#posting this ONE LAST TIME bc i keep wanting to fiddle with the editing and it's either invisible in the tags or a total flop :')
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...ABBA really does go with any fight scene PART 2 (part 1)
#kinnporsche#kinnporsche the series#kinn theerapanyakul#porsche kittisawasd#vegas theerapanyakul#me to me: kp x abba would be a good goof#my brain: proceeds to take it way too seriously and think of nothing else#my kp stuff#vids#posting this ONE LAST TIME bc i keep wanting to fiddle with the editing and it's either invisible in the tags or a total flop :')#anyway this was extremely fun to make and my target audience (me) has been met
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covenant.
↳ your best friend’s engagement forces you to reevaluate your own feelings.
◇ hoseok x reader
◇ smut | angst | werewolf!au | f2l!au
◇ 16.4k [1/1]
⇢ arguably also an arranged marriage!au, ft. kinda sorta dumbasses to lovers? a very, very late bday fic for the most beautiful man in the universe and my favorite funky lil dancer. ♡
notes: i started this in my drafts well over three months ago and all it said was “this ain’t gonna be on time for hobi’s bday i can feel it” and damn if past!me wasn’t right on the money!!! this has undergone three edits, going from 14.6k to 16.4k somehow, and i am going to lose my whole damn mind if i don’t just post it so here it is! hope you enjoy!
warnings: dom!hobi, alpha!hobi, bit of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), some grinding against hobi’s thigh, knotting, hobi’s got a big dick idk, also he’s in heat!!! but things eventually get really soft bc i love him and am a Soft Bitch™ 🤷🏻♀️
It’s going to rain.
You can smell it in the air and feel the damp chill against your skin, permeating through every layer of your clothing. The surrounding forest and all its occupants seem to be collectively holding their breath, waiting for the first drops to come. Even your footsteps, soft as they are against the loamy earth, sound much too loud in the hush that’s fallen. Dark clouds gather overhead, looming like an omen, and you silently reach into your purse to check that the umbrella you’d stowed this morning is still there. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s big enough for two.
Around you, the trees slowly begin to dwindle, until there’s only open sky above your head and a wide grassy expanse beneath your feet. A certain heaviness lingers in the air here—a low thrum of energy, born from the ancient magic that sleeps in the gnarled roots of the tree that sits in the center of the clearing. You can feel it prickling along your skin, raising gooseflesh and igniting your veins, and the closer you get, the stronger the feeling becomes.
At the far end of the clearing, you spot a small crowd of people, all clad in black. Your best friend—and your entire reason for venturing out today—stands amongst them in a tailored suit, his black tie snug at his throat and laid atop a charcoal gray shirt. He’s chatting with his father and a few other family members, seemingly calm and collected, but you can tell from the sloppy knot of his tie and the way he fidgets with the hem of his jacket that he is anything but. After all your years of friendship, you can read Jung Hoseok like a book. His auburn hair is disheveled as if he’s been incessantly raking his fingers through it, and even at a distance, you can sense the turmoil in his aura, haloing him like the stormy clouds overhead.
Sensing your approach, Hoseok’s gaze flickers up to meet yours. He raises a hand in greeting and bids farewell to the people he’d been chatting with, picking his way over to you with a wan smile.
“Hey. You made it.”
“I wouldn’t miss this,” you reply, reaching out to take his hand. It’s warm and strong as always, but you don’t miss the slight tremor in his grip. “How are you holding up?”
He shrugs half-heartedly, a sigh escaping his lips and dissipating into mist in the wintry air. “As well as can be expected, I guess. It just… it all happened so fast.”
“I know,” you murmur, twining your fingers together in quiet reassurance. “I’m so sorry, Hobi.”
“Thanks.”
Slowly, his gaze flits to the center of the clearing where the ancient tree sits, traversing from the leafy canopy all the way down to where the gnarled roots disappear into the dirt. In its shadow sits a polished wooden casket, and you squeeze Hoseok’s hand gently as he walks closer, his eyes beginning to glisten.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone, you know,” he mumbles. “All these years of war, of negotiations and peace talks, finally seeing the Accords pass and the company flourish… and now he’s gone. Cancer. Just like that.”
His voice cracks on the last sentence, and you clasp his hand a little tighter. You know as well as he does that a healthy werewolf can live for well over a century, if not for the human genetics that remain susceptible to human weaknesses and disease. True immortality afflicts only the faeries and the vampires of your world—and even then, there are still ways that those folk can die.
“He lived a long life,” you say after a moment’s hesitation, grasping onto any semblance of comfort you can offer. Together, you and Hoseok come to a stop in the shadow of the tree, peering at the closed casket where his grandfather lays. “And it was a good, just life. Not all of us can say that.”
A lone, wet droplet falls onto the polished mahogany, and Hoseok hastily wipes his eyes, tilting his head skyward. “Not long enough,” he whispers. “He still had so much to do. I… I still have so much I wanted to do—to say. And now I’ll never be able to.”
You caress a thumb across his knuckles, the motion soft and tender. “I know. And I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
Hoseok glances down at that, a glimmer of something manic and desperate swimming in his amber-flecked irises. “You could,” he says, grabbing both your hands and clutching them to his chest like a lifeline. “You could bring him back. You know how, don’t you?”
You shake your head sadly, hating the way his frown deepens as you free yourself from his grasp. “That’s forbidden magic, Hobi. That’s necromancy. You know I can’t do that.”
Hoseok’s entire body sags, his shoulders slumping as he lets out a heavy sigh. Instinctively, you step forward to wrap him in a hug, and he loops his arms around your waist automatically, pulling you flush against him. “I know,” he mumbles into your hair. Then he huffs out a dry chuckle, humorless and deprecating. “Fuck. I’m a mess, huh?”
You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Instead, you hold him a little tighter, rubbing his back soothingly in long, slow motions—the same way his mother used to do during bedtime. His heart thuds erratically in his chest, fast and frenzied like a caged bird, but lulls as you continue your ministrations, settling into an even rhythm once more.
“Thank you,” he murmurs after a few moments, his warm breath caressing your cheek. “For coming today. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“You can do anything, Hobi,” you reassure, running a thumb along the sharp line of his jaw when he raises his head to look at you. “With or without me. But… you’re welcome, all the same.”
Your presence at this funeral is unusual, and both you and Hoseok know it. Werewolf packs tend to keep their rites and ceremonies private, and the Gwangju pack is no different. Led by Hoseok’s father, and his late grandfather before him, the werewolves of the city have rapidly risen to prominence and power, aided in large part by the founding of JungTech. The company, started by Hoseok’s grandfather, began as a small operation in a battered old warehouse, but quickly grew to become one of Gwangju’s biggest corporations after the signing of the Accords twenty years ago. The peace treaty marked the start of a tenuous coexistence between humankind and Shadowfolk, and, together with your fellow witches—along with the werewolves, vampires, and the few fair folk who decided to leave their homes deep in the forests—you migrated into cities all over the country to forge new lives.
It’s proven easier for some. While the wolves of the city have found tolerance—acceptance, even—you have not fared quite as well. Humans, you have found, tend to fear the ancient magic that runs through your veins. Though nothing you’ve faced comes remotely close to what your ancestors faced in centuries past, you remain wary of those who take a little too much interest in your abilities.
You’re a bit paranoid, your familiar, Bast, has remarked on more than one occasion. But it’s justified, so I suppose it’s all right.
As if sensing that your thoughts have turned to him, Bast stirs in the back of your mind. You feel him yawn and stretch lazily before there’s a tug on the soles of your feet, as if the force of gravity has suddenly, inexplicably doubled. Then he’s materializing—morphing out of the spot where your shadow would be if the sun were shining, taking the form of an inky black cat with sharp, golden eyes. Hoseok perks up when Bast loops between his ankles, and immediately squats down to scratch behind his ears, a small smile settling across his face as a low, content purr rumbles up from beneath his fingertips. From elsewhere in the clearing, a single howl rises up into the air, forlorn and wavering.
It’s starting, Bast says in your head. At the same time, Hoseok straightens to his full height, fiddling with the hem of his black jacket and looking over at you tentatively.
“Sounds like they’re getting started,” he says.
You nod. “I should go.”
Hoseok opens his mouth as if to protest—as if to say no, stay—but you know better and cut him off with a single raised finger.
“I’ll go,” you murmur. “This is a private rite, and I don’t want to break centuries of tradition by overstaying my welcome. Go join your pack, Hobi.”
“Will I see you later?”
“Without a doubt.”
Your parting gesture is to reach out and grab his hand, tucking a little drawstring bag into his palm and closing his fingers over it. “Valerian root and chamomile,” you tell him gently, taking in his rumpled collar and the dark bags beneath his eyes. “Make some tea tonight. It’ll help.”
Hoseok swallows and nods, his features softening as he gazes down at his hand cupped in your smaller ones. He looks like he wants to say something, but another howl interrupts, disrupting whatever thoughts he may have had. Instead, he nods again, murmuring a soft goodbye before turning on his heel to join the rest of the pack gathering around the raised casket. You turn as well, leaving behind the ancient clearing with Bast trotting by your side.
Up above, the heavens finally open, drenching the dirt path beneath your feet with rain. And behind you, the single howl is joined by dozens more, echoing mournfully up into the weeping sky.
///
You’re in the middle of straightening out a display of dittany when the kettle begins to boil, emitting three short, shrill whistles accompanied by a long stream of whirling steam. When silence falls over the shop once more, you wander over to where the kettle sits—atop a small wooden end table next to an old wardrobe. It’s an old relic that’s been passed down through generations of witches in your family, wrought out of silvery metal and suspended in an iron frame above a single lit candle. The flame is glowing pink, flickering in a nonexistent gust of wind, and you smile. Quietly, you grab two teacups from a nearby shelf.
Not two seconds later, the door of the old wardrobe creaks open, revealing the familiar face of Kim Seokjin behind it. A fellow witch and a good friend of yours, Jin has made a name for himself as a baker, running a café in Seoul that offers all sorts of confections—both with magical properties and without. His hair is dyed a muted dusty rose—a stark contrast to the casual black hoodie and jeans he’s wearing—and you reach out to push a stray lock back from his forehead in lieu of a greeting.
“Your hair’s pink again,” you remark. “I like it.”
Jin grins, his plush lips pulling back to reveal perfect teeth. “Thanks.” Carefully, he steps out of the wardrobe and shuts the door behind him. A beat of silence passes, and you take the opportunity to select a canister of tea leaves. You don’t miss the flicker of solemnity that settles into Jin’s features, though, listening as he clears his throat before voicing the question that is undoubtedly the reason behind his unexpected visit.
“So. How’s Hoseok holding up?”
Jin has never been one to mince his words. You suppose you appreciate that about him.
Quietly, you lift the kettle out of its stand and beckon for him to join you at the little wooden table at the front of your shop. It’s tucked neatly into the nook carved out by one of the two bay windows on either side of the front door, flanked by two well-worn, mismatched chairs. Atop it sits a pile of books—everything from ancient remedies to common household spells.
One book in particular always sits open—a detailed list of all the herbs and plants you carry in your shop, along with the various concoctions you’ve created with them. Hellebore, the spine of the book reads, and it’s the same word that graces your storefront in flowing, golden text. An apothecary of sorts, you spend your days dealing out potions and remedies to those in need, both human and Shadowfolk. You do your best to help, for all the times modern medicine has come up short and left someone wanting.
“Honestly? I don’t think he’s been sleeping.” You set the teacups down onto the table and fill them both before handing one over to Jin. “I saw him this morning, at the funeral. He looked exhausted.”
Jin’s brows disappear behind his pink hair. “You went to the funeral?”
“I didn’t stay,” you clarify, taking a sip of your tea. “Just wanted to drop by, say hello, and pay my respects.”
“Werewolves are a private bunch,” Jin remarks. “I’m surprised.”
You shrug. “Hoseok wanted me to be there. So I went.”
“I see.” He doesn’t say anything further, and neither do you, lapsing instead into a comfortable silence that’s broken only by the occasional sip of tea and the clinking of china. Your gaze wanders, drifting over to the front door of your shop, painted a cheerful green and set with a flowery stained glass window that throws kaleidoscopic rainbows across the cream walls and dark wooden floor. Sunlight streams through the wide bay windows, illuminating the interior in warm, hazy gold. On the other side of the room, Bast is curled up, fast asleep on his favorite plush bench beside the glass door that leads to the greenhouse, perfectly haloed by the sun.
“Must be nice being able to fall asleep anywhere,” you mutter, almost to yourself.
Jin hears you anyway, a chuckle escaping his lips. “You sound jealous.”
“Maybe I am,” you reply, laughing with him. “Speaking of which, where’s Adam? Did he stay home?”
Jin nods, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the wardrobe. “Yeah, he’s keeping an eye on the café. Told me to say hi to you for him, though.”
You giggle at the thought of Jin’s familiar, a long-haired sheepdog with a stubborn streak the size of the Nile and blatant disdain for following orders—especially those that come from Jin himself. “Keeping watch, or trashing the place?” you tease.
“With my luck, probably both,” Jin admits with a sigh. “I should probably get back there soon. He ate all the egg tarts last time.”
“Bring him with you next time,” you advise. “Bast will keep him entertained.”
He grins. “I don’t doubt it.”
Finishing off the last of his tea, he stands up and taps the rim of his cup, murmuring a soft cleaning spell under his breath. You smile gratefully as he replaces it back onto the shelf with the others, and stand to walk him back over to the wardrobe. Opening up the creaky door, you watch him clamber inside, standing amongst the hanging coats and the single pair of shoes on the bottom shelf.
“See you later,” you murmur. “Give Adam my best.”
Jin nods. “See you.”
He shuts the door, and you watch the flame of the candle once again turn a soft, roseate pink. It flickers briefly, dancing in an invisible breeze, before reverting back to the color of regular fire, signaling Jin’s departure. Quietly, you clean your own teacup and return it to the shelf.
The remainder of the afternoon passes with few customers, so you opt to close down early and head to your apartment, located up a short flight of stairs on the second floor of the shop. You’re rifling through the refrigerator for dinner ingredients and humming softly under your breath when your phone suddenly rings, Hoseok’s name lighting up the screen in bright white text. “Hey, Hobi,” you say, swiping across the glass to answer. “What’s up?”
On the other end of the line, Hoseok exhales shakily. “Can you come over?”
You blink, glancing at the darkening sky outside. “Now?”
“Yeah. Fuck, sorry. I know it’s late, but I really… I really need to talk to someone. I—” His voice cracks, and your heart sinks. “I need you.”
“Say no more.” Straightening up, you shut the refrigerator door and tug off your apron. “I’ll be there in half an hour. Have you eaten yet?”
Hoseok sighs. “No.”
“I’ll bring takeout,” you decide, already glancing around for your purse. “See you soon, okay?”
Bidding him farewell, you don your coat and head out the door, locking up behind you. Hoseok lives downtown in a sleek, modern penthouse that’s normally a twenty-minute walk away from Hellebore, but after stopping by the restaurant on the corner for food, you opt to catch the bus instead. Fifteen minutes after you hang up the phone, you are rapping the bronze knocker on Hoseok’s front door, a paper bag and a bottle of wine in hand.
Almost instantly, the door is flung open. Hoseok stands in the threshold as if he’s been waiting there, his auburn hair wild and his eyes even wilder. His aura is turbulent, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You raise the bag. “I brought dinner.”
“You’re the best,” he sighs, stepping aside to let you in.
Hoseok’s apartment toes the line between modern and cozy in a way that only Hoseok’s apartment could—with lush green plants and plushy, earth-toned furniture to offset the cold impersonality of the floor-to-ceiling windows and the stainless steel kitchen. Flicking on the kitchen light, you set the food down on the granite countertop and grab two wine glasses out of the cabinet. Hoseok sidles over as you pour a generous helping into each glass, rifling through the silverware drawer for utensils.
“Smells good,” he murmurs, popping a box open. “I’m starving. Thanks for bringing dinner.”
You brush off his gratitude and hand him a glass, raising yours so you can clink it gently against his. Quietly, the two of you fall into a comfortable routine, with Hoseok grabbing the food and you grabbing the bottle of wine to bring into the living room. You help him clear off the coffee table and arrange the food, then settle onto the couch beside him, sipping your drink in silence and patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts. Years of friendship have taught you that he’ll talk when he’s ready, and you’re content to wait as long as he needs.
Sighing, Hoseok tips the rest of his wine back into his mouth before setting the empty glass down with a soft plink. “So,” he begins, not quite looking you in the eye. “My dad and I had lunch today.”
You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue. He takes several more seconds to muster up the words, and when he finally finds them, they’re exhaled in a tumbling rush. “He told me that he’s pleased with how I’m running JungTech. It’s been over a year, and things are going well… so he wants to expedite my takeover of the pack. In two months, he wants me to take over as the alpha. And…” He swallows. “He wants me to settle down.”
Perturbed, you blink. “What?”
Hoseok finally looks at you, his expression frighteningly devoid of emotion. “He wants me to get married, {Name}.”
Comprehension doesn’t settle in right away. But when it does, your jaw drops to the floor, landing somewhere alongside the ornamental persian carpet and a stray sock that has no doubt jumped ship from Hoseok’s laundry.
“W-what?” you manage after a few long seconds of gaping at him. “Why? Why now? That’s so… that’s completely out of the blue.”
Hoseok shakes his head, a few shaggy strands of auburn hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “It’s not, actually. He’s been talking about it for a long time—trying to arrange something with one of the other pack families. It’s tradition, you know? Mating within the pack, keeping the bloodlines pure through marriage. The difference is that Pops always talked him out of it. Always said I was too young, that there was no rush, that I should wait for someone I love, my true mate...” He sighs, heavily. “But he’s gone now. And Dad’s decided that he’s done waiting.”
You shouldn’t ask. You shouldn’t, because you know it’ll hurt, but the question comes regardless—leaving your lips in a near whisper. “Who?”
Hoseok takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he exhales. “Do you remember Im Nayeon?”
You do. You’ve known Nayeon almost as long as you’ve known Hoseok—the three of you having attended the same schools starting from elementary all the way up until Hoseok left to attend university in Seoul. Admittedly, you were never close—and if you were completely honest, you always found her to be a bit disingenuous for your tastes. Nevertheless, you often found yourself at the same events—parties and gatherings you attended at Hoseok’s request, and that she was privy to due to her family’s high-ranking status within the Gwangju pack.
“I remember,” you tell him, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. “Does… does she know yet? Have you met up with her?”
Hoseok nods. “She was there this morning, at the funeral. We talked a little bit and got coffee after, but… this is all happening so fast.” Slowly, he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, a sigh escaping his parted lips. “But there’s nothing I can do, right? It’s enough that Dad’s somehow talked Mom into the whole thing, but now he’s gotten the Council on board too. Did you know that Nayeon has an uncle on the Council? It’s insane, right?”
“Insane,” you agree in a whisper, doing your best to ignore the way your heart is splintering at the edges.
“You know, I always thought my Dad pressuring me was bad.” Hoseok buries his face in his hands, peering at you from between his splayed fingers when you hum in acknowledgment. “But this? The entire Council on my back? This is way worse.”
“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else there is to say. Your ribcage feels like it’s been split open and filled with burning coals, weighing hot and heavy on your insides.
Hoseok has dated in the past, of course. You both have—chasing that elusive, fluttery feeling called love and never quite being able to catch it and hold on. Hoseok’s last relationship fizzled long before he graduated from university, having lasted only about six months. You distinctly remember meeting the girl during one of your frequent visits to Seoul, at a small party hosted by Hoseok and his friends. By your next visit, however, things had already ended. He never really told you why the breakup occurred either—only that the relationship never would have lasted in the long run.
Perhaps foolishly, you chose not to pry.
“Is there anything I can do?” you ask softly. Reaching out, you take ahold of his hand and tug it into your lap, threading your fingers into the gaps between his. The gesture is familiar and comforting, like cocoa in front of a lit fireplace, and you can’t even begin to fathom the idea of another person sitting here and holding his hand in your stead.
“Just talk to me,” Hoseok entreaties, squeezing your fingers. “Distract me. What’s going on with you?”
You hum, swallowing down the lump in your throat and letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you pick through the events of the past week for the most interesting tidbits. “Bast has been bringing me dead rats lately,” you finally say, nose scrunching at the memory. “You should see the size of them—they’re almost bigger than he is. And they smell like the sewers, because I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s where he’s getting them from. It’s horrid.”
Hoseok huffs out a stilted laugh. “Sewer rats? Gross.”
“It’s not all bad, to be honest,” you tell him, nestling a little closer to the warmth of his body. Hoseok keeps his apartment chillier than you’re accustomed to, and you’re beyond grateful for the furnace-like heat he gives off naturally. “The bones are pretty useful. The tails too, provided you don’t tell people what they actually are.”
His laugh is much more genuine this time. “Tricky little minx,” he says, amusement lacing his tone. “I’ve always liked that about you.”
You ignore the uptick in your heart rate at his approval, grateful that he can’t see your face as a pulse of heat flushes your cheeks. Instead, you burrow into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Hoseok smells like the forest—fresh and woodsy, with a slight floral undercurrent from his fabric softener. It smells like home, and you smile when his arm comes up to wrap around your shoulders.
“Jin came by today,” you murmur.
“Yeah?” The monosyllabic response rumbles through his chest.
“Yeah. He asked about you, too. You should probably text him later.”
Hoseok hums a confirmation, and, satisfied, you cuddle a little closer to him. You pull at the afghan he keeps laid over the back of the couch, laying it comfortably over your lap as he rests his head gently atop yours, his ear pressed to your crown. Your eyes fall shut as you listen to the rhythmic thud of his pulse—solid and steady, backed by the soft hum of the refrigerator and distant traffic on the street far below.
It’s comfortable, sitting with him like this. Comfortable, stroking his arm with your fingertips, in time with the drumbeat of his heart. Ever so gradually, Hoseok’s breathing evens out, and you briefly think that you could stay like this—encapsulated in this delicate, iridescent bubble of contentment—for the rest of your life.
You know the thing about bubbles, though? Bast remarks dryly in your head. They burst.
I know, you sigh.
I know.
///
There’s something soothing about taking inventory—something calming in the repetition of walking down the aisles of Hellebore and restocking the shelves one by one. You’d woken this morning to an apologetic Hoseok making pancakes in the kitchen, his residual heat and woodsy scent lingering on the blanket tucked around your body. After a harried breakfast and a promise to text you later, Hoseok rushed off to the office.
You, in turn, returned to your shop, where you grabbed every ounce of cleaning supplies you possess and scrubbed the place from top to bottom, foregoing all of your usual dishwashing charms and dust-clearing jinxes. The physical labor is a welcome distraction from the events and revelations of last night, and you’ve thrown yourself wholeheartedly into all the chores you need to complete.
“Almost out of rosehip oil,” you mutter, eyeing the half-empty vial and making a note to extract more from one of several plants in your greenhouse. “Low on valerian too, hmm…”
The bell over the front door jingles merrily, diverting your attention away from your task. “{Name}?” a voice calls softly. A moment later, a familiar head of coppery red hair pops around the edge of the shelves, choppy bangs framing a soft, warm face. “Hey, there you are. You busy?”
You shake your head and shut your inventory book, setting it down on the nearest shelf. “Not terribly, no. What brings you here today, Lisa?”
Lisa’s answering smile is sheepish. “Got something to return,” she says, holding up a little glass jar full of lavender colored pills that you immediately recognize. “I’m guessing you’ve already heard the news. Looks like I won’t be needing these anymore, right?”
Your laugh sounds brittle, even to your own ears. “Right. Yeah. Not anymore.”
For just over ten years, Lisa has been the wolf assigned to help Hoseok through his heat. Between his family’s status and his longtime designation as the next alpha of the Gwangju pack, it’s imperative for Hoseok to avoid anything that might be perceived as scandalous. Torrid sex stories splashed across tabloid covers is the last thing a man like Hoseok needs, and that’s where Lisa comes in. Once a year, for three days, she goes to him, and no one is none the wiser. Her job is one that calls for the utmost discretion, and as the daughter of a high-ranking Council official, no one understood that better than she did. You’d only found out because of your role as one of the few witches in the country who makes and stocks the proper contraceptives for such wolves—the dosage much stronger than the human equivalent.
And when Lisa had first approached you to purchase the pills, you’d dropped two jars and nearly set fire to a third. Your stomach had fallen to somewhere around your toes, right alongside the shattered glass and little lavender tablets.
You’d chalked the accident up to surprise. Hoseok hadn’t mentioned anything to you, after all, and you’d known very little about the intricacies of werewolf heats back then, having just opened your shop at age eighteen. But surprise doesn’t explain the snaking jealousy that bubbles up in your tummy every time Lisa comes in to restock her supply of pills, nor does it explain the overwhelming sense of relief you feel now as she presses the unopened jar into your hands.
“I still can’t believe he’s going to be the most powerful man in Gwangju soon.” Lisa steps back, tucking her hair behind her ear and letting out a soft sigh. “And now he’s engaged, too. It’s pretty crazy, huh?”
“Crazy,” you agree tonelessly, turning to replace the jar onto the appropriate shelf.
Lisa, however, is nothing if not perceptive. A gentle hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey,” she begins, soft and slow. “You know you can talk to me, right? Are you—?”
But the sound of the bell drowns out the rest of her question, metallic and bright in the quiet of your shop. “Hello? Anyone home?” a cheery voice asks.
“Be right there,” you say immediately, shrugging off Lisa’s hand and stepping out from amongst the shelves. There’s a young woman standing at the checkout counter, rifling through the collection of seeds on display, and you cringe as she replaces a few packets in the wrong spots. “How can I help you?”
At the sound of your voice, the woman turns gracefully on her heel, her expression a perfectly crafted amalgamation of surprise and delight. “{Name}!” she exclaims, stepping forward with an outstretched arm. “Long time no see!”
“N-Nayeon,” you stammer, the shock of seeing her face freezing you in place. “What… what brings you here?”
The dark-haired woman steps forward to pull you into a hug, enveloping you in her fruity perfume. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to catch up with an old friend?” she asks playfully.
We were never friends, you want to say. In your head, Bast lets out a derisive snort of agreement. Lisa, you notice, has conveniently melted away somewhere amidst the organized chaos of your shop, disappearing into the myriad shelves and knickknacks.
“Plus, I really wanted to look at some flowers,” Nayeon continues, betraying her true purpose at last. “You’ve heard, haven’t you? About my engagement? I’m sure Hoseok—I mean, my fiancé—has mentioned it to you, of all people. You are his best friend, after all.”
The inside of the shop is beginning to feel stifling. Perspiration trickles down your neck and you tug at your collar, loosening the material from where it’s plastered against your skin. “Sure,” you manage, once you feel like you can breathe again. “Right. Sure. The flowers are right this way, if you want to follow me.”
I’d forgotten how much I don’t like her, your familiar remarks dryly in your head.
Shut up, Bast.
Mercifully, he does. There’s a tug on your feet, and you glance down just in time to see him morph out of the shadow you cast against the sun-drenched floor. Ghostly and amorphous at first, he quickly solidifies into the feline figure you’ve grown accustomed to, and slinks protectively around your ankles before darting off to perch in the cushioned bay window seat.
Conveniently, that’s also where the flower display is. Colorful blooms and trailing leaves adorn the wooden shelves and tables in this particular corner of the shop, and you force yourself to shift back into professional mode as you come to a stop in front of an assortment of honeysuckle. “So, what kind of flowers are you looking for?” you ask, brushing your fingers along the pale yellow petals.
Nayeon hums thoughtfully and picks up a potted rosebush, examining it from all angles. “Roses, maybe. Are roses too clichéd now?” She brings the crimson buds closer and inhales, eyes fluttering shut. “No matter. I’ve always liked them.”
“They’re beautiful,” you agree, turning your attention to the selection of roses lining the topmost shelf. “Do you have a color preferen—?”
“Or maybe these would be better,” Nayeon interrupts, plucking up a pale pink calla lily from the bouquet you keep in a table display. “Or that one—what is it?”
You follow the trajectory of her gaze to a bunch of little white flowers with golden centers, stark against the dark dirt and surrounding green foliage. “That would be bloodroot,” you answer. “One of my personal favorites—it’s both ornamental and medicinal. It would look lovely in a bouquet.”
Nayeon pulls a face and shakes her head. “No, no—I don’t want anything with such a horrible name. What about these?” she asks, reaching up to take a closer look at a larger bloom. “Peonies, right?”
By the time Nayeon makes it back to the checkout counter with a few sample rose cuttings in hand, you’re fairly certain that several eternities have passed. “Is there anything else you need?” you ask as you ring her up and wrap the flowers neatly in paper.
“A discount for an old friend?” she queries, shooting you a playful wink. When you don’t answer right away, she giggles. “I’m kidding! Obviously, I’ll pay. It’s not like I’m pressed for money—I mean, you’ve seen who my fiancé is, right? Now gosh, where did I put my wallet?”
Your cheeks are beginning to feel far too hot. Nayeon is still rummaging in her purse, and you quickly duck beneath the counter under the pretense of looking for some ribbon to tie off the bouquet. Fanning your face, you take a few deep breaths, listening as she continues chattering away.
“We’re having dinner tonight, actually, Hoseok and I. It’ll be our second real date, and… wait!” She gasps, and you peer up just in time to see her slap a hand over her perfectly lacquered mouth. “You should come! Bring someone, if you can—it’ll be like a double date!”
If you can? Bast snipes. Curse her.
You sigh inwardly and straighten back up, ribbon in hand. Shut up, Bast.
If you won’t, I will.
You’ll do no such thing.
Mustering up your best, most earnest smile, you hand over the wrapped flowers along with her change. “That sounds like fun,” you tell her, ignoring the way your insides lurch at the lie. “When and where?”
Nayeon beams and rattles off the address of an unfamiliar restaurant. “Don’t be late!” she calls as she heads for the door. The bell jangles cheerily as she departs, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, Lisa pokes her head around a nearby bookshelf.
“Finally,” she sighs, walking over to join you. “I thought she’d never leave.”
Ordinarily, you wouldn’t dare speak ill of a customer, but you’re willing to make an exception today. “You and me both,” you reply, watching as Bast slinks over like a shadow and hops onto the counter beside you. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your elbow in silent solidarity, and you mindlessly begin scratching behind his ears as Lisa speaks again.
“Are you really going to go to that dinner tonight?”
You meet her gaze, shrugging. “I already said I would. Do I really have a choice?”
There isn’t much else to say, and both you and she know it. Pushing off from where she’s leaning against the countertop, Lisa flips her coppery hair over her shoulder and shoots you a look, brown eyes full of sympathy. “Good luck,” she says sincerely. You get the feeling that she wants to say something else, but decides against it at the last minute. Instead, she bids you goodbye and walks out with a wave and another chime of the bell. Silence settles over the shop once more, and you allow yourself a few moments to breathe—slow and deep, in and out—before picking up your phone and opening up the most recent text messages. It doesn’t take long to find the name you’re looking for, but you still pause, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before you begin to type.
[4:21pm] You: how would you like to join me for a very awkward dinner date?
[4:21pm] Jin: consider me intrigued.
///
You and Jin arrive at the restaurant first. It’s an ornate, palatial place with tuxedoed waitstaff and a coat room, and despite giving the name ‘Jung’ at the door, you’re certain that Hoseok played no part in the venue selection. The host ushers you to a booth tucked in the back, the cushioned seats a velvety burgundy and a chandelier glittering overhead, throwing refracted, iridescent light across the veined marble table. All of a sudden, the simple black dress you’re wearing feels painfully inadequate. Glancing down at your feet, you wonder if you should have worn heels instead.
Beside you, Jin cuts a striking figure in a creamy silk shirt with ribbons that tie into a bow at his throat, the material loose and flowy up until where it tucks into fitted black slacks. His pink hair complements the elegant outfit perfectly, parted and swept off his forehead to reveal his dark brows.
As if reading your mind, he lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You look beautiful,” he says, before gesturing at the booth. “Now, do you want the inside or outside? Think you’ll need to make a quick getaway at some point?”
“Probably,” you sigh. Jin nods and sits down first, and you watch him slide across the seat cushion before settling in beside him. “I still can’t believe you volunteered to be here,” you murmur, plucking up one of the folded cloth napkins and fiddling with the crisp white edges. “You’re a saint, I swear.”
Jin chuckles and plucks the napkin from your clasped hands, laying it across your lap instead. “Not a saint,” he says, matching your soft tone. “Just someone who cares about you.”
Your cheeks warm at his sudden proximity. “Thank you,” you tell him, for what must be the umpteenth time. “I can’t even imagine what I’d do without you.”
“Good thing you don’t have to, then,” he replies with a grin. “Now, chin up. They just walked in.”
You can’t help the groan that escapes you. “Is it too late to run?”
“Afraid so,” he answers honestly.
And then Nayeon is slipping into the cushioned seat opposite you, syrupy smile in place on her berry lacquered lips. “Hi!” she chirps, laying a hand on Hoseok’s arm as he sits down beside her. “Sorry we’re late. We, um…” She pauses and shoots Hoseok a conspiratorial look, giggling. “... lost track of the time.”
Your magic flares, hot and bright in your veins, and you know Jin feels it too when he lays a cautionary hand on your knee beneath the table. “We weren’t waiting long,” he says, offering the two a genial smile. He’s perfectly polite as he and Nayeon exchange quick introductions, and gestures toward the assortment of menus on the table as soon as everyone has settled down. “Why don’t we order some wine to start?”
“Oh, that’s a splendid idea! Isn’t that a splendid idea, Hoseok?” Nayeon turns to the auburn-haired man beside her, and you do the same, gaze landing on Hoseok for the first time tonight. He’s in an all black ensemble, sharp jacket layered over a silky black shirt, the top buttons loosened to bare a tantalizing sliver of golden skin. His auburn hair is parted, a stray lock falling across his forehead, and you shiver when you realize he’s staring right back at you with dark, unreadable eyes.
At the sound of Nayeon’s voice, Hoseok seems to snap out of his trance, his expression smoothing out as he plasters on a smile. “Take a look at the menu,” he says, picking up the leather-bound book and offering it to her. “Dinner’s on me.”
You blink. “We can’t let you do that, Hobi.”
“Let me pick up at least part of the tab,” Jin adds, already reaching for his wallet. “I’m no corporate bigshot, but I do well enough for myself.”
“No need to be modest,” you chime in, nudging him playfully. “Weren’t you just telling me about your new restaurant opening on the way over? Next week, right?”
Jin’s ears redden as all the attention is turned onto him. “Next week, yeah.”
“That’s amazing!” Nayeon chirps, pressing closer to Hoseok. “We’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe a date night, right, darling?”
Hoseok busies himself with rearranging his cutlery, swapping the knife and fork around. “Right—sure. If we ever make it up to Seoul, we’ll, uh… we’ll definitely stop by. Congratulations, man.”
The conversation continues. A server stops by to take your wine order, and Jin decides on a moderately priced bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Glasses are brought over, and wine is poured. Hoseok finishes his quickly and pours himself another, and though his wolf metabolism prevents him from getting drunk off of regular wine, you know that he’s a bit of a lightweight and tends to avoid drinking heavily no matter what the beverage. He’s drinking with a purpose tonight, and you’re beyond grateful when Jin pipes up with yet another story when the conversation lulls.
“And then I found out that the oven was on the whole time! Adam would probably let the entire apartment go up in flames just to spite me—I should watch my back.”
“Or, you know, just watch the oven more closely,” you tease. “I’ve seen your place, Jin—it’s a complete fire hazard. It’s a wonder it hasn’t burned to the ground already.”
Jin sniffs. “You’re exaggerating. Stop making me look bad.”
“You make yourself look bad,” you retort, laughing when his lower lip juts out into a pout.
Across the table, Hoseok clears his throat. “Speaking of fire hazards—did I ever tell you about the time {Name} set me on fire?”
“I did no such thing!” you protest, reaching over to slap his arm. “I mean, okay, maybe a little bit, but that was one time! And you were barely singed!”
Hoseok snorts out a laugh. “Barely singed? I couldn’t sit properly for a week.”
“Oh please, that’s a lie and you know it!”
Nayeon interrupts your conversation with a loud huff, setting her wineglass down with enough force to thud against the veined marble tabletop. “Do one of you maybe want to fill us in on the joke here?”
Abashed, you glance back at Hoseok, watching as his smile slowly fades back into the careful, neutral expression he’s worn all evening. “Sorry,” you murmur. “It’s an old story from when we were kids—when we first met, actually. We were seven years old, and it was the second day of school. I didn’t have a very good handle on my magic yet, and accidentally set Hoseok’s tail on fire during recess.”
“I preferred to run around in my wolf form back then,” Hoseok further elaborates. “There was a big field out behind the school—remember that, {Name}?”
You nod. “Of course. It went right up to the very edge of the woods. And if you kept going and went far enough, you reached the old wooden bridge.”
Hoseok is smiling again, soft and fond. “That thing was a death trap.”
“But the teachers could never keep us away,” you say, grinning at him.
“All right,” Nayeon interrupts again, sniffing disdainfully. “Enough about the old days—I think it’s time to talk about the present. And more importantly, the future.” She sighs happily and props her chin up in her palm, ensuring that the delicate golden band on her ring finger is on full display, the metal glimmering in the warm light. “You’re both invited to the wedding, of course. And I never did properly thank you for the flowers today, {Name}!”
Her words seem to come as a surprise to Hoseok, who straightens up in his seat. “Flowers? You visited Hellebore today?”
“Of course I did!” Nayeon hides a giggle behind a manicured hand. “I wouldn’t even think of trusting anyone else with my bouquet.”
Hoseok’s gaze skitters over to you, awash with concern and tinged with apology, but you ignore him in favor of forcing your expression into something that’s meant to be a smile. Yet no matter how much you strain your cheeks and stretch your lips, it feels—and looks, you’re sure—far more like a grimace.
“I’m happy to do it,” you lie, your teeth gritted and tight. “I don’t mind it one bit.”
///
“So. That was just as awkward as promised.”
You and Jin are walking back to Hellebore, leaving behind the bustling downtown area for the darker, quieter streets of your neighborhood. Your companion’s hair is tinged orange in the glow from the streetlamps, and you can only chuckle humorlessly when he turns to you and raises his eyebrows.
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I was duly warned,” Jin agrees.
A car drives by, the headlights throwing Jin’s profile into stark relief. His expression is solemn but he doesn’t say anything else and neither do you. The remainder of the walk passes in silence, broken only by the occasional strain of conversation from passersby and the low drone of late night traffic. You reach Hellebore with no incidents, and you muffle a yawn as Jin steps into the wardrobe to go back to Seoul.
Just before he shuts the door behind him, he shoots you a meaningful glance over his shoulder. “You should tell him how you feel, you know. He deserves to know. And you… you deserve to be happy.”
He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t need him to. Long after he’s gone, his remark echoes in your head, and no matter what, you simply cannot seem to shake it.
///
It’s been years since you’ve last gone to the old bridge, but after last night’s conversation you find yourself pulled back, lured by the promise of memories of a kinder time. The forest beyond the field hasn’t changed much since your school days, and neither, you realize, has the bridge itself. It still stands tall, proudly spanning the steep ravine that your teachers warned you about, the rickety wood splitting apart at the seams and overgrown with lichen and climbing ivy. Far below, the white-capped river rushes by on its long, turbulent journey to the sea.
Carefully, you step onto the bridge—first one foot, then the other. The energy in the air shifts as soon as your feet leave the loamy earth, finding traction instead on hewn wood, and you sigh as your fingertips brush against the railing. The magic here is an old magic—different from the ancient magic that dwells in places like the werewolves’ clearing and the realms of the fae. The low thrum of it fills the air and seeps into your veins, quickening your pulse and prickling your skin.
“I thought you might be here.” The voice comes from your left, barely audible over the rush of the river.
“You thought right,” you reply, stepping forward until you’re toeing the railing and leaning over to stare down into the swirling, eddying waters below.
Hoseok joins you at the edge. His profile is stark against the leafy green backdrop, and for a few moments, all is still. Then: “I’m really sorry about last night.”
The apology hangs in the silence for a few moments before fading into the sound of churning water and wind whistling through the trees. You suck in a deep breath, oxygen swelling your lungs until you can hold it in no longer, before letting it escape in a resigned sigh.
“You don’t have to apologize to me, Hoseok.”
“Maybe not. But I want to.” He shoots you a sidelong glance. “Will you let me make it up to you?”
You raise a brow. “Make it up to me? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
“Anything you want.” Hoseok smiles crookedly, but you can’t quell the tumult brewing in your belly.
“What do you want, Hobi?”
His smile fades. “I—” He stops and shakes his head, auburn hair flying. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is about you.”
You gaze up at him, taking in the sharp cut of his jawline and the straight angle of his nose. Your eyes trail along the smooth slope of his rounded cheeks and the soft curve of his mouth, lingering on the little mole atop his upper lip.
And then you reach out and take his hand, savoring the way his fingers immediately, comfortably settle into the spaces between your own. “Why don’t we head down to the river?” you ask. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been, and I’ve missed it.”
Hoseok’s expression softens, a glimmer of something bright shining in his amber-flecked irises. Gently, he tugs on your hand, taking the lead as you leave the bridge behind and head north in search of the sloping path that will take you down and into the ravine that houses the riverbed. You chance a few glances over the treacherous edge, watching the water froth and tumble over the rocks.
“You know, this seems a lot more dangerous now than it did back then,” you muse. “I see why our teachers were always trying to keep us away.”
“We were kids back then,” Hoseok says, grinning. “We thought we were invincible. Nothing could touch us.”
“Simpler times,” you agree with a laugh. “I set your tail on fire, you cried—”
“—and then we became lifelong friends,” Hoseok finishes, joining in your mirth. “Easy-peasy.”
Together, you locate the path down to the ravine. The descent is easier than it was back then, your longer limbs extending your reach, but you’re grateful for Hoseok’s steadying hand all the same. He carefully guides you around the biggest rocks and tree roots, pulling you closer when you lose your footing near the bottom. His fingers remain twined with yours even after you’ve safely arrived at the riverbed, stepping across stones that have been worn smooth and warmed by the sun. You slip off your shoes, letting them dangle from your free hand, and Hoseok does the same.
Sunlight glitters off the water, throwing a thousand refractive diamonds across the surface, but when you dip your toes in you find that it’s cold as a mountain spring in autumn. That doesn’t stop Hoseok from bending down to splash you though, and you shriek in surprise before retaliating with a silent spell that sends icy water splattering across the faded denim of his jeans.
“That’s not fair!” he protests. “You can’t use magic!”
“I’m just using every resource available to me,” you reply with a sly grin, sending a swelling wave of water toward him with a lazy twist of your hand.
From beneath his drenched hair, Hoseok raises a challenging brow in your direction. “Oh yeah?”
Before you can even blink, he’s shrugging off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head, baring a taut, honeyed abdomen and toned arms. Tossing the discarded clothes onto the bank, he unfastens his belt and lets that drop as well, fixing you with a crooked little smirk all the while. The muscles in his torso ripple.
And then he’s shifting—limbs elongating and reddish-brown fur sprouting from his skin. His remaining clothing rips under the strain of the transformation, floating downstream in tattered shreds, but you don’t pay them any mind. No matter how many times you’ve watched Hoseok shift, you’ll never quite get used to it. He hunches over, more beast than man at this point, his chest rumbling. And before you know it—before you can even pinpoint exactly when the transformation is complete—he’s standing before you as a massive russet wolf, baring ferociously sharp teeth that you know could easily tear a man limb from limb.
His eyes, however, remain the same—warm, molten brown flecked with amber and gold, a devilish twinkle lurking in their depths. You cock your head to the side in a silent challenge, and swear that the wolf in front of you grins before pouncing forward, landing in the river with an enormous splash that leaves you thoroughly drenched.
“Now we’re both soaked!” you cry in between giggles, watching as Hoseok emerges from the water, his fur dampened black and dripping. “How is this a win for you?”
Hoseok rears back and lets loose a triumphant howl, shaking himself out and further drenching you with the spray of water from his coat. You squeal and back up several steps, batting him away, but Hoseok just presses closer and nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck. His body heaves with every breath, flaring hot against your skin, and for a few long moments, you simply stand there, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as icy water rushes past your ankles.
After what feels like an eternity, you step back, releasing Hoseok and staring up into his face. Even in his wolf form, he towers over you, and you reach up to stroke his muzzle tenderly before bopping him on the nose. “Come on,” you murmur. “Let’s dry off.”
Hoseok lets out a low rumble of agreement, and together, you make your way back to shore. You fold up his discarded clothing while he trots off to locate his shredded jeans, quickly finding them caught between some rocks and carrying the denim tatters back over to you in his teeth. Shaking your head, you add it to the growing pile and lay a hand atop it. Heat concentrates in your fingertips, mingling with the magic running through your veins. Stitch by stitch, his jeans repair themselves, drying in the process. Hoseok bumps your cheek with his nose in gratitude and darts off to change, and you dry your own clothes while you wait.
When Hoseok returns, he’s reverted to his human form, fully dressed and raking a hand through his damp hair. “Thanks for drying these off,” he says, flashing you a sheepish grin. “And for fixing my pants. Again.”
“Mending charms are easy,” you reply, and it’s the truth. Over the many years you’ve known Hoseok, you’ve mended his clothing countless times—from the accidental transformations in his early years, before he could control it, to the calculated ones as he got older. Hoseok doesn’t shift terribly often nowadays, but on occasion he still goes out to stretch his muscles and hunt with his pack. His grandfather, in particular, always made the time to take him hunting at least once a month. You wonder if he’s gone since he passed, but decide not to ask.
“Should we go see the Towers?” you ask instead.
“Lead the way,” he agrees, falling into step beside you as you head downstream. The ravine walls are higher here, decorated with gnarled roots and rocky outcrops that obscure the periwinkle sky and cast long shadows across the ground. Cairns begin to crop up on both sides of the river—each tower of stones carefully and deliberately stacked. They’re small and scattered at first, but gradually become taller and more frequent until you’re nearly surrounded by a forest of stone. The air grows noticeably heavier—the magic more potent. It almost feels as if electricity is dancing across your skin, the sparks sinking into your pores and melding with your soul.
Hoseok feels it too, if the look of awe in his eyes is any indication. “I can’t believe I’d nearly forgotten about this place,” he marvels, running a finger across one of the stacked stones. “Do you feel that? The magic?” Then he chuckles. “Wait, of course you do. What am I talking about?”
You smile softly, tracing the path his fingertips leave behind. “Yeah, Hobi. I feel it.”
The topmost stones are almost out of your reach now. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a gray pebble about the size of your palm—a near perfect disc veined with white. Gently, you place it atop the cairn closest to you, watching it glint in the sunlight for a moment before turning to your companion.
“Well?”
Ancient legend dictates that as long as an offering is left, one may take a stone from the Towers. You and Hoseok have each acquired a rather sizable collection during your childhood years, lured by the promise that the stones will bring about good fortune and happiness.
“I forgot to bring something,” Hoseok admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “But I can pick one out for you. Hang on…” He hums thoughtfully as he scans the towering pillars, tapping his chin until he alights on one in particular, plucking up a stone that’s been worn smooth, burnished orange and marbled with ivory and copper. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” you reply, admiring the way the marbled surface glitters in the sun.
Hoseok takes your hand and places the stone gently in your palm. “It’s yours.”
Then he’s off—stepping over a fallen log to admire another tower, brushing a curious finger across a moss-covered rock before glancing over his shoulder at you. “Coming?”
You nod, tucking his gift away safely in your pocket. Together, you carve out a path amongst the towering cairns, clambering over river rocks and brushing aside the dense undergrowth. The path opens up again gradually, revealing the burbling water to your left and the steep ravine wall to your right. The river is calmer here—clear enough to see all the way to the bottom where shimmering, silvery fish dart about. A low, flat rock juts out into the water a short ways away, and Hoseok strides over to plop atop it, gesturing for you to join him.
“This is nice,” he sighs once you’ve made yourself comfortable by his side. “The fresh air is doing me a world of good. I’ve been cooped up at the office for so long, I swear I almost forgot what trees smell like.”
“You’re more than welcome to sniff around the shop if you ever need a reminder,” you tell him, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Better yet, I’ll bring you a plant for your office. Spruce up the place a little bit.”
“That sounds great, actually,” he admits with a chuckle. “I don’t have your green thumb, though. I’ll probably end up accidentally killing it.”
“Something low maintenance, then,” you promise. “A succulent, maybe. When should I bring it by?”
Hoseok’s expression sombers. “You can always stop by tomorrow after the hearing.”
Your heart plummets into your stomach. The Ministry—the overarching government body that dictates all Shadowfolk affairs—summons every pack alpha for a confirmation hearing when they first come into power. “They’re holding the hearing? Already?”
He nods. “The Ministry’s summoned me for tomorrow morning. First item on their schedule, I’m pretty sure.” A resigned sigh escapes his lips, dissipating into mist on the air. “And there’s a party at JungTech HQ afterward. You know. So my dad can officially hand the reins over.”
“The most powerful man in Gwangju,” you murmur, thinking back to Lisa’s words.
Hoseok lets out a derisive snort. “Yeah, right. The most powerful man, beholden to his dad, the Council, and the entire fucking Ministry. It doesn’t matter what I want to do. Never has.”
It’s the second time he’s dismissed his feelings, and as much as you want to ask what it is he truly wants, you find that the words are stuck in your throat, your mouth suddenly as dry as the desert on a cloudless day. Instead, you lay a silent hand over his, feeling his warmth seep up into your palm.
“Hey.” Hoseok doesn’t tear his gaze away from the sky, watching a flock of birds fly overhead. “Yesterday, when Nayeon said she’d stopped by… did she say anything to you?”
The sound of her name leaving his lips leaves a sour taste on your tongue, but you swallow it down. “Not really,” you tell him. “She looked at some flowers and invited me to dinner. Simple as that.”
Hoseok nods slowly, lips pursed. “Was Jin already there when she came?”
You blink. “Jin? Oh, no—no, he wasn’t. I texted him after Nayeon left.”
“Ah.”
“I’m glad he was free, though.” You stare down into the water, where a curious fish swims in and out of the shadow you cast. “I’m honestly not sure who I could’ve invited if he hadn’t been available. Plus, it’s been ages since I’ve had dinner with him, and it’s been a few months since you’ve seen him too, right? I’m really happy it worked out.” You’re rambling now, but you can’t stop yourself. Hoseok has become eerily still, lost in introspection, and you feel obligated to fill the silence.
“You two make sense, you know.” Hoseok’s voice comes suddenly. “As a couple. Both witches—it makes a lot of sense.”
You peer over at him, eyes widening at his assumption. “We—we’re not actually together, Jin and I. We’re just friends.”
Hoseok straightens at that, his gaze flitting down to meet yours. “Really?”
“Really.”
A beat of silence. Hoseok looks like he wants to say something else, but a quiet buzz from his pocket stops him in his tracks. His mouth clamps shut as he checks his phone, teeth clicking together, and you can tell from the sudden tension in his jaw that it isn’t good news.
“Do you have to head back?”
He nods stiffly, silent apology written all over his face. “Work calls.”
You offer him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow after your hearing.”
He nods again and turns to leave. Before he can take too many steps, though, you call him back, reaching into your pocket to pull out the stone he’d gifted you earlier.
“Take this,” you murmur, pressing it into his hands. “I’m pretty sure you need it more than I do right now.”
Hoseok’s fingers curl protectively around the stone, holding on like it’s his only remaining lifeline. “Thanks.”
///
Downtown Gwangju is a monochrome forest of towering glass and steel, clamorous and unchecked by nature, proudly defiant in the face of the earth mother herself. The sidewalks are awash with people rushing back from their lunch break, forcing you to dodge around several businessmen too absorbed in their phones. Just as you are finding your footing again, a hapless intern carrying a tray of coffee cups rushes past, nearly crashing into you.
“Oh, shi—sorry! Sorry, oh, jeez. Are you okay?”
You wave off his apology with a smile, taking in the ill fit of his suit and the messy knot of his tie. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching out to help him steady the tray in his hands. A stabilizing spell—silently cast, the magic pulsing through your fingertips—should be enough to get him back to his office with no additional mishaps. You wonder if he’ll notice that his tray is suddenly more well-balanced, or that his hands have steadied.
But then again, you suppose it doesn’t really matter whether he does or not.
Somehow, someway, you make it to JungTech without running into anyone else. The receptionist recognizes you immediately and points you toward the elevator with a smile, and you thank her as you press the up button. It doesn’t take long to arrive, and you take a deep breath as you step inside, staring at your reflection in the mirrored walls.
All right? Bast queries, stirring awake in your mind.
You release the breath that you’d been holding in a long whoosh. Yeah. I’m all right.
The doors open on the top floor, and straight away, you are assailed by a cacophony of sounds. Scattered conversations and laughter intermingle with the clinking of champagne flutes. There are at least fifty people scattered around the open space that lies between the elevator and the glass-fronted CEO’s office at the very back—the office that bears Hoseok’s name on the door. There’s no sign of the man himself, but you have no doubt that he’s nearby. This entire party is a celebration for him, after all.
The elevator doors begin to close, and you quickly reach out to stop them, stepping out before it can protest at your dawdling. A young man in a pristine white shirt materializes on your right with a tray full of champagne flutes, and you pluck one off with a murmur of thanks. Sipping slowly, you wander around the perimeters of the party, listening to the lively chatter. Across the room, you spot Lisa, returning her friendly wave with one of your own.
“Hello, {Name}.”
The deep, familiar voice has you whirling around in an instant, head bowing in automatic deference. “Mr. Jung,” you murmur, not quite daring to look him in the eye. “It’s been a while.”
Hoseok’s father inclines his head in acknowledgment, salt-and-pepper hair gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights. No doubt he was a handsome man in his younger days, but the salt in his hair has steadily overtaken the pepper in the last few years, the stern lines around his mouth deepening.
“I didn’t know you would be joining us today,” he says cordially. “But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised after all these years. Have you been here long?”
“Not long. Five minutes, maybe.” Beneath his piercing gaze, you feel like a small child again. Quickly, you scramble for something else to say, gesturing around the sleek glass interior of the office. “This is a lovely party. You must be so proud.”
Another nod. “I wasn’t sure that Hoseok was going to step up,” he admits. “I had my reservations about whether or not he would accept his duties as a Jung, but he has, and I’m pleased that he did. It’s no easy feat, running this company and leading the city’s pack. But I’ve served my time, just as my father did before me.” His gaze flits down to meet yours suddenly, and you find that you can’t read the emotion swimming in them. “I believe I spotted you at his funeral the other day, did I not?”
You nod, resisting the urge to take a sip from your nearly empty champagne glass as your cheeks warm under the scrutiny. “I was, yes. I’m very grateful to have had the opportunity to pay my respects. He was a great man.”
“That, he was,” Mr. Jung agrees. “Hoseok takes after him in many ways. My father—as great as he was—always had a soft spot for the boy. Coddled him a bit too much.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Jung, I think that’s a grandfather’s job,” you reply with a smile.
That earns you a smile in return, the lines around his mouth easing. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Hoseok’s father excuses himself to talk to the other guests, and you set off in search of Hoseok himself. You can feel his aura somewhere nearby, strong and steady, but the room is large enough that you cannot pinpoint his exact location. Not for the first time, you curse the fact that you don’t have a werewolf’s sharp sense of smell. No doubt it could easily be as cumbersome as it is helpful, but it would certainly help you right now.
Turning a corner, you are about to continue lamenting your average olfactory system when you suddenly catch a glimpse of familiar auburn hair, afloat in a sea of black suits. Dodging around a sharply dressed businesswoman and ducking beneath a waiter’s serving tray clears your path to Hoseok, and you’re milliseconds away from stepping forward to greet him when you feel it.
There’s an energy emanating from Hoseok, the likes of which you’ve never felt from him before. It’s heavy and commanding and so potent that the air is laden with it, and a cursory glance at the people surrounding him reveals that they feel it too—their gazes lowered, voices hushed and respectful. In his fitted black suit and emerald green shirt, he looks every bit the alpha he is, and you are quickly realizing that you’re not immune to the power radiating off of him. The Hoseok standing before you isn’t the same Hoseok whose tail you set on fire all those years ago. Far from it. The revelation is somehow simultaneously terrifying and thrilling, and your heart leaps into your throat when you notice that he’s waving you over.
As if compelled, you comply, striding forward until you’re standing before him. “Hi,” your murmur, suddenly feeling shy.
Hoseok’s face splits into a smile. “Hi yourself,” he says, and you would have laughed if your insides didn’t feel like they were about to burst.
“I, um. I brought you your succulent,” you tell him, reaching into your bag. There’s a tiny potted jade plant inside, packaged neatly into a box that you open up and present to him. “It’s jade. Easy to keep alive, and easy to propagate too, if you’re inclined.”
Hoseok accepts your gift, his smile growing as he admires the plump green leaves. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
You shrug and wave off his gratitude, fiddling to clasp your bag shut. “So,” you start, glancing around and gnawing on your bottom lip, completely missing the way Hoseok’s eyes darken as he follows the movement. “It looks like everything went well at the Ministry. Your dad is pleased.”
Hoseok hums, low in his throat. “You talked to him?”
“Yeah, just now.”
“I see.”
He looks like he wants to say something more, but he’s interrupted by a blur of motion and a shrill cry of his name. A moment later, Nayeon is at his side, latching onto his arm and batting her lashes, adorned in a form-fitting red dress and golden jewelry.
“Hoseok! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Then her gaze alights on you, eyes going wide as if she’s only just noticed your presence. “{Name}, oh my goodness. I almost didn’t see you there, hi!”
“Hello, Nayeon,” you grit out, unable to hide your scowl. You wonder if she spotted it before you hid it behind a large sip of champagne.
Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice. Her attention refocuses onto a spot behind you, and you watch as her expression lights up, delight etching across her features. “Mr. Jung!” she exclaims. “There’s my favorite future father-in-law. Come and join us—it’s not a party without you.”
Hoseok’s father chuckles lightly, coming forward to stand beside you. “Long time no see,” he jokes, nodding in your direction. “And Nayeon—hello. How are you enjoying the party?”
“Oh, I’m having the loveliest time,” she chirps, simpering up at Hoseok. “How could I not be, when my fiancé is here with me?” Then she smiles—her lips painted the same shade of red as her dress. “But I’m sure I’m nowhere near as happy as you are. You must be beyond excited to spend some quality time with your wife after being busy for so long.”
“I am,” Mr. Jung admits. The severity in his features softens as he seeks out his wife, standing across the room surrounded by friends and extended family. “I’m a very lucky man to have a woman like her.”
Nayeon giggles. “And I’m a lucky woman to have a man like your son. Isn’t that right, darling?”
She tilts her head to look up at Hoseok, who blinks twice in rapid succession, his throat bobbing. “Right,” he says, his voice raspy. “The luckiest.”
And as you turn to engage Mr. Jung in conversation once more, you miss the way his gaze lingers on you.
///
Tuesdays at Hellebore are for brewing. You save bottling for Thursdays—giving your potions and other concoctions ample time to simmer and set—but today, you are hunched over the stove with all four burners turned to different temperature settings, watching over your pots so that they don’t boil over.
A cursory glance out the window tells you that it’s well into the afternoon, the pastel blue sky littered with trailing clouds lit hazy and golden in the sun. You’ve been in the kitchen since early morning, and, desperate for a breath of fresh air, you crack the window open and inhale deeply. Then you turn back to the stove, giving one pot a stir and adding a pinch of burdock root to another.
Wandering downstairs, you head to the greenhouse. The sunlight is brighter here, the air more humid. Inhaling deeply, you breathe in the scent of the hundreds of plants growing inside, before heading for the laburnum tree in the far corner. Carefully, you brush aside the cascading golden flowers, about to gather the dried ones that have fallen to the dirt when there’s a knock on the front door.
“I’m sorry, we’re close—” you say, stopping when you recognize the head of coppery red hair in the window. “Lisa?” Confused, you open the door and let her inside. “What brings you here today?”
“You need to go to Hoseok, now,” she says, foregoing any preambles. “He’s… well, you’ll see. Nayeon’s there right now, but she’s not helping the situation, and...” She sighs. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can help him now.”
All at once, your stomach drops to your toes. “What’s wrong with Hoseok?” you demand. “Is he hurt?”
Lisa shakes her head, red hair flying. “No, he’s fine. I don’t know how much longer that’ll last, though.”
The cryptic response sends your heart into overdrive, pounding against your ribcage like a doomsday drum. Striding over to the bay window, you wake Bast from his nap in a slanted ray of sunlight, scratching behind his black ears and watching as his golden eyes flicker open, pupils going wide when he senses your turmoil.
What is it?
Hoseok, you reply shortly. Beneath your touch, Bast’s ears perk up.
What do you need?
You swallow, hard, and suck in a deep breath. I’m going to open a portal.
It’s a dangerous feat, and both you and Bast know it. Opening a portal requires an immense amount of energy, and maintaining one long enough to travel through is a risk to even the most experienced witches. You’ve heard horror stories of spliced limbs and paralysis, and in some cases, even death.
But for Hoseok, you’re willing to risk it all.
“Lisa,” you say, grabbing your purse and striding back to the front door of the shop. “Can you lock up once I’m gone?”
She nods nervously. “Of course.”
You incline your head in silent thanks. At your feet, Bast is slinking continuous figure-eights around your ankles, betraying his worry at the task ahead. Your own heart feels ready to spring out from your ribcage and onto the sun-drenched floor, but you swallow down your nerves and look down at your familiar once more. Ready? you ask.
Ready, Bast confirms. Be careful.
I will.
Closing your eyes, you begin to visualize Hoseok’s front door, focusing on every little detail you can remember. There’s the scuff in the black paint from when he first moved in and accidentally scraped a table leg against it. There’s the bronze knocker that always hangs slightly askew. The image builds slowly in your mind, coming together like the broken pieces of a puzzle.
The air around you is suddenly much warmer than before, an invisible force sapping away at your strength and weakening your legs. Bast’s energy melds with yours, but it’s barely enough to keep you on your feet. Exhaustion seeps into your bones and steals the oxygen from your lungs. You gasp, chest heaving.
I don’t think it’s going to work. Bast’s voice is a faint whisper in the back of your mind.
It will, you hiss. It has to.
The front door of your shop is beginning to glow white, becoming hazy and amorphous as the edges begin to blur. You spot a splash of black paint coming through the fog, followed by a bronze knocker. A matching handle appears a moment later, growing out of tendrils of mist and solidifying before your eyes.
Sucking in a deep breath, you reach forward to grab it. Slowly, you turn until you can turn no longer.
And then you step through.
The first thing you hear is a low, cavernous rumble—deep enough that you feel it reverberating through your very bones. Then your surroundings begin to come into focus. You’re in Hoseok’s entryway, all your limbs thankfully intact. The relief you feel at your success is quickly eclipsed by worry though, when you see Hoseok himself on the far side of the living room. The look in his brown eyes is nothing short of wild, his white shirt unbuttoned to nearly his navel and his auburn hair sweaty and disheveled.
“H-Hobi?” Your voice is no more than a breath, dissipating in the open air.
“Hoseok.” The new voice has you whirling. Nayeon is pressed against the wall opposite him, her expression harried. “Hoseok, please—“
“Get out,” Hoseok growls, his voice dangerously low. He’s bristling with the same energy as before, the same energy you felt back at JungTech—but this time it’s enough to fill the room and spill out the opened door and into the hallway. You can feel it pulsing against your skin, hot and electric, and know that Nayeon is even more affected from the way her shoulders slouch, her eyes dropping to the floor when he snarls. “Get out, now.”
She does. Nayeon turns on her heel and dashes out, slamming the door behind her and leaving you alone with Hoseok. His eyes are alight with something more wolf than man, his chest heaving with uneven breaths, and it’s all you can do not to shrink back when he turns his full attention onto you. Even from across the room, you can smell the liquor spilled across the coffee table in a dark ooze of fluid, cloying and bitter.
“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asks, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “You shouldn’t be here right now, {Name}.”
“Lisa told me to come,” you whisper. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much, Hoseok.”
Hoseok shakes his head and rakes a frazzled hand through his hair. “You need to leave,” he grunts. Shakily, he reaches out to right the overturned liquor bottle, the pad of his thumb skimming across the shattered edge.
“Let me do that,” you tell him, making to step forward, but Hoseok stops you with a raised hand and a low growl that stops you in your tracks.
“Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t you dare come any closer to me.”
You shake your head. “Hobi, it’s obvious you’ve been drinking. Let me help you.”
“No!” he snarls, flinching back when you take a step forward. “You need to leave. It’s… it’s dangerous for you here.”
“Dangerous?” Your voice is reduced to a whisper at the severity of his reaction, the energy in the air intensifying until it’s almost unbearable. “Why?”
“Because I’m in heat!” Hoseok spits. He sucks in a deep breath, the air whistling between his teeth, before he lets out an agonized moan and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m in heat,” he repeats, reticence dripping from every syllable. “I can’t even fucking think straight, and I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you if you stay. So please, {Name}. Please go.”
“But Nayeon…” you begin, wavering when his eyes flash darkly at the mention of her name. “Or Lisa… I can call her, maybe—”
“No!”
You jump, startled at the volume of his shout.
“No,” Hoseok repeats, softer this time. “Don’t. I don’t want them. I’m—I’m fine.”
The sticky humidity and the pulsating energy flowing through the room tell you otherwise. “You’re clearly not,” you tell him gently, taking another step toward him. “Let me call Lisa. Or maybe one of the other girls in the pack, I’m sure someone can help y—”
“I don’t want Lisa.” Defeat suffuses his tone, his eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t want any of them. I want—fuck.” Hoseok groans and lets his head fall back against the wall, the dull thunk echoing in the stillness. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I want. You need to leave, {Name}. You’re only going to be in danger if you stay.”
For the second time that afternoon, only one word springs to mind. “Why?”
Hoseok groans again. “Because I’m weak,” he mutters hoarsely. “Because I’m weak, and I’m not thinking straight, and if you come any closer to me, I won’t be able to stop myself from pinning you against that wall right there and having my way with you.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. The rippling energy in the air is almost oppressive in its strength, and only grows when Hoseok’s gaze finally lands on you, his pupils blown out and blacker than the night.
“Go,” he entreaties, dragging a frazzled hand through his hair. “Please, {Name}.”
You suck in a deep breath, your lungs swelling and expanding with the newfound oxygen. Then, ever so slowly, you let your gaze flicker up to meet his. “What if I don’t want to?”
Hoseok freezes. Time comes to a standstill, and even the overwhelming energy emanating from him seems to falter. The room is near silent, broken only by your companion’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving beneath the thin white fabric of his shirt. Even from across the room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his honeyed skin, shining in the light of the setting sun.
“You don’t mean that,” he says at last. “You can’t mean that.”
“I can,” you whisper. “And I do.”
For three agonizingly long seconds, Hoseok remains rooted firmly in place, his throat bobbing harshly. Then, before you can even blink, he’s striding forward—a blur of motion almost too quick for your eyes to follow. He comes to a stop a hair’s breadth from you, one hand reaching up to cup your face delicately, as if you’re made of glass.
“You,” he rasps, “have no idea what you’ve just done.” His thumb traces the swell of your cheek just below your eye, the motion surprisingly tender. Your heart stutters in your chest.
And then he leans down and crushes his mouth to yours.
The rest of the world falls away, dissolving into nothing. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoseok’s hands slide down your sides to curl around your hips, your body melting against his taut frame. He is all you can feel and all you can taste, and you keen helplessly when he grinds against you, his cock hot and hard against your stomach.
The sound seems to awaken something in Hoseok, a cavernous groan erupting from his throat. Pulling away from your mouth, he descends upon the delicate skin of your neck, teeth and tongue blossoming bruises in their wake. Shaky hands find the collar of your shirt, questioning eyes seeking out yours for permission that you happily give. He tugs the garment off almost delicately, his ravenous gaze roving across each bit of newly revealed flesh, and once it’s freed from your head he tosses it aside and sets about doing the same to the rest of your clothing.
Maybe it should feel odd, watching through lidded eyes as Hoseok drops to his knees to pull your jeans down and off your ankles. Maybe you should feel embarrassed, seeing your best friend bury his nose between your legs, delirious bliss etching across his features as he inhales, his strong fingers curling around your thighs to spread you wider. But instead, it feels completely and utterly natural—as if this was always meant to be.
“You smell divine,” Hoseok breathes, slotting himself between your spread thighs and running a fingertip along your lace-covered slit, collecting the considerable slick there and bringing it to his nose. “Fuck, {Name}. Just one whiff, and I can tell that you’re primed and ready for me.”
“Take me, then,” you breathe back shakily, rolling your hips when he slips past the lacy barrier of your panties to find your clit, circling around the sensitive nub until you’re gasping his name.
Hoseok’s gaze darkens to obsidian, his pupils swallowing up the amber-flecked brown of his irises. In one smooth motion, he’s on his feet again, straightening up to his full height as his hands find purchase on your hips. He twirls you around until you’re facing the wall, your palms pressed flat against the woven tapestry hanging there.
“Gorgeous.” A single word, laced with unmistakable awe. Then he’s fumbling with his belt buckle, the metallic clink and tug of a zipper reaching your ears, before he presses against you, clothed chest molding against your bare back. Even through the thin layer of fabric, you can feel the sweltering heat emanating from him, his sweat soaking through the cotton and sticking to your skin. His mouth finds its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder again—teasing at the flesh until you’re quivering—before he begins laying a trail of hot kisses down your spine.
“Wanna fuck you,” Hoseok rasps, tearing your panties away once his lips reach the waistband, the flimsy lace ripped to shreds in his desperate grip. “Want you on your front, want you on your back, want you on my tongue—” His voice drops, rumbling through his chest and sending shivers through your entire body. “Want you. Wanted you for so long.”
And as if to reinforce his words, the velvety head of his cock nestles against the cleft of your backside, hot and slick.
Wordlessly, you arch your back, presenting him with the tempting swell of your rear. A glance over your shoulder reveals the strained clench of his jaw and the bob of his throat, his biceps tensed and his gaze unwavering. His control is undoubtedly dangling by a single thread at this point—a delicate, gossamer thread that’s on the verge of snapping. The delirium of his heat is overtaking his senses, his grip tightening on your hips, and ever so slowly, he begins to press forward until the tip of his thick cock is just beginning to part your walls. Already, the fit borders on excruciating, and your body tenses at the intrusion, stretched to the limit around his thick girth.
Hoseok exhales shakily, his primal instincts warring with his desire to ensure your comfort. Soft lips drop kiss after kiss onto your bare shoulders, your back, your neck—wherever he can reach as he whispers tender praises into your skin. “Breathe, princess,” he encourages lowly. “You can take it—I know you can. You were made for me.”
Obediently, you inhale, focusing on the way your lungs expand and contract as you draw air into them. The pain ebbs away with each breath you take, until all that is left is a low throb of pleasure. Your hips rock back against him, and Hoseok takes it as a sign to push forward once more, parting your walls until he’s fully seated inside you, your body stretched to the limit as you mold around him.
There’s no pain now—only an aching desire for more, more, more. He’s deep enough to reach parts of you that you’ve never been able to explore before—either alone or with other partners—and you moan brokenly when he rolls his hips experimentally. “More, Hoseok,” you whimper. “Please.”
He obliges. One thrust leads into another, the punishing pace he sets fueled by his heady desperation for relief. The full, heavy weight of his cock dragging along your walls ignites every nerve ending in your body, sizzling electricity blazing through your veins. It’s all you can do to plant your palms flat against the tapestried wall, fingers twitching at the woven fabric as Hoseok grabs your hips with enough force to bruise and pulls you back against him in time with his thrusts.
“Look at you,” he says hoarsely. “Love the way you feel, clenching around me like that. My perfect, pretty girl, taking my cock so well. I always knew you were made for me.” He grunts, forehead falling against your back, damp hair matting against your skin as he continues rutting against you. “Always—fuck—knew you were my mate.”
The particularly harsh thrust that follows his raspy declaration sends all coherent thought flying out of your head, taking your surprise along with it. All you can manage is a shuddery whine that vaguely resembles his name, the sound intermingling with the obscene smack of flesh against flesh and the continuous stream of praises Hoseok whispers into your skin.
There’s something building inside you—a dull, throbbing pressure at the point where your body joins with his. He’s still rolling up into you, but each subsequent thrust grows more and more shallow. The realization dawns on your dazed mind all at once, as you feel the growing swell at the base of his cock. Hoseok is rendered near immobile as he finally reaches his high, the entirety of his length sheathed firmly inside your pussy as he spills ropes of white against your fluttering walls. The swelling continues, filling you until you feel fit to burst.
“H-Hoseok,” you gasp. “I can’t. I can’t—you’re going to rip me in half.”
Soothing hands smooth along your sides, warm lips littering kisses onto your bare shoulders. “You can,” he murmurs tenderly. “You were made for me, and I for you. You can take it, princess. I know you can.”
The gentle repetition of his fingertips trailing nonsensical patterns into your skin eases your labored panting somewhat. Beneath his touch, you slowly relax, the pressure in your abdomen abating as his knot begins to subside.
“You did so well.” His voice is no more than a mumble, almost lost in the sweat and slick coating your skin.
You sag against the wall, taking a few moments to catch your breath before slowly easing off of him, the sudden loss leaving your core empty and aching. Gingerly, you turn around to face him, acutely aware of the way your combined juices immediately begin dribbling down your thighs.
“You said I was your mate,” you whisper, almost afraid that the sentiment will disappear if voiced aloud. “Did… did you mean that?”
“Every word,” Hoseok replies, equally soft. “Is that okay?”
A smile blooms across your face. Rising up to your tiptoes, you kiss him again—a soft, reassuring peck that he immediately leans into, seeking out your touch like a flower in the sun. “More than okay,” you breathe, feeling the way his lips stretch upward against yours. “I’m glad, Hobi.”
Hoseok sighs into your mouth, a slow smile settling across his features. “Now it’s your turn,” he says, and in an instant, he’s swept you off your feet, one arm beneath your bent knees and the other around your back. “And I’m planning to take my time with you, princess. You’re not leaving here until I say so.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, crossing your hands at his nape. “Fine by me,” you tell him, earning yourself a wide grin. His lips seek out yours again as he carries you down the darkened hallway and into the shadowy depths of his bedroom, pausing only to nudge the lightswitch on with his elbow. Golden light suffuses the room as he steps forward to lay you on his bed, your back sinking into the plush mattress and dipping further when he joins you. He hovers over you with an arm on either side of your head, and you reach up to trace the vein that lines his biceps with a gentle fingertip, giggling when he gives your bottom lip a punishing nip.
The kiss deepens from there. Hoseok parts your lips and seeks out your tongue with his own, subduing it into compliance. By the time you pull apart, all the oxygen has left your lungs, leaving you flushed and gasping. Hoseok chortles breathlessly and trails down to press a kiss to your navel, before traveling downward until he’s reached your clit. Gently, he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, rumbling with laughter when you buck against him.
“So needy,” he murmurs. To your displeasure, he straightens back up to kneel between your spread thighs, but your complaint quickly dissolves into thin air when he edges forward until his knee is pressed against your aching clit. Desperate for more friction, you grind against him, your wetness soaking through his jeans in a matter of seconds.
It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up in your belly again, winding tight as a coiled spring. Hoseok is staring down at you, transfixed, and his undivided attention only serves to bring you closer to the edge, teetering on the very brink.
“Look at you.” His voice could almost be described as a purr, if he weren’t so utterly canine in mannerisms and appearance. “Such a greedy little thing, all desperate to get off. You’re making a mess of my new jeans, princess.”
You’re too far gone to care about the teasing lilt that colors his tone. The edge is rapidly approaching, and one last roll of your hips is enough to send you over, your walls convulsing around nothing as you ride out your high.
Hoseok doesn’t wait. In an instant, he’s back between your legs, having moved so quickly you didn’t even see when he’d started or stopped. His tongue darts out to lave at your folds, a growl rumbling through his chest when your hips jump on instinct. Immediately, he tightens his grip, strong arms winding around your thighs and anchoring at your waist to render you helpless in his grasp, only able to take what he sees fit to give.
“How is it that you taste even better than you smell?” Hoseok muses as he leans down to suck your clit into his mouth, lips curling up into a pleased smirk when you gasp out his name. “Cute,” he says, releasing the nub in favor of descending to your drenched entrance instead, flicking his tongue shallowly inside before withdrawing with a chuckle.
“Hoseok—” you begin, only to dissolve into a moan when he sheaths two fingers inside you without any warning, curling them up and in until you’re shaking in his grasp.
“Come for me,” he commands softly. “Go on, let me hear you.”
And you do, chanting his name like a mantra as a wave of pleasure overtakes you. Hoseok’s thumb circles your clit in just the right way to prolong your orgasm, and it isn’t until you’re cringing from overstimulation that he finally relents, descending down to mold his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. His lips part yours, tongue dipping out to explore as he sheds his shirt and shucks off his ruined jeans. His skin, when he presses against you, burns hot as a furnace wherever it touches. Against your stomach, his cock stirs back to life.
He’s gentler this time. Every movement is slow and deliberate and tender as he breaches you, murmuring your name reverentially as he fills you again. Your body bows to his willingly, stretching to accommodate him, and the spike of pleasure that lances through you when he bottoms out is almost enough to send your oversensitive body over the edge again, your walls fluttering around him.
There’s an unmistakable shift in the air when Hoseok starts up a slow rhythm, leaning down to kiss you again. His lips move against yours, soft and tender, before moving past your jugular and down to the crook of your neck, elongated canines scraping against the delicate skin in a silent question. You wind your arms around his neck and nod, giving him his answer. There’s no need for words.
And then his teeth are sinking into the spot he’s so lovingly scoped out, breaking the skin. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, and the pleasure intermingles with the pain of the bite until you are delirious, rendered boneless in his grasp. Hoseok’s hips stutter, his pace growing erratic as he soothes the wound over with his tongue.
You’re prepared for the swelling this time, but the fullness still manages to knock all the air out of your lungs, bordering on painful as his knot grows. Hoseok quells your whimpers with tender kisses, the instinct to comfort his mate paramount even as he paints your walls with ropes of creamy white. He traces a path from your lips down to where he’s marked and claimed you as his, imbuing your skin with a litany of praises that warm you from the inside out.
“My mate,” he murmurs, reverent. “Finally.”
You lean into his touch with a tired smile. “Finally? How long have you wanted this?”
His lips curl into a smile against your clavicle. “Ages. If I’m honest, I think I fell in love with you the day you set my tail on fire when we were kids. It’s always been you, {Name}. Only you.”
You can’t help it—you need to hear it from his mouth again. “You love me?”
Hoseok chuckles. “Of course I do. My tricky little minx—my perfect, pretty mate. I love you more than anything.” One hand reaches up to caress your cheek, running along the tender skin beneath your eye before cupping the back of your head so he can mold his mouth to yours. “Love you more than I can even explain,” he breathes, punctuating each word with a kiss. His hands blaze trails down the slopes of your body until he finally anchors below the crook of your legs. “So why don’t you let me show you instead?”
And he does. Over and over that night, and in the two days of his heat that follow, he shows you exactly how he feels. Propriety is forgotten, left by the wayside with his scorned fiancé and marriage. He is yours, and you are his.
Consequences be damned.
⇢ aftermath.
also set in this universe:
[myg]
#hoseok#hoseok smut#hoseok x reader#bts smut#bts scenarios#werewolf!au#werewolf au#hoseok scenarios#hobi#jhope#jung hoseok#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts#witch!au#witch au#friends to lovers#f2l#bts fluff#bts angst#hoseok x you#kpop scenarios#lia writes
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2021 Writing Self-Evaluation
thank you hazel ( @allsassnoclass ) for tagging me for this!! 😊 putting the answers under a read more bc y’all know my answers will be not be consise lol
1. number of stories posted on ao3: 7 :))
2. word count posted for this year: 20,232
3. fandoms i wrote for: i’ve only posted 5sos fic, but i have worked on/fiddled with a couple of old hp wips this year!
4. pairings: i’ve only posted cake, malum, mashton, and lashton, but i did finish a fic for every pairing (not including ot3/ot4) this year!
5. story with the most kudos/bookmarks/comments: the answer to all three of those is by far don’t let me drown in my mind! i could delve into the reasons why i think it’s my most popular but the night is not-so-young and also that’s not the question lol.
6. work i’m most proud of (and why): oh goodness that’s a hard one! i’m proud of everything i’ve posted for various reasons (i wouldn’t have posted them if i wasn’t) but i think today i’m particularly proud of we gotta make a decision (leave tonight or live and die this way) for a lot of reasons. it’s set in an au that i have much bigger plans for and i love the characters so much, which in some ways made it a lot more difficult to write and stressful to post bc i wanted it to do well. while it’s set somewhere very similar to where i was born, it deals with a lot of things that i have zero experience in, and i think i pulled them all off semi-decently! also, this grew a *lot* from the first draft to the final one (mostly thanks to the fact that i turned in a het version for my prose class and used their critiques to shape the fic lol) and i’m very proud of the way i was able to take the notes i was given and make a much better work because of them. i think it’s leaning toward more of my “literary” style instead of my fic style which is my only quibble with it, but i think that works for the content of the fic.
7. work i’m least proud of (and why): most of the works i’m not proud of have not seen the light of day tbh. every work over 1k that I’ve posted is the result of weeks of stressing and editing and pulling my hair out because i really do my best to make sure i don’t post something i’m going to regret lol. that being said,,, i do wish that if i bleed you’ll be the last to know was just a touch more polished. like, it has a lot of stuff i’m proud of and i think overall it’s a decent fic, but i’m not confident that the pacing is up to scratch and the ending isn’t the best, although i always struggle with endings. but i do love it! and it’s really not bad! i’m just very picky lol. beyond posted work, i’m not proud of how many wips are less than a quarter done. i’ll be the first to admit i’m a slow writer and i do try to keep my expectations of myself realistic, but i do think i could have gotten more done.
8. share or describe a favorite review you received: i’ve recieved several reviews that i carry with me in a special box next to my heart so it’s really hard to choose! i will say that when i sent bella the doc for don’t let me drown in my mind asking her to beta read and her first reaction was something along the lines of “i’m so relieved you’re a good writer” was really affirming to me because i am a little insecure about my writing and that felt like a very honest comment bc idk about everyone else but i’ve def had the feeling of like, reading someone you know’s writing for the first time with your fingers crossed chanting under your breath “please be good” bc it’ll be so awkward if it’s not dsjflkdsjf so yeah it just gave me that moment of like “okay i’m not a shitty writer” lol. honorary mention to helen sending me a message about a specific line in what if i’m weak (and i need you tonight) bc when i received the notification i’m pretty sure i actually squealed kjsdflkjdslkdsjf
9. a time when writing was really, really hard: writing is tremendously hard for me about 90% of the time, and i mean miserable, pulling-my-teeth-out hard lol. (don’t ask me why it’s my main hobby because i still don’t know how to answer that lol) writing seeing things in a different light was especially stressful though because it was my first time writing for someone else and when that someone is as talented as adri that makes it extra scary lol. it was also my first time writing fic on a deadline, which mean it was the first time since middle school i was expected to have a final draft at a specific date (most creative writing classes only ask for your next draft, not necessarily your last). it was also my first foray into fluff, *and* my first time writing something that would only really work as a fanfic, so there were a lot of learning curves. but i’m pretty proud of the finished result, and adri left a lovely comment on it that i go back to whenever i need a pick me up, so it was definitely worth it!!
10. a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: i know i legit just posted this but i did not expect to write a bee au. like, i know i love a hyper-specific au but that’s a bit much even for me ksjdfljdskfj also the fact that the bigger au for we gotta make a decision features a subplot revolving around the opioid crisis is insane. like what was i thinking when i made that decision. (i know what i was thinking but still. craziness.)
11. a favorite excerpt of your writing: listen. on a craft level i find this to be one of the most heavy-handed things i’ve written, like i really stretched this in a way i maybe shouldn’t have. it is not something i’d ever include in a work for class. however. i am so in love with the dissected frog metaphor in if i bleed you’ll be the last to know it was just so fun to write and while i’d probably dislike it if someone else wrote it, it makes me smile just thinking about it. part of me says not to quote it here but as a treat for myself here it is:
Calum felt like a dissected frog, like his insides were all neatly lined up on the table on top of his English notes, each organ pinned with a little label. If it were anyone else seeing his guts laid out in the open, he was certain he would start desperately attempting to shove them all back in, not even caring if they went in the correct spot as long as they were safely hidden again, but since it was Michael, there was no surge of fear. He knew Michael would gently put everything back in its proper place, that he wouldn’t take pictures or type up a research article. Calum never would have thought it was possible to feel safe inside-out if he hadn’t met Michael.
12. how did you grow as a writer this year? i posted my first ever fanfic! i *finished* my first ever fanfic!! i’d never actually finished a work of fiction before this year, can you believe it? never reached that final draft. and now i have! multiple times!! wtf!!! i also think my decision in august to hold off on posting fic and instead squirrel them away until i get 24 complete fics was a big moment for me. like i said before, writing doesn’t actually bring me a lot of joy, so it’s important to me that i make sure the parts that *do* make me happy continue to do so, and my hope is that this challenge thingy will help me do that. i’m very proud that i was able to recognize the way posting fic was starting to turn sour and nipping it in the bud before it could do that.
13. how do you hope to grow next year? hopefully finish more fics! i think that writing is very much one of those skills where the only way to get better is to do so, and i’m hopeful that my writing will continue to improve as i go. i’d also like to stop comparing my writing process to other writers. it can be hard to be a slow writer in a fandom where so many great authors can churn out longer fics in a matter of weeks or even days and still have the work be amazing, and it’s also hard when you’re someone who takes multiple drafts to get a fic where it needs to be when there are people who can ace it on the first draft. i’d really like to shed that habit of thinking of my writing process in comparison of others but instead simply in comparison of my past self. also, on a less writer-y note, i’d like to get better at leaving comments on fics i enjoy! part of the reason i don’t comment very much is because it does take a certain amount of spoons to do so, but there are also other reasons that i’m going to try to get out of the way. january is apparently a month where some people try to comment on every fic they read so i may try to do that!
14. who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc)? i mean i can’t *not* mention the fantabulous @clumsyclifford because not only is she the reason that i started writing for this fandom, she’s also a wonderful beta and so so good about me randomly talking to her about my fic problems, even if it’s for a work that’s really not her thing. also hazel has been so encouraging and kind about my writing and is *also* a great beta as well as someone who shares my excitement for niche aus!
15. anything from your real life show up in your writing this year? yep! i really did cut a watermelon in half with an oyster shell for seeing things in a different light (sometimes research can be fun!) and i’ve also written two fics heavily inspired by my hometown (seeing things in a different light and we gotta make a decision) *and* there’s don’t let me drown in my mind whose first 1k is very heavily inspired by real events. like, i changed some of the things i was freaking out about but all of the descriptions and intrusive thought/executive dysfunction stuff was written from memory.
16. any new wisdom you can share with other writers? join an irl writers/critique group that isn’t mainly for fic. no, i’m not saying this for some elitist reason or just because i love critique groups (okay, maybe a little for that last reason), but because it’s just a very different experience than having beta readers or people in your doc. i’m of the firm belief that listening to other’s work being critique can help you with your own, and i also think that critique groups are more likely to tell you if something needs a more drastic change. beta-ing and having people in your docs has a lot of positives, many of which you won’t necessarily get in a critique group, but getting critiques irl can offer you lots of positives as well. it doesn’t have to be one or the other! and you don’t have to disclose that you write rpf; i definitely don’t! finally, i do think that writing and critiquing are two separate skills, and if you want to build up your critiquing muscles you’ve got to exercise them (not that you have to if you don’t want to! there are plenty of brilliant writers who are terrible at critiques and there are some mediocre writers that are great at critiques, you don’t need one to do the other.)
17. any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year? so many it’s actually ridiculous. i would commit actual crimes to finish tis the damn fic this year, i started it in february and it is still no where near done and while i am absolutely in love with the characters and the world i just want it all to be on the page so i can share it with people already!! my new year’s resolution is actually to make some major headway on my fic challenge, and while i doubt i’m going to reach 24 i’d like to get semi-close. 15? 20? among those, i’m looking forward to several 5(ish)+1 fics i’ve got sizzling (faking the moonlanding au, mer!ashton au, another crackfic i won’t spoil), plus i’d love to finish up/start some more driving is for lovers fics because my brand is not going to make itself :))
18. tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read: i’m not sure if other people have tagged new people (that makes zero sense but hopefully y’all know what i mean lol) so i’ll just tag a few peeps: @cringeycal , @pixiegrl , @werewolfashton , @valiantnerdtm , @burstingsunrise , @kaleidoscopeminds , @tirednotflirting , and anyone else who wants to! (and if i tagged you and you don’t want to that’s totally fine! it’s not obligatory!)
#this was fun :)))#my inability to shut up is shining through once again kdjsflkjsd#sorry for the mini rant about critique groups i just really love them#i was talking with my mom the other day about the way critiquing and writing are two separate skills and how my creative writing profs#generally don't teach the best ways to critique which is such a shame#like i doubt most of the undergrads have heard of the sandwich method which is just such a basic thing#if i end up being a ta again i think i'll ask my prof if i can do a little thing about critiquing and the way to get the most out of it#i'm not sure he'll say yes though#anyways!#oh my gosh it's 4:40 already wtf#i need to go to sleep#tag game#the trash talks#fingers crossed i didn't mess up any links
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A Midnight Bathe
07/07/2020: Okay so I was just playing Odyssey the other day and I got to the sacred lake and started messing around, and bada bing bada boom this was born. It’s not happening in the sacred lake though; it’s way too public ;) So here’s just 1K words of late night cuteness.
Post-writing (like a month later bc editing): I just want to look after him tbh.
Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie
Assassin’s Creed Mobile Masterlist
Red Dead Redemption 2 Masterlist
Warnings: Fluff ^_^
Not requested
The moon had been up for a while, and Alexios knew Phobos was tiring out. If he was honest, so was he, and after a half asleep debate with himself, he decided to pull off onto a beach for the night; it was in a secluded part of Phokis. The night was warm, and Alexios was partly glad as he brushed out Phobos’ fur, his mind wandering to other places.
Namely, you.
He met you a while ago, and you hadn’t left his mind since. You and him had flirted with each other back and forth for a few days, one thing led to another, and, well…
There was a foreign feeling in his chest as he said his goodbyes on the last day; heartache, pain, and a strange yearning. He knew he had fallen for you, but for some reason, he never sought you out. He wondered if it was because he was scared -- scared that you would already have found someone else who could be there for you more than he could.
Sighing, he brought himself back to the present. He began to undress, intending on washing the grime and sweat off of his body in the water a few feet away from him. He took out a blanket (to use as a towel) and took it up to the shoreline. He walked into the tepid water, brushing the surface with his fingers. As the water reached hip height, he began to wash his face with a rag, rinsing away his troubled thoughts along with the dirt.
A soft neigh pricked his ears, and he paused momentarily, letting out a single chuckle. He knew who owned that horse.
He heard footsteps approach him, and he turned his head to look over his shoulder, heart unexpectedly jumping once he laid his eyes on you.
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“I haven’t seen you in a while, misthios,” you smiled widely, waiting where the sea met the sand. You saw him fully turn around. He seemed a lot more worn down than the last time you saw him, and you furrowed your brows, concerned.
“It’s good to see you, Y/N.” He looked like he had smiled for the first time in a while, yet, there was still a look of unrest in his eyes. The tension knotted his muscles over his shoulders and down his back; something had changed. You knew parts of his past, but they were only disjointed pieces. He had a sister when he was a child, that much you knew. Was there any news of her since the last time you saw him?
Sharing a glance, you took off your armour, leaving yourself in your tunic. As you joined him in the water, he gave you a suggestive look, lips turning upward. You sat down in the shallow waves, gesturing him to come and join you. Slightly bashful, he obliged, settling between your legs. You took the rag out of his hand, wringing it out before washing his shoulders, slowly moving over the rest of his muscles. As his head dropped lower and lower, you could see the stress begin to evaporate, allowing his body to loosen up slightly. “You must have been busy,” you commented on his tired state.
“A lot has happened recently.” He looked down, finding the waves a lot more interesting than making eye contact.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “Not now.”
Not wanting to pry, you continued washing his skin in a comfortable silence. Once you had finished, you moved onto his arms, slowly washing, from biceps to fingers. You gave Alexios the rag for him to wash the front of his body, while you used your hands to slowly rub at the knots in his shoulders and back. It was easy to tell when he was done, as he had begun to fiddle with the rag in his hands instead of using it.
“Come,” you tapped him on his arm, standing up and heading out of the water and onto the beach. Picking up the blanket, you turned and wrapped it around his shoulders, wiping his face and neck dry with the excess material. He watched you, accepting the rare kindness with a soft and grateful smile.
You redressed in the majority of your armour as Alexios dried himself off. As he redressed, you pulled out your bedrolls and gathered a few bits of kindling to start a fire. You sat down properly once the flames began to grow, feeling a presence join you now that he was decently clothed. Alexios was staring into the fire, and you could tell that this was going to be a night of few words, and instead one of comfort and reassurance. Lying down, you waited for him to follow suit. His head came to rest beside you, and you turned to see him watching you. Bringing your hand up to his hair, you began massaging his scalp, smiling as his eyes slowly started to close.
“How did you find me?” he hummed.
“Just follow the commotion; you’re around there somewhere.” He opened his eyes to give you a fake glare.
“I never lost you, Alexios. Ever since we departed, I’ve been trying to catch up to you, but you’re hard to catch.”
“Then why did you keep looking?”
“Because being apart from you is a lot worse than the dangers that come with being with you.”
You stopped your movements when Alexios straightened, resting on his forearm to lean over you. “This can’t work. We’re mercenaries.”
“I’m willing to try if you are. So, mighty Eagle Bearer; are you?”
Alexios couldn’t help but smile. It was small, but it was there. His eyes moved between your eyes and lips countless times, to the point where you grinned mischievously and gently pushed the nape of his neck towards you. He was soft; interlocking his lips gently with yours, as if you would run away if he made one wrong move. You brought your other hand to push his hair behind his ear, resting your palm on his cheek. The kiss ended as you both broke apart slowly; backing away an inch at a time as your eyes opened.
“I am.”
#assassin's creed#assassin's creed x reader#assassin’s creed x gn!reader#x reader#alexios x reader#alexios of sparta x reader#alexios of sparta x gn!reader#alexios of sparta imagine#alexios of sparta oneshot#I need to plan out my tags a bit more#it feels a bit empty down here
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(cw // sfw, ambiguous relationships, demi/aromanticism
Note: This is a repost of a thread I originally posted to my twitter. Parts of it have been edited/reformatted for Tumblr.)
hs au dabihawks, based somewhat loosely on Bloom Into You:
keigo is the student council president, charming and personable, everyone admires him and he got over a dozen confessions over the winter semester alone.
touya is a loner/troublemaker who gets roped into joining the council, possibly as some kind of community service. he's rude and sarcastic, even when he doesn't mean to be.
he and keigo knew each other in middle school. some might have even called them friends. mostly, it was keigo following touya around like a baby duckling, and touya going along with it bc he'd learned that keigo wasn't so easily deterred by touya's antisocial nature.
by the time they were graduating to high school, touya might even say he was kind of fond of keigo.
something changed, though, in the last year of middle school.
keigo suddenly started changing. in the course of a year, he changed from the shy, quietly intense kid touya knew, into a social butterfly that everyone flocked to. keigo had always had good grades -- and even tutored touya once or twice -- but now his grades were spotless.
touya almost didn't recognize him anymore. though he'd never exactly known keigo well, he'd still thought he knew keigo better than most. but this new keigo was like a complete stranger to him.
keigo still hung around him, though now he'd gone from quietly intruding on touya's space, insinuating himself into touya's routine, to brightly asking touya to have lunch with him or walk home from school together. it was disconcerting.
touya became less tolerant of keigo's presence, shooting down his offers and eating or walking home alone.
it wasn't exactly against keigo himself -- more, it was against the groupies that tended to flock around keigo now. they were all peppy social types, who couldn't understand what interest keigo could have in someone like touya. they were all fucking annoying.
but they're forced to spend more time together now that they're in student council together. keigo asks touya to be his campaign manager for his run for president, and after some convincing, touya agrees.
he's surprised to find that, when they're alone together, keigo kind of... relaxes. he's not as chatty, not as eager to impress. he's almost back to being the keigo that touya knew in middle school.
it's during one of their after-school planning sessions in the council room, twilight cast over them, that keigo confesses.
"you know, i've always admired you."
touya looks up at keigo, confused. "me?"
"you're just... so self-assured. so confident. you don't let anyone tell you what to do, or who to be."
keigo twists his hands together, smiling at them almost sadly. "it's... one of the reasons why i love you."
touya stares. he can't have heard that right. keigo peeks nervously at him, then quickly looks away.
"uh, just-- just forget it. it's no big deal. i'm not like, asking you out or anything. let's-- just get back to work."
they get back to it, but touya can't stop thinking about what keigo said. keigo loves him? what the hell for? he runs over the reasons that keigo listed, but still can't make sense of it.
he talks about it with fuyumi. or, rather, he plops down on her bed and talks at the ceiling while she tries to do her homework.
fuyumi huffs at him, annoyed. "why are you telling me all this?"
"i dunno. you're a girl. girls are good at this romance stuff."
"you're an idiot." heaving a dramatic sigh, fuyumi sets down her pencil and adjusts her glasses. "so. how do you feel about him?"
touya blinks at her, unsure what she means. "what?"
"you've only been talking about his feelings for you. how do you feel? do you like him back?"
touya doesn't have an answer. he hadn't even considered his own feelings on the matter.
"i... don't know," he finally says. fuyumi rolls her eyes, turning back to her homework.
"well, that sounds like a good place to start, don't you think?"
touya keeps that in the back of his mind over the next few days. he watches keigo, trying to figure out how he feels about him. he quickly hits a wall, all the theoretical thinking making him frustrated.
they're walking home together one day, and on a whim, touya lets their hands brush together. keigo's voice falters mid-sentence, and a blush lights up his cheeks.
huh, touya thinks, just from that? interesting.
he decides to push the experiment further, taking keigo's hand in his. keigo flat-out stops talking, glancing at touya nervously.
"touya?"
touya does a mental check over himself, examining his own reaction. he's not sure how he feels about holding keigo's hand, to be honest. it's warm, and slightly sweaty, and keigo's fingertips are rough from his violin callouses.
he lets go. "i was just wondering what it was like."
"o-oh," keigo stammers. "okay."
they walk the rest of the way in silence, going their separate ways without talking about it.
touya thinks about it again that night, staring at his hand. he's not sure how he felt about holding keigo's hand, but... keigo's reaction was kind of sweet. cute, even.
they're at a cafe going over touya's endorsement speech, when keigo blurts, "i really wasn't trying to ask you out."
touya frowns, confused by the abrupt topic change. "okay?"
keigo fiddles with his fork, saying, "i know you don't feel the same. it's okay. you don't have to... force yourself, or anything. i just... wanted you to know. i'm happy just loving you, even if you don't feel the same."
"okay," touya says.
keigo nods, and clears his throat before going back to working on the speech.
on election day, they're sitting together, waiting for the speeches to start. someone comes up to keigo to wish him luck, joking that he won't even need it, since he's so popular.
keigo smiles pleasantly and laughs along, saying something back that touya doesn't pay attention to. what *does* catch touya's attention is how keigo's hands squeeze together, how his leg bounces a little as the person leaves. keigo is nervous.
touya gets up, turning to keigo. "we've got a few minutes before they start. i'm gonna go get some air. wanna join me?"
keigo blinks up at him, not comprehending for a moment, then nods. "uh, okay. yeah, sure."
outside, they lean against the wall together, touya watching keigo carefully.
"you nervous?" he asks.
"what, me?" keigo laughs like it's a ridiculous idea. "no way!" he grins at touya, trying to tease, "why, are you nervous?"
he's deflecting, and touya can see right through it. "not really. i don't care what people think. but i know you do.”
"what?"
"it's why you put on that persona, right? because you want people to like you."
keigo presses his lips together, looking almost... upset.
"i'm not knocking you for it," touya assures him. "i was just wondering."
keigo stares at the ground, rolling a rock under his shoe. "i just... can't go back to how it was in middle school. i can't go back to who i was back then."
touya doesn't get it; he and keigo weren't exactly close in middle school, but touya didn't see anything wrong with how he was.
"if you say so," he says.
"i am nervous," keigo quietly admits. "but i can't show it. i can't let anyone know. i mean, it's a sign of weakness, right?"
touya eyes keigo, looking over the forlorn expression on his face. he can't pin down why, but he doesn't like keigo looking like that.
"hey," he says, catching keigo's attention. keigo looks up, and touya crowds him against the wall, putting a hand on his jaw to tilt him up into a kiss.
he feels keigo go still for a moment, then he melts, his hand clinging to touya's uniform jacket.
touya kisses him softly, noting the way that keigo goes pliant beneath him, the soft sounds keigo makes in the back of his throat, and the flushed, dazed look on his face when touya finally pulls away.
"wh-what was that for?" keigo asks.
"well," touya says, straightening out keigo's uniform for him. "you're not nervous anymore, right?"
keigo swallows. "n-no," he agrees. "i guess i'm not."
touya nods, stepping back. "then let's get back inside. they're probably starting."
keigo does have an extra pep in his step as he announces his candidacy. he seems to stand a little taller, glow a little brighter. touya wonders how much of it has to do with the kiss.
touya himself isn't sure how to feel about the kiss. he's not sure he really... got anything out of it.
it felt nice, and keigo's reaction was adorable. but touya doesn't think he was affected by it in quite the same way that keigo was.
he does want to kiss keigo again, if just to see that reaction from him again. it really was adorable, and touya still thinks about it, even days later.
it ends up becoming a Thing. touya discreetly holding keigo's hand under the council table as he's presenting something, or pulling him aside to kiss him before an important speech. 'fixing' keigo's uniform for him as an excuse to run his hands over keigo's chest.
keigo doesn't question him on it; he seems just happy to get whatever touya is willing to give him. he doesn't push for kisses, doesn't initiate anything. the boldest he gets is hesitating as they're separating on their routes home, and softly asking for touya to kiss him, 'just because.'
touya indulges him, holding him by the back of the neck and kissing him sweetly. he gives a little extra than he usually does, slipping his tongue into keigo's mouth. keigo makes a lovely sound against him, and when touya pulls away, he swears he practically sees stars in keigo's eyes.
touya may not get anything from the physical acts themselves, but keigo's reactions to them are priceless. touya tucks each one away in his mind, cataloguing them like precious treasures.
maybe he doesn't feel exactly the way that keigo feels about him, but maybe that's okay. keigo is happy, snuggling up to touya when they study together in his room, and surprisingly, touya is happy, too.
(original thread in notes)
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rewatching The Grinning Man once again,,2am edition,,just through Beauty and the Beast bc i had to give up and go to bed. @past me you really thought you were gonna. ha. haha. who ever said you’re not a funny clown.
‘ye gods’ is fully a tagphrase of barkilphedro’s. bc saying it at least twice makes it definitely a Thing.
josiana says Bark looks like a...~bug~...and ngl the cut of his coat + those limp antenna things on his hat do actually kinda create that effect. they really did make him look like a skittering creature
accidentally paused at such a moment where his head is angled just so and it’s so weird bc u can’t see the paint on his nose at this angle what
i could play barkilphedro. it would be a ghastly shame but i. no. i could though. no i couldn’t. but
everything bark says just sounds very...Like That.
gonna start doing eye makeup like bark’s
i have so many feelings about the fact that Mr. Maskell’s ensemble(?) character and Ms. Obianyo’s ensemble character stand beside each other for this scene
au where Gwyn’s mom lives and the two of them work as performers
no but fully that Green Cowl but also like. Ms. Obianyo’s entire outfit??? that is a Fantastic Look right There right There.
i like how Bark points at an audience member when he says “whose life is even worse than yours”
okay so the mist that comes up when Bark first says “laughter is the best medicine” plus the way Ms. Obianyo’s ensemble character Looks At Him plus the way Ms. Obianyo’s Ensemble Character and Mr. Maskell’s Ensemble Character stand next to each other plus the fact that this is all Barkilphedro telling the story of events he perpetrated and whatnot just generally the whole look of the bit gives me Feelings like these particular two ensemble characters are almost sort of the ghosts of Gwyn’s mom and kinda sorta who Gwyn could’ve been but also not but also Kinda
i’m just so very emotional and love seeing these two together they look amazing and i love them DX
Josiana’s Introduction/Portrait dress looks fantastic and im mad she doesn’t get to keep it
London!Jojo’s costume is better
genuinely still can’t believe Clarence is Ursus
but it’s kinda ironic tho since it’s by Clarence’s orders that Bark was ever in the situation where ‘hmm guess i havvvve to mutilate this kid’s face lol, that’s too bad” was a thought htat occurred to him so i mean both of Ursus’ characters had a hand in what happened
clarence is like “look at my unhappy children/what a tonic for my pain” ursus is like “...” and dea’s like “look at your unhappy children father i dare u”
the lords on palace hill are a gift
Ms. Brisson is just a truly adorable individual i love her ensemble character
also the material on the sort of dress/aprons the Lords wear? the print kind of looks like a map to me but idk if that’s what it is?
Osric’s “Welcome to the Stokes-Croft Faire” is like. one of the top 10 most iconic moments of the show for me negl. maybe even top 5. It’s got this particular energy i can’t describe but it’s So Good
i feel like in this scene like the top half of Mr. Maskell’s face is painted white(er) which looks fabulous once the bandages + cowl are added like heavens above but also with the whole “ooooh that’s the ghost of pre-barkilphedro!Gwynplaine” angle it’s interesting w/how Jojo’s got that bit of white paint/powder as well and it looks like Dirry-Moir’s whole face is painted at least for this number like Ooooh Is That A Lord Thing idk but it’s a Vibe
i once again think it’s interesting that it’s the actors for Angelica and Jojo who are in the picture frame for “Chained Beasts Fighting” considering how Jojo and Angelica seem to for real not get along so well during the play’s events
i’ve another theory abt mr. hubert
bark’s really like all up on Mr Maskensemblecharacter for the “stab an old man with a needle” bit.
i’ve tried so hard to figure out what the heck that could mean but all i can find is “they’re probably referring to murdering ppl with hat pins” u-u
yo the artwork on the walls behind them Wowie
gosh i love Osric
the little dance thing they do after “I’ve got the misery” is something i yearn for like. pls.
idk if anyone gets more into that last Laughter is the Best Medicine choreo than mr. Dirry-Moir like. he is positively Aggressive with it
the drum or whatever makes that little repeating like, three-point, one-two-three over and over toward the peak of this song is like. i don’t know what i was about to say but I Like This Part Of The Song Even Though It Is Very Stressful And Intense
idk man gwyn just looks Really Good when ursus pulls back that curtain like idk if it’s the way he’s standing or the way he’s moving however slightly or what he’s doing with his hands but like. A+ Gwynlit you look fantastic right here
i like how initially he looks just at Ursus but then kind of looks directly into the camera. sort of fancy the notion that in order to get through shows Gwyn’s kind of particular about where he looks and will try to focus on Ursus and Dea as much as possible but otherwise kind of just tries to not really See the audience maybe or something
oh hey that’s Born Broken that’s music boxing hangon lemme go back what plays for
i don’t reckona- give me a minute - i don’t. recognize. there we go. the music box sound that plays for gwyn
dea is So Pretty
“I shall put my money where my mouth is” dirry-moir that is a most unfortunate turn of phrase
ngl gwyn always looks like he’s having a good time doing up the Drama for his act as Clarence
shadow!gwyn’s hair is next level kinds of floofy magnificence
even his bandages look amazing
“Sonny” :}
no but when Gwyn walks little puppet!Gwyn up the ramp to the ship but Dea’s helping and so they wind up standing Very Close and there’s Height Difference i’m sorry but they are Adorable
i reall like the ocean effect they do
Dea’s cowl look is Exquisite
can’t actually remember for real for real but i’m fairly confident that Mr. Maskell’s “MOTHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER MOTHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER” was at least 67% of what initially forced me to fall in love with this show so Thank You Mr. Maskell For That
the cowl + bandages just looks so good i don’t know what to say. that’s a Look right there. the eye makeup? the hair? The Bandages and Cowl? I’m sorry who says this is not a handsome boy?
he looks amzing
puppet!gwyn constantly looks like he’s got one eyebrow raised thanks to how the eye area is carved
i want to know how Ursus thought he wasn’t going to wind up with a couple of the most dramatic chidlren on the earth like when did he think there was a chance they wouldn’t both turn out Dramatic
high note hazlit has arrived
i wish that in the Osric Raises Gwyn au there was some way for Osric to meet like Ghost!Hazlit or i don’t even know but. they need. to meet each other.
Osric’s got vibes and i don’t know what they are but they’re so powerful and they move me to intense affection
it’s Ridiculously Tall-looking Gwyn time. he goes to stand up straight and keeps on Extending
he really just keeps his eyes on the puppet at all times tho
“your little hat can find out what it means” i know he said ‘heart’ but he said ‘hat’ gwyn needs a hat send tweet
book gwyn got to have a hat
don’t worry gwynlit osric’s gonna take care of that in the au
dea’s so cute
so when Ursus says “for certain, it would be no man” is that like a heads-up that they changed the wolf’s name bc now it isn’t Homo anymore or
it’s 3am now and im only 20 minutes in help me dea
forearms
the “No” “Yes, yes” when Ursus first gives him the Crimson Lethe kills me every single time bro.
how long is this post do i need to shut up yet
i’ve babbled for longer before i think we’re good
And Ursus Gave The Boy A Name. A Cruel Name. A Name That Means “Wow That Debilitating Wound Carved Into Your Actual Face Must Hurt Pretty Bad Huh Kidlet”
arms
still mad about the fact that Ursus mentions “Melt into mist/no longer exist” and Barkilphedro uses those Exact Words
i always assume they’re talkin about going to Murca but i mean technically anywhere could be the ‘new world’ huh
forearm
see the one thing i
when he says “we’ll come back to the place where once we were lost in the snow” now im thinking about adult!lord!Gwyn revisiting like. the actual place. where it all Happened like. imagine adult!Gwyn going back to the gallows-site and just.
under angelica’s reign it’s probably converted into a memorial instead ofc and is no longer a gallows-site but still
puppet!Dea doesn’t wear shoes
when puppet!Dea first goes “Mojo?” puppet!Gwyn kinda reaches toward her for a sec like he’s Concerned
Dirry-Moir waving at Dea like he’s trying to figure if she really is blind smh
cowl gwyn is such a phenomenal look
GWYN DOES THE FOOT WIGGLE DURING THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST SCENE I JUST NOW NOTICED
HIS FOOT IS ACTUALLY FLAT ON THE GROUND SO INSTEAD OF IT BEING A LITTLE HEEL SHAKE IT’S MORE LIKE A LIL ANKLE TWISTY BUT. !!
puppet!Gwyn fiddles with his shirt/vest a lot
forearm
the lil motion with his head after the Kiss tho rlly does look suspicious like the “twinge (of unspeakable agony)” motion tho
love how Osric just runs along to go with to see the rest of the show like. he’s into it.
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A New Kind Of Magic
An SPN/Magicians Crossover Fic
~Dean and Sam have some company in the Bunker but Margo and Eliot are not there for a friendly visit. Somehow, their quest keys got screwed up and sent them to another universe. Chances of getting them home seem rather nonexistent until Eliot suggests they combine their magic...and a few other things...~
Sam Winchester x Margo Hanson x Eliot Waugh, Dean Winchester, Roger Rabbit, Unnamed Bunny
3,445 Words
Warnings: NSFW. Spells and Sex and Magic and Bunnies. All the good stuff.
AN: This is my very first crossover fic, combining some of my favorite people. I haven't ever written for Margo or Eliot before, so this was a lot of fun. This challenge piece is for, and the art and title are by @idabbleincrazy. I really hope you all enjoy! EDIT: TUMBLR TOOK DOWN THE ORIGINAL POST BC THE ART WAS TOO SEXY, THE WORDS WERE TOO SEXY, THEY WERE JEALOUS OF THIS POST. HOPE YOU LIKE IT ;)
My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon
It wasn’t as if no one had ever crossed into their universe before, or them into another as it were, but no matter how many times it happened, Dean was never going to be used to it. Just like the time their grandfather had walked through time and into their closet door, the last week had been super weird. It wasn’t right. But it kept on happening.
Margo was hot, that’s all Dean knew. She was like this tiny firecracker of sass and sex that would blow his hand apart if he tried to touch her. And try he did. For the first two days, he used his best pick up lines on her, flashed his most flirtatious smiles, but she was having none of it. Margo barely even looked at Dean except to fire back a snide comment, and her rejection just egged him on.
Eliot was...an interesting fellow. Dean wasn’t quite sure what to make of him but he certainly did his fair share of blushing around him. Twice, Eliot commented on the pert roundness of Dean’s ass and twice, Dean had nearly giggled himself into a frenzy. His cheeks would never stop burning around the strange, curly haired man, but give in, he would not.
While Dean was busy trying to keep his pants on around the strangers, Sam was busy trying to help them get home. He spent most of his time in the Library, pouring over books and his laptop, reading until his eyes were so out of focus that they welled with exhausted tears. He was getting nowhere. An entire universe of knowledge at his fingertips, and there was not a speck of information about Fillory or quests or Magic Keys opening random doors into other universes. He was at a loss.
Closing his computer for a moment, Sam leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed at his eyes. A kaleidoscope of static and color swirled on his eyelids and he sighed, feeling that familiar tug of sleep.
Boots rushing down the short steps knocked Sleep’s hand away.
“Still nothing?”
Sam opened his eyes to find his brother standing over him, arms crossing over his jacket.
“Not a thing. You?” Sam knew the answer, but he wanted to poke Dean with a tiny bit of guilt for not helping.
“Nope.” Dean pursed his lips. “Well… There’s a case up near Spokane,” he said, tilting his head. “Four coeds found with their hearts ripped out. Gonna go check it out with Cas unless…”
Sam lifted his eyebrows, waiting for the rest of Dean’s sentence. “Unless what?”
“Unless you wanna come with? Get out of the Bunker for a bit? Get some fresh air?”
“Dean, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” He’d long ago stopped wondering how far he could roll his eyes. He knew.
“Yeah and you got it all under control.” After a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, Dean leaned down a bit, resting a hand on the back of the chair next to Sam. “Listen, I gotta get outta here. That chick is super hot and ignores me every other word and the tall guy is…” Dean sucked his teeth as he searched for the right word, but couldn’t find anything good. “I just need like five minutes alone. OK?”
Sam breathed out a laugh and nodded. “OK.”
“OK!” Dean smiled and stood up, spinning on his heel towards the door. “Check ya later, Sammy. Be good. Don’t burn the house down!”
“Leaving so soon?” Margo appeared at the top of the stairs, long hair down and shining, one of Mary’s old shirts hanging off her shoulders.
Dean startled but caught himself. “Just making a milk run, milady, nothing to worry about.” He gave her his best smile, but she lifted a brow and looked towards Sam.
“Thanks for the conditioner,” she said with a smile. “This universe is killing my hair. Never thought I could miss magic so much.” She pushed passed Dean and sank into the chair next to Sam.
“OK then,” Dean mumbled to himself. “Have fun playing beauty parlor!” He waved as he hopped up the steps and disappeared around the corner.
Sam huffed and pushed his tongue between his teeth. “Sorry about my brother. He’s…”
Margo shrugged him off and adjusted herself in the chair, half lounging, one leg slung over the arm facing Sam. “He’s harmless.”
Sam laughed. “He’s really not…”
“I could take him.”
Deep red lips pulled into a smirk and Sam’s heart raced.
“I bet you could.”
Steps scuffled on the top stair as Eliot swaggered into the archway. “What are we betting?” He lifted a flask to his lips and giggled around the cap. “Strip poker, I hope.” Margo gave him a stern look and he floated into the room, taking the seat across from Sam. “Sorry.”
Sam managed to clear the lump from his throat with a gentle laugh. “Uh, no,” he answered awkwardly. “We were just talking about my brother’s-”
“Tight little ass,” Margo grinned, winking at Sam who’s cheeks turned fifthteen shades of pink.
Eliot laughed and kicked back in his seat, crossing his long legs at the ankles beneath the table. “I could bounce a quarter off that ass,” he said in playful agreement. “Or bite it.”
Sam’s expression twisted into something reminiscent of a firefighter smelling a burnt corpse for the first time, but was soon soothed by Margo’s sexy laugh.
“El, that’s too much,” she teased, swatting her hand through the air at him. “You’re embarrassing my boy here.”
Sam took a long moment to collect himself, to pull his eyes away from her perfect lips. When he was ready, he sat up and fiddled with his laptop, trying to give his hands something to do.
“So any luck getting us home?” Eliot asked, voice turning from sex to business.
“Sadly, no.” Sam sighed heavily and shook his head. “I just can’t find anything that would work. Since your magic doesn’t work here, I can figure that our magic wouldn’t work to get you there. I can’t see that a door like this has ever been opened between our worlds before.”
“But you told us about that rift thing,” Margo reminded him, sitting up and unhooking her leg from the chair. “Maybe we could open one of those?”
A bit of hair fell into Sam’s eyes as he shook his head again. “No. Everything points to your universe being on a totally different line that ours.”
Eliot laughed in confusion. “What?”
“If you think of the universes as we’re speaking of them,” Sam explained, gesticulating with big hands as he broke it all down for Eliot and Margo. “You could imagine an infinite number of Earths on a string, all lined up, all the same yet not. Now this string would keep our universe together and theoretically, you could use the string to jump from one world to the other.”
“Right…” Margo’s dark eyes blinked wildly as Sam rambled on.
“From what I’ve read,” he went on, “it looks as if your Earth is on a seperate string.”
“So no jumping back and forth?” she asked, painted lips in a deep frown.
“No jumping,” Sam echoed in agreement.
“It’s like the bunnies,” Eliot mused, staring at Sam but looking passed him at a memory.
“Bunnies?” Sam’s voice cracked as he questioned the odd comment.
“In Fillory, we have bunnies that can talk and we can send them to Earth with messages, and visa versa.” Margo tried to explain it better than that, but it was pretty simple, actually. It was what it was.
“Ah.” Sam smiled but his curiosity was far from sated. “So tell me again about the keys?”
Eliot rolled his eyes. “We are on a quest and the keys are all...magical as fuck.”
Sam laughed. “Right. And...opening doors to different places is normal for you guys?”
“It is, but we’ve never been stuck like this...powerless and trapped underground.” Margo exhaled sadly.
“You know we’re not...holding you here,” Sam offered kindly.
She turned to face him and smiled. “Honey, even if I wasn’t hiding out in tunnels under a mountain of dirt- this is Kansas. There’s nothing to do. I might as well be trapped.”
“Oh, come on, Bambi,” Eliot cooed, sneaking in, “we can always find something to do.” His eyes turned to Sam. “Or someone.”
Sam swallowed so hard it nearly echoed. He couldn’t deny the heat in his cheeks when Eliot stared at him, or the tightness of his jeans when Margo’s hand brushed his leg accidentally, but he really didn’t have time for all that. There was research to do.
“We really should get back to work,” Sam insisted, clearing his throat for the upteenth time. His shoulders were so tight he thought they’d snap, but he had to keep his head screwed on right.
“Yeah,” Margo snipped, sarcastically waving a finger at Eliot. “No time for sex. We need to focus.”
Eliot laughed so hard the table shook, and he pulled the flask back out of his vest. He tipped his head back, going for the last swallow, and suddenly had an idea. Margo could see the lightbulb illuminate behind his eyes and she leaned close.
“Oh…”
“What is it?”
Sam hummed in question.
Eliot grinned. “Sex.”
“You need to calm your tits, sir,” Margo sassed, rolling her eyes and sitting back. “I want to go home.”
“No,” he laughed, leaning over the table. “Sex Magic.”
Margo’s face lit up and she gave a half smile. “Oh…”
Confused, Sam looked back and forth between them. “Sex Magic?”
“It’s a rarely used ritual that can produce a large amount of magical energy,” Margo explained. “But our magic isn’t working here so what the fuck, El?” She shot him a glare but Eliot was undeterred.
“No, listen. What if we combine our magic with some of Sam’s magic and see what happens.”
“Why does it have to be the fucking type?”
Eliot grinned. “Because if it doesn’t work, we’re not out anything but a couple condoms.”
Margo seemed satisfied with that and looked to Sam whose jaw was nearly on the ground.
“You in, big boy?” she asked, dropping her hand to his knee.
“I, uh… what...” Sam struggled with the new plan, but suddenly remembered something he’d read a few days ago that seemed pointless until now. “Actually… I think that could work…”
Deep in Rowena’s journals was a spell for conjuring up a large amount of magical power. Sam had skimmed it but ultimately given up the idea; he hadn’t felt ready to attempt something so powerful, but with two actual magicians by his side, Sam decided it was worth a shot.
The trio stood in Sam’s bedroom, lights dimmed, candles lit around the perimeter. It was romantic and warm, but Sam’s hands were shaking.
Eliot noticed the tremor and handed Sam his flask. “Take the edge off,” he whispered gently.
“Thanks,” Sam smiled quickly and took a sip. He winced at the strong but smooth Scotch as it ran down his throat. “My brother’s gonna bite your head off if he finds out you’re in his good stash.”
“I can take him,” Eliot winked.
Sam stared at him in awe. “You two are so…”
“Sexy?” Eliot offered.
“Confident,” Sam finished.
“Well, that too.”
“Can we get this going?” Margo interrupted, ripping the shirt off her head. Her hair fell down in perfect waves behind her back and she offered the men a nice view of her breasts. “I’m getting bored.”
The spell was impossibly simple. A bit of blood from each of them was mixed with elm ash and cloves, then rubbed over each breastbone, right above their hearts. A few words of tongue-twisting Latin and a cache of energy should begin to charge over the bowl of remaining potion.
Sam finished enchanting the mixture and held the brass bowl out to Eliot. "I guess...we can get started."
Eliot smirked and dipped two long fingers into the bowl, his dark eyes locked on Sam's. "I can't wait."
Margo shivered as Eliot smeared the tincture over her heart, gently rubbing the brownish mess into her smooth skin. She looked up at him and smiled slyly. "Love it when you massage me."
"Oh, hush," he grinned, pulling his hand away. "Your turn." He nodded towards Sam and Margo slipped away.
"Gonna need you to strip."
Sam’s stomach flipped. “Uh...what?” His tongue felt dead in his mouth as he blushed every ounce of body heat through his cheeks.
Margo gave him a smug smile and moved closer, her naked breasts bouncing slightly as she took each step. “Strip.” She popped the P and Sam’s heart skipped too many beats. “Gonna need to take those clothes off if we’re gonna do this.” Her dark eyes fell down the length of Sam’s body and he shivered.
“Yeah.” His laugh was awkward and adorable.
“Awe, he’s shy,” Eliot cooed, dropping his pants by the bed, already half hard and ready to go.
Sam chewed his lip as he pulled the old green flannel from his shoulders, held his breath as he tugged his undershirt up over his head, swallowed down a cannonball when his jeans hit the floor. He held his eyes shut, half expecting a teasing word from Eliot, but the room was oddly silent.
“Well, hot damn.”
Margo’s voice pulled Sam’s eyes open and he found both visitors staring at him with lust filled eyes. Their stares knocked away his nerves and Sam stepped forward, looking down at Margo and licking his lips.
“Go ahead,” he whispered; a wolfish grin growing upon his pink lips.
Her eyes blurred as a shudder traveled down her spine, but she snapped back quickly. “Let’s do this.”
Her touch was like fire on his chest, the potion even more so. Her fingers were so thin, so delicate, and Sam’s cock twitched as he imagined her tiny hands trying to hold on as he wrecked her against the wall.
By the time she was done, Sam was stiff and his head was swimming. Eliot came towards him, ready to be anointed. His chest was firm and warm beneath Sam’s fingers, and he lingered there, caught in the moment, marveling at how not strange it was anymore. There was something in the air, something in the spell that took away all the hesitation, flooding his brain with arousal and confidence.
Eliot smiled as Sam’s hand finally fell away. “You’re real pretty, Sam. Anyone ever tell you that?”
Hazel eyes glowed bright and his hand returned to Eliot’s chest, slowly rising to curl around the nape of his neck. “So are you.”
The same heat in the tincture was in their kiss; lips and breath on fire as Eliot kissed Sam back, pulling him closer with a firm hand on his ass. Hips pushing against hips, fingers tangling in hair. Sam’s ears were ringing by the time Eliot let him go and he whimpered under his breath, wanting the heat against his lips again.
Margo warmed him up, slipping easily between them, soft and hot, fitting herself in place. She reached up for Sam and pulled him down by some mysterious string tied around his throat, the same string that now lead him to the bed, pushed him down underneath her, held him captive as her lips traveled his body.
Eliot lit the candle by the bed and smoke filled the room. It was a mist, a thick fog of sweet perfume that rolled around and inside of them, stoked by tongues and fingers, fueled by the rolling of hips.
Sam breathed deeply as Margo lowered herself onto him, straddling his cock backwards as her lips fell to Eliot’s waiting cock. Sam cupped her ass as Eliot gathered up her hair, and they held her in place, each using the push and pull to keep her happy between them.
The louder she moaned, the brighter the mist glowed, swirling around them like something from a dream; a dorm room smoke out lit by neon, a fairy garden at midnight. Sam wasn’t sure anymore where their bodies began and ended, and after a while, he stopped trying to make sense of the moment. They lay in a heap on the bed; legs twisted together, lips never far from supple flesh, tongues always busy, hands kneading and probing.
As her pleasure crested, Margo let out a howl that cleared the fog, sending it straight up above their heads. It curled and spun into a rush of brightly colored wind that hovered over the key. It shot down inside the key as Sam came, growling loudly and digging his nails into Margo’s hips. The key glowed bright gold as Eliot followed, coating Sam’s thighs in hot white.
“Yo! Sam!” Dean turned the corner into the hall, limping a little on his left ankle. “Where you at?”
There was a loud rustle and then a slamming door. Sam emerged from his room, rushing towards Dean, his face bright pink, lips swollen, hair a mess. He fiddled with the buttons of his flannel, not realizing that, in his haste, he had miss matched the top set.
Dean eyed him suspiciously. “Everything OK?”
“What? Yeah.” Sam shook his head as if offended by such a question. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Green eyes fell downwards, zooming in on the crooked buttons. “You’re a mess. Look at you.”
Sam shrugged him off and pushed past him, walking purposefully towards the War Room as he rebuttoned his shirt. “It’s fine.”
Dean sniffed the air as Sam walked by and hobbled quickly behind him. “Did you fuck her?”
“What!” Sam skidded to a halt, pushing out a nervous laugh as he tried to ignore Dean’s darting eyes.
“You did, didn’t you! You fucked Margo!”
“That’s...just rude,” Sam snapped.
Dean gasped dramatically and covered his mouth. “You didn’t...did you fuck him too?”
Sam stood to full height, shocked. “You...what...I…”
Dean held his ground. “You stink like sex.”
“Shut up.”
“You did fuck them!”
“Just...stop it. OK?”
Dean shrugged but smirked as he turned away. “Fine.” Wincing, he shuffled to a chair by the glowing table and sat. “Where are they anyway? I’m due for a little rejection about now.”
Sam sat across the table and smiled. “They are gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yup. Found a spell in Rowena’s books, combined it with a little...magic from their world and…” He threw his hands up, empty, like the Bunker. “They’re home.”
Dean nodded thoughtfully and smiled. “Well. Good work.”
“Thank you.”
Silence fell for a bit but Dean’s head was buzzing. “What kind of magic was it?”
Sam picked at the cuff of his shirt. “It was...there...just...Some weird ritual of theirs.” He looked away, blushing at the thought and Dean caught every twitch of his face.
“You did fuck them!”
“Dude, enough, OK!”
“Fine.” Dean sat back in his seat and licked his lips smugly. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
There was a strange pressure in the air suddenly and a loud whooshing sound. Above the table, the air seemed to swirl into tiny hurricane, and the brothers looked up in awe as a small black hole opened up over their heads.
“What the fuck is that!” Dean yelped, tipping the chair back so far he almost fell.
Sam leaned in, squinting up into the darkness. “I don’t know!”
Beyond all comprehension and logic, from out of the mysterious black hole, dropped a fluffy gray rabbit. It fell to the table and took a step towards Sam.
“Thanks for the help,” it said.
Dean gawked. “Did that rabbit just talk to you?”
Sam nodded, just as shocked. “I believe it did.”
The air whirled again and another rabbit plopped down onto the table before the portal closed.
“And sex. Love, Eliot,” the second bunnie concluded.
Green eyes went huge and Dean’s smile was unstoppable. “You dirty boy! You did fuck them!”
Sam stammered. “It was a spell!”
Dean laughed, slapping the table gleefully with his hands. “You fucked ‘em! I knew it!”
Sam let him go on for a few minutes before clearing his throat. “You done?”
Dean giggled. “Yeah.”
The second rabbit wiggled its nose and hopped towards Dean who scooped him up gently. “Uh...what do we do with these?”
Sam shrugged and stood up. “No idea. But I already fixed one mess today. This one’s on you.”
Dean frowned but the bunny in his hands was too cute to ignore. As Sam walked away, he cuddled it close and whispered. “I’m gonna name you Roger.”
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mirrors for friends //ch.5
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wc: 1741
pairing: TBD x reader
notes *this is the version of the song they cover
chapter 5: We drive, We Film
The music is blaring when Atsumu pulls up. He's bobbing his head along to the guitar, hardly sparing you a glance as you slide into the passenger seat. Despite that, you offer a quick greeting as the car speeds off before you even finish putting your seatbelt on. You nod along to the familiar song as the two of you shoot through the street,
“And I don't care if you're sick, I don't care if you're contagious,” you begin Atsumu chiming in matching your pitch.
“I would kiss you even if you were dead” “Would somebody make me go blind for the rest of my life, cause I’d do anything to hold your hand.”
You find your hand hanging out the window as you two sing along to the rest of the song. Once it ends, Atsumu lowers the volume, enough to have a conversation. “I see ya changed from a sweaty slob and are now looking better.” You roll your eyes at the bassist, and had he not been driving you probably would’ve resorted to slapping the back of his head. “Why do I willingly hang out with you. And, where are we going anyways?” You question, remembering your promise to Iwaizumi
You ignore his comment about you clearly not having any other friends as you send a message to Iwaizumi confirming your location. You let out a little laugh at Iwaizumi’s complaint about the blonde always running his plans, before locking your phone. “Who ya texting?” Atsumu takes his first real look at you for the night as he slows at the red light. “Iwa, just telling him if I die tonight it's all your fault.Your driving fucking sucks” You follow up the sentence flicking off your friend who looks unbothered.
“Speaking of our dear Iwa, you know something that me and Kuroo don't.” Your eyes widen just the tiniest bit as he grants you a knowing smirk. “But I’ll let that go for now. How's the tattoo healing?” Just like that Atsumu’s voice shifts into a more serious tone and you groan loudly. You instantly catch on to the real meaning of the question. How are you doing? “Not you too”.
“C’mon, I’m just checking on ya (Y/N). Making sure you’re ok. Took me a minute but then I remembered you showed me the picture a few months ago.” His gaze focuses back on the road giving you at least the relief from his stare down. “First Iwa, now you. And I know Kuroo is gonna pick my brain the second he gets the chance,” your words come out in a huff of annoyance. “What can we say, we care about ya. The band would flop without our front man.” His tease is enough to lighten the tension that began to grow as you rolled your eyes again. “Our combined hotness would drop by like 90% without me.”
“More like 5%” He could only laugh as you promptly told him to go to hell, as you turned the music back up some. The rest of the drive was void of any conversation. The only noises coming from the radio and any time either of you would sing along to what was playing out. Atsumu would only shoot you annoyed looks, whenever you’d skip one of the songs he had to which you'd just shrug without a care.
“Hey Samu.” You and Atsumu spoke at the same time as you slid into the booth. “What are you two sharing a single brain cell now?” Your look of disgust is enough to cause the gray haired twin to laugh. “The only thing I’d ever share with Atsumu is my foot up his ass.”
“That’s a real cute way of saying you’re the dumb one of us.” The blonde catches the wrist of your arm that aims a punch at his shoulder easily. “Take you and your shitty dye job over there next to your brother,” you mutter pushing your bandmate out of the booth next to you. He obliges, moving so that him and Osamu are both sitting across from you.
“Now Tsumu’s stupidity is gonna seep into my head.”
----
“Hello boys, and piss head,” you greet cheerily as you enter the unlocked door of Iwaizumi’s place. You shift the drink carrier in your hand as you remove your bag, lightly placing it on the floor. The owner only raises his eyebrows at you while your guitarist just laughs.”What’d he do now,” You make your rounds handing off the coffee drinks you’d bought for your bandmates. You stop by Iwaizumi first who accepts it with a grateful smile. Next is Kuroo, who raises the cup in thanks. “Every time I hang out with him, I wonder why I do. He sucks,” you speak before handing Atsumu his drink. “Osamu really is the better twin, not by much though.”
“You claim to hate me, yet you bring me food. Thanks mom,” the bassist mocks. You mutter something about it being the only thing that gets him to shut up before shifting your attention towards Kuroo. “Hey, can you go get our instruments, couldn’t hold them cause of the drinks.” He only nods, you asking him to please lock your door after.
“We’re filming that song today right?” You nod at Atsumu’s question. While he goes back to typing away on his phone you settle onto the couch next to Iwaizumi. He looks at you and you raise your eyebrows in excitement. He shoots you a small smile and a thumbs up, and you struggle to contain your excitement. You shoot him a knowing look that the two of you have to talk later as Kuroo enters carrying both your guitar cases. “Bring my drink down would you,” is the only thing he says before making his way towards the basement. The three of you wordlessly follow.
“Why are we doing this song again,”
“Come on old man, it’ll be fun, plus our dear (Y/N) gets to show off that growl today. Doesn't happen very much,” Kuroo smirks at Iwaizumi, shooting you a quick look from where you are tuning your guitar. “Plus, the viewers wanted us to do Gaga.”
“Oh, you're just happy ya get to be heard more with this song,” Atsumu chimes in before fiddling with his bass. “Maybe,” is Kuroos response as he sits on a stool to tune his own instrument. “Besides, Judas is a pretty badass song. And our arrangement is pretty sick.” Iwaizumi can’t help but agree with you, opting to get the video equipment set up. After he finished you all ran through the song a few times before you were ready to go.
“Hey guys, we’re Mirrors For Friends,” the four of you said in unison. Before introducing yourselves as individuals. “So, you guys asked, and we answered. You all wanted us to do Lady Gaga so bad,” Kuroo started before pausing for his self-proclaimed dramatic effect. “So, Judas here we are.”
----
“Judas- Gaga” You practically screamed out the last words of the songs, before bursting out into laughter. The entirety of the song both Kuroo and Atsumu were making ridiculous facial expressions at one another, and with you being in the middle of the two, you saw it all. That, paired with post singing adrenaline and the fact that you all were even singing it in the first place seemed absolutely comical You had been so caught in laughter that you didn’t even notice Iwaizumi come up from behind his drums to nudge at camera perched on the tripod in front of you.
“Fuck- do you guys see what I have to go through with these guys. Iwa is the only normal one,” you joked out after your laughter died down. You ignored the said members exclamations about not being that bad. “Alright that's it for us today, we hope you enjoyed, and we’ll see you when we see you.” You stuck up a peace sign heading towards the camera and picking it up. “Say bye you idiots.
You first pointed the camera at Kuroo who was the closest to you. “I feel like (Y/N) is catching my double chin at this angle. Stream our songs and we love you.” With that Kuroo just walked off the frame, and you turned towards Atsumu. “Say bye to the video fake blondie.”
“I just want to say that I’m the hottest member of the band and-hey” Atsumu exclaimed as you just cut his segment short, before walking to Iwaizumi.
“You know the drill Iwa. Your turn” This time you moved the camera up and down as if you were giving the audience a chance to check him out. “Now this is the real hottest member of this band,” you teased before aimling back towards his face. You stifled your laugh at Atsumu and Kuroo in the background yelling for him to take his shirt off. “I hate this band. See you all in the next video.” With your drummers closing you stopped the recording before letting out a sigh of relief.
“Well that was exhausting,” you automatically made your way to the couch where you had your laptop resting. “I can probably get this edited and uploaded by tomorrow guys.” You felt the couch dip next to you and the voice of the band’s guitarist. “I can do it. I know it's been an interesting week for you,” he gestures towards your ribcage, where your new tattoo rests under your tshirt. The tone of his voice lets you know there’s no point in countering. When Iwaizumi gets into his band labeled ‘dad’ mode, you won't win. “You're acting as if I have a choice,” you huff handing him the camera’s memory card.
“Shit- guys, I gotta go. I forgot the team got a last-minute practice match with another school,” Atsumu’s panicked voice cut through the room. “Were done here right?” He looked between the three of you sighing in relief as he quickly started putting up his instrument. “Hey, don’t forget next week we’re at Bauhaus.” He only nodded mindlessly, before making his way to the stairs, before stopping halfway. “That's the 3rd, right?”
Kuroo’s thumbs out caused him to practically run up the stairs and out the door. Once the bassist leaves, he plopped himself next to you on the other side of the couch. “So lovely band members of mine, what secret are you two keeping from me and Tsumu.”
⤿taglist: @o51oc @suna-allie
a/n: yall know that one tiktok audio from what bgc? wheres like awkwardly quiet then its like “hey guys”--- thats how I feel after coming back to this fic after a month. But yeah life and then more LIFE. So with that, sorry this chapter is kinda awkward writing bc i literally havent written for this in that month at all. Anyways, now that we’ve gotten our band dynamics established we are kicking off the real plot starting next chapter. I still don’t know which boy to do so pls help a loser out. I think I’m gonna take out the possibility of Iwa though ????
#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu imagines#atsumu x reader#mirrors for friends#kuroo x reader
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Nothing A Little Red Lipstick Can’t Solve (Mando x Reader)
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: language, flirting, suggestive language (no actual intercourse), drinking, make-out (kinda?), reader insert (idk if that’s a warning), this was made and edited around 4 am soooooo yeah
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the mentioned characters from, “The Mandalorian”. I do not own you and have no affiliation with Disney, Disney Plus, or The Mandalorian. This is simply a fan fiction story.
A/N: It’s like 4 am and I just needed to get this out of my system. It’s not like super smutty, but I’ve been dying to write about Mando for some time and just needed to post something. Please leave back constructive criticism if you can and I hope this isn’t too bad. ALSO this is a repost bc it wasn’t showing up in the tags
—
The yearly ball was being thrown and everyone who was somebody or extremely wealthy would be there. Famous across the galaxy for being lavish and full of women and men who held a high status in their planets, it was only accessible via an invite or through connections. Your father had been a contributor for the event since you could remember, so he and his family were always welcome at the event; however, you were never really one for a crowded dance floor full of sweaty bodies and girls who acted a little too helpless in hopes of luring in a sugar daddy. But this week was different, you had been stuck inside your home with little entertainment due to a security breach and your father wanted to ensure his families safety. You were antsy and deprived of your fun for far too long so you decided a night of messing with the hearts of “pretty boys” who only wanted to get in your pants would be great entertainment for your dull week.
So here you are, preparing with your friend ,Seliah, since you didn’t want to be alone all night. Deciding to dress less flashy than most, you opted for a long pale pastel-blue satin dress with a slightly slightly plunged neckline and a slit in the middle starting from just above your knees. You decorated your outfit with a white shawl that hung just below your shoulders, nude heels, and a deep red lip.
Looking at yourself in the mirror and satisfied with your appearance, you made your way to the ball. The evening began a little hectic as men and some women swarmed you for pictures, a chance to engage with someone of such a high profile, or in attempts to pursued you into participating in lewd activities.
After successfully shooing everyone away, you had settled down to talk with Seliah and decided to order a drink in hopes of replacing the boredom with a little booze. You had noticed a handsome young man eyeing her all night and–deciding to be a good friend, encouraged her to talk to him--but now you were completely and utterly drenched in boredom.
A metallic glint caught your attention and you were surprised to see a fellow (or perhaps toned lady?) decked out in beskar, extremely unfitting of the occasion. Surprised you didn’t see him sooner and pleased to see such a change in pace in this type of event, you smirked to yourself; you smelled adventure. This person was either important, intimidated their way in, or had manage to gain entry by lying. A tingle ran down your spine, boy were you feeling mischievous at thought of stirring up some trouble with the helmeted being. Downing the last of your drink and re-applying your lipstick, you sauntered your way over to the Mandalorian.
“I have to say, I absolutely love the way you’re dressed. Very fitting for the occasion,” you purred and slipped into the chair next to them.
The person snorted and, although slightly distorted by the modulator, sounded like a man.
“Man of few words huh? You don’t see many Mandalorians often, especially not here. I’m guessing you’re here to stir up some trouble,” you speculated.
“You’re Aldone L/N’s daughter. It’s a surprise to see you at an event like this.” He finally spoke up, turning his head to look at you.
“So I was right, there’s no way you’re a casual attendee would pay attention to me,” you smirked. “So what’re you here for? Let me guess, one of these assholes got themselves into trouble and managed to get a bounty on their head?” you questioned.
“I have no business with you. I suggest you turn away before you get yourself into trouble,” he responded, looking back at his untouched drink.
You chuckled and leaned in close to his helmet, “That may work on anyone else, but I’m sure you know that if you tried to lay as much as a finger on me, my father would put a bounty on your head and that would risk your little operation.” You speculated in a hushed tone, “Am I wrong?”
“What do you want?” He finally asked, standing to look at you and clearly readying himself to leave.
“I want in on whatever you’re going to pull tonight.. You can’t deny that I would be a beneficial ally.” you proposed, standing in an attempt to match his demeanor but he was much taller, despite your heals.
“What do you gain from helping me?” He asked, puzzled and hesitant to believe that the daughter of a powerful man who he was going to rob from would help him.
You grinned, with mischief was prominent in your eyes, ”to ruin the fun of all the dirty bastards here and to minorly inconvenience ‘daddy’s’ event… also, why would I miss the chance at fun night with a Mandalorian?”
“Fine. But if you try to sell me out-” he started.
“Yeah yeah big guy, i’ve heard it all,” you shushed him and took a sip of his drink.
He had hesitantly explained part of the plan and omitted any specific information; grab some documents that held information regarding someone he had captures (can you guess who? ). The hardest part would be making your way up with such a flashy man.
“Follow my lead.” you whispered to him, grabbing his hand and placing a flirty smile on your face.
He definitely didn’t trust you yet, so he was hesitant to follow you and he wasn’t one for physical touch; you were only slightly overstepping his boundaries. Your sudden grasp of his (armored) hand threw him off. If the touching wasn’t enough, he definitely didn’t expect whatever the hell you were going to do next.
“Ma’am nobody is allowed to-” a guard had attempted to stop you, but you flashed a pass.
“I have special access. And I just want a room, if you catch my drift.” you said flashing Mando a flirty look.
The guard became embarrassed and uncomfortable at your insinuation.
“Ye-Yes ma’am,” he stuttered, stepping aside.
You pulled the Mandalorian up the stairs and he followed closely, albeit a bit flustered at your actions--he’d never admit it though.
“Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable there. It’s just that stuff like that makes people more vulnerable to persuasion,” you threw him a smile.
You turned a few hallways and finally made your way to the one that held the papers. This hallway was forbidden, even for you, so you’d have to be extra careful. You heard a guard approaching so you quickly messed up your hair and wrapped Mando’s hand across your waist.
Leaning in close, you whispered a quick, “Take me to a room, I’m drunk.”
He thankfully got the message and gave a curt nod.
“Hey! You can’t be here!” An armed guard made his way to you both.
“Mr. Aldones daughter needs a place to sober up, we’re just looking for a room.” he spoke as you acted like the best damn drunk you could concur up from (many) passed experiences.
“This is a forbidden area.” He cautioned.
You immediately pretended to cry, “Don’t yell at me! I’m going to tell daddy you’re being insabordinate!” You slurred and hiccupped.
“Nice going, you made the girl cry,” the Mandalorian spoke up. You could hear the slightest hint of amusement from him.
“No I-I didn’t mean to- Please don’t tell your father,” he begged.
“I’ll make sure she keeps quiet, but you should get out of here. You know what her father would do to someone who makes his daughter upset, don’t you?” Mando warned.
The guard nodded and thanked Mando before running off.
“You don’t seem like the type that would act so well.” You replied, wiping a bit of mascara and loose tears from your eyes.
You took out your key and fiddled with the lock.
“Shit..” you mumbled. This lock was reinforced much better than the rest, “I can’t-”
“Move aside,” Mando spoke.
Pressing some buttons on his wrist cuff, the Mandalorian successfully shot the lock. He entered quickly and looked through the papers inside. He found a locked box hidden between a messy pile of books and smashed it with his fists. The grunt he let out from the power of his punch caused a shock to course through your body and your thighs to clench.
“I got it-” he was cut off by a screeching alarm.
“Shitshitshit..” your eyes widened with genuine fear of being caught filled your body.
You must’ve been blinded by your want of fun because you genuinely didn’t think about the consequences of being caught. Mando quickly took your wrist and ran down to the hall into the nearest bathroom.
“Okayokay, it’s fine this is fine,” you breathed, beginning to hyperventilate.
You liked to cause chaos, but you might’ve gone too far this time; why was this document so important? If you survived this, you were never coming here again. Suddenly, an idea popped into your mind (definitely not a good one, but it was really your only chance of running free).
“I got it!” you yelled, digging through your purse for your dark red lipstick, “if there’s one thing i’ve learned from years of fucking around, it’s that theres nothing a red lipstick can’t solve.” you said while you pulled out the delicate tube.
Quickly leaning over the mirror, you applied a coat of the silky crimson color and then smeared it with your hand. You went to apply a second coat and then turned to face him.
“Not to sound thirsty, but we have to make out so they think we’re doing it.. and I know the faces of Mandalorians can’t be seen so you’ll have to give me some marks as proof, I can wrap my eyes with this shawl” You spoke urgently, but awkwardly.
He seemed to stare at you through his visor for a good minute, likely looking for an alternative to making out. You began to feel small under his gaze, maybe the idea was THAT terrible and he was rethinking his alliance with you? You hoped he wouldn’t think you’re too strange after this. The bounty hunter tried to think of an alternative, coming up with nothing, he sighed and went to lock the door and shut the lights.
“Turn around and close your eyes,” he ordered, waiting for you to comply.
You hesitantly turned your back to him and heard the sound of something popping off and then hissing. You won’t lie, the authority in his voice was very… alluring. You felt a heavy pressure over your head, before realizing he was sliding the helmet onto your head and your vision was purely black.
“… I’m sorry about this..” He spoke, seeming genuinely apologetic.
“No worries cowboy, you’re not the worst person I could be stuck doing this with,” you joked, hoping to ease his tension, “in fact, your voice tells me you’re a real looker,” you teased.
Snorting, he held your hip and hesitantly dove for your neck. All he needed to do was leave two or three marks so it would be believable. Your breathe hitched as he began running his lips over your throat. Biting your lip and gripping his shoulder, you forced yourself to swallow gasps he gently coaxed reddish-purple bruises to the surface with his lips; you didn’t want to seem too eager.
“They won’t think anything’s happening if you don’t make noise,” He warned with an even voice, only slightly breathless from his actions.
Was he unfazed by all of this? Here you were struggling to contain ALL sorts of noises, only for him to be nonchalant about the whole situation. Hurt because of his seeming lack of interest, you were pulled into your thoughts. Trying to feel where you were (and trying to not accidentally touch you too inappropriately) he slid his hand to your knee and gave it a good squeeze; a warning that you had to make this believable. Increasing the pressure of his kiss to you throat, you let out a few breathy groans just as someone knocked on the door. Mando quickly took his helmet off of you and placed it on his head. You slid your dress straps off of your shoulder and pretended to cover your chest with your shawl before opening the door.
“Y-yes? Is there a problem,” you asked flushed and breathless because you felt like a mess and because you were (unfortunately) turned on.
“Oh um.. I don’t suppose you heard anybody sneaking around here, down that hallway,” a female guard asked, flustered and pointed to the hallway you had just stolen from.
“No, I’ve been..” you cleared your throat and smiled, “busy in here.”
She nodded and ran off to check the rest of the rooms. Checking the hallway, you pulled your straps up and pulled the Mandalorian down the stairs and back to the first floor. Amongst the commotion, you had managed to escape the building and ran with Mando to wherever he was going. Embarassed that you looked like a mess from the fake “sex”, you covered your face with the small shawl. You stopped behind an alleyway and caught your breath.
“Thank you.. It couldn’t have gone better without you,” Mando spoke up.
You looked up at him, flushed, and nodded your head slowly while wiping away the lipstick you had smeared on your chin.
“No worries, this was exciting. A little too exciting.. I doubt I’ll be doing any shenanigans anytime soon,” you laughed awkwardly.
He let out a chuckle and pulled out a pouch.
“I’m sorry for the..” he trailed off pointing to his neck, “Take this, for your trouble.” he handed you a pouch of money.
You shook your head, “Keep it. This was fun and in case you’ve forgotten, I am wealthy,” you joked in a stereotypical pompous accent, “If you ever decide to come back, maybe we can spend some more time together,” you suggested, hoping you’d see him again.
He thought about it, nodded, and turned to leave with a final thanks. You sighed and leaned up against the wall; he turned you the hell on and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want more. Biting your lip you began to walk home, smirking to yourself as you remembered the red-lip mark you’d left on the inside of his mask; he had to have seen it and you were curious as to why he didn’t mention it.
“Y/N! There you are! Where the hell did you go?” Seliah yelled in the distance.
“Hey Sel? Where did you buy me this lipstick again? I accidentally broke it,” You spoke.
“Um? Are we going to ignore the fact that you look like a total mess?” She sighed, “let’s take you home, we can shop for it tomorrow… wait where did you get those hickies?! Your father is going to kill you!”
“He can’t if he doesn’t find out,” you sung and began walking home.
#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian imagine#mando x reader#mando x you#mando x cara#mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin imagine#din djarin fic#dyn narren x reader#dyn jarren#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fic#star wars#starwars#baby yoda#cara dune#cara dune x reader#fanfic#smut#the mandalorian x y/n#mando x y/n#din djaren x y/n
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HELLLOOOOOO WELCOME TO “CARY ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING!?!?” feat. a little i will go down with this ship! story about the “real” viktor nikiforov
this fic asks you to disregard a little bit of canon. we all change things in our creative decisions, of course! nothing too major ;) i’ve changed and grown a lot since i started writing iwgdwts
but! the moment y’all have been waiting for! i thought it would be best to reveal in a small drabble on tumblr bc y’all are great and it’s been so long since i posted yoi fic so you deserved something fun and exciting!!!
“Are you sure I should do this?” Yuuri mumbled, resting his head against Viktor’s shoulder. He had been thinking about it for a while, ever since he and Viktor had started dating. He kept talking to Vik, and Viktor encouraged it.
“Of course!” Viktor mused, kissing Yuuri’s hair softly. “You’ve gotten really close to her, right? I think it would be fun! I’ll come with you, we can tell her that we both like the fics. It’s cute!”
“Most people would find it creepy, Vitya,” Yuuri laughed.
“She’s never done anything rude. She’s always very sweet and gives you the love you deserve. And her fics are great. We should meet ‘therealviknik’.” Viktor always put airquotes around Vik’s username because he thought that it was hilarious that someone online was claiming to really be him (at least, by URL).
Viktor, of course, wasn’t Vik.
That was a frankly laughable scenario. The kind that Vik would write in her fanfiction. The shocking, romantic kind that would take her a thousand years between each update because she can’t decide what will make the chapter the best and gets buried in other work and other ideas. The kind that Yuuri and thousands (unbelievably, amazingly, something that Vik would eternally be incredibly grateful for) of people would read.
It’s not the kind of thing that would happen in real life.
Yuuri swallowed and opened up tumblr.
katsukiforov: hey vik!
katsukiforov: i was thinking, and i know this is weird after all the anonymity and stuff, but i was thinking maybe… we could meet up?
katsukiforov: i get if you don’t want to!!! it’s a really weird request and sort of out of the blue…
katsukiforov: i just think … i should probably tell you about myself in person haha…
therealviknik: omg!!!! you want to meet? jsdalkfsa;;
therealviknik: i’m outta school rn and not working yet so i’m super free!!! are you coming here or there or
katsukiforov: i… don’t know where you are, but i can come to you. i don’t want you to have to pay for the trip when it was my idea
katuskiforov: plus my boyfriend wants to come with me and so he’ll find it fun to go somewhere new
therealviknik: i mean ohio is boring as Hell but you’re definitely welcome to come visit :)
therealviknik: i’ll show you the best of ohio ;)
therealviknik: so all of like… three things
katsukiforov: you’re in ohio, then?
therealviknik: 22 years here the real question is when am i Not in ohio asjldfas;;
Yuuri laughed at the messages and kept talking until he’d gathered a good date to meet up with Vik and the specific city in Ohio where she lived.
It was weirdly exciting, actually, that he was going to meet Vik. He’d pictured her a lot over the years of talking to her. He’d gotten what he thought was a pretty good image.
She never posted selfies, but he knew that she was in a wheelchair after many conversations about her frustrations with broken motors and dumb stories (like her tripping over it at 1 in the morning because she decided to push it with her feet instead of her hands).
She liked ants, loved Viktor, mostly owned the color purple, would die for Ant-Man, and had a lizard named Smaug, among other things.
And he was going to meet her in Ohio.
He supposed that explained the time that she edited Viktor’s face onto corncobs at like 3am. When he’d been in college in Detroit, he’d driven to multiple cities in Ohio (since it really wasn’t that far at all, driving from Ohio to Detroit was completely reasonable for a musical you really want to see, or something like that). And, well… once you got past Toledo, Ohio was pretty much all the same.
Corn.
Still, he was excited to go since it meant meeting Vik. Nervous, but Viktor did his best to help Yuuri keep his nerves down.
Before he knew it, he was in the airport, a ticket to Ohio in hand. He checked tumblr one last time before he boarded, sending a video of a lizard chasing after some crickets to Vik before messaging.
katsukiforov: getting on the plane now
therealviknik: !!!
therealviknik: i am So Hype kat omg jaslkdfas;;
therealviknik: i’ll be at the airport!
therealviknik: i’m the one in the wheelchair and the ant-man shirt probably Still crying about this lizard jsakldfas;;
katsukiforov: knew you’d like that one
katsukiforov: see you soon!
Yuuri turned off the phone as he stepped onto the plane. He tapped his fingers against his leg the whole ride, trying to keep breathing. This would be fine. Vik would probably freak out, but hopefully she’d be cool about it and not like… totally go crazy.
The plane landed and Yuuri went to gather his luggage before he could look for Vik. He held tight to the handle of his suitcase, each step feeling like a thousand as he approached.
There were a bunch of people in the airport, but after a second he was pretty sure that he saw her.
A girl sat there, pink earphones plugged into her phone as she watched some video, lost to the world. From the reflection in her purple and blue framed glasses, Yuuri was pretty sure it was something about… ants?
If the wheelchair and Ant-Man shirt weren’t dead giveaways that she’d told him herself¸ then crying about a video about ants in a crowded airport certainly would be.
That had to be Vik.
He walked up to her and she looked up, taking a second to untangle her earphone from her long and unruly ponytail. Her eyes widened as she made eye contact, opening and closing her mouth a few times before settling on just staring.
Yuuri awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… Vik?”
“Oh my god,” Vik whispered, staring up at him. She set her phone down (and, yes, she was definitely watching some video about ants). “Yeah, but you can call me Cary. Wait, are you serious? Are you Kat?”
“Sorry,” Yuuri groaned, covering his face. “I know it’s weird.”
Cary waved her hands and her wheelchair started to move before she yelped, tapping her wrist against her leg with an awkward look. “I forgot my motor actually was working, sorry,” she laughed before looking up at him again. “Are you telling me that Yuuri Katsuki has read my fics?”
“I know it’s weird,” Yuuri repeated, groaning. “This is why I thought it would be better to tell you in person.”
“It’s super weird,” Cary said, fiddling with the end of her hair before shaking her head. “Oh my god,” she whispered, laughing softly. “Yuuri Katsuki sends me videos of lizards that make me cry because they’re so cute.”
Then her eyes hardened, glaring at him.
That wasn’t what he expected. Of course, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, considering the fact that he had lied to her, but he had sort of… expected that to be the first reaction, not some follow-up. “My characterization is great, thank you very much!” she finally said and Yuuri stared at her.
“It is, Viktor and I have joked that you write like you actually know us and – “
“No,” Cary cut in. “You kept commenting about how I made Yuuri too good at stuff. You’re amazing, and you deserve everything I give you in fics. Shut up.”
“Oh.” Yuuri stared at her, his eyes wide. He was never great at taking compliments, but he’d gotten used to them from Vik, even though she hadn’t known directly that she was complimenting him before… “Thank you?”
“You’re welcome,” Cary said, crossing her arms over her chest before her face filled with a bright smile. “I still can’t believe it’s you. Oh my god. Lily and I were thinking about getting a photoshoot with you and Viktor at a convention together, and we wouldn’t have even known.”
“You’re… not going to tell anyone, right? I know I’ve dropped out of the fandom quite a bit since me and Viktor started dating, but I just… want to make sure that no one knows.”
“Let it out, and lose you online? No way! Your secret is safe with me,” Cary smiled, tapping her hand against her wheel. The motor turned on, rolling smoothly though making an odd clicking noise. Judging by past descriptions of the motor, he assumed it was almost pristine with only a small noise. Yuuri walked after her, having to walk a bit too quickly to keep up.
“Thank you,” he said gratefully, smiling at her. “I’d miss talking to you too. It’s weird. Phichit is totally open with who he is online, but I just… this is better.”
“Oh, especially. Wouldn’t want everyone finding out about you reading the weird stuff.” Cary turned to him and winked.
The weirdest thing he read was the time that she wrote a fic for her own birthday that featured him turning into a lizard at the full moon and keeping ants. He was pretty sure that no one would care about the “weird stuff.” He didn’t want to read any of the weird stuff.
They walked in almost silence for a little bit before Cary slammed her hand against her wheel, effectively stopping her motor. Cary glanced at Yuuri, a shockingly shy look on her face. “Wait if you’re Yuuri, does that mean when you said your boyfriend is coming, that means…” Cary trailed off, staring at him with wide eyes.
Right. Of course. That little detail was one she’d latch onto. Cary, as much as she wrote about both of them, had a habit to focus on Viktor and often posted compliments about him only. “Viktor’s showing up tomorrow.”
“Oh my god.” Yuuri could only describe the noise that Cary made as a shriek, her eyes wide and excited. Yuuri laughed, shaking his head. “Look, I love you, I love your love, you know I love that, but Viktor Nikiforov is my life.”
“I would have never known,” Yuuri laughed. Between Cary’s icon, blog description, URL, and everything else, her love of Viktor was hardly a secret.
He could relate.
After all, wasn’t that part of why he’d loved her fics?
happy april fool’s day
i love you i’m gonna have a real update eventually i promise ajskldfa;;
#thishasbeencary#my fic#i will go down with this ship!#pls appreciate the lengths i went to to keep this Relatively in character
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Documenting my first experience at LCS in LA: Week 9 of Spring Split 2017
(writing about my experience, first impressions, + more pictures n videos/fancams n stuff inside :D click keep reading!! Note: this is a REALLY long post)
Henlo everyone, whew, it was such an exciting weekend! I want to write about my experience so here I go:
some notes before I start talking about it:
there are spoilers in this post so if you don’t want spoilers go watch the games first :3
FOR DESKTOP USERS: Whenever I try playing the videos in the post on my blog, for some reason every video after the first will not play. I don’t know if it’s because of my browser or theme or it’s just flickr, but if you want to play the video and it’s not playing for you, all you have to do is hover your mouse over the video and click on the title link of the video that’s right above my flickr username “Theberrylily8889six” right here:
[EDIT]: If you’re still having trouble playing the videos, here’s a link to my Flickr profile, you can just watch the videos from there.
also btw i know im not wearing a bra in the first pics hopefully that doesn’t bother you guys lol but I don’t really have boobs to begin with and like wearing the smallest bra just feels like putting unnecessary discomfort on myself like it’s not like I need to hold something nonexistent in place so it’s just bc i need to cover my pepperonis for society?? I wore them when I was younger and i would get like rashes and even scars from the underwire and i was like WHY AM I DOING THIS ok i can keep ranting about this but dis post is not about dat so onwards
this is quite a long post
I was supposed to go Friday but I remembered that LCS starts later on Friday, and I was taking public transport from like an hour away so I didn’t want to be dealing with that late at night in LA because it’s a little dangerous since I was alone. So unfortunately I didn’t get to meet Team Dignitas :(
Saturday
Anyways, Saturday was CLG vs IMT, and P1 vs C9.
CLG vs IMT
IMT stomped on CLG pretty hard, because Stixxay got really sick last minute, so they had to fly in Joey to sub support (he flew in at like 4 am OMG!!), and I was also surprised with the Aphro adc. I didn’t know who to cheer for as usual for most matches, I just wanted both teams to have fun rip. Also props to Joey for subbing last minute, the crowd was really kind and always cheered and clapped for his efforts haha.
Also I would like to point out that FLAMEDOCH IS REAL, the camera doesn’t capture this all the time but off camera Flame and Dardoch talk to each other the most on the team, they’re always laughing, they’re pretty touchy, and just overall super cute. Also I recorded a video of this on my snap but I’M SO ANGRY I FORGOT TO SAVE IT IT WAS SO CUTE but after game one Flame and Dardoch went to the break room holding hands and swinging their hands back and forth like a couple, I don’t think the camera caught this. TL;DR FLAMEDOCH IS VERY REAL GUYS AND IF YOU SEE THEM BEING TOUCHY ON CAMERA THEY’RE JUST AS TOUCHY ALL THE TIME OFF CAMERA TOO AO;SIFNAOIW;ENF
Then came the CLG and IMT fan meet. You have to take a picture with both teams btw. When I went up to take a group picture with IMT, Pobelter was like “Hi” and I was like “hi” back xD
After you take group photos you can talk with players and take some selfies real quick before they head back. Since I already met CLG, I didn’t take more photos with them but I talked with Darshan. Actually, at the CLG meetup I went to earlier, it was Darshan who told me exactly “Well I really hope I see you again in LA this season to support us!” and Saturday I told him “I remember you told me this exactly so I took a 13 hour train all the way down here just to support you guys!!!” lol. We had a nice conversation. Darshan is a really nice guy, and I also want to say that Aphro is too. This is the second time I met them and I’ve noticed this, they seem to be the ones to talk with their fans and really care the most.
I was also able to get a selfie with Dardoch, Pobleter, and Flame.
Dardoch to me seems like a kind person. I know he has a controversial past and I do believe he wasn’t the kindest in the past, but I really believe in “reformed” dardoch. He seems to care about his fans a lot these days. Also, when you take a picture with Dardoch he pulls you in so close a;oiewnefia;ejf....like he holds you so tight and snug and basically i was ded
Pobelter seems like a funny guy. Like...his personality is exactly like how his snapchats are LOL. Kind of like a slightly awkward yet super memey funny guy lmao.
and let me tell you about Flame man...this man is so BEAUTIFUL. Like, I’ve noticed he’s not too photogenic, but the photos really don’t do him justice. Like he’s actually EXTREMELY handsome in real life, it’s unexplainable, but he’s such a beautiful man OTL. Also Flame’s personality, he really is a “pup”! @pikaniuu always refers to Flame as a cute mans and a pup because he literally is one!! He gets distracted/immersed by little things and is a little oblivious in a cute way.
C9 vs P1
C9 also pulled the win against P1 pretty easily, well, they’re C9 so they always do pretty well. I brought the big light up C9 sign to the stage, and the camera actually caught me with it! Woooh (here’s a twitch clip of me hahaha)
Also they took a picture of me with the sign and put it on the riot flickr! wow much HD
here’s a video of me touching hands with C9 lol
Soo I got to take photos with P1 and C9 of course. I also had the giant light up C9 with me as well. When I went to go take a group photo with C9, sneaky was like ooo what’s that and he said it was really nice. Also, SNEAKY AND CONTRACTZ WERE BEING REALLY CUTE TOGETHER because Sneaky kept poking at his cheeks and Contractz was looking back at Sneaky doing the same. Idk it was really adorable, I didn’t get to capture too much of it but here’s a short video (I’ll try to gif it soon, it’s just sooo cute)
lmao I think Sneaky saw me recording them at the end xD RIP
After the group photos I was able to take a selfie with Meteos, and all of C9 except for Jensen (Jensen leaves the fan meet pretty early so I missed him).
not gonna lie Dark meteos is pretty hot irl. I also asked him to sign my C9 poster for C9. NO SHAME
Smoothie’s super nice. I told him I liked his new hair hehe. He talked with me for a while, ahh I love Smoothie so much
OKAY IMPACT’S PERSONALITY IS LITERALLY LIKE FLAME. THEY BOTH HAVE PUPPY PERSONALITIES, IT’S SO CUTE. When I asked them to sign my sign, Impact got really immersed and fiddled with my sign for a while. He was like, really excitedly, “WOW SO COOL!! , DOES IT LIGHT UP???? CAN I TURN IT ON??? *turns it on* WOWWWOWOWOOW OMG SO COOL.” And it was so fckin cute just seeing him so intrigued by my sign lol.
Contractz is a little shy but still cute as ever. Ahh it’s weird to think that he’s younger than me xD
Ray is such a QT! He didn’t talk much and is also a little shy, but nevertheless I loved Ray!
Lastly, I need to talk about Sneaky Daddy. Oh my god, he’s the one that left the biggest impression on me. He is literally so kind and friendly, he talks to you immediately when you go take a group photo with him, and if you go up to him to take a picture or sign something, he always makes a conversation with every fan no matter how shy they are. The way Sneaky talks to you, he talks like you’re already best friends. He makes you super comfortable around him, and he really seems to enjoy interacting with the fans. Also out of all the members, he’s the one who stayed behind the longest to chat with all the fans, even when it was time to go. He makes sure he gets a good conversation with everyone. My respect and fangirlism for Sneaky went up 1000%. Also not to mention his hair is fucking beautiful and graceful and his eyes are literal marbles and his skin is fair and smooth as fuck??? Sneaky is actually beautiful, like, he’s so pretty, his face is like art tbh. I’ve always noticed this but especially now I really feel like out of all the pros, Sneaky is the one who enjoys his job the most and to the fullest. I mean like he doesn’t just like winning, he enjoys learning from his mistakes and losses, he enjoys streaming, he values every one of his fans, he always seems to be a very good sport, he's extremely passionate about the work he has to put in to scrim all the time and improve. TL;DR, Sneaky is an incredibly kind-hearted, friendly, and genuine person.
They also signed my C9 Fansign! :D (lul @ Meteos’s signature on a C9 fansign)
FOX vs NV
So I only got tickets for NALCS1, but I stuck around a little longer and one of the employees said that they could let me in the other theatre to watch the last FOX vs NV that was still going on. Yay! So I got to catch the last game, which Echo Fox won. Unfortunately Team EnVY didn’t come out for pictures or the fanmeet (I really wanted to meet Apollo <3 T.T), but it’s understandable that someone wouldn’t want to go to a fanmeet when the team isn’t doing so well in the standings. Oh well. Anyways, I got to meet Echo Fox, and I took a selfie with Looper and Akaadian and I got to talk to Akaadian for a while.
I asked Akaadian who his favorite Brodie is. He was like “My favorite brodie? Hmmm...that’s a good question” and he said Zedxlol (for you guys who don’t know, he was on Team Liquid Academy with the rest of the brodies Moon and Dardoch, and they’re all really close). Then I was like, “Not Moon?” And then he was like, “Ah this is such a hard question, I love all my brodies in different ways. I guess as well it would probably be Moon, we’re really close. He’s really such a nice guy deep down.”
Looper is just so precious???? He’s so cute lmao and he’s also a shy boy >.<
Sunday
Sunday was TSM vs P1 and FLY vs TL. Sunday I also met up with @liquidhunny and her friends and it was really fun! (das us in the last photo of my photoset)
TSM vs P1
TSM played really well against P1. Oh, and let’s not forget that drink that Hauntzer spilled LOL. This matchup was really conflicting for me because in the particular matchup between TSM and P1 I’m a bigger fan of TSM and I wanted them to win, but if P1 won that mean C9 would take first place so it was like...AHHH CONFLICTING FEELINGS.
Here’s a video of the hand touching part. SRY THE CAMERA’S SMUDGY
When I took the group photo, Bjerg said hellooo to me and I was like helloo. If you look back at the group photos Sven is blinking...they took two photos and Sven was blinking in BOTH pictures OTL. Then after the group pictures, they had to leave quickly so I didn’t have much time to take selfies. I quickly found my favorite boy from TSM, Biofrost <3 and took a selfie with him. THE CAMERA ANGLE AND LIGHTING IS SO BAD BUT I DON’T CARE IT’S BIOFROST AND I’M HAPPY
Biofrost is very polite and kind of shy. He’s so cuuute >.<
And also, I would just like to say this. God DAMN Hauntzer is cute as FUCk. Jesus Christ lord have mercy. So, I’ve never been a huuuuggee fangirl of Hauntzer, just lowkey kind of liked him, but nothing crazy. BUT NOW THAT I MET HIM IRL YOU HAUNTZER FANGIRLS I FEEL YOU GUYS. I FEEL YALL. @ahriyoudoneyet I UNDERSTAND NOW. HE GOT ME SO SHOOK. WHEN HE TALKED WITH SVEN AND LAUGHED AND SMILED I WAS LEGIT ATTACKED. I WAS ATTACKED!!! HE LOOKS 1000000X BETTER IN PERSON MAN AND IT’S ALL THAT DUMB SMILE. WHEN HE SMILED I LEARNED THERE EXISTS THE BRIGHTEST SHADE OF WHITE IN ALL OF EXISTENCE RIGHT THERE IN HAUNTZER’S SMILE. CANCER WAS CURED AND WORLD HUNGER HAS ENDED. JESUS CHRIST. HE GOT LIQUIDHUNNY AND I SO SHOOK IN THAT MOMENT, I LEGIT HAD TO GRASP MY HEART AND HOLD ON TO MY LEFT BOOB FOR DEAR MERCY. TL;DR HAUNTZER’S SMILE MURDERS PEOPLE
FLY vs TL
Oh god. I just wanted both teams to have fun, as usual. I think I’m just slightly more of a Flyquest fan because I loved old C9, and also because I LOVE MOON. Fortunately after game 2 Flyquest won enough to get to playoffs, so in the 3rd game I was hoping TL would win so they would avoid relegations. Flyquest ended up winning, so I was a little happy for them, but maaan I felt so bad for Team Liquid T.T
A video of the Flyquest victory hand touching :D
lmao you can hear me saying MOOOON oh im such Moon trash
Anyways, it came time for the fan meet. And oh god, it was so painful to see TL out there. They looked incredibly depressed :(. Lourlo and Piglet seemed to be the saddest out of everyone, I really hope they cheer up ;_; Even taking the picture with them, I felt so weird because they were just so sad. You can tell they couldn’t even smile for the photos T.T
After the group photos, I didn’t want to inconvenience TL too much because of the loss, but I did just quickly ask Reignover to say hello in a video to @reignover and @yinglol, because I know how much they love Reignover xD It’s just a short little 4 second video, but hopefully it made their day.
With Flyquest, can we just take a moment to appreciate how smol Balls is? Someone gave him a flower crown to wear and he kept it on for my group photo, IM BLESSED.
After the group photos, finally, @liquidhunny and I went up to Moon. If you guys don’t know, she worked REALLY hard on a gift to give to moon which was made up of a fan art poster, a customized hat just for Moon, and I little notebook filled with notes and letters from fans. (Here’s here tumblr post about her gift)
And here is her final poster design:
ISN’T IT SO GOOD?!?! She printed me another copy of the poster THANK YOU SO MUCH AHHH
Anyways, we went up to Moon and she told him about the presents and gave it to him. Moon said it was so awesome, and then Hunny asked “Can I take a selfie with you?” and then Moon was like, “Can I hug you?” AND SHE WAS SHOOK AND I WAS SHOOK FOR HER!!! Moon hugged her, and I was so happy for her, and then Moon hugged me and i was shOOK like A;OWFEIAEWF I DONT DESERVE THIS BUT THANK YOU. You’re actually not supposed to hug the fans during the fan meet, but we didn’t even ask to hug him, HE asked Hunny if he could hug her and also hugged me!!! Ahh this was all so touching, and he’s such a nice guy.
Moon posing with Hunny’s hat gift :D
AINT DIS PHOTO SO CUTE Moon was so touched and it was overall just a super happy moment.
Moon actually thanked Hunny on twitter! AAAaaaaaahhhh
I also asked to take a selfie with moon:
I told Moon that he was like my FAAAVORITEE and I love his jungling and everything. Ahh. And HIS EYES ARE SO BEAUTIFUL ok I say this about like every pro but seriously they’re like green-hazel and just so pretty...??? That was the last pro interaction I had and it was just so great to end the day meeting my favorite player.
At the end of the event, we all took a group picture with the backgrop.
League/LCS brings people together and I’m so happy about that :D
Final Thoughts:
Overall, I had sooo much fun. It was super nice meeting @liquidhunny and all the pros.
One thing that I want to state is that: I expected that meeting all the pros would be very...perfect and happy? Idk how to explain it much, but, the reality is, pros are very, very human. Unfortunately, the losing team can get very sad, and it’s heartbreaking to see them in that state. But that’s the way that the pro scene works. Also, meeting these people in real life, you could really tell which people care about their fans a lot and are just really warm, kind, friendly, and genuine people on the inside (like I mentioned that I saw that Sneaky is like this, as well as many others). I don’t want to say or judge that the people that didn’t appear as warm as Sneaky or interact with fans much are bad people, because like I said, pros are very human and you’ll never know if they could just be having a bad day or are really down after a loss.
Also, I’m lowkey facing withdrawal LOL especially Biofrost withdrawal currently bc he was so adorable and honestly I should have looked at him more on stage >///<
Wowow what a long post and a fun weekend! I actually have the BTS concert next weekend MY HEART CAN’T TAKE THIS IT’S ALREADY BEEN DESTROYED OVER THE WEEKEND AND I’M NOT PREPARED!! AHHH!!
Thanks you guys for reading this and I hope you all can see them play in person one day!
#me#thoughts#league of legends#league#lcs#na lcs#clg#counter logic gaming#imt#immortals#cloud 9#c9#p1#phoenix1#tsm#team solomid#tl#team liquid#flyquest#fly#esports#lol esports#echo fox#fox#lol
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EMP Theory is Alive and Thriving
I want to preface this post with this: I am in no way trying to offend or upset the people who do not believe in EMP. This show can be read in so many ways, even by the people who agree on most things. I respect everyone’s opinion. This is just mine!
So, with that said, I want to go through some things I noticed in The Six Thatchers that (to me) are Extended Mind Palace smoking guns. Let it be said that I have only watched the episode twice so there is definitely going to be more to add to this list.
1.) The story about death in Sumara. It was mentioned multiple times, by multiple characters. Almost like they were all given the same script. And you may be like, well, yeah, they are actors in a show, but writers do not give actors the same brain. But it is like Sherlock, Mycroft, and Norbury all share a brain. They all bring up the story without any of the characters speaking to each other about the story first. Sherlock’s dialogue is a voice over, which is not time stamped. It is possible that Mycroft and Norbury brought up the story and then Sherlock used it in his monologue to the audience, but why did Mycroft and Norbury both think of the story? Because they share a brain. Sherlock’s brain.
2.) As @tjlcisthenewsexy pointed out, the sharks, CAM, water, and the death story are also very telling. This post/thread sums it up far better than I could.
3.) Intuition, Premonition- these words were used to describe Sherlock’s feelings about The Six Thatchers case. Premonition is defined as a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Sherlock is anticipating his death, and his intuition is telling him that Mary is involved. Its almost as if she is responsible for his murder in the first place…
4.) The odd transitions and reality breaks. The water imagery over Sherock’s face and in the background of certain scenes, Mycroft and his office busting just as the MT busts were doing throughout the episode, the overlay of a cracked bust on the side of Sherlock’s face. There is an argument for production style here, but its all so very over the top. Much more so than ususal for BBC’s Sherlock. Its almost like they want you to question what you are seeing…
5.) The Damn Skull. In case you can’t tell. Its glowing, almost like an x-ray. Like, an x-ray of someone who is currently laying in a hospital bed. Its fucking glowing guys. Adding onto the fact that it was blue in HLV, something is seriously wrong here.
6.) Mary and John sleeping on opposite sides of the bed from where they slept at the beginning of HLV.
7.) AJ doesn’t care about killing people enough to slit the throat of one of the Thatcher bust owners (unless it was really Mary who killed her), but doesnt shoot Sherlock when Sherlock tells him he is Mary’s friend and he will protect her. Um. Okay.
8.) Sherlock Holmes. His first and last name was said multiple times, by multiple people. Almost as if the entire world is centered around him. We hear his full name multiple times in his confrontation with AJ at the pool. “Who are you? Sherlock Holmes. Who is Sherlock Holmes? Not a policeman.” (This is a reference to ACD or canon Sherlock Holmes who is always described as “Not a policeman or vigilante, just a logical man with an eye for detective work.”) AJ’s “Goodbye Sherlock Holmes” is haunting me too, and not just because of the cheesy line. Where else have we heard someone say, “Goodbye Mr. Holmes”? (Honest question, I know its significant…help! EDIT TO ADD: A couple people have pointed out that this is what Irene texts Sherlock in ASiB. I do remember this, but it isn’t what I had in mind. I feel like I can hear someone say it…like in a threatening way the way AJ does…any takers?)
9.) “Sherlock the dragon slayer.” Mary says this to Sherlock after she gives him what looks like a wickedly smug smile. First of all, how the hell does Mary know Sherlock sees himself this way. When he and Mycroft had this conversation, she was in the middle of passing out in John’s arms. Unless she knows Sherlock sees himself this way because the conversation with Mycroft took place in Sherlock’s mind, just as this ones does.
10.)”My Darling.” Mary begins her letter to John in the most old fashioned, cheesy way. Its not the way Mary Morstan talks…but it is the Mrs. John Watson talks- from TAB. “I don’t mind you going, my darling, I mind you leaving me behind.”
11.) Mary’s disguise on the plane was a joy to watch, but it reminded me of someone else. Sherlock. Sherlock loves disguises and theatrics. The vicar from ASiB and the french waiter from TEH spring to mind.
12.) The number 6. Six months of bristly kisses. 6 months until SHerlock was to die in exile. 6 years that AJ was held in captivity. 6 Thatcher busts. A metaphorical 666 carved into the baby’s head. Highlighted 6 before giving us this:
The number 6 is important to Sherlock, but why?
13.) John’s blog. There should be multiple blog posts for us to read and yet, there aren’t. Its not that Joe is no longer available, bc they’ve told us he has a project for this series…why stop updating the blog? Because there have been no more cases and John is too busy sleeping by Sherlock’s hospital bed. oH, and The six Thatchers? Already a case Sherlock solved. Years ago.
14.) Scene in Georgia. The ambassador says, “I’ve got something they’d love if I could just get out of here” (Paraphrasing). The man asks what and the ambassador replies, “Amo.” She has love. Just like Sherlock has love and has figured it out and if he could just get the hell out of that coma, out of the damn hospital bed, he could give it to John- and John would love him in return.
15.) The two lengthy rapid deductions Sherlock makes are about Mary.
16.) The white papers of doom. There are three of them. Mary to Sherlock (drugged), Exx to John (temptation), and Molly to Sherlock from John (emotional distress). There was a white note of doom in TAB too. Miss me?
17.) John’s cheating story line. It fits in with TAB (see below), but I think its more complicated than just that. We get him texting someone Hey and them replying with the same.Then we get the night time text messages. They seem to be written between people who are at the beginning stages of their relationship, but are still intimate in some way. The Its been too long and Miss you implies they’ve spent time together, but the Night Owl? implies they don’t know each other very well. So, taken alone, this could definitely be from the bus woman. John then breaks it off with his This isn’t a good idea. I’m not free. Things wont end well. It was fun getting to know you a little. I’m sorry. Then the bus stop girl is waiting for him at the bus stop and he smiles at her and then looks guilty- the same look he had when he decided to keep the paper instead of throwing it away. This is what we see. HOWEVER there is more there. First, when John opens the paper to text Exx for the first time he does so horizontally, however, the image they show us has the number broken vertically, as if the paper were folded vertically and Exx isn’t broken up.
Then we’ve got Sherlock saying he deletes all messages from John that begin with the word “Hi”, then we see John text someone (E xx) with the word “Hey.” .The paper that the woman (E) gave John was already in her hand when she was sitting on the bus, she was fiddling with it when they made flirty eye-contact. She then wrote something on it before giving it to him, but the presence of the paper beforehand is suspicious. Almost as if she was planning to hand that exact paper to John anyway, before they even flirted. We’ve also got Sherlock telling John and Lestrade, very specifically, to take the bus home from the crime scene. Sherlock set John up. Why? Because that is the part he needs him to play. He needs John to feel guilty while Mary piles on the manipulative hero-worship and then dies in his arms. All of the text messages themselves are off. Almost like they are in code or written to different people. As if it is Sherlock writing for LiR, while channeling himself as well.
18.) TAB. Basically the existence of TAB is the biggest smoking gun of all. Within that episode, Mofftiss established multiple things. 1.) Sherlock sometimes goes through lengthy mind palace scenarios (with the aid of drugs) to work out a case and we, as the viewer, could be subject to watching them. 2.) A bride fakes her own death with a big splat of blood and drama, then returns to kill her husband- who was cheating on her. 3.)Sherlock made a promise to someone about keeping their spouse safe, and that promise was broken. Lady Carmichael- “You promised! You promised you’d keep him safe!” John- “You made a vow!” Let it be said that Lady C was playing Sherlock there and that she wanted her husband dead all al- OH WAIT. Actually, we never get confirmation that it was Lady C that set up the whole thing. Sherlock makes that deduction, but then Moriarty shows up and ruins the reveal. Either way, its the same story line. Sherlock makes a promise to keep someone safe and fails. 4.) we have the text messages that Sherlock sends John and Mary at the end. Mary’s reads: The Curtain Rises.The Last Act.Its Not Over. John’s is just literal directions as to where to go. He didn’t tell Mary where to meet him. There could be an argument that this would imply that Mary was already in on some sort of plan to fake her death, but the exact same phrasing was used in TAB.
19.) Mary’s video. A posthumous message that parallels Moriarty’s in many, many ways, which includes the phrase, Save John Watson. Where have we seen the phrase Save John Watson before? It was the answer to part of the skip code in TEH. John or James, indeed.
20.) “You’ve been having a reoccurring dream.” I feel like this might be an actual scene, just placed out of order. This scene might be from after Sherlock wakes up. He explains to her what he went through in his MP and she (as any therapist would do) interprets it as a dream. A reoccurring dream. That’s exactly what TAB and TST is. Its the same dream told differently. He goes to Ella after he has awoken and recovered and asks for her help in figuring out what to do with the emotions he has decided to acknowledge. (EDIT: This may actually be EMP too…read this.)
I think 20 is a good number to stop at. Im sure there will be more in the future. Please feel free to add on at your leisure.
The most important thing to realize here is that Mary is the villain and Sherlock is figuring out how to best her, protect John, and stay alive at the same time AkA- The Final Problem.
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HOW DO YOU FIND YOUR AWESOME PICTURES???? LIKE ACTUALLY???
ahh firstly thank you omg? i’ve explained how i organise my collections a few times but i’m gonna attempt to like go through my “process” without sounding really lame about it lmao
make collections for your planned aesthetics! it’s such a good way on staying on top of your images (for credit etc) but also i think slowly building on collections till you have enough for an edit is better than trying to find all the images in one sitting!
once i have a few good images in a collection, i dump them into a folder on my desktop. always save more than you’ll need! give yourself lots of options for which way to go with the edit! i always just save all the images from the collection i actually think i’d consider using (ignoring lq images, ones i’ve used before etc)
then you can use this folder as your draft! i usually set the icon size to be about 120pxls so i can see the images a little better and then start fiddling around with a layout!
if i can see that i’ve collected lots of images with a certain colour or tone to them, i’ll focus on grouping these images together and usually go for minimal images as alternates - then once i have these laid out i can see how many images i’m missing and if they should be minimal or w/e to keep the balance of things
then i go hunting for images again!!
and this is where my super over the top organisation actually comes in use. each image is sorted into as many collections are relevant (i made a post about how i organise my collections here!) so if i know i want pinkish images i go straight there and dig for relevant images, and if i know i want some more minimal images etc etc
i think it’s good to aim for an equal balance of images with models and images without. tho i’ve also found its waaay harder to find good images with than without.
but i focus more on looking for images with objects because i think they’re often the more interesting factors of moodboards and aesthetics?
soo when organising my objects i keep all the more “obvious” objects separated into collections, so when i look through my “misc” objects each image is actually something different and probably more individual than a pile of books or a bouquet of flowers haha and i think that’s really helped
also i think it’s good to try and use searching for ‘character name aes’ etc as a last resort for that one last image to help keep your aes original! there will always be multiples, and that’s fine! but it’s still good to aim to keep it as og as possible hehe
so basically, i think it’s all in the browsing and building up of collections! really spend some time on pinterest or weheartit to build up collections for some of your favourite characters or your future aes plans! i actually find weheartit calming in a way?? so i find myself spending a lot of time on there just scrolling my dashboard sorting images. bc i’m extra i use stickies to create like a border around my screen which is colour coded by hair colour and grouped by fandom/type and sex so when i find a nice image i can quickly scan my list and be more refreshed on who it could work for lmao. i’m also not shy about putting the same image in like 5 diff planned aes collections just in case the tone of the image works better for one image edit than the other!
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potty train a dog | puppy obedience training
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potty train a dog | puppy obedience training
Promoting Your Cat’s Health Manage Your Autoship How To Train A Puppy – The Essential Steps
Confinement areas can be created with exercise pens that surround a bed or attach to a crate, and they can also be created by setting up gates that can turn a bathroom or hallway into a makeshift confinement area.
How to Potty Train a Puppy: Consistency is the Key trick training Seresto Responsible Pet Ownership for Kids
Jason Rantz RSPCA warns pet owners to keep dogs cool in heat Food as a treat to train is recommended by many trainers. But the treat should be very small. A tiny piece of a treat, such as a small piece of hot dog or chicken is sufficient. The smaller the better. A pup will work hard for a small reward.
Yesterday Second Trimester Bathing Services Toggle navigation The Kennel Club Cooking 101 During the training process, it’s also a good idea to avoid making any renovations or changes in your home, as changes can be confusing for your pet.
Last, but not least, clean up anywhere he has soiled inside, first with soap and water, then with an enzymatic cleaner such as Nature’s Miracle which breaks down the protein in the urine or feces, eliminating the scent which would attract the dog to return to the same place he has gone before. If you need to get a black light to find out where he has gone, do so. The light will illuminate spots where your dog has eliminated so you can see what you need to clean up.
Housebreaking a Puppy – 12 Tips for German Shepherd Puppy Potty Training It might surprise you to hear this, but living with a dog is not all fun and games. No matter how »
You allow this free time because you are of course working toward a time when they will always be free and trusted unsupervised. To get there they need the experience, to get used to being free in your home and begin seeing it as a place they need to keep clean.
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As an overview, as you move through the various puppy training stages, think of the most important behaviors your young puppy needs to acclimate to for you both to be happy and healthy.
There’s been an uptick in antiquities smuggling in recent years, fueled by ISIS and anonymous internet sales. It’s possible that antiquities dogs could help crack down on the trade. At the very least, they seem like they might be able to sniff out any antiquities based on cats.
Copyright 2017 Red Cat Media Ltd. REALTREE Be Dog-Friendly Subscribe (Mobile) A crate should not be too big, but large enough for the puppy to stand, stretch and turn around. Dog Trainers in Orange County. Dog Trainers in Aliso Viejo. Dog Trainers in Anaheim. . Dog Trainers in Costa Mesa. . Dog Trainers in Dana Point. . Dog Trainers in Garden Grove. Dog Trainers in Huntington Beach. Dog Trainers in Irvine. Dog Trainers in Laguna Beach. Dog Trainers in Laguna Hills. Dog Trainers in Lake Forest. Dog Trainers in Mission Viejo. Dog Trainers in Newport Beach. . Dog Trainers in Rancho Santa Margarita. Dog Trainers in San Clemente. Dog Trainers in San Juan Capistrano. Dog trainers denver, dog trainers houston, dog trainers raleigh, dog trainers augusta, Dog Trainers Ashville NC, dog trainers miami, dog trainers Billings MT, dog trainers cody WY, dog trainers lexington KY, Dog training Bahamas. Dog trainers in Chicago, dog trainers in vancouver bc, Dog Trainers In Portland Oregon, Dog Trainers In Humboldt County, Dog Trainers In New Orleans,
May 2, 2017 I have only raised one bichon from puppyhood and he was extremely easy to housebreak using positive training methods. I now have a female bichon (11 months) from the same breeder and am perplexed by her behavior. She rings a bell to go out to poop about 80% of the time. Almost 20% of the remaining opportunities, I can read her signals and prompt her to ring the bell with the word “outside”. I just cannot figure out her behavior around urination. I restrict her water intake to 1 cup daily (she weighs 10 pounds), offered in 1/4 cup intervals. Since we brought her home at age 4 months, I have been using the clicker to mark “pee pee” –not too quickly because she’s highly distractible, but not quite at the end either.
– Click once (in-out.) If you want to express special enthusiasm, increase the number of treats, not the number of clicks.
360.746.1411 To start training your dog to “settle,” leash her up and take a seat. Step on the leash so your dog has only enough room to sit, stand, and turn around, but not stray from your side. Then, wait. Your dog may be excited at first, and try to jump up on your lap or run around the room. Let her figure out that she can’t go anywhere. Once she settles down on her own, say “yes!” and give her a treat.
Children’s Vaccines Repeat this a few times as often as you can for a few days. Boring? Maybe, depends how interesting your garden is and how you feel about spending this much time at your puppy’s bathroom spot. But after a few reps of this your puppy will associate just how pleased you are when they wee outside and things should improve from there.
Hurricane Tracker biOrb Noise refuge: The crate provides a safe space for your dog to relax, as well as a place to retreat during anxiety-inducing times like holidays, parties, thunderstorms, rampaging kids, and a host of other potentially stressful events that happen in our homes on a regular basis.
While raising a puppy can be very challenging and sometimes frustrating, Confident Canine Puppy Training provides excellent early socialization and shows you how to reduce stress and anxiety levels for all family members, both human and canine. I’ll help you get through this very important developmental stage of your dog’s life by showing you how to teach your puppy basic manners, how to manage your puppy’s environment to allow him/her to successfully learn appropriate behavior, and how to carefully socialize your puppy so as to avoid unnecessary fears. We’ll also cover how to take care of your puppy’s physical needs, and so much more! Basically, I’ll teach you how to raise the perfect canine addition to your family.
Gallery of Graduates 6. Potty outings should be mission-driven. if your dog tends to fiddle and frolic prior to pottying, restrict your dog’s access to play until the deed is done. Fiddling and frolicking can then become part of the reward.
Before attempting this one, make sure your dog is an expert at the “Sit” command. Electronic training[edit]
Puppy Level 1 (SPCA) How to prevent and resolve common puppy issues like nipping, inappropriate chewing, excessive barking, and jumping up.
Neva stuck $8.70 Teach him to come when called. Come Jasper! Good boy! Teaching him to come is the command to be mastered first and foremost. And since he’ll be coming to you, your alpha status will be reinforced. Get on his level and tell him to come using his name. When he does, make a big deal using positive reinforcement. Then try it when he’s busy with something interesting. You’ll really see the benefits of perfecting this command early as he gets older.
Clicker training will help your puppy respond to your words. Dog Care Education City / State Holiday Movie Quiz: Calling All Movie Buffs!
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