA

Dana Scully has never been good at staying still.

Her parents have always told stories- her father fondly, and her mother with an air of patient exasperation- of how, even as a baby, little Dana had always been into everything, crawling early, walking early, and climbing early, leaving her parents and her older siblings to chase her all over the house. To hear Maggie Scully tell it, Dana had been very lucky to live long enough to see her first birthday.

As a child, she had had no patience whatsoever for her mother's endless embroidery lessons, preferring instead to sneak off to ride her father's horses, to trail through the alleyways of the town after her brothers, and later, once her father had finally broken down and agreed to teach her to shoot, to go hunting in the woods. Her mother had never approved of these expeditions, at least not explicitly, but since Dana had been a far better shot than either of her brothers (and even her father), Maggie had never minded the extra meat her daughter had brought to the dinner table. Feeding six people could be an expensive endeavor.

As she had gotten older, the only thing that seemed to be able to keep Dana Scully seated in one place for any length of time had been her studies. A devoted and conscientious student, she had far outpaced the lessons set for her by the local school, and her father, concerned that his youngest would not be challenged enough, had engaged a private tutor to take over her education. Her mother had balked at the idea, worried that the expense would be an extravagance (and quite possibly wasted on a girl), but William Scully had insisted. He had, himself, had great scholastic aptitude in his youth, and while his own parents had not had the means to help him reach his full potential, he had been determined that his daughter would be allowed to reach hers.

But still, in between her lessons, teenaged Scully had had very little patience for the quiet and ladylike endeavors her mother had tried to plan for her. And now, with only a year left in her teens, her abhorrence for inactivity persists. The army, with its daily drilling and frequent long-distance marches, had been ideal for her... but now, stuck lying in bed day after day, she's in a pitiable state.

During the first two weeks, Melissa brings her nearly every book in the house that she can find. Scully is dismayed to find that she has already read nearly every volume housed in Samantha Mulder's shelves, and has read at least half of her brother's. Bill Mulder's library is mostly comprised of ponderous religious tomes of dubious modern relevancy, and technical books on farming methods. Even less helpful is Teena Mulder's tiny collection of etiquette and outdated child-rearing manuals (though Teena has, to Scully's surprise, fairly recent editions of Charles Knowlton's Fruits of Philosophy and Robert Dale Owen's Moral Physiology, both of which she reads cover-to-cover with decidedly more than a theoretical interest). By the beginning of November, Scully has read everything on offer and is driving Melissa up the wall with her continuous requests for her sister to please let her out of bed before she expires from boredom.

"The more you rest now, the sooner you'll be able to go back to your regiment," Missy tells her, repeatedly, but as much as Scully knows her sister is right, it doesn't make her forced inactivity any easier to bear. She writes letter after letter to Mulder, often so many that the postman takes multiple letters from her on the same day. He writes back as often as he can, but as the regiment continues to move from place to place in Virginia, his responses are less frequent than she would like.

His letters are, however, overflowing with affection for her in ways that leave little doubt in her mind about where they stand with one another. She might have been hesitant when she had told her sister that she thought they'd agreed to become engaged, but Mulder has put her questions to rest once and for all.

"When this war is over," he writes, "I want to ride to Harrisburg with you, to meet your parents. Not just to tell them about your bravery, about how indispensable you have been to me as a lieutenant, but to make sure that they- and any other potential suitors- know that our future together has been decided. Whatever your mother and father might think of the manner in which we met and fell in love, I want to be sure that they know how proud I am to have a woman like you by my side."

Scully, for her part, is less concerned with her own parents' responses than with Mulder's.

"You need not worry about how my parents will react, Mulder," she writes him in response. "You're the oldest son of a wealthy landowner. Regardless of how we might have met, you are still a far more advantageous match than they could ever have hoped to make for either of their daughters. I'm certain they'll be too much in awe of you to turn you away. Your parents, on the other hand, are unlikely to be much impressed with a poor sailor's daughter who met you while playing dress-up in the enemy's army- especially given that they already have a far more suitable match picked out." Mulder is, predictable, dismissive.

"It doesn't matter whether or not my parents approve," he writes her. "This is my decision to make, and I choose you. There is nothing that anyone- not my parents, not your parents, not Diana- can say to me that will change my mind."

Much of this correspondence is, despite Scully's best efforts, read over her shoulder by her sister, who finds the entire thing deliriously romantic and does not hesitate to tell her so.

"It's just not fair, Dana," she complains, lying on her back on the corner of the bed, her arm thrown dramatically up over her forehead. "I left home and ran away to New York City in search of romance and adventure, and all I've gotten for my troubles is an overcrowded apartment that I'm forced to share with three girls who are all prettier than I am. You, on the other hand, run off and join the army and end up engaged to a rich, handsome landowner's heir."

"Let's not forget the part where I ended up with a musket ball in my belly," grumbles Scully. She's not feeling particularly well today, having slept poorly and woken with a stubborn cough, and she's less patient with Melissa than she might normally be.

"Still, I think even with that, you come out ahead of me," says Melissa. "And you're the youngest, for goodness sake. It was hard enough that you already had an offer of marriage long before me, with father's doctor friend- what was his name?"

"Daniel," sighs Scully.

"Yes, him. It was bad enough that he approached Father for your hand when you were practically still a child, but now you're going to actually be married before I've even had a man show the slightest bit of interest."

"Not necessarily," Scully points out. "Nothing is going to happen until the war is over. For all we know, it could drag on another ten years." She bites her lip. "Or one of us might not even survive. This was already a close call, and-" But she's cut short as she's shaken by a bout of coughing so long and deep that it pulls at her still-healing injury. Melissa sits up and watches her worriedly as she clasps her side in pain, struggling to get her breath back.

"That's the third time this has happened in an hour, Dana," says Missy, every last hint of whimsy gone from her voice. "And your face is getting whiter by the minute." She reaches out and feels Scully's forehead. "You're warmer, too."

"I may have a fever," Scully admits. She's been feeling increasingly lethargic all day, but until now she's been putting it down to the fact that she hasn't felt like eating much for the past few days, and Missy, anxious to avoid conflict, hasn't been pressing the issue. But now, as she works to master her breathing, she can't avoid facing up to the realization that something is wrong.

"What do I do, Dana?" Melissa asks. "Mother used to put cold compresses on our foreheads when we were sick. Should I do that?"

"It's probably a good place to start," Scully agrees.

"Maybe I should ask James," says Melissa. "If he doesn't know what to do, maybe one of the other servants here does." Scully shakes her head.

"None of the others will come in the house, even with Mulder's father gone," she reminds her sister. The few servants that have been left to take care of the plantation in its owners' absence are field hands, forbidden from entering the house, with the exception of James, who, Mulder had explained, had figured out Scully's secret the moment he had laid eyes on her. "I don't want-" But she's interrupted by yet another bout of coughing, this one worse, and by the time it finally subsides, Scully is completely winded.

"Close your eyes and rest, Dana," says Melissa, standing and removing some of the pillows that are propping Scully up, forcing her to lie back down flat. "I'm going to make a cold compress and... and...." She wrings her hands, clearly at a loss. "I'll have someone make you some broth. That will help, right?" Scully closes her eyes, too weary to argue.

"Sounds good," she says weakly, even though the idea of trying to eat something just now seems horrifically exhausting. Missy says something in response, but Scully is already drifting off to sleep.

She's not sure how much time has passed, or if she's even truly awake, when she next hears her sister speaking, having a hushed discussion with someone whose voice Scully doesn't recognize.

"You don't understand, I've never taken care of someone who's ill before," Missy is saying. "I've no idea what could be wrong with her, no idea what I'm supposed to do."

"Miss, there's no one nearby that we can send for," a male voice responds. "The doctor in Culpeper is with Lee's army. The only other people 'round here are the men who work the fields and tend the animals, and none of them are gonna set foot in this house, not even if Master Fox himself shows up and asks them. They're too afraid of his father." This, Scully thinks through her feverish haze, must be James, the house's caretaker.

"What about someone else from the village?" Missy asks. "Isn't there anyone you could ask?"

"And how do we explain what she's doing here?" counters James. "Everyone in Culpeper knows the Mulders, and everyone in Culpeper knows they're in Fredericksburg. If someone from the village sees the two of you, they're likely to write Master William and ask him about the two strange women staying in his house."

Don't send for anyone, Scully tries to say, but she can't quite make her lips obey. I'm fine, I'll be fine, don't let anyone find me here....

The voices fade, and Scully dreams... or, at least, she thinks she does. It's difficult to tell. She thinks she hears her mother talking, telling her to get out of bed and help her prepare the evening meal before her father and her brothers come home. Missy is off somewhere, her mother complains, and she'll never have everything ready in time without at least one of her daughters to help her out.

Scully tries to tell her that she can't, she's sick, she's too weak to get out of bed, but her mother takes no notice, bustling around Samantha Mulder's bedroom as though she knows exactly where everything goes, as though it were a room in her own house. Watching Maggie is making Scully dizzy, so she closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, her mother is gone, and there's only Samantha's room, the night sky visible through the windows, the room itself dimly lit by a fire burning low in the grate. She turns her head to look the other way, and her father is there, sitting in the armchair that Melissa had occupied some time before.

"Hey there, Sprout," he says, smiling warmly at her. "Looks like you've gotten yourself in a spot of trouble." Scully tries to answer him and finds that she can't, but her father seems to understand her all the same. "It'll all be all right soon," he promises. "You just hold on and stay strong now, you hear me? Won't be long now. Help is on the way. But I'm warning you, Sprout, it's going to get a whole lot worse before it starts to get any better." He smiles again, sadly this time, and Scully realizes that she can see right through him to the back of the armchair.

There's a cough, the smell of cigar smoke, and then Charles Spender is leaning over her, regarding her with an air of detached curiosity. She shies away from him, and he laughs... and as she watches, his face shifts, changing to the face of the surgeon who had treated her at Bristoe Station. His mouth moves, but Scully can't make out what he's saying. Melissa stands behind him, her face pale and anxious. The light from the fire seems too bright, and Scully closes her eyes against it... and when she opens them again, Spender has returned, and it's Diana Fowley who stands at his shoulder, smiling maliciously down at her. Sean Pendrell waits by the foot of the bed, watching her worriedly, and Scully wonders if he's come to escort her to the other side, to wherever souls go when their time on Earth has ended. She tries to tell Pendrell that she's not ready, that she can't go with him, that Mulder still needs her here, that she's sorry, so sorry that he had to die, but doesn't he understand that it will all be in vain if she agrees to go with him now? She has to stay.

Spender reaches out suddenly and yanks at the bandages covering Scully's wound, pulling them off and exposing the flesh of her midsection. As Scully watches, he rips at the injury and seems to shove his entire hand inside of it. The pain is immediate and all-consuming, and Scully writhes and screams, trying desperately to escape. Diana takes her left shoulder and holds her down, and someone else takes her right side. Scully looks up to see who it is, and Daniel Waterston sneers down at her, glorying in her pain, in her inability to get away.

The faces around her continue to blur and shift, until Scully doesn't know who is holding her down, Diana Fowley and Daniel Waterston or Melissa and Mulder. She doesn't know who is causing this terrible pain, the army surgeon or Charles Spender, or why they're doing this to her. All that she knows is that it goes on and on, and when at last it seems to be over, Scully can do nothing but lapse into a sleep that is blessedly and profoundly dark and dreamless.

When she next opens her eyes, Fox Mulder is gazing down at her.

"Mulder?" She can speak again, finally, though her voice is frighteningly frail, and her throat hurts terribly. She reaches towards him, trying to touch him and see whether he's real or just another vision, but she's so weak that her hand can't close the distance. He seems to understand, and takes her hand in his own, pressing it gently to his face.

"I'm here," he says. "I'm right here, Scully. And this time, I'm not leaving until you're completely well."

"What happened?" she asks, but this time, it's not Mulder who answers.

"You developed an infection," says a voice from the foot of the bed, and Scully looks over to see the surgeon from Bristoe Station. She hadn't been hallucinating him, then; he had really been here. Melissa stands just behind him. "I had to cut away the inflamed tissue and treat the wound with bromide. I'm sorry for the pain; I know it had to have been difficult to bear."

"This is Corporal Zuckerman," Mulder explains. "The same surgeon who treated you after you were shot." Scully nods.

"I remember," she says.

"Your sister sent for me when she couldn't bring your fever down," Mulder tells her.

"I didn't know what else to do," says Missy apologetically. "I could see that the wound was infected, but I didn't know how to treat it."

"I found Corporal Zuckerman and brought him with me," continues Mulder. "I had a feeling you would prefer a surgeon who already knew what he'd find under your wrappings." He grins teasingly at her, and she manages a weak smile in return.

"But won't you be missed?" Scully asks. "Both of you?" Mulder shakes his head.

"The army's gone into winter quarters," he explains. "I told Colonel Skinner what happened, and he gave both of us leave to go. Corporal Zuckerman needs to return soon, but I've been permitted to stay with you until you're well enough to come back to the regiment." Scully looks back and forth between Mulder and Melissa.

"It was you, holding me down?" she asks.

"You put up one hell of a fight," says Mulder, a trace of pride unmistakeable in his voice. "It took everything we had to keep you in one place long enough for Zuckerman to finish with you, even as sick as you were."

"You looked at us like you might kill us if you got loose," puts in Melissa. "Your face was as terrifying as I've ever seen it."

"I thought you were...." Her voice trails off. She's embarrassed, now, that her fever dreams had featured Diana. "Never mind," she says. "I must have been out of my mind with fever."

"I'd have to agree with that assessment," says Zuckerman. "And you're not out of the woods yet, by any means. I'm going to stay for a few more days, to make sure we've gotten a handle on the infection, and I'll leave medicines behind when I go in case the fever returns."

"Thank you, Corporal Zuckerman," says Mulder. "I don't want to even think about what would have happened without your help."

"Yes, thank you," chimes in Melissa. "From us, and from our family. It would have been awful for all of us if you hadn't been here." Scully, already exhausted from this brief conversation, smiles her gratitude at Zuckerman even as her vision begins to go fuzzy at the edges.

"We should let you rest now," says Zuckerman. He and Melissa begin to leave, but Mulder remains in place by Scully's side.

"I'll stay," he tells the other two. "In case she needs anything."

"Mulder," Scully protests, her voice muddled and sleepy, "I'll be fine. I'm not even going to be awake."

"I'll watch you sleep, then," he whispers, low enough so that the others, standing across the room by the door, can't hear him. "It's something I've missed doing since you've been gone." Scully relents, nodding her permission, and Zuckerman and Melissa leave, shutting the door softly behind them.

The last thing that Scully is aware of, as she drifts off to sleep again, is Mulder lying down beside her, tenderly stroking her face.

#X-Files Fanfic #my fic #By the Dim and Flaring Lamps

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