icing on top

wooyoung x reader

synopsis: Wooyoung got very bored when you were decorating cupcakes for an upcoming birthday party and decided to start a little war which, of course, escalated. As punishment, he will have to be a good boy and do as you say, no matter how challenging it might be.

word count: 1.6k

genre/contains: food play, sub!wooyoung, gn!reader (nothing specific mentioned), bottom!reader, ruined orgasm/edging, oral sex, unprotected sex (bad idea, don’t do it)

rating: 18+

a/n: I really like cupcakes... also it's my birthday next week so let's say it's for my birthday! This has not been proofed so my apologies for any mistakes

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There were only about ten cupcakes left to decorate, your entire weekend had been spent in the kitchen making hundreds of cupcakes complete with pink frosting and sparkly sprinkles. Wooyoung had been a great helper, cleaning up as you made a mess on the counters. Now you had the finish line within sight and you noticed Wooyoung checking in on your progress more often. 

He was getting bored, an entire weekend had gone by and your attention had been spent on everything but him. 

Of course, getting them done was important since the birthday party was in just a few days. Rationally he knew that, but rationality wasn’t very important when you want attention from the one you love. He had been sighing for about five cupcakes already when you tried to get him to shut up and let you concentrate. Sighing was not the way to get your attention, he noted. Complaining or disturbing you would probably have the same effect he reasoned. 

Instead, he would have to resort to violence. You were on your last cupcake now and busy concentrating on putting the finishing touches on the decorations. Swiftly Wooyoung dipped a finger into the leftover frosting beside you and waited patiently for his sign to pounce. 

“Done!” you said and sighed in relief. Not a moment later Wooyoung attacked, smearing the pink frosting on your cheek. 

You gasped and turned to him with playful anger in your eyes as you realized what he had done. There was nothing you could do about it now, you would have to retaliate.

It wasn’t long until you were both out of breath and streaks of frosting adorned the front of Wooyoung’s bangs as well as his nose. From that point, it just escalated until you were running around in your apartment half screaming and giggling with sprinkles being thrown and frosting being smeared in each other’s faces as soon as you came close enough to each other.  

You were both beginning to tire of running and you decided it was time to start using your words instead. 

“When I catch you you’re going to regret this.”

“Oh really? I’d like to see that,” he said with an evil smile. You launched at him again and were surprised when he didn’t slip away from your grasp, instead, he waited for you to catch him with mischief in his eyes. 

“Gonna make me regret what I did now?” 

The way he wiggled his eyebrows was infuriating, cute, but infuriating. You had played right into his trap by promising retaliation (punishment) and now you had to keep your word. Backing out now would mean he would never again take your threats seriously and that would be so much worse than him getting what he wanted this once. 

“Yes I will,” you said and pulled him in for a heated kiss, gaining entrance to his tongue without any effort whatsoever. His hands traveled all over your body that pressed against his, making him catch on to where this was going sooner than you had expected and making his cock harden as you kissed his sensitive neck. 

“Take it out, now.” You ordered as you felt his erection growing through his pants. You only had to pump him a couple of times before you felt him thrust against your hand. With one last passionate kiss, you got down on your knees and began licking down the length of his cock. 

He was already pulsating in your hand at this point, but you wanted him to shiver under your touch before you would let him rest. With the hand not currently on his cock you scooped some frosting from one of the half-finished cupcakes on the counter with your finger. Wooyoung’s attention was now on you and your frosted finger which was closing in on his erect cock. 

“Wait, you’re not gonna- ah!” He moaned out as the cold cream touched the skin of his balls. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” you said with a sly smirk before you licked the rest of the frosting from your finger before you let your tongue take a broad swipe at his heavy balls. 

The sweetness filled your mouth and you continued to lick and suck until you noticed his cock leaking precum on your hand which was still rubbing the tip of Wooyoung’s erection. He was a whining mess, both overstimulated and still in need of something - anything - more that would send him off the edge and give him his orgasm. 

He was close and you could feel it in the way his hips were rutting into your fist even as you squeezed him tighter as you took more of his balls into your mouth. You looked up at his desperate expression, he was pleading with his eyes and probably would have been begging you with words if he wasn’t a moaning mess that could rival most pornstars. 

Just when the throbbing of his cock was reaching its climax you pulled away your hand and your mouth from his body. Gaining a whiny exasperation from the man who you had just robbed of his orgasm. He was twitching in front of your face but he knew he couldn’t cum now, this was his punishment and he would take it. It didn’t matter if he wanted to grab your face and let your pretty mouth be the final stimulation he needed, because the eminent pleasure that was bordering on pain right now would remind him of what you could do to him if he acted up as he had. 

“No, please, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” he pleaded, his leaking cock still twitching uncontrollably as you got up from your knees to standing face-to-face with Wooyoung. You gave him a fleeting kiss on his trembling lips before you flashed him a smile and wiped your lips from the saliva that you had been coating his cock and balls in. “Please let me cum, please,” he whined.

“Maybe, if you keep begging I’ll consider letting you come inside of me as well. But only if you can be a good boy and not cum until I have. Can you do that for me?” 

You knew that was an impossible request, he was too close to his climax for him to last that long inside of you. His cumming without permission was yet another excuse for you to continue playing with him though, so it was worth a shot, you thought. 

“I’ll be so good for you, please let me fuck you.”

“We’ll see,” you said and began undressing. 

You were leaking yourself and knew that even though you hadn’t been prepped the stretch would be bearable, pleasurable even with how turned on you had become from having him in your possession while you jerked him off. 

You were soon bent over the counter, his cock lined up to your entrance and with a “Go ahead baby,” he soon pushed his throbbing length inside of your heat. 

The stretch was as you had expected; both manageable and delicious. You could feel him impatiently hovering behind you, waiting for the slightest signal from you to start thrusting. You were both pulsating and you knew he would come undone within minutes. It was what you had expected, but when you nodded for Wooyoung to start moving, he immediately hit just the right spot. The tip of his cock made you see actual stars as he kept an animalistic pace, thrusting into you like this was his last chance of fucking you in his life. You would need to rile him up like this more often, you briefly thought before his thrusts had your orgasm approaching in record time. This was bad you realized, he would have you cumming before him if he continued at this pace, meaning he would have been just as good as he had promised. Changing the outcome was impossible now though, because just as you were about to make sure you couldn’t come first your orgasm washed over you. You were screaming out a moan as you clamped down on Wooyoung while he continued to thrust his final thrusts. He came inside of you with a loud groan as you panted, the cold of the kitchen counter helping you stay grounded as you came down from your high. 

 “My goodness,” you said breathlessly, “You did so good.”

Wooyoung was pulling out of you and grabbing a clean towel from a cabinet to clean the both of you up without a word from you. “I didn’t think I would make it, you were so tight I thought I would cum as soon as I put it in,” Wooyoung admitted with a chuckle. “So did I, I was planning on it,” you admitted in a similar manner as you pulled yourself up from the counter. 

“The frosting was such an evil move you know.” 

You giggled, “Genius right, it was very tasty too!” 

Wooyoung was done wiping both of you down and found himself embracing you from behind as you looked over the mess you had created in the kitchen. “I’m gonna need to wash my hands before I finish these, and we’re absolutely not letting people eat that one,” you said and gestured toward the cupcake you had ruined with your finger earlier. 

Wooyoung hummed and kissed your neck and shoulders as his hands rubbed up and down your sides in a gentle manner. “And when we’re done?” He mumbled. 

“And when we’re done we can do something a bit more… fun,” you reassured him and leaned into his body. 

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Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

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It’s craaaazy how much slack that man got from the fan base generally when all the signs pointed to him being a piece of shit. Shakira was honest to god the only calming/responsible influence on him whatsoever, at least in terms of how he behaved publicly. Even then he would say and do bullshit things, especially on social media. I thought many times over the years “Why doesn’t she just take his phone away?” Particularly right after his team would lose and he was most likely to doing something stupid. I can just imagine how much things he did pissed her off all the time, considering how low key she is and how grasping for attention he always is. He would have a much more positive reputation even now if he had simply kept his mouth shut more often over the past decade.

Yeah I have to say, that even for those of us that liked the guy and defended him constantly, there were always these random things that were off putting when thinking about both of their personalities. I've forgotten a lot of the social media drama, some of it was taken out of context or exaggerated by the media but the fact that he would even engage in some of the petty drama, was annoying. Not to mention other things he used to do that made it hard to defend him(but some of us still did 🤡). For example, there were many instances throughout the years where PK was reportedly a total dick to people who would go up to him asking for a picture in public places. And as much as I can rationalize that all celebrities have their moments and that at given times, they need to be very protective of their privacy and time, PK just came off as somebody who was totally insensitive and lacked so much empathy towards the public. Which is the complete opposite of what Shakira has shown towards her public. She's always so graceful and respectful towards others. And even if she's not able to attend to everybody, she's never been known to treat people like they're beneath her, which is what her ex did. I still cringe when I remember he pulled the "do you know who I am" card once to the local police because they gave him a ticket💀. Or when he would drive off in a fury when he didn't want to be photographed. One time in particular, when Shakira was pregnant with Milan, I remember a few paps in Bcn criticizing him (rightfully so) for speeding off with a pregnant Shakira inside the car with him just because the paparazzi's were trying to photograph them. All of those incidents really made it hard to defend him throughout the years because even though we (or at least I did) tried to brush it off, it was truly a testament to his character and completely contradicted a lot of what Shakira had displayed throughout her whole career. Shakira is the epitome of professionalism, respect, and maturity. There's no way she would ever drive off in a frenzy and endanger herself and others just because there's a couple of photographers following her. His actions were always so immature and representative of a privileged white boy, throwing tantrums when he didn't have complete liberty. His constant clubbing outings, the times where he was reportedly drunk during a night out when he was in a team concentration, were also very telling. Many Spanish people would say that the only thing PK got right was getting with Shakira. I genuinely think now, that being in an official relationship with her for so long, kept him from being perceived as a total moron outside of the sport. I mean, this is him:

He's physically 36, but his cognitive age isn't higher than that of a 12 year old. Picking fights with a paparazzi and making fun of his confessed drug addiction problem😳.

(I'll say it now, knowing that I defended this moron with my whole being for so long and throughout so many incidents, keeps me humble 🙈🤦🏽‍♀️)

Condescending Bitch

Pairing: Thomas Raggi x reader

Wc: 2.5k

Cw(s): swearing, kissing, crying, probably typos (as per usual, tell me if it sucks)

Summary: Reader breaks up with their boyfriend and Thomas consoles them.

Masterlist

If honesty be a virtue, you'd be virtuous to plainly say you'd fallen out of love with your boyfriend and you had done so a while ago. It wasn't deliberate, it was a gradual fizz wherein you found your heart warming for someone else. You felt horrible about it and that guilt had been eating at you. There was no cheating, but you didn't think you'd be able to avoid it for much longer. Not to mention, it wasn't only the non-existent feelings, Luca was just an asshole when you weren't blinded by love.

There comes a time where one must throw in the towel, and now was that time for you.

You couldn't do it at a restaurant; knowing Luca, he'd cause a scene. You couldn't do it at some meeting place; it would ruin that place forever and ever to both of you. And that shit's just not fair.

In the end, you couldn't make the decision. So you put every single item of Luca's clothing in a bag (and a couple things he'd left around your flat), and drove over to his house while you still had the nerve. You'd gathered and lost the nerve a couple times before, but the plan was already in motion now. Hell, there was no plan, but whatever you were raring to do was up and running.

You drove straight to Luca's mother's house in record time. Time flies when you're laser focused.

"Y/n!" Luca's mother exclaimed joyfully as you entered the kind looking house. How someone like Luca came out of Mrs. Batali was a wonder in and of itself. Once Mrs. Batali spotted the bag in your hand, she frowned. "Has something happened, Bambino?"

Somehow, the hardest part of this breakup would be bidding goodbye to Luca's mother, and not Luca himself. You sighed, "I'm sorry, Signora. Luca and I have been having issues for a while now."

"Oh, don't be sorry, Bambino." The older lady's kind smile returned to her face, which struck a heart string you hadn't even known existed. Mrs. Batali swayed toward you, in all of her vanilla scented goodness. She hugged you around your neck loosely, which you returned around her wide hips. "You're always welcome for dinner and a roof. Don't let the stupid boy stop you from seeing me."

God gave two gifts to this world; one of them was Mrs. Batali.

A smile cracked across your face as your chest continued to tighten and hurt. You loved this family like your own, and you loved Luca at some point. So many memories were made in the throws of this relationship, and it was all going to be thrown out the window by you. But it was too late now.

"Ti amo." Mrs. Batali placed a kiss to your forehead which made your smile even more genuine. She patted your shoulder, finally releasing you from her motherly grasp. Sadly, she raised her arm to the stairs to Luca's bedroom. "I'll be down here, if you need me."

You smiled once more to the older lady and bowed your head in silent thanks. If you uttered a word, the word would lead to tears. It seemed the two of you knew this.

It was the last thing you wanted to do right now, but you had to seal the deal.

Without your consent, your feet began moving toward the stairs then up the stairs. Your heart beat in sickening rhythm with your footsteps, but your heart seemed more heavy than your feet. It was ridiculous. You were ready to throw up, pee, or meltdown - you didn't know which one, if it was one at all.

At long last, after walking down the longest hallway of your life, you stood in front of Luca's closed door. You remembered all the times you'd breeze in, going straight into Luca's arms for a kiss. His breath wasn't always good and he was a bad kisser, but he made you feel infatuation. Now it only seemed a fraction of what you felt for the other person. Yes, God, that was why you had to do this.

You knocked. Your heart was deafening.

"Come in!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You pushed open the door, feeling like you were having a heart attack. Luca smiled brightly at you from the light of his computer. Then he laid eyes on the bag. Don't know how, it was dark as fuck in the room. And smelt of cheap body spray and dirty clothes.

"Hey, Babe, I wasn't expecting you," Luca smiled, trying to act off the bag of his clothes and gifts in your hand. You flicked on the light as he stood up to close the door behind you.

This room is fucking disgusting. It was truly noxious.

"Alright, Luca, sit down, we've got to talk," you told him, putting on your bravest and thickest voice. It worked because the air in the room changed. The air grew thick and impossible to breath. It could've been cut with a knife. Luca sat on his bed, hands in his lap. You placed the bag on the ground and sighed, "We're breaking up."

For a second, he was unresponsive. Luca didn't say a word until he looked you in the eye, what felt like a full minute later. His bottom lip quivered. "You're dumping me?"

"You can tell people you dumped me, I don't mind," you quipped, trying to make the situation better. You did not, in fact, make the situation better. You potentially made it about thirteen times worse.

"No, you're not." Luca stood up again. Your breath caught in your throat. "We're not breaking up."

He took a few quick steps to you. You stood your ground, trying to be as brave as possible. Your mask was slipping. The last thing you wanted right now was for Luca to see that you were cracking under his gaze. That would be fucking horrendous.

All of a sudden, Luca barked out a laugh. He looked like a madman. "This is about that Thomas bitch, isn't it?" You didn't answer, and your facial expressions gave nothing away. Then Luca snapped, "Isn't it?!"

"If you want to fucking shout, we can shout," you seethed. Luca blinked angrily at you. "We're adults - act like it."

"You're a condescending bitch."

"And you're an ugly prick, but I've never complained about that. You've called me a condescending bitch about 3 times and a flat-out bitch more than a dozen," you recalled quickly, with venom dripping off each syllable. It shut Luca up. However, he began to cry. You felt nothing but hatred now. "You're one pathetic bitch to be crying over the girl who you treat like a fucking doormat." Luca only cried harder. No sympathy. You spun on your heel and opened the door.

Without a glance back, you left.

Mrs. Batali smiled at you on your way out and gave you a freshly baked bun, which you thanked her profusely for.

It didn't take long for reality to set in, however. The adrenaline faded as you drove back to your flat complex. You began crying at the wheel and completely broke down in the car park. Tears streamed down your face like rivers, snot clogged your nose. Your mouth tasted horrible so you started to eat the bun Mrs. Batali had baked. It was so good that you started crying harder.

How the fuck could you do that? At this point, you were too sad to give a fuck about sobbing in a car park at 6 in the evening. You just threw in the towel of a year long relationship, in the blink of an eye. Like it was nothing and meant nothing to you whatsoever, which wasn't true at all. You felt like a horrible person.

Your chest clogged up with emotions and stale air, your throat grew a lump that you couldn't swallow down. Now you were the pathetic one. Crying in a shitbox car over your ex while eating fucking bread.

A tap on the window scared the Jesus out of you.

When you looked at the source, the other person was looking right back at you, looking worried and confused. Leave it to Thomas to look sad just because you were sad. Thomas looked so fucking good even though a blur of teary eyelashes. He made the hand crank motion, so you rolled down your window.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked. You just started laughing. What a stupid fucking question. Thomas began chuckling, realizing how stupid it was himself. "Fair enough. Fancy a cup of tea and a chat or shall I leave you to your car bread?"

How the fuck could he make you laugh in times like these?

You smiled then shooed him away from your car door so you could open it. He obliged and moved back, for you to get out, still with bread and keys in hand. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows as you two began walking back to the flat complex you both lived in. "Aren't you going to roll up the window?"

"How the fuck is anyone meant to steal it when all the windows are up?" It was your turn to earn a laugh from Thomas. Thomas' laugh hit your ear like honey. The sort of honey that your mother gave you to cure your sore throat before nursery. It was soothing and just the right thing for the situation.

As you walked up the stairs with Thomas, you realized he was taking you to his flat. To be fair, he was the one who offered you tea. What's he going to do? Offer you your own tea?

Thomas unlocked the ugly blue door of his flat that everyone in the building had a copy of. The second you both walked into the flat, warmth enveloped you, along with sandalwood and spices from Thomas' extensive spice cabinet. He must have been cooking earlier because it smelt Heavenly. Everything was in perfect place with just the right amount of mess and disorganization to make it seem like a home.

"I'll put the kettle on, sit anywhere," Thomas instructed after you both took your shoes off. You were wearing ratty trainers while Thomas was wearing perfectly clean Vans.

You nodded and flung yourself on one of his couches with a sigh. The couch was soft, warm and welcoming and you felt tired from crying and yelling and just the day in general. It was a shit day, that started with your toast burning and ended with this shit. A nap would really do good.

However, Thomas had other plans entirely. He placed a purple mug, full of tea with what looked like your golden ratio of milk and sugar. Thomas was your best friend, of course he knew your golden ration. You knew his. With a smile, you sat up which allowed Thomas to sit beside you and drape his arm over the back of the couch.

"Feel like telling me why you were crying in your car?" Thomas asked. You laughed lightly and sipped the piping hot tea.

"Broke up with Luca about-" you checked a clock. "-30 minutes ago."

As horrible as it sounds, Thomas' face lit up. His facial features remained the same but his beautiful green eyes lit up like candles in a dark room. "Is that so?"

"He called me a condescending bitch."

"So he hasn't gotten a new script," Thomas smiled. You chuckled lightly and sniffed. Your nose was still clogged from all the crying. You just didn't feel like blowing your nose like an elephant in front of Thomas right now. "He'll never get the chance to get a new script for you now."

"Thank God above," you sighed out with a laugh to your words. Thomas smiled. "I'll miss his mum though. Wonderful lady."

Thomas sipped his own tea and you discretely moved closer to him. It wasn't as discrete as you'd thought because Thomas picked up and moved a bit closer to you with a stupid smile on his face. "So how'd it go down?"

Like friends do, you told him everything, down to the detail. All but Luca being right, with Thomas being the other man who'd stolen your heart. That wouldn't be a key detail here because the last thing you needed today was to dump your boyfriend then directly after scare your best friend away from you forever.

But he wasn't scared off by you telling him Luca though you were leaving him for Thomas. Thomas actually smirked at that part, like the thought amused him. You didn't think anything of it actually, except for how cute Thomas was when he was smirking.

Eventually, the conversation faded and you were hip to hip with Thomas. With a sigh, he rested your head in the crook of Thomas' neck. His feather soft hair tickled the side of your face but you wanted nothing else for the moment. The scent of Thomas' cologne was prominent when you were this close to him, but you weren't going to complain about that. His arm fell from the back of the couch to around your shoulders.

Feeling Thomas' head turn to you, you looked up at him. Thomas' hand lightly squeezed you arm. Your breath hitched in your throat as you thought you were imagining Thomas observing your face.

Those gorgeous green eyes that you could stare into all day were scanning your face gently. They landed on your lush lips, then back to your eyes. All it took was a small nod for Thomas to lean in.

It was slow. It was slow, but undeniably sweet. The passion was palpable the minute your lips met his, just as you had been dreaming of for months now. His pillow-like lips were perfectly moisturized, but not over-saturated. The lip balm he used was strawberry flavoured and you'd never admired strawberry flavoured lip balm as you were in this moment.

As suddenly as it began, it ended.

Thomas leaned back for a second, looking guilty. "You need time to get over Luca, this is wrong."

"I've been over Luca for months." You placed a kiss to his lips, which Thomas accepted for a second, then backed out of again. You groaned. "Thomas, Luca was right. I'm in love with you."

In a stunned silence, Thomas' cheeks turned bright red. A broad smile grew on his face and you felt confident in your confession. You meant it, surely, but now you were confident that you did the right thing in telling Thomas.

"I've been in love with you since we went to the Capitoline." Thomas' voice cracked as he made his confession. Your heart bustled with warmth. He'd been pining for you all this time just to watch you run with Luca.

You couldn't take your aching heart. Grabbing Thomas' face gently, you pressed your lips to his again. He gladly returned this kiss with fervour and renewed zeal. Nothing else mattered while your lips were joined with Thomas' lips. Nothing would ever be able to induce the utter happiness and peace you'd felt in this moment.

After the kiss lasting for a while, Thomas pulled you to sit on his lap. He cupped your sweet face gently and smiled into your brilliant eyes. He kissed your nose. "May I tell you something else, Y/n?"

"Anything."

"I don't think you're a condescending bitch."

Hello, dear 💛 firstly, I am congratulating you for your blog, you’re doing an amazing stuff and I’d very delighted to support ya’ 💕 so here’s mine; what about a hitman/assassin yandere who is very infamous in underworld for his reputation finally finding his darling, what would be his first encounter and the after? A little bit smutty maybe? It’s up to you, 🌹

Aww, thank you so much for the support and for the idea. I hope that you will like how it turned out. It isn’t as filthy as I wish it was, but oh well, there is always a next time lol

 Title: Stone cold 

 Tw: female reader, obssessive behavior, non-con, dub-con, veery slight knife play, slight dirty talk 

   You should have known that something was up the very moment someone knocked on your door on a Friday night – it was unusual. Especially when you take into an account the weird accidents that had been happening the last three months. People in the neighborhood went missing one by one, some of your personal items like clothes, lipsticks and even toothbrushes were stolen and you always felt a pair of eyes burning a hole through your back. But still, you didn’t want to freak yourself out and tried to stay positive, reasonable. If someone wanted to take you out, they would have already done it, right?

 While mentally encouraging yourself, you slowly got closer to the black door. By now the knocking had stopped, but you could hear the soft breathing of your visitor outside of the apartment. In a way you really wanted to stop for a second and rationalize why this unknown person was breathing so damn loud, but decided against it – what good would it do anyways? With that in mind you finally reached out to unlock the door and slowly opened it to reveal a man, covered from head to toes in black. The darkness of the corridor had swallowed  all of his recognizable features and you could only make out his eyes, while his mouth and nose were hidden away by a ski mask. And if this wasn’t alarming enough, the bulge in his right pocket looked suspiciously close to the shape of a gun.

“Caught you.” The intruder hummed, looking more than pleased with himself, and his eyes sparkled with a wild emotion you didn’t know the name of. Your body was paralyzed at the sight of the weapon and you were starting to regret moving into such a dangerous area where no trace of a police involvement could be found. Not that you would have the time to call them anyways since the next moment the man had managed to push you  to the floor with a loud „boom”, pinning your body down with his own. You finally gained the courage to scream your heart out, but your terrified cries were quickly muffled by the gloved hand, covering your mouth.

 “You scream one more time and I will drill a fucking hole into your pretty little head.” The man whispered into your ear in a dark, eerie voice. “Right here.” He gently touched your forehead in a clear warning. You broke out into a cold sweat, but remained motionless, immobile. “Do you understand me?” The hitman asked huskily and pressed his elbow into your shrinking stomach. You nodded quickly, your heart now racing so fact you could almost feel the abrupt beats against your skin. You had made a grave mistake opening the door, but it was too late now.

 “Good.” The stranger smirked like a wolf, ready to tear apart the innocent lifeless lamb in front of him. He finally raised his hand away from your mouth. As if to prove your darkest fears and theories, the man suddenly took a sharp shiny knife out of his left pocket and slowly ran it trough your exposed collarbone. He only let the very end touch your skin but its coldness, combined with the adrenaline rushing into your veins, were enough to send you over the edge with fear. “Don’t panic. I have already decided to keep you for myself, so as long as you behave, I have no reason to hurt you. ” The man finally uttered after watching you squirm helplessly for a while, the stupid teasing smile never leaving his lips. He took off his mask and dropped the knife on the ground, just a few inches away from your carotid artery, and fiddled with the first button of your thin shirt. This mere action of his made shivers run down your spine and you couldn’t help, but shut your eyes tight, just for a moment, just to put yourself together.

 “Why are you doing this?” You whimpered, cringing at the way your voice broke into a sob right at the end. You never thought that you would be violated on the cold, hard floor by an unhinged psychopath, but fate always finds a way to screw with us, they say.

 “Do you know who I am, princess?” The man asked with a smug, arrogant expression on his face. You shook your head in response. In an alternative universe you might have thought that the intruder was quite handsome – broad shoulders, dark green eyes, a well defined jaw line and a strong muscular body. But in the current situation the only word you could use to describe the dangerous fellow was insane. He had shamelessly attacked you in your own home, your supposed safe heaven, and showed no remorse whatsoever. “You might not know me, but I know you.” The man continued. “I used to work with your father. ” His gaze was now fixed on you. “I doubt that daddy dearest has ever shared with you what he does for a living, but tell you, it isn’t pretty.” The trespasser lowered his head to bite at the soft skin of your neck, making the hairs on your neck bristle due to the unexpected contact with his teeth and because of that you couldn’t even register the hurtful words he was spitting about your father. You didn’t want to believe him anyways. “But he made a mistake.” The man added, still licking your sensitive skin. “The bastard messed with the wrong people. Stole money from my boss too. Lots and lots of it.”

 “T-that can’t be true.” You moaned in discomfort against your better judgment and tried to kick at his joints out of impulse. But of course, he quickly grabbed your leg before any damage was done and pinned it back to the floor.

 “Oh, but it is, princess. And that’s where I come into the picture.” The man purred contentedly, his attention on you once again. “I am quite infamous in the underworld, ya see. ” He stopped to make air quotes with his fingers. “ My name is Edgar, I am an assassin. I would kill anyone and everyone for the right price. ” For a second the murderer stared at intensely. You could swear that his eyes turned red in a spar of moments and in them you saw a mixture of bloodlust and a desire for flesh. “So when  they asked me to hunt you down in order to mess with your dad, I obviously agreed. It started off as a way to make an easy buck, but the more I followed you around and collected private information, the more I postponed killing you.” The man sighed, seemingly frustrated with himself. “At first I thought that I wanted to plan out your disposal well ahead of time and that’s why I was wasting so much time, but soon enough I realized I was interested in you.” He smiled softly this time as if he was recalling a pleasant memory, involving you. “You were so sweet, so… normal. I wanted you.”  The assassin admitted at last and took a deep breath. His little confession had made you vivid, frantic with worry, and suddenly you were a living, breathing creature again. You scratched at the back of his neck and summoned all of your strength left to get your hand out of his grasp. You tried to punch him right in the face, but your attempts were fruitless as he easily overpowered you. Before you could strike again the ruthless killer picked up his knife from next to you and put the blade under your chin. His eyes sparkled with childlike excitement.

 “There is no point in fighting me. Everyone already thinks you’re dead, I made sure of it.” The man moved the edge down, stopping at your cleavage. He licked his lips suggestively and the alarms in your mind went crazy all over again. “Your life belongs to me – your body and your heart too. I will take you right here and there is nothing you can do to stop me.” Edgar laughed cruelly as he cut the fabric of your blouse, revealing your chest, hidden by your plain bra. With one swift move the string holding it together was ripped apart and your upper body was fully exposed to the hungry eyes of the stranger. He cupped your breasts with his palms and massaged them gently, twisting your erect nipples lightly with his fingers. You wanted to numb the unfortunately pleasurable feeling but it wasn’t going away as the intruder kept on teasing the swollen tips.

 “S-stop!” You protested, shaking your shoulders violently. Everything was starting to feel too real and you couldn’t let the savage man take away from you something so intimate and personal. In the end he paid no mind to your continuous struggles and selfishly did as he wished.  Soon enough his hand traveled down your thighs, to your crotch. Edgar slid his wrist beside the elastic waistband of your panties and wasted no time, starting to rub the sweet spot between your legs. You held back a moan, as the embarrassment washed over you.

 “Don’t hold your voice back, princess.” The assassin growled in your ear, pressing harder on your sensitive bud. You couldn’t help, but cry out due to the intense pleasure you were receiving. “Yeah, just like that, let me hear you.” The man kept fingering you, while you arched your back, and eventually you felt yourself getting damp down there. The killer chuckled, satisfied with your cute reaction and the way you were squirming around his forefinger.

 “You act like you hate all of this, but your pussy is so wet, baby.” He suddenly drew his fingers in and out of your entrance, making a lewd pop of splashing juices just to get his point across. “You might turn out to be a little slut after all, huh.” Edgar whispered in your ear and licked the trace of salty tears down your scarlet cheeks. Your face felt red and hot, your eyes were still shut tight. The way his touch made you feel was so invasive, yet ecstatic none the less

 After the man had stretched you properly, he was ready to claim his prize. The assassin had spent so much time stalking you, following you, desiring you and now he finally had you in his arms, exposed and split open for him alone. Moving down to leave wet kisses and love bites along your shoulders and collarbone, the intruder lowered himself onto your tight, sloppy hole and you felt his hard erect member rubbing onto your tight entrance. A new powerful wave of hot, choking tears fell down your cheeks as you shook your head violently.

 “Please, I am begging you, don’t do it!” You whimpered, defeated and light-headed from the fear, arousal and adrenaline, pumping in your veins. Edgar ignored your pathetic pleas and instead decided to shut you up by gently pressing his lips against yours, moaning into his little seal of love. He pushed his big throbbing cock into your heat ruthlessly, unable to wait any longer, simply using your wetness as a lube. The murderer started thrusting into you in a steady, harsh rhythm, without giving you the time to adjust to his inhuman length. In just a few minutes your mind had stopped worked and you were reduced to a mumbling mess of tiny moans and mewls.

 “S-shit, you feel so good, princess. So fucking tight.” The man exclaimed, breathing heavily and quickly moving his hips back and forth along the way. One particular move of his send you very close to the edge and your walls clenched down on his dick, which didn’t go unnoticed. “Did I hit your sweet spot?” The man smirked, running a hand trough his sweaty dark hair. The other one went straight to your nipples, twisting and rolling them once again. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying out in unwanted, but intense pleasure. “Wanna cum, baby?” Edgar teased, as he touched every part of you  – your breasts, your belly and your soft thighs. “Wanna squirt all over my cock?” The criminal kept taunting you, driving you crazy little by little. “Do it. Cum for me, princess.” Soon enough your sensitive, over stimulated body convulsed as the powerful hot orgasm washed over you. You felt dizzy, tired and lost. Unfortunately, the crazed man wasn’t finished yet – he kept thrusting and thrusting, until he finally released into your very core.

 Once his breathing calmed down, the intruder pecked your cheek tenderly, pulling you in his lap. It went better than he had imagined it would.

 “You did so well, princess. So good for me.” Edgar stroked your hair lightly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But you couldn’t make half of his words as exhaustion and shame overtook your tired mind, the voice in your head screaming louder than the man’s love affirmations. But maybe it was better that way – anything else would be too painful after everything that had happened. “You are mine now.” The killer spoke after a while, before hugging you even tighter. Soon enough you would realize there wasn’t an easy way out of his warm, deathly embrace.

Miraculous is playing one big game of Calvinball with its magic/power system and it undermines the show quite a bit

TL;DR: Miraculous has, at first glance, a very basic power/magic system… Only whenever it tries to get more complicated than “Moon Prism Power, Make up!” it ends up being an unspeakable mess, due to poor creative decisions that don’t allow for the audience to truly understand what is going on and why, outside of “whatever the plot requires so that we can get to the next scene”. 

It may well be because the people making this show wanted to shift their attention to kwamis and their powers in the future seasons, but holding onto that for seventy-something episodes has done the show a disservice.

Longg isn’t the kwami of Perfection. Longg is the kwami of being a cool dragon. And sometimes, being a cool dragon is enough, you know? Instead of doing complex things poorly, you can tackle simple concepts really well and people won’t think any less of your creation, au contraire.

Throughout the history of the superhero genre, a pretty nifty thing most creators have understood is that you need to explain a bit of how and why the hero’s powers work. Superman is superpowered because it’s all a matter of gravity, a fact underlined in the very first issue of Action Comics, in the very first page of Superman ever. The X-Men are mutants. Sherlock Holmes was bitten by a radioactive detective.

Basically, what happens in most cases is, the creators come up with a set of rules to sort of explain the storyworld so that you know to manage your expectations, so that the storyworld feels more cohesive too. That’s what I call a neat way to allow your audience to suspend their disbelief and feel more involved in the story being told! Things happen and are allowed to happen a certain way for a reason in-universe, there is a kind of logic proper to the work of fiction being built that makes it easier for the audience to fully get into said work.

In Hunter X Hunter, Nen is a pretty cool concept that is well-defined, we see what it is at first with no explanations, and it’s hella intriguing, which makes you want to know more (and that’s deliberate) and then the manga explains it to you a few chapters later and for the most part, Togashi sticks to that definition. And now we understand what is going on and how. Cool, right?

What do we have here? Creative decisions that are often given justifications in-universe to make them more believable in the context of the story being told, even though they are ultimately arbitrary decisions which can be challenged (see how Superman’s powers changed over time, for instance). You can toy with these explanations and that makes for great comedic potential, just look at One Punch Man!

Magic can be a little murkier for sure, because magic doesn’t necessarily follow rational logic. I won’t be getting into the soft/hard magic talk here. Still, if you want your audience to understand what is going on and if you’re not a complete hack (looking at you Joanne Kathleen), you tend to set up some rules so that the audience can grasp what the hell is going on, understand why something is really impressive or really basic. Is it really such a big deal that a character is able to master that one spell? Why? Ursula Le Guin and Brandon Sanderson are really good at that, and manage a good balance of mystery and understandability.

Miraculous fumbles the bag pretty hard when it comes to how its magic/power system works. Which, after 70-something episodes, is not great. 

Part of it is due to the exposition style Miraculous has chosen for itself, which could be great but ultimately isn’t, and part of it is due to poor definition in the first place.

Miraculous hates exposition dumps most of the time, and I think it’s actually a good thing. No one wants to feel as though they’re sitting through a boring class instead of having fun. Well done, guys! Exposition dumps often make you all the more aware of the artificiality of a story. And so, Miraculous mostly relies on context cues as a means of introducing you to the world. They just show you the thing and trust you to understand and interpret it properly. And sometimes, it works really well!

I still sincerely believe that Stormy Weather is a fantastic first episode, and it does its job amazingly well. In 24 minutes, you learn the very basic outlines of how stuff works, relationships between the characters and superpowers. Yes, it’s very basic, but that’s fine, you can’t drop all that new information on your audience all at once. We understand that the power within the Miraculous, that of the kwami, allows for its wearer to transform. This comes with nifty perks, heightened agility, reflexes, amazing strength, magical accessories, and special quirks unique to each of the Miraculouses.

Are we good so far? See, if we stuck to that, it’d be fine. Not mind-blowing but pretty okay still. Doesn’t have to be too complicated to be enjoyable, just look at Sailor Moon!

And then Miraculous tried to spice things up and communicated its ideas so poorly that the arbitrary decisions taken by the writers are glaring, and seriously affect the audience’s suspension of disbelief and enjoyment. 

The kwamis aren’t just cutesy mascots, they’re gods. And yet their powers are very limited. Why? Well, the show doesn’t really bring that question up, we can only try and infer things. Now, what are these limitations, and why do they exist in the first place? I’ve got a vague answer to the first question (a time limit for transformation once the special power is being used).

The answer to that second question is very unsatisfactory, and that’s the only one I’ve got: “because the plot requires it if we want to do such and such thing”. Which is an answer that applies to absolutely all creative decisions in fiction, yes, but there’s usually more to it as well, in competently-made shows at least, it’s not so transparent. Why is Marinette able to wield so many Miraculouses at once? Well, it’d look cool and it’d make her look powerful, so why not! But Adrien can’t. Why? He just can’t. No explanations whatsoever. Just because. It’s magic. Shut up and watch the show.

Well, that’s not entirely true. We’ve got fleeting remarks about being able to unlock kwami powers and maintaining a transformation for longer and whatnot. The problem is, they’re just that, fleeting remarks, and worse, they are so scattered across the show it’s really easy to forget about them in-between episodes, especially since the release schedule is absolute nonsense (it isn’t the creators’ fault, but it certainly has an impact on the way the audience engages with the show). So no, the show isn’t going down the “just roll with it” route, not entirely… And that makes the lack of proper explanation that much worse.

It feels as through the few rules there are in Miraculous are being made up on the fly and… Heh. That’s just not great.

It doesn’t help that the powers themselves are… Really something, huh?

Chat Noir’s power is the only one that really fits with what his kwami is meant to represent. Destruction. Easy to represent, right?

Creation is trickier, that requires being imaginative, and Miraculous isn’t terribly imaginative when it comes to its lucky charms. Hey kids, did you know that you could use a ladder to stop an ice-skater? How creative! I mean you could also use salt to melt the ice, or a baseball bat to smash his kneecaps, then… The point is, being convoluted isn’t the same thing as being creative, and while Chat Noir gets to decide what he destroys, Ladybug gets an item thrown at her and you better believe she’ll find an use to it… How is that creation exactly? Is the lucky charm popping out of thin air creation? That’s a bit underwhelming, isn’t it?

Tikki represents convolution, Nooroo is the power of creating minor antagonists…

I had to check the Wiki to remember what concepts the other kwamis are meant to represent. There’s a disconnect between that and the way powers are represented on-screen. Pollen isn’t the kwami of Subjection. Pollen is the kwami of stabbing people with a stinger. How do I know that? I watched the show and nothing else.

If you want your audience to not be confused, if you don’t want your story to feel completely arbitrary to your audience (though it’ll always be just that), maybe take the time to explain things that are crucial for the understanding of the storyworld’s inner workings. You don’t have to give everything away in the first ten episodes, not at all, but you should explain them at some point, take the time to do so if these are more complex concepts that are crucial to your show. And if they aren’t key to your show, you don’t have to include them, and I promise no-one will notice.

chapter ten

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): topic of unbalanced-relationship dynamic is brought up, but it’s not,,,,.,. ,real? ik that doesn’t make a lot of sense lol im sorry; yoongi is a sweetie but this time getting flustered

Word count: 5439

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

You awaken from the sound of loud greetings in the distance. As your eyes crack open from the muted light that slips between the sheer curtains, you squeeze tighter onto the pillow that ended up in your arms sometime throughout the evening. The voice continues to blare from the otherside of the apartment, but now it’s laughing contently, doing nothing to help your head stir more conscious. You simply lie there under the cocoon of blankets, thinking nothing other than the fact that you were thirsty.

When you finally sit upright, the pillow remains in your grasp. A tiny grumble escapes your lips at the discomfort of trying to wiggle your legs free of the blankets when they were dressed in jeans you had been wearing the previous day. It’s then that you catch a glance at the clock on the nightstand, and you’re able to fully wake up as you note it reading a time close to noon.

You groan at yourself for not remembering to set an alarm, and then you recall leaving your phone in the other room anyways. Another disgruntled curse dribbles out for the forgetfulness, hoping that Yoongi didn’t have other things planned today that you’ve now made him late for. You’re out the bedroom door in seconds, peeking down the hall as though there is a need to be hidden. The voice from before registers in your eardrums sounding familiar and bright, and you finally take into account that there is indeed a guest of Yoongi’s here that you’re about to have to interrupt.

But your eyes find Yoongi’s person way down the hall as he exits from the kitchen area. His head turns towards you, seemingly startled for a moment when he realizes you’re there and your hand barely waves in return as a greeting.

“You don’t have to hide back there, you know? It’s just Hoseok.” He says gesturing you over with his hand as he then takes a sip of water from a glass.

“I’m not a ‘just’, how dare you.” Hoseok speaks with an appalled tone as you stalk into the room meekly, finding him sitting on the corner of the couch you’d been in the night before. “Ah, hello again.”

“Hi,” You nod your head, feeling embarrassed that you’re still so dazed from sleeping for such a long time, and then you also take into account your appearance likely looking quite unflattering. You bite your lip. “Sorry, I’m interrupting.”

“You’re not at all, he just showed up without saying anything.” Yoongi cuts in as he turns to go back into the kitchen. “Typed in the code on his own and everything. I thought we were going to get killed.”

“He’s dramatic.” Hoseok smiles towards you after rolling his eyes at Yoongi’s sarcastic statements. You nod softly, a tiny polite smile matching it. Your throat feels so dehydrated. “Didn’t realize his girlfriend would be here too, or I would’ve called.” He turns his attention to his phone all the sudden, likely receiving a text. As the title comes into your mind, your head starts to arrange replies suitable for a girlfriend, or to further the charade along in general. Though the implications of being at Yoongi’s apartment in the morning-- in his clothing nonetheless make you stay quiet. Your voice would surely sound awkward.

“He’s just teasing you.” Yoongi says as he walks towards you from the kitchen, another glass of water in hand. “He knows you’re not my actual girlfriend.”

Your shoulders relax at Yoongi’s words, having unknowingly been made a little on edge to have to continue the act so quickly after waking up. Receiving the glass, you greedily lap it up, relief flooding your throat as you try and recall when the day before you had the last drink of water. “Good. I couldn’t think of anything to say.”

Yoongi smiles at your relieved candor and also the way that you practically inhaled the drink, then his head turns back to Hoseok who speaks up. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that; thought he told you that I knew.” You shake your head about to tell him that it’s not a big deal, until Hoseok beats you to a response. “I just came over to see what happened between him and my ex.”

“Drama seeker.” Yoongi teases, though he rubs the back of his head, smile looking contrastingly annoyed at his memory of the night before. The change in disposition makes your lips cast down in the smallest frowns, knowing that you should’ve pressed him more about it because of how much it seemed to bother Yoongi to run into Seulgi. If it weren’t for the onset of exhaustion that set in after all of the frustrated tears, you would have. “She wants me to do more for you. Help you with your comeback.”

You eyebrows furrow slightly. Considering how standoffish Seulgi was towards Yoongi, and how obviously she ignored Hoseok entirely, you find it odd that her demands of Yoongi are seemingly well-intended. Though as Hoseok groans on the couch, hand rubbing his face, you think there’s more depth in those sentences that their face value.

Yoongi’s hand toys with his hair still, averting eyes back to you as he suddenly appears to recall, “Oh, you don’t have plans today, do you? I can drive you back to your place, if you need to be somewhere.”

“Actually,” You start, somewhat hesitant despite Yoongi’s presence lacking anything distant or intimidating. Still, it could be rude to involve yourself with his affairs, but you want to help him if you’re able. “If it’s okay, I wanted to know what happened too.” You say with a small voice, before continuing a little louder, quicker, “But because I was worried about it-- Not just because I wanted to hear gossip, or something.”

“Okay,” Yoongi’s bits of chuckling make your chest rumble free of nervousness. Instead somehow giving you a secure feeling that expands as he nods. “That’s right, you were worried yesterday when it happened.” You nod sincerely, biting your lip as Yoongi’s lip curl to smile softly. “Seulgi doesn’t really like me much.” He says frankly while a nod of his gestures for you to sit in the armchair beside the couch.

“To put it lightly,” Hoseok grumbles with a bitter voice as Yoongi sits centrally on the couch with him, “But why she doesn’t like you is just to save her own face.” He says towards Yoongi then turns his head to you as he explains his point, “She blames Yoongi for why I got kicked out of my company, even though it was my fault-- but between Yoongi and her it’s definitely her fault though. Yoongi didn’t have anything to do with it.”

You notice Yoongi’s face avoid looking towards Hoseok as he speaks, instead constricting in little bits of confliction you believe. Evidently not completely agreeing with what Hoseok tells you, and the thought of it confuses you more, because you can’t rationalize Yoongi taking part in Hoseok’s removal. It’s clear the friendship between them is strong, no animosity whatsoever-- even when there could have sprouted envy from the scandal of the year prior. Hoseok isn’t suspicious of Yoongi in the slightest, or irritated that he’s still successful while Hoseok himself struggles to start over. So it’s a wonder of why Yoongi appears unsatisfied with how Hoseok relates him to the issue.

“Why would she blame Yoongi?” You don’t think anything wrong of your question until Yoongi also looks towards you, both his eyes and Hoseok reflecting shock that confuses you. Then the tone of your words play over in your head and you realize you spoke like you were offended, baffled. Defensive of Yoongi.

“Because,” Hoseok begins, voice still taken back slightly, though the hollow smile of his lips let you think he’s humored by you more than anything. “She doesn’t think he did enough to help me out of what happened when I got kicked out. Did you keep up with it at all? I probably sound like I’m over-selling it, but a lot of articles went out about it.” He continues right along, casually like the situation doesn’t affect him any longer. Perhaps the period of stress already passed while Hoseok only focuses now on overcoming it.

You nod gently, wracking around your brain to recall the majority of the facts that were presented, “You both got caught on a date and your relationship got outted.” You don’t beat around, though your tone is simply factual. “I didn’t pay much attention to be honest though. I was kind of busy back then with my job.” You add on as you recall many nights during that time spent crammed into your home studio working on two different albums at a time, and only getting away from the job when Jimin came over periodically to make sure you took breaks.

“That was practically all that happened.” You startle from your thoughts when Yoongi gripes his opinion aloud, glaring towards the coffee table while Hoseok beside him shrugs, relaxing back into the cushion, like he knows Yoongi isn’t finished. “They were just dating privately, the public found out, and that’s the only truth of it all that happened. Everything else in the media was complete crap.”

“Admittedly,” Hoseok cuts in while Yoongi groans, fiddling with his unkempt hair. “That is basically all that happened between Seulgi and I.” You nod at Hoseok’s intention to soothe over the situation, while your eyes remain trailed rather apologetically towards Yoongi who appears far more irritated by the subject than Hoseok. “But she lied to them to save her and her group’s image.” You watch Yoongi sigh at the end of Hoseok’s softly spoken sentence, frowning more at stirring these memories. You interrupt gently,

“You both don’t have to tell me-- it obviously bothers you-”

Hoseok shakes his head, “I don’t mind. Besides when you pity me by the end of this all, it’ll feel worth it to explain.” His smile is incredibly teasing, tone joking, trying to alleviate any of the heavy atmosphere because truly Hoseok doesn’t feel the remnants of the past as painfully as he used to. You try to match his expression with a tiny smile of your own, but Yoongi doesn’t believe the sight as he bites his lip. Feeling a little bad for bothering you with the messy memories. “She basically told the media that-- because I’ve had my career longer than she did, that I manipulated her into the relationship.”

Hoseok nearly chuckles as you raise your eyebrows in shock at the words. Imagining how scrutinized the entirety of his career could’ve become with a malleable statement like that, you find it shocking to say the least. Even though you can’t say for sure, you assume the two of them had a nice relationship, and for Seulgi to cast all blame onto Hoseok in such a harmful manner, you’re stunned into silence, only reacting by your expression.

“She and I both knew each other since we were trainees.” Hoseok says, stopping as you scoff. Completely thrown off by how Seulgi was able to completely toss Hoseok aside, and say something so damaging-- when it’s clearly wrong if they’ve known each other from before fame. You’re continuously baffled, glancing towards Yoongi who looks at you just nodding his head to assert that what Hoseok said is true. “But anyways, I guess now that I’m trying to have a comeback, she wants to ease her guilt by getting our dear Yoongi here involved in her place.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, sighing because the thought alone tires him. He’s so fed up with all of the things she’s done to Hoseok that now extend as far as himself like he’s collateral. The extension only serves to further bother Yoongi about everything that Hoseok struggles to go through in order to fix the damage she caused.

“I don’t like her.” You say in the short silence, voice entirely disgusted, “No offense to your old feelings, Hoseok, but she sounds awful.” Yoongi can’t help smiling at his lap while you talk with contempt, finding your bluntness in the midst of heightened emotions consistent from the past instances he’s seen. Thinking it’s somehow an endearing quality.

“No offense taken. I don’t have feelings for her like that anymore anyways.” Hoseok smiles wide at your candor, happy at least that the mood isn’t so bleak anymore.

“Didn’t you say anything to defend yourself in the press though?”

“Well,” His smile crumbles, shifting into a more embarrassed and remorseful disposition when Hoseok rubs his neck sheepishly, “I was kind of stupid back then, and thought I was doing good for her by letting most of it go uncontested.” He chuckles hollowly, and you realize that this is the part of the memories he’s evidently not completely moved on from. You bite your lip, internally apologetic to the question. “That’s my own fault though.”

“No,” Yoongi cuts in quietly, yet firmly. His head shakes softly back and forth. “It’s not.”

You stop yourself from smiling fondly at Yoongi’s stance between Hoseok and an onslaught of self-blame. Entirely parallel of how he’s taken care of you through definitive speech assuring you that the trials you face aren’t create from your own error, Yoongi now glares at the idea that Hoseok put into the air. Obstinate against it when Hoseok tries to speak again and Yoongi instead voices, “Her misusing your feelings isn’t your fault.”

“I agree,” You say without realizing, watching the two of them glance back towards your direction when you inevitably bite your lip from speaking up. “Well,” Your word is nervous for a moment until you look at Yoongi and feel more sure. Finding Hoseok’s eyes again, you’re not doubtful as you try to back up Yoongi’s claim, “She shouldn’t have lied to the media in the first place just to save herself.”

“Oh, another addition to Yoongi’s hype squad for me?” Hoseok smiles gently as you finish your sentence, speaking his own with a jovial tone. You shrug, biting your lip and wondering shortly if you were too direct in how you spoke to him. “You know, when I heard he got tied into a fake relationship, I was kind of worried the person would be annoying.” You say nothing, instead biting your lip because initially you thought Yoongi hated you. “But you’re a nice person, Y/N. I’m glad it’s you.”

You grow silently surprised at Hoseok’s assessment of your character. Sending another glance in Yoongi’s direction that is matched by a tiny twist in your neck, you find him ready to meet you with just as tiny of a shrug. Slight smile almost floral in feeling. “He has to approve of even my fake girlfriends, I guess.” Yoongi explains in a gentle voice that’s sarcastic for Hoseok’s ears. You can’t help but smile in return as Yoongi’s words that play along imply in some ways that he thinks positively of you as well. Not that you doubted, but it is nice to see actively reinforced.

“I do!” Hoseok looks at Yoongi, nodding his head once in agreement, then back to you with a nod making full use of his chin to gesture to your person, “If Y/N hadn’t been cool, I would’ve gone and ruined more of my image trying to argue with your CEO.” Little bits of laughter escape your lips as you curl your knees further to your chest, comfortable with the two of them to feel like the conversation is wholly casual. “But I’ve bugged you both enough about my ex-- you both just woke up not too long ago, right? I’ll buy us lunch, let’s go out.”

You tense from surprise, your legs nearly kicking into yourself as you grip tighter when Hoseok all the sudden hops up from his seat on the couch. Pointing theatrically to you, then Yoongi, then himself, he speaks, “You both deserve it after dealing with my spiteful ex. I’ll drive too; let me just go to the bathroom real quickly.”

“You don’t have to join if you’re busy.” Yoongi tells you as Hoseok saunters down the hallway familiarly. You rest your chin on your knee thoughtful for a second to your calendar.

“I don’t have anything much to do anyways,” You mumble as you go over every hour as though your phone’s planner is in front of your eyes. “Oh-- but if you want it to be just the two of you…” Your voice trails off when Yoongi shakes his head, then leans it at an angle to rest against his palm. A smile plays at his lips when he speaks warmly,

“No, you can always feel free to tag along.” Your head nods unconsciously, finding his acceptance of your presence something to be proud of though you’re unsure why. Maybe because of how much you’ve looked up to his skills in your shares careers, maybe because of how much he’s helped you. Maybe because you enjoyed his company. “Ah,” He rubs his hair, somewhat light-hearted in voice as he adds sheepishly, “Well, I guess as long as you don’t mind pretending to be my girlfriend again though.”

You shrug, smiling towards Yoongi to assure him as you reply without a trace of disingenuity, “I’m used to it by now, Yoon.”

---

On a sunny day early in the following month, you sit sipping on an iced drink you picked up on the way to the company. Comfortably resting your arms on the pillow that sits on your crisscrossed lap, your head nods in tune with the beat of a song playing in soundproof headphones. In some moments to quickly place your cup to the coffee table, to scramble tiny notes on the notepad resting beside your thigh.

It’s the third time you’ve listened over the song in a row while Yoongi’s off finishing touch-ups on another song of his in the recording booth. Having spent the majority of the day in there, you brought along his preferred iced coffee drink that sits beside your own while you wait for him to come to his studio. Making use of the time, you’ve looked over the tiny playlist of in-progress tracks the two of you have messed around with for the past few weeks since the party.

Yoongi said you’re free to come to his studio whenever-- even gave you the passcode a while back-- justifying the great offer by saying he plans to release something from them so your help with any would be useful. You’re quite sure that in those stated truths also hid his way of giving you an outlet away from thinking of the collapse of your almost relationship with Jimin.

The method is effective to help, you’ve noticed. Along with Namjoon dragging you to his cafe to try concoctions he’s trying to decide on for future menus, while chatting with one another about nothing in particular, and Seokjin making all three of you do his random every-other-week activities, you’ve found the time outside of work filled well without giving you the time to dwell. And you’re thankful to the three of them for that. Especially considering Yoongi’s studio being a way to hideaway in the company itself.

It makes the hard to ponder memories invisible, though they’re left with the same mass. Undoubtedly something to cross again in time, but you think by then it’ll all be easier to handle. You’re hopeful of that idea.

In adding the finishing touch of notes for the current song, you watch a shadow envelope the paper you write on, but ignore Yoongi’s presence so the thought doesn’t leave. His shoes step in the corner of your peripherals, leading him to his chair as the last few lines of lyrics play in your ears. When you finally look up to see him, his hand is deep on top of his head, tossling locks of newly bleached hair as he sighs, though you can’t hear him. You remove his headphones to rest on your shoulders,

“Long session?” You question, reaching to swap your notepad with your drink, “Oh, I got you an Americano.” His head shifts at the mention of a deverage, and he rolls his seat over to grab it happily,

“Thank you-- need it.” Yoongi sips the beverage languidly through the straw, and you wonder if he actually went to sleep when he said he would the night before when you both were texting back in forth wrapped up in work independent of one another. “Yeah, I just couldn’t get the bridge to sound like I wanted.” Another sip disrupts the ice in the cup causing clatter. “Sorry, I took awhile.”

“I don’t mind.” You tell him, relaxing back into the couch where you stretch your legs out, catching the sight of different notifications on his computer as he wakes it. “Besides it’s not like any of the stuff we’re working on is legit.” Yoongi hums with the straw between his lips, lazily dragging his mouse around to check in on various emails and messages.

“Maybe if I could get my management team to ease up on the hardass image for me.” You notice the twinge in his calm tone while he ponders aloud, uncaring of how he disagrees with his public image. Trusting you with his complaints. “But either way, it’s nice making whatever without the pressure of releasing it eventually.”

You set your finished drink back on the coffee table, using a coaster still so the ice’s condensation doesn’t leave a ring. The idea of release sounds more inviting to your ears than you would like to admit, mainly because of how much you enjoy working on the tracks thus far. While Yoongi had the overall say due to the songs being ultimately his, they nonetheless have plenty of your touch mixed in that would likely be replaced in little bits if it were other producers working on them. At least in Yoongi’s case if something didn’t fit for him he’d tell you rather than letting you find out on the release date itself when you listen in along with the general public.

“By the way, I forgot to mention recently, but I’m going to be out of town for a couple of weeks.” Your head lifts stirring the hair framing your face. Yoongi returns the gaze, but the silence that takes over feels surprising to both of you. Subtle as it may be, there’s something disappointing about the news. “I have some fan meetings in a few countries to do around by debut anniversary time.” The explanation feels lackluster, not because it bothers him to go off to see fans-- Yoongi definitely enjoys connecting with those who listen to and support his work. You nod at his words, uncertain yourself of what to say.

Maybe it’s because the past couple of months you’ve seen him practically every day that the idea Yoongi will be gone for two weeks feels odd. In your head you question what you’ll do around the time spent working for the company. You’ll likely not even have to show up to work during that time, capable of doing everything from your apartment.

“What day do you leave?” You wonder how you never heard of his departure before this. Knowing fan meetings are organized well in advance, knowing that Yoongi wouldn’t have actually forgotten to mention it this far in.

“This coming Tuesday.” Six days off and he’s just now mentioning it. You nod again, considering why he waited so long. A type of consideration? You smile a little, ready to joke it off if you were wrong,

“Were you worried about telling me because I’d be alone here at the company?”

Yoongi shakes his head a little, not combating your question with light sarcasm or laughter, showing you that you’re at least some correct in your presumption. The drink you brought him gets placed beside his keyboard, Yoongi turning his chair towards you properly as he admits easily, “Not completely, but,” He shrugs, “It was a thought.”

“I’ll be okay.” Your voice sounds sure, and you feel the same energy. “Bit bored maybe.” Yoongi’s lips cast upwards into a smile, relaxed by your tone and feeling silly that he worried about it in the first place. “I’m used to kinda being on my own here anyways, and besides I have Joon and Jin to go bother if I get really bored.”

“And me.” Yoongi’s words follow the end of your sentence, firm in how he speaks to set the point across clearly. You pause, considering intention only for a second because it sounds different how he places himself into the group. “You don’t have to get bored, you can text or call whenever.”

You bite your inner cheek, trying to push back the tiniest flutter developing from how his voice sounds entirely gentle and sweet. Yoongi likely isn’t even aware of his effect, but like usual he’s a comforting presence. “Yeah, and you.”

Yoongi smiles when the outline of gratitude makes your own lips curl upright, but you duck your chin a little into the cover over the crossed arms you left perched atop your knees. He just continues in the soft expression, continuing along with a shrug, “Plus you know the code to my studio, so you can come in here whenever. I make it sound like I’m leaving for a year. So dramatic.” You giggle as Yoongi rubs the base of his neck and avoids eye contact for a moment because of sudden fluster emitting in his throat that he worries may escape visually onto his face.

“I should get you a cake or something for your debut anniversary.” You say to break away his embarrassment, though it’s a refreshing sight to witness. “I actually bake really well, isn’t that shocking?”

“So shocking since you burnt your leftovers in your oven the other day.” Your eyebrows furrow at his teasing tone while your lips pout at the memory. “You complained about it to me-”

“Anyways,” You cut him off with a smile to which Yoongi just shakes his head and chuckles. Reclining in his seat he listens to you continue brightly, “Vanilla cake with strawberry cream cheese frosting. It’ll be pink and pretty. Sound enticing?”

“It does in fact,” He nods slowly amused by your confidence in your baking capabilities. “You don’t need to though, it probably takes a lot of work.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t be humble, you deserve it for seven years in the industry.” You point to yourself, trying to continue in the light-hearted banter while you reinforce, “Just think of it as a fan from day one giving her favorite artist a gift, okay?”

“Fan.” Yoongi laughs, finally reclaiming his iced Americano after many of the cubes melted to half their sizes. “I don’t think of you as a fan, that’s impossible,” Yoongi murmurs taking a long sip, as you audibly huff and think of a new way to put it. “But since you’re insisting then it’s okay. Don’t worry if you get too busy though.”

“I won’t, I’m pretty free other than business as usual around here.” You say happy to hear him verbally accept, even though you planned to make him the gift in any case. You sit back contemplating the shape while Yoongi just chuckles mumbling something to himself about you doing things however you like no matter what he says. “Oh,” You reconsider your calendar, biting your lip at the particular day coming up during Yoongi’s absence. Timely occurrence in retrospect.

“What?” Yoongi notices the change in your eyes that narrow as you think over your upcoming two weeks without him. You shake your head slightly, trying to rationalize the event. It’s just business and not something to worry about, but now that the time has come so much closer, the two options of what you could do play in your mind cluttering your thoughts from answering him for a minute. You eventually frown, stirring worried bubbles in Yoongi’s chest that don’t settle as you shake it away to smile up at him sheepishly,

“I just remembered I have a meeting to start discussing my contract renewal next Friday.”

Yoongi hears more of the ice in his drink clatter as it melts. The news is unexpected to his ears entirely having not known that your contract with SoundWave would end this year. He considers your job and how much anguish it gives you to be unable to have recognition for anything you do. He also considers Jimin’s presence and how much it likely hurts to see him around the company, to still work with him.

Realizing you’re much more talented than what this company deserves considering your treatment, Yoongi almost feels the need to tell you not to renew and leave. Find better work, but he knows that’s a gamble as unlikely as winning the lottery. Even if you leave there’s no certainty of work elsewhere, especially not to the degree that you receive presently. When your repertoire is practically empty of accomplishment. Despite Yoongi not being in your position, he feels trapped thinking of a way to change it.

“Are you going to renew?” Yoongi asks you gently, the question liken more closely to an accidental thought than a real inquisition. He watches in dismay as your shoulders simply shrug in response, understanding that the reality of the upcoming meeting will certainly bother you more than the ramifications of your situation with Jimin ending. If anything add greatly to it. And he’s not going to be around to help you with it in person.

“Yeah, I’m going to.” Your statement ends the drought of words. The information makes Yoongi’s shoulders tense, somewhat surprised that you already have an answer of what you plan to do. To the majority of people it’s the most logical, economical-- safe of the two choices available to you. But it feels constricting in his chest to hear you say those words.

Yoongi recalls Hoseok letting the media destroy his image and now watches you say you’re going to let your career go unnoticed because of SoundWave’s manipulation. Each situation is different, but watching his friends powerless to bigger forces around them makes Yoongi’s fists clench, irritated. He sighs to himself, really at a loss of what to tell you that could be of any use, because there’s really no contest between the two options.

Your ears pick up on the sound of Yoongi sighing in dissatisfaction. You know it’s not aimed at your choice, but likely the thoughts in his head that presently make him stare towards the wall with his eyebrows hardened. Like Namjoon, he doesn’t want you to come to that decision. But you have a feeling both know there’s little for you not signing the paper again.

You’re unwilling to give up doing what you love for a living, even if the situation isn’t ideal.

“I think,” You start timidly, watching Yoongi’s eyes flick towards you intently paying attention. “I’m probably going to take up your offer to call you a few times… So sorry in advance if I get annoying by doing it too much.”

“You won’t,” Yoongi brushes his bands from his face, head shaking at the idea and that you still worry about those kinds of things with him. “I like talking with you, it’s not going to bother me.”

“You like talking to me?” You repeat hearing that your voice sounds higher from the surprise-- flattered. Yoongi’s open mouth shuts, contemplating if the phrasing sounded weird, but he just shrugs and nods, once again avoiding eye contact for the sake of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” He just says, rubbing his face, “Well, we’re friends--why wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah,” You can’t stop the smile on your face despite the pink blossoming around the site, “I’m honored-”

“Don’t tease me.” You laugh at him cutting off your sentence with a tiny growl of words, thinking Yoongi seems really endearing when he’s flustered by things he clearly didn’t think through saying. “I was going to get you dinner to pay back for the drink, but now I don’t know if I want to.” You hear him speaking like a warning as you continue to laugh softly, all the while Yoongi stands and rubs his face.

“Dinner is equivalent to a three dollar Americano?” You watch him with a testing smile, voice light-hearted. Yoongi shrugs as he sits beside you on the couch, intending to finally see your notes on the songs you’ve been working on.

“If I buy at McDonald’s it is.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags-- however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire​ @tsvkino-usagi​@xionysus​​

I think I have like one more part after this one for the nagatalia story

contains: soft, safe, unwilling vore/fearplay, and mentions of violence towards species near the end

They were back again. Lovino just so happened to be as close to the border as he could be when he sensed them. Unfortunately, he also had Feliciano with him today, the naga smaller than him and could have easily ran into them had Lovino not realized and stopped him before he could move any closer. 

"What is it?" Feliciano was confused at his brother's sudden change in demeanor. He was an average size for a naga, and therefore not able to sense things as quick as Lovino could. He could still sense things quickly, however. It hit him a few seconds after he asked, a faint scent of humans. "Humans?" "I'll deal with them." He replied, but Feli could tell he wasn't sure how to with him there too. Actually, Gilbert told him a few weeks ago that Lovino caught a couple humans, and Lovino refused to answer how he dealt with them. "You aren't going to hurt them, right?" 

The duo were back, but this time they didn't bring any of their equipment or journals. Today, their main focus was to try and develop a better relationship with the nagas of the forest so they could find a way to compromise for information. Of course, Antonio jumped at the chance to take the mission, if nothing else than to just make sure Lovino didn't cost them anymore members. He didn't have to drag Bella with him, but she was wary of returning to the forest after how angry Lovino was at Antonio for his frequent visits. Plus, the two needed to be careful. Their boss was clear on the no equipment policy for the mission, and that included their weapons. Should they run into any threats, they'd be in trouble. 

Antonio felt a little more confident in looking for the naga this time around, now that he knew what exactly to look for. Bella kept an eye out for anything else they needed to be concerned about, knowing he was on his tangent about focusing on only the naga again. 

"Your obsession is going to get you killed one of these days." She teased, ducking under some branches that were hanging low. 

Dangerously low. It raised a spark of concern, and she made a note to keep it in mind. "Maybe. But if I don't try, who will? You know everyone else at base is scared of the creatures here. Especially Lovino." 

"For good reason. Do you not remember how angry he was with you?" 

The brothers could hear them now, and before Feliciano could process what they were saying, Lovino pulled the naga closer to his face. "Hey! I'm trying to hear them!" "Go home, I'll be there as soon as I'm done." It was clear that Lovino wouldn't take no for an answer, so Feliciano nodded and started for home when he was released. After that, Lovino turned his attention back to the humans. 

Bella noticed the movement to the side, and stopped walking. Antonio noticed after a few steps, and walked back to her. "What is it?" "Something was moving." "Do you want to see what it was? We don't have any defense." "Yea, I know. Still." She could tell Antonio didn't really like the idea of investigating it, and with good reason, but she knew it'd be better to put her mind at ease before she started jumping at every little noise. 

The light, even at midday, was dim, the trees above blocking most of it. It was difficult enough to see the path ahead of them, let alone going off the trail. It was so dim they never saw it coming. 

She almost screamed when large fingers wrapped around her, lifting her off the ground before she could call out for Antonio. Not that calling for him would have helped, because as she stopped moving up and was released from the grasp, she realized he was in the same predicament. The two were now above the trees, allowing them to see what had grabbed them. 

She looked down at the hand, following it to its wrist, then further until she recognized who had picked them up. 

"Are all humans this stupid or are you a special case?" Once again, it was directed at Antonio. "We're here to try and make a better relationship with you!" She sighed, looking down at the hand. She wasn't going to watch it get ugly this time. She feared if Lovino got any louder that she was going to get scared again. 

The truth was, both were pretty happy that Lovino found them before anything else did. Even with that fact, Lovino was probably the biggest, and more than likely the meanest, of any of the predators around here. It was hard to not be frightened. 

"Of course you are. No fucking weapons, wandering around the forest with no backup. You sure they didn't just send you on a suicide mission?" Lovino glared. "I can't put up with you two today. Leave." He was starting to lower them to the ground but Antonio wrapped his arms around the naga's thumb. "We can't leave without any progress made!" That much was true, Bella hated to admit. Their boss gets unhappy with no progress made, he wouldn't let them redo the mission if they took too long. She looked up just in time to see his eye twitch before both of them were lifted quick enough that they became disoriented, and before Antonio could get his bearings back he was in the naga's mouth once more. 

Bella looked down at the leathery surface beneath her to stop the dizzy sensation, getting back to normal with enough time to look up at the naga as he swallowed.

She looked at his other hand and realized what happened instantly, fear making her heart drop. 

He was angry before he did this, and didn't say anything about having nice intentions. His other hand moved to pick her up and she panicked, scrambling away from the fingers. His hand stopped after a moment, him watching her cower against his clawed fingertips in an attempt to hide. 

A sick feeling washed over him. He hadn't meant to make the girl afraid. He thought she had more trust in him than that, since she came back. Did Antonio force her to again? She had been terrified at the idea the first time. His pulled his hand away, gently moving the girl towards his chest, where his pouch was. He was a little familiar with human customs, like how the kiss he did last time comforted her. This was supposed to be comforting as well, squishing her against his chest. Humans called it hugging, if he remembered correctly. It didn't matter, what mattered was calming her down. 

Bella squeezed her eyes shut when he started moving again, bracing herself to prepare for what she hoped wouldn't be her death. She felt herself get pressed against something warm, yet it felt the same as the hand under her.. which hadn't left yet. Was she not being eaten? 

She opened her eyes slowly, afraid of what to expect. She found quickly that he was holding her against his chest. But why? 

She jumped when a finger gently touched her head, running down her back before going back to her head. Was.. was he petting her? 

She couldn't help but calm down, her curiosity of how Lovino knew these human customs overriding her fear of him. She was still concerned for Antonio, and she'd have to ask if he was okay. 

When she stopped shaking he stopped, slowly lifting her back up. She didn't fight against him, so he assumed it was okay. He was going to ask her if she was okay but she beat him. "How do you know all these human customs?" His mouth opened, then closed again. After a few seconds, he simply said, "I can't remember." "Okay." She nodded, accepting the answer. Now for the second question plaguing her mind. "Is Antonio-" "He's fine. I was storing you two because I'm with my brother today and I don't want him finding out about you two." "Rather you don't want Antonio finding out about him." She teased. He nodded, leading her to burst out laughing. "He's normal sized, so he wouldn't be able to get Antonio to shut up by eating him." "I'm sure he could, it would just take longer." "Then there wouldn't be a point." He lowered her slightly, and she realized what he was doing. "What are you going to do about your brother? Or are you going to keep us in until he leaves?" He sighed, unsure how to answer. The rational thing would be to get Feliciano to leave so he can let them out before nightfall, but after sending him away so quickly earlier he doubted his brother would leave. Plus, having the two in his pouch made him feel full, and that would help him get through the day that he'd inevitably have to spend with his brother. 

"Probably until he leaves. I don't know when that will be." She nodded, then closed her eyes. He lowered her until he could slip her into his mouth with ease.

She didn't fight back, just like last time. He was able to send her down quickly. As soon as he was sure she was in his pouch, he started back towards home. 

~~~

"Are the humans gone?" He nodded as he moved the boulder in front of the door. "Did you hurt them?" "No, I scared them. They aren't here." He seemed satisfied with the answer, getting up and getting closer to the naga. "How come you don't like humans? Are they evil?" "Very. Don't trust them whatsoever." He failed to mention why. Feliciano still believed their grandfather was out there somewhere, along with the first wolf friend he made. Lovino knew what had happened to his friend, but he couldn't break it to him. It was humans, of course. He was just a pup when they…

"I guess. Gilbert said that some humans can be nice." "Don't count on it. It's better to assume they all have bad intentions. You don't get tricked and attacked that way." The smaller naga simply nodded. Lovino laid down, ready to take a nap. Maybe after a nap Feli would be willing to leave and he could let them out. 

Feli waited until he was settled, then slithered over so he could coil himself around the fingers. He curled as close to his brother as possible, to retain heat. That as a reason he liked the wolves so much, they were furry and they retained heat a lot better than his kind could. That, and they were nice to be around. 

It was a little bit after Lovino drifted off, and he was close to, when he heard something. Carefully untangling himself, he realized the sound was coming from the larger naga's chest. Specifically where their pouches were. He got closer, and realized that they were voices. The same voices from before! 

He wanted to talk to them, he never talked to humans before. He doubted they would answer from inside, though. Plus, what if they were scared? He had to tell them they were okay! 

He got close to his brothers face, his movements as gentle as possible to avoid disturbing Lovino. 

He carefully pried his lips open wide enough that he could slip in with ease, barely spending a few seconds inside the mouth before pressing against the throat, trying to get in. 

Lovino woke up to a strange prodding at his throat, and he realized someone was in his mouth. His tired brain processed it as someone stuck in his mouth, and he swallowed before trying to investigate. It was too late when he realized it had a tail like his. 

He had to swallow again to get the tail down, and when he did he was pissed. 

"Feliciano what the fuck!? What if I didn't realize you were alive? I could have killed you! What were you doing in-" it dawned on him too late that the humans were still in his pouch. 

That was Feliciano's plan, then. He wanted to meet the humans, after somehow finding out he had stored them. It didn't change the fact that he could have killed Feliciano! 

Feli heard the yelling as he went down, feeling guilty for scaring his brother like that. He knew Lovino wouldn't hurt him with this, but it didn't change the fact that it was pretty dangerous to do while he was sleeping. 

He didn't focus on that for long, because he was soon released into the pouch, where the humans were startled by the sudden yelling and even more so by the new addition. 

"Don't be scared! I'm a lot nicer than my brother here." "Don't say anything to them!" Lovino knew it was too late, however. It didn't mean he couldn't be upset about it. 

"My name is Feliciano, a lot of my friends call me Feli! What are you names?" 

Bella was wary to say anything, knowing Lovino was upset with the situation. But she was also curious as to why Feliciano did that. Maybe nagas were more okay with being stored since it's a part of their anatomy? 

"My name is Antonio, this is Bella." She gave a small wave when she was introduced, figuring that Antonio was going to anyway. They heard a loud huff from above them. "You know what? I give up. Go ahead and get your stupid information. After this, if I catch you in my forest again I will fucking kill you. Got it?" "No!" Feli yelled. "Why kill them? They haven't done anything!" "Because I tried my hardest to keep them away from you because humans are dangerous! They'll use the information to hurt us. So sorry that I'm putting your life above theirs." He wanted to say more, they could all tell. And they could feel the anger he had.

She never felt more in danger in her life. 

The trio was silent for a few tense moments, Lovino's words sinking in. Bella curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. She tried to keep herself from acting out of fear, but she really wanted to get out. She wanted to leave the forest, regretting getting talked into coming again. She hoped that once they were released Antonio wouldn't take another mission in the forest, and the whole group of researchers can just move to an alternate area to explore. 

The other human was starting to take Lovino's words seriously, but he knew if they returned with any information it would lead to disaster for the nagas. He could tell Bella was scared, he wished he could comfort her. But he knew it was his fault, she didn't want to come back, but he talked her into it. 

Feliciano didn't want to make Lovino any more angry than he was, but he also knew he was just talking out of anger. Lovino wouldn't actually kill anyone, right? He hoped it wasn't a risk they would have to take. "...Can I ask why you two come back?" Bella sighed. "Our boss makes us. He has these missions out and us two are the only ones who will accept the naga missions. Lovino scared the rest of them away." "Things won't really end well if we return from a mission without progress." Antonio added. "Oh." Was all Feliciano said. He tried to make a connection, and the closest thing related to their situation was the training Ludwig made him do, along with their kitsune friend Kiku. If he didn't do the training he didn't get to take a nap during the day until he did. Maybe that was a good connection? 

"I understand that. Ludwig makes me do training and won't let me take a siesta until I finish it." More silence. Feliciano drummed his fingers lightly against his tail, uncomfortably coiled up against the walls of the pouch. "What was this mission's goal?" "To make a better friendship with the nagas of the forest. Though, we failed the last mission we had pertaining to nagas too so even if we just leave with more knowledge on nagas they'll be satisfied." 

"What if you fail enough missions?" The humans looked at each other the best they could in the dark. "It depends on what it is.." Antonio started. "If the species is too hostile and no progress is made on the missions, they try to gather a group to.." Bella couldn't say it. She couldn't bring herself to tell the two that if they didn't cooperate that they would become targets. That a group of trained and armed soldiers would come to eliminate the hostile species. "...to what?" They flinched as Lovino joined the conversation again. Right, he could hear us.. 

"They would get a group of people together to…" she sent Antonio a pleading look. "Take care of the problem?" He offered. "That doesn't answer my question, dumbfuck." "To put it in company terms, 'eliminate the hostile species to promote peace'." He blurted out in response. Neither of them wanted to say it, especially not with Feliciano in here. He seemed too innocent to deal with hunters. 

"So if we don't cooperate, they come to kill us?" Bella curled up tighter. She was sure he would ensure they didn't come back now that he knew. Maybe she was just thinking the worst, but she had a bad feeling about the whole situation. 

The walls around them began to tighten, and she broke. 

She let out a scream, stopping everything in their tracks. "Bella!?" Antonio tried to calm her down, finding her arm and trying to pull her to him. She started flailing in response, panic taking over her mind. She felt something wrap around her waist and a few seconds later, most of her body so she couldn't flail. She tried to scream again but her mouth was covered by something scaly, and slimy. Her eyes were screwed shut, but something felt off. She felt the need to open them, but she didn't want to face what was surely going to be their death. Something brushed against her cheek and they flew open. 

She had a suspicion that Feliciano was trying to keep her still to calm her down and that was confirmed by the coils wrapped around her from the neck down. The tip of his tail was pressed against her lips and a hand rested against her jaw. She looked up and met the naga's eyes- which were a strange, swirly pattern? It wasn't like that before, was it? It was getting harder to think, she couldn't look away from the gold and amber swirls. Her mind got fuzzy and she went limp, relaxing against the scales that held her. The naga said something in a language she didn't know, probably talking to Lovino, but she couldn't focus on it. She felt herself being moved, and now she sat next to Antonio, who looked worried. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, keeping an eye on the naga on the other side of the pouch. 

After a few minutes she felt the hypnosis wear off, and she sat up. Her head was pounding, probably a side effect of waking up from it. "Bella?" "I'm okay. I.." Now that she calmed down, she felt embarrassed for acting out. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." "Was it panic? You were panicking, because Lovino was letting us out." Feliciano asked innocently. She looked down. "Yea, I panicked. I thought he.." "Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't kill you two. Not with Feliciano here." He wanted to tell her he never planned on killing her because she kept getting dragged into these situations not by her choice, but he decided against it. "Not with me not here, either." Feliciano added hastily. "Mh." 

He made her scared again. 

Why did he care so much? This is the third time he's scared her, and yet it makes him feel awful every single time. Yet he felt nothing about scaring the other humans.. 

Why does scaring her make him feel sad? 

He pressed a hand against his abdomen, feeling a flinch in response when he found the girl, still curled up. Guilt cut through him like a knife. 

Pride be damned. He needed to apologize. 

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm not trying to scare you or make you think you're in danger while you're with me." Feliciano jumped on right before he could continue. "Actually, you're safer in the forest with Lovino. Everyone knows not to mess with him, because he won't hesitate to stand up for himself. Honestly, it's a good thing he finds you two everytime you come here, I can think of a few monsters who would hurt you as soon as they saw you." 

Bella looked down, feeling guilty. It was her fault she couldn't keep her fear in check, why are they apologizing? "No, it's-" "It's not your fault. And it isn't Antonio's either. I didn't know about the company thing until now, I thought he was just being stupid and wanting to learn about us for personal reasons." 

"I would have told you before, but I was hoping we could have made some progress first. That way the bosses would be off of our backs for a little while. I didn't want to make you angry with us for the company's policy." His arms tightened slightly around Bella. "And I wasn't trying to pull you into any of this either." Feliciano shifted slightly, pulling his coils closer to himself to give them some space. "If we answer your questions, you'll make sure we don't become targets?" "We will do our best to." Bella said. 

"Do you want to do this questioning thing while in there, or do you want to come out?" 

Bella was about to say yes, but she hesitated. She felt safer now that everyone had explained themselves, and honestly it didn't make a difference except for making Lovino do a little extra work.  "I wouldn't mind staying, if that's okay." 

~~~

Their boss grinned down at the folder on his desk. "Finally got through?" "Yea, it just took a while." "A lot of trial and error." The two gave vague explanations. 

Honestly, would their boss believe them if they had said they got most of their information while residing in the naga's pouch, which was essentially a second stomach? Would their boss believe that was the second time they were in the pouch? It would be better to keep the adventure stories to themselves. 

The man did a quick flip through of the folder, taking in the information. "And this was a friendly species despite the scaring?" "That's their natural response to foreign creatures in their territory. They were friendly after they started to recognize us." "Well, that's all we need to know. If they don't pose a threat, we have no reason to mess with them. We can go ahead and move to the next biome."

Life and Love

Chapter Three: Dreams Come True

“Victor, you're going away for four days,” Mari says with an exasperated sigh, but her smile is fond. “She's not going to forget you exist.”

Victor extends a finger, and a tiny hand grasps it. “Winnie, Winnie, Winnie,” he cooes. “I'll miss you so, so much.”

His chest aches. He’s been away from her before — coaching Elizaveta and Yuri at Russian Nationals — back when she’d been just a few weeks old, but Yuuri had stayed home with her then. And he'd stayed home while Yuuri had been away for a few days coaching at U.S. Nationals and then at World’s. But this is the first time neither of them will be here with her overnight.

Thinking rationally, they've left her in Mari’s care for date nights before — just last month they'd gone out to celebrate their seventh anniversary — and she'll likely be comfortable and happy the entire time they're gone.

But part of his brain can't stop going over and over all the disaster scenarios that could play out. It doesn't seem to matter that for the most extreme ones — earthquake, nuclear meltdown, tsunami — his or Yuuri’s presence wouldn't make any difference whatsoever.

His heart has been pulled out and exposed to the world, and if anything were ever to happen to this one tiny human, it would be utterly shattered.

Mundane things could go wrong, too. Really, even if she's totally fine, her bedtime routine is such a nightmare that Mari might never be willing to watch her again after being subjected to that special sort of torture.

“You be good for Auntie Mari, okay?” he says, as if a six month old baby has any choice about her behavior. He wants to reach out and wrap her up in another tight hug before it's time to go, but he's already done so several times and Mari is probably tired of passing her back and forth.

He turns his head at the thud thud thud of Yuuri descending the stairs carrying their luggage.

“I can't believe after all this time you still haven't learned to travel light,” Yuuri says, making a beeline for Mari and Winnie.

Victor takes the bags from him. “You could have called me up to help.” His suggestion is met with a smile and a shrug.

Yuuri reaches out, arms open, and Mari passes Winnie over to him. She babbles happily as he clutches her to his chest. The sight of them together is so sweet he might just die. It doesn’t matter that he’s exposed to it every day, it never gets any less potent.

“Victor, I don't know about this,” Yuuri says, eyes glistening. “Maybe I should tell Phichit it's not going to work this year; she's still too little for us to leave her.”

Victor twists his mouth. They've put in the time to learn Phichit's routine and spent a few hours dusting off a couple of their old ones, too. It would be a shame if that had all been for nothing. But if Yuuri really isn't comfortable, they won't be performing at their best, and that might be disappointing for everyone involved.

He chews his lip. “Are you sure? Phichit—”

“No, Yuuri, come on.” Mari cuts him off, folding her arms. “She’ll be fine, and you know this means a lot to Phichit. Next year might be better timing, but this is the debut of his ice show.”

“But—”

“One of his hamsters had babies right before your wedding, and he still came,” Mari says, raising her eyebrows.

Yuuri scoffs. “That’s not the same, not even a little bit.”

Winnie squirms away from Yuuri to reach for Mari, who gladly takes her back, and that seems to decide it for Yuuri.

He sighs. “You’re right. She’ll be fine.” He looks at Victor. “This will probably be way harder on us than on her.”

“You’ve got to get going if you don’t want to miss the train,” Mari says, in a singsong voice, smiling big at Winnie and tilting her head towards the door. She bounces on her toes gently and Winnie smiles back — her huge, adorable, toothless smile; chubby, round cheeks; the sweetest almond eyes and button nose crinkled up — whole face radiating pure joy.

Always such a delightful, happy baby — until she needs to sleep. Maybe a few days away will be a good thing. Mari is a saint to offer them this opportunity, really.

Several nights alone with Yuuri in a hotel room with no interruptions via crying baby… Sleeping in as late as they wish… Fun performances of their favorite routines…

“—and the fridge is stocked with pre-prepared foods for her to try, since she's started on solids now, and remember that the formula is only good for twenty-four hours once you mix it, and—”

Mari’s eyes are glazing over as Yuuri bombards her with information they've gone over at least a half dozen times. Also, everything she could possibly need to know is compiled and color-coded into one convenient binder for easy consultation.

Victor smiles fondly and puts a hand at the small of Yuuri’s back. “I think Mari’s got this. And we really don't want to miss the train.”

***

“Oh my god!” Phichit claps his hands together, visibly jittering with overflowing energy. “I’m so unbelievably psyched that you guys could make it!”

Yuuri plasters on a grin. “Yeah,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m so glad to be here!”

He is happy to see Phichit. But he’s also trying not to get arrested for obscenity, as Victor seems to be on a dedicated mission to make happen.

Victor’s fingers ghost along Yuuri’s inner thigh under the table. He’s barely taken his hands off him for two consecutive seconds since they left the onsen.

He’d spent the car ride on the way to the train station tracing featherlight shapes into Yuuri’s palm. When they’d sat down on the train, he’d slipped an arm around Yuuri’s waist and set about stroking his thumb against Yuuri’s skin just under the hem of his shirt — right up until they’d reached Fukuoka. In the airport, he’d leaned over and rested his head on Yuuri’s shoulder, occasionally tilting his face to press soft kisses against Yuuri’s neck whenever no one was looking.

Victor had occupied himself for most of the six hour flight whispering in Yuuri’s ear — heat floods through him just recalling — all the things he’d been thinking about doing to Yuuri and having done to him during their upcoming alone time, lips just barely brushing skin with every word.

In the shuttle to the hotel he'd had his thigh pressed firmly alongside Yuuri’s — in the hotel elevator Yuuri had had to remind him, in a strangled voice, that most likely there was a security camera — and then they'd finally gotten to their room.

…With just enough time to drop off their stuff and make it to their dinner arrangements at the hotel restaurant with Phichit and the others.

“We wouldn't miss it for the world,” Victor adds, squeezing just above Yuuri’s knee. Yuuri fights to stop his eyes from fluttering shut in response.

“I know you must be really busy with the new addition — who knew that's what it would take to finally get Yuuri active on insta?” Phichit squeals. “I've never seen such a cutie. Even when she was a newborn! Most newborns are pretty weird-looking.”

“Yeah, she's really—uh—” Yuuri swallows hard as Victor slides his hand higher. “...great,” he finishes, lamely. He'll gush about Winnie endlessly when he's not in such a compromising position.

Victor rests his chin on his hand, propped up by an elbow on the table. “She's such a sweetheart, too, you wouldn't believe. Photos can't do her justice — they're nothing compared to getting one of those smiles in person. You should come visit!”

How is he so fucking composed?

“It was good to see you at World’s, Yuuri,” Chris says, at his left. “Your Elizaveta is quite the skater.”

Yuri coughs lightly at the other side of the table, and Chris winks at him.

“Yes, yes, you too, Yuri, but we’ve all known that for almost a decade.” Chris’s grin turns sharp. “Besides, she actually managed to keep her quads through to adulthood.”

Yuri puts on a comical exaggeration of his old grouchy teenager face. “Fuck off, geezer!”

Chris laughs, and Yuri breaks character to join in. Even Otabek has a ghost of a grin forming.

Yuuri clears his throat. “Good to see you too, Chris. And I’ll pass that along to her.”

Victor yawns loudly. “The chronic baby-related sleep deprivation has worn me down, I’m afraid. How about we call it an early night, Yuuri? And have some nice, long, uninterrupted… sleep.”

Phichit makes a shooing gesture. “Yeah, get going, guys! Dinner’s on me!”

Chris bats his eyelashes. “Sleep well, you two,” he says, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

Read on Ao3

Is there another teaser for assassin I just need a little something then I promise I’ll get better🤧

Oh fine, but only because you asked so nicely 🤧 After this, though, I’m done posting teasers so ya’ll are just gon have to wait!!!

This teaser is a continuation of THIS teaser.

-

Shawn gulped and nodded reluctantly, turning off the light to his room and closing it behind himself. One man stood in front of Shawn and the other in back to ensure that he didn't run anywhere or try anything. But after seeing how cruel the people here could be and consistently hearing the echoed screams through the walls, he knew better than to try anything anyway.

The hallways were eerie at this time of night. It was far past curfew and the lights were so dim they may just as well be nonexistent. No sounds whatsoever could be heard throughout the entire base, save for a leaky pipe here and there, dripping a constant rhythm.

Shawn's eyebrows furrowed deeply when he was led to the familiar office of Mr.Kim, his recruiter, his boss, and his benefactor. The guards halted and positioned themselves on either side of the door, nodding for him to enter.

He cleared his throat before nervously turning the handle, entering his boss' domain.

Mr.Kim was sitting at his desk in the middle of the room, hands roaming over a large pile of files, folders, and other things. He waved Shawn over when he saw him still at the doorway, reluctant to go sit down.

"Yes, sir?" Shawn politely greeted, taking a seat in the uncomfortable metal chair on the other side of the desk.

"Mendes." He grins, clasping his hands together. "How was Ibiza?"

Shawn gulped, face contorting into one of confusion. "It was good. I didn't have much trouble locating the suspect."

"How are your wounds?"

"Healing, none fatal. I can move around easily. It's just a minor inconvenience."

Mr.Kim nods, placing a single manila folder in front of Shawn. "That's good to hear, because I have another mission for you."

Shawn's eyes nearly pop out of his skull and he begins to shake his head, "With all due respect, sir, I only got back from the last one 3 days ago-"

"Mendes, you're a smart man." Mr.Kim interrupts, now looking down at the folder. "You're quick, thorough, and swift. You're quickly becoming one of the best we have here, and this is the mission of a lifetime. I want you to do this for me. I don't trust anyone else."

Shawn doesn't seemed convinced, biting his cheek as the man's words replayed in his head.

"This will move you up to the top ranks, Mendes." Mr.Kim continues his appeal, "You'll get your own area of the base, sectioned off from everyone else with the other big names in here. You'll get your money too- your biggest check yet."

"How much are we talking?"

"3 billion."

Shawn chokes on air at the obscene number, not sure if he'd heard the man correctly. "Who the hell am I smuggling, the president?!"

"Close."

Mr.Kim opened the file and slid Shawn a picture of the person.

"The president's daughter."

Shawn's jaw is slack and he's sure he's gaping like a fish as he studies everything about the girl. His fingertips run over the picture and he shakes his head, "I don't know, Mr.Kim. This doesn't feel right. What has she got to do with anything?"

"Since when have you ever let morals get in the way of money?" Mr.Kim squinted at Shawn, slightly disappointed in his resilience. "She's got nothing to do with it directly. The other party wants to tear the president down so that he loses this upcoming election, and they figure the only way to do this is to attack what's closest to him. They're paying big money for this. She's a bargaining chip, that's all."

"And what are you gonna do with her when you have her?" Shawn questions. It's not that he cared, but still in the pit of his stomach, something felt off.

Mr.Kim evades the question, smirking gently. "Now, Shawn, you know I can't just tell you everything yet. Are you in, or are you out? And I encourage you to think rationally about this."

Shawn bit the inside of his cheek as Mr.Kim slid him the familiar mission contract paper, beckoning him to sign the dotted line.

Mr.Kim is right, Shawn thought to himself, I've never let my morals stop me, and today won't be the day that I do.

Shawn picks up the pen and signs the contract, tossing the guilt he felt for essentially throwing away this helpless girl's life.

It's only business.

He sat back in the chair and watched as Mr.Kim began to pull out more and more files, spreading them all across the desk.

He cleared his throat before speaking, pulling out a few pictures of the white house. "You're going to go undercover as [Y/N] [Y/L/N]'s bodyguard and stay in the white house. Bond with her, gain her trust, but make sure she doesn't suspect anything. When the signal is given, you take her and bring her to the drop off point. Simple as that."

"How am I going to become a bodyguard for the president's daughter?!" Shawn asks, still trying to grasp the whole situation.

"As far as they're concerned, you already are. They're expecting you in 2 days." Mr.Kim explained, next pulling out a bunch of fake IDs, driver's licenses, a birth certificate, army documents, and other scarily official-looking documents. Shawn's headshot was plastered all over the faked documents, and that's when he noticed the name on all of the fakes.

"Ian Gould.." He muttered under his breath, in awe of how intricate everything was made.

"Welcome to the world, Mr.Gould." Mr.Kim smirked menacingly.

-

That next morning at 5 a.m., Mr.Kim led him to one of the most private rooms in the whole base- Not even Shawn had ever stepped foot in it until today.

It was dim, just like every other area of the base, but the lights hanging from the ceiling served more as spotlights for the weapons and equipment hung up on the walls.

The guards shut the heavy door and left Shawn and Mr.Kim to talk in private.

"Listen closely, because I'm not going to repeat myself- No time for that." Mr.Kim reinforces, walking over to the first wall to the left. He points out the array of 5 suits that all looked the same- Solid black, elegant, and expensive. "These are your uniforms. You'll alternate between these every day and wash them as necessary. With them, you're protected with a thin bulletproof layer, and a microphone is embedded in the chest pocket. Through that, we'll be able to hear everything that goes on in the white house."

"How will you be able to receive the data all the way from Washington D.C.?" Shawn questions, glaring at the suits.

"You won't be the only one in the house." Mr.Kim continues with a nod, "We'll have one undercover chef, and they'll be the one to give you the signal and collect the data. We'll discuss that further in our later briefing."

The man continues to show him how to work the new equipment and then it's on to the briefing where many more people joined the two of them at a large conference table, files spread out everywhere.

It'd been 10 hours straight in the room going over procedures and drills- What Shawn was expected to do in certain situations, where he was supposed to bring the girl after the signal is given, what exactly the signals were, and much, much more.

Everything seemed relatively simple. Tomorrow, he'd be driven across the Canadian border and to Washington D.C. where he'll live under the alias Ian Gould until the mission is completed. He's to live in the White House and wait for the signal to initiate the plan, which could take days, weeks, months, or maybe even a year. However, Shawn had been trained to be diligent and patient, so his higher-ups put a good amount of faith in him.

"Before we leave, there's one last thing to discuss." One of the men, a boss in the facility, pipes up. He clears his throat and looks around at everyone at the table until he lands on Shawn with a hard glare. "Should things go wrong, you may need to initiate a Plan B."

"Which is?" Shawn asks, slightly nervous at the tone of the man's voice.

"Should things come to it, you may have to execute [Y/N] [Y/L/N]."

This morning in lines I loved writing...

BUT HEAVY ASS SPOILERS FOR UNPOSTED PARTS OF BLACKBIRDS, SO PLEASE DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILED.

Patient is a male zabrak/human hybrid (Dathomirian), approx. 33 y.o., diagnosed with TRSD (complex) with comorbid generalized anxiety disorder--

Reading one's medical records was eerie.  Not all beings had access to theirs; of those who did, not everyone wanted to read them.  Maul had never even thought to before; had always assumed that it was, ironically, not his concern.  Or that they would ultimately be incorrect.  Or that they would make unfounded assumptions.

It came as something of a shock that any part of him had held onto the concern that he was a pet project to those who professed to care about him.  It took seeing himself described in dispassionate medical speak to realize that he even had held onto it.

"I'm not traumatized," he tried to tell Tally, angry and agitated.  Tally had no issue whatsoever handing over his records for his perusal, and then had started making sandwiches while Maul got hot under the collar reading them.  "And I'm not--" he started, before snapping his mouth shut; he was going to say he wasn't anxious, but he knew trying to claim that would be a bald-faced lie.  Then, he just repeated, "I'm not traumatized."

"Who are you trying to convince, Lieu?" Tally asked back, glancing back at him with furrowed brows.

Vokara Che had been the one to diagnose that -- trauma-related stress disorder -- late the prior year, but Maul knew Tally had probably been the one who pushed her into doing so.  The Jedi healers didn't regularly, formally diagnose mental illnesses, despite being legally able to.  Maul didn't remember that period all that well, either; like he had early on in the Temple, he had retreated largely inwards after his cybernetics broke down so critically, trying to hold onto the integrity of himself by any means necessary once he had been cut loose again from the Halls of Healing.  He didn't entirely do so, he was still as there for his squad as he could be, but it was another period of his life where he had felt cast adrift, letting the currents take him wherever they would.

Sometime while he was still in recovery, he had a feeling his medic had taken the healer to task.  And thus the formal record trail, on his mental state.

"You got her to put this in here," he said, wrestling with-- everything, and feeling frantic just to manage something.

Tally paused in his food-making and turned back to lean against the counter, looking at him.  To say Maul was cross with him would have been an understatement, but Tally didn't flinch. "You didn't answer my question: Who are you trying to convince?"

"You."  The second he said it, Maul realized how foolish he sounded, and then had to deal with some self-disgust on top of the anger and frustration.

Tally only nodded, then asked, "Why are you trying to convince me?"

And to that, Maul had no answer.

He didn't know.  He didn't know.  He just got up and flung a hand in the air, not even frustration at Tally so much as everything and left the room to find something to do with himself, and quickly, before he ended up losing his grip again.

It was another case where his choices were either to retreat or to scream.

Why I loved writing it: Because sociology.  Outside of the mystical Force stuff, there’s science and mental health professions and someone on some planet recognized the GFFA equivalents of PTSD and C-PTSD.  Which, let’s face it, Maul’s about the poster child for.

But also, I love how damned mad he is here.  And through a lot of this time.  It’s not a 100% rational anger, it’s not a I need to harness the Dark Side anger, it’s the kind that comes when you’re healing, but you’re not doing it as fast as you want to, and also the kind that comes when you start to really grasp some of the injustices you’ve suffered.

And I love how Tally takes it.  And how he responds to it.  He doesn’t condemn it (and in an earlier section, actually reassures over it), he doesn’t list off any reasons why Maul shouldn’t be angry.  But he also asks a really important set of questions there: Who are you trying to convince and why?  It’s part of the really damned long journey of de-and-reconstruction going on; in Maul’s mind, this is normally classified as weakness, straight up pathetic, so being challenged on that is, obviously, important.

Anyway.  Have a hella spoilery snippet at 6AM.  And if you did go and spoil yourself, feel free to tell me what lines you’ve loved writing, either recently or long ago.

let’s talk about sonny in 19.15

going to get back to asks/prompts tomorrow, but I’m super tired all of a sudden. to tide y’all over I thought I’d share this mini fic I wrote last night based on the events of 19.15  //

FINALLY watched this week’s episode & I have some Thoughts™  re Sonny x reader:

-you know something is seriously wrong when Sonny shows up at your apartment late on Wednesday with a tense, distraught look on his face & none of the characteristic peppy energy.

-‘can I come in?’ is the first thing he says when you open the door, with a harshness in his voice you’ve never heard aimed in your direction before

-you nod, already gesturing him in because aside from the body language & the tone he’s never hesitated to come in before. ‘sonny, of course. come in. is everything okay? it’s 11pm.’

-you shut & lock the door behind him, assuming he’s spending the night. he’s shaking his head no, hands roughly running through his hair as he begins to pace

-‘no, it’s not. I found out today that my niece was raped. three months ago. the school had some, some kinda tribunal or whatever the hell and found him guilty today. but the scumbag is only suspended for a year. suspended!’

-you’re completely shocked by the news & go to make your way over to him before he cuts you off with a flung out hand. ‘and the best part? my sister is just now telling me. today! months after the fact! I don’t know what the hell she was thinking keeping this from me! I’m going to kill this guy-suspended?! he deserves to go to prison!’ he continues, gesturing largely with his hands as he loosens his tie.

-‘I’m so sorry, sonny. I’m so sorry. this isn’t your fault, not at all babe. sonny, come on. let’s get you out of this suit. let’s get some food in you, okay? we can sit & talk some more. I’ll call out of work tomorrow if I need to, alright? I’m going to make you some tea. come here, let me—‘ ‘I don’t want any tea, (y/n)! I don’t wanna-I don’t wanna eat thai food & pretend like this is okay & just—just-listen. I’m thinking rationally, alright? you don’t need to try to talk me off the ledge like I’m some kinda loose cannon, ‘ he interrupts.

-you make your way over to him, despite how tightly wound he is & how his gestures get more agitated as he speaks.’hey, hey-hey! I’m on your side, sonny. I’m on your team. I’m here for you. you came to me tonight. you came here & I just want to-‘ ‘maybe I shouldn’t have come. I can go back to my apartment. I’m upsetting you. I apologize,’ he interrupts again, going to brush by you to leave.

-‘stop, dominick,’ you grab his arm before he can take two steps, ‘I want you here. I’m glad you came here,’ you say, tugging at his arm to force him to look at you. ‘but you didn’t come here to self-destruct-you would have gone home alone if you wanted to do that. you came here because you trust me, & I trust you, and you know I’m going to look after you.’ ‘I can take care of myself. it was wrong of me to come here when I’m as angry as I am,’ he replies firmly.

-‘if you want to walk out of that door you can. I won’t stop you again. but if you want to stay, you can. I’m not afraid of your anger, but I am afraid of you being alone right now and I’d like you to stay. please,’ you beseech him.

-he studies your face & must see something in his eyes because all of a sudden the fire that was brimming over goes right out. his body goes limp & he brings a hand up to his face, dropping your gaze. you go to him and he wraps his arms around you. with his mouth muffled against the side of your head he murmurs, ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I’m so—angry. I feel so helpless. I feel like I let my family down. I didn’t know where else to go.’

-‘you can always come here, sonny. always. will you sit down for me?’ you ask. he nods & you lead him to the couch. he begins to loosen his tie with one hand, the other arm still around you, before you gently knock his fingers away from his neck. ‘I got this. you just sit there, amore mio.* hmm? I got you,’ you murmur as you continue to loosen it. he takes his gun & badge off and sets them on the coffee table. shoes are absentmindedly toed off. you unbutton his vest next, shifting to give him room to shrug off the jacket before shedding the layer underneath.

-he leans back again with a strong exhale, the hand not around you is tapping erratically on his knee. he won’t hold eye contact with you, but his grip around your waist is firm.

-‘I just feel like I gotta do something, y’know? like I’m just wasting time sitting here not doing a single thing,’ he slashes the air with his other hand, voice lower but still full of pain. you reach a hand out to turn his face so that he looks at you instead of across the room. ‘you’re doing something right now. you believe her. you support her. you’re advocating for her. and now you’re going to recharge & rest so that when you go back to work you can be helpful, not rundown. you’re going to let me take care of you and you’re going to take a shower and you’re going to sleep right next to me and know that I believe you. I support you. I know you’ll figure out what to do because you’re a smart man & you’re exactly the detective I would want on my case if I was in that position.’

-‘please, don’t even put that image in my head. not if you want me to come down off the ceiling sometime tonight. I’m going to take a shower,’ he goes to stand, turning to look back at you still sitting on the couch. his face softens, ‘that offer for tea still stand? I’ll make the shower quick & meet you in bed?’

-you quirk up the corner of your lips slightly & nod. ‘I’ll meet you in bed, detective.’

-you sit a little longer as he heads to the bathroom. it’s only after you hear the water running for a couple of moments that you go to make tea for you both.

-he comes out of the shower in boxer briefs, still damp around the ears with hair all over his head. he crawls into the bed in the side closest to the door. you’re reading & glance up quickly before finishing your sentence & placing the bookmark in its place on the page you were reading, ‘made you the bedtime tea,’ you tell him as you stretch to put your book on the nightstand and grab your own tea.

-you turn back to him & he’s looking at you intensely. he gently takes your mug from your hands & places it on the bedside table next to him, not even needing to turn to know exactly where it was without spilling tea. ‘doll, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t even greet you or ask how your day was or if I was interrupting your evening. you just let me come in & I acted like an asshole. I did this wrong,’ he tells you, cupping your face in one of his hands. he tucks hair behind your ear while studying your face.

-‘you don’t need to apologize, sonny. I know how much you love your family. I can only imagine how upset you feel. I don’t expect you to be perfect, I’m here for you,’ you reply. ‘yeah, I love my family. but I love you, too and you don’t deserve how I came in here. thank you for being here for me, it means the world,’ he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. one of your hands reaches up to grasp his forearm as you kiss him back. ‘cuore mio,’ ** you murmur, ‘Sei l’uomo dei miei sogni.’

-‘fuck, you know how much it kills me to hear you speak in Italian,’ he manages to get out between kisses. ‘well I mean it. in Italian & English. you’re the love of my life. my heart. my sunshine. hmm? I’ve got you, I’ve got y-‘ he cuts you off with more kisses, deepening the kiss as he draws you down into the bed with him over you. ‘you’re mine. Mi hai cambiato la vita.*** I promise I’ll always keep you safe. I promise. Ti voglio sempre al mio fianco,’ ****he insists. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Dominick. I’m right here. I’m safe. come on, let’s drink some tea. you need to get some rest.’

-he reluctantly rolls off of you & sits up. handing you back your tea and wrapping you up in one arm, holding you tightly against his chest. he grabs his tea once your hands are securely around your own cup. he nuzzles into your temple, alternating between pressing kisses to it in between sips of tea. he begins to tell you some stories of mia when she was a baby as he calms down even more.

-he finishes his tea & sets the mug down again before saying, ‘I’m going to get this guy, (y/n). I have to.’ ‘I believe you. but at the end of the day, no matter what happens, this is not your fault. you’re a great uncle, an incredible brother & a wonderful boyfriend,’ you reply quietly. he lets a beat go by, ‘yeah. I guess.’ another beat, ‘I don’t know how long this investigation is going to last or what state of mind I’ll be in, & I’ll understand if you say ‘no’ so there’s no pressure, doll. none whatsoever. but if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be able to come back here everyday. just while this investigation is going on-I swear I’m not trying to move in. I’d be much smoother about that-I /will/ be one day. I just, I need to not be alone with my thoughts at the end of the night.’

-you turn your head slightly so you can look up at him again. he looks a little nervous & you lean up to kiss the side of his chin. ‘you can stay here as long as you need to. I’ll even give you my spare keys.’

-he exhales loudly, closing his eyes briefly in relief. ‘thank you, doll’ he says as he gently tilts your chin up for a kiss. ‘let’s go to sleep. I know you’ve got work tomorrow-or rather later on today. don’t want to keep you up any longer.’

-you both shift slightly, turning the lamps out on your respective sides. you lay your head on his chest as he wraps his arm back around you. his hand traces patterns on your back. ‘close your eyes, babe. let your brain rest for a couple of hours, hmm? let me recite some poetry to you until you fall asleep,’ you tell him, sensing that his eyes were still open. he hums in response & relaxes slightly.

-you close your eyes before beginning in a steady, quiet voice, ‘

S'un casto amor, s'una pietà superna,***** S'una fortuna infra dua amanti equale, S'un'aspra sorte all'un dell'altro cale, S'un spirto, s'un voler duo cor governa; S'un'anima in duo corpi è fatta etterna, Ambo levando al cielo e con pari ale; S'amor c'un colpo e d'un dorato strale Le viscer di duo petti arda e discerna; S'amar l'un l'altro, e nessun se medesmo, D'un gusto e d'un diletto, a tal mercede, C'a un fin voglia l'uno e l'altro porre; Se mille e mille non sarien centesmo A tal nodo d'amore, a tanta fede; E sol l'isdegno il può rompere e sciorre…’ *

--🌸

*my love

**my heart // you’re the man of my dreams

***You changed my life

****I want you always by my side

****If there is a chaste love, a heavenly pity, an equal fortune between two lovers, a bitter fate shared by both, and if a single spirit and one will governs two hearts; if one soul in two bodies is made eternal, raising both to heaven on the same wings; if love with one blow and one golden arrow can burn and pierce two hearts to the core; if each loves the other rather than himself, with a pleasure and delight so rewarding, that to the same end they both strive; if thousands upon thousands are not worth a hundredth part of such a loving bond of such a faith; then shall anger alone break and dissolve it?

obsession vs. stimulation

content note: description of obsessive compulsive behaviors, gaslighting and dismissiveness I’ll get to the point I had about mental illness and SPD soon... Ah, I’m soooo sleepy listening to whale lullabies...but my brain is very hyper processing all the information I’ve absorbed today and wanting to get it out and express the clarity it gives me. I need understanding so I’ve began blogging after an dissatisfying experience when my friend “called me out” for shutting down and I basically acknowledged their feelings of frustration and tried to be understanding of their unwillingness to understand my experience and believe my true intentions/sympathize with my feelings about being unable to perform socially. So I felt very unheard and there was some ableist notions going around based on their incomplete knowledge of what all disabilities affect me. Sigh...we all have our own obstacles around trust I guess.  That experience isn;t relevant to this blurb but, it has inspired me to take positive action and get to explaining myself in my own personal space, where I have general blogzone consent to discuss my mind.  So, I think I’m in a position to elucidate this since I have always been neurodivergent and also experienced OCD at one point, which more or less dissolved with treatment(though I never received therapy to help me integrate better with my brain type. which creates a sitch you see, b/c ocd is a behavioral therapy thing{CBT} focused on reducing behaviors, and NDV is just the way someone is, and a cure is n/a. the adults had a tendency to blame everything on the ocd and push me to get over it. for another thing, forcing exposure to something a kid is “OCD about” is cruel anyway.) It is said these disorders are a desperate attempt at control. There was a misconception: it was my body, my environment as an extension of my body, not other people or details of life I wanted to control. I remember being at a point, where I was anorexic and O-C and tapping things a certain number of times so y mom wouldn’t die. checking the locks 25 times because i wouldn’t want it to be my fault if someone broke in.(was i shamed for forgetfulness?)  Doing those things felt absolutely horrible. They gnawed at me. Doing them gave me no relief whatsoever, no matter how many times I did them. I was motivated by anxiety, from my mind down. checking never did anything for my body. They ate up all my time and strength.  On the other hand,  I’ve had certain unusual behaviors, even as a young child. just some of the things which may have been misread as obsessions:  stretching out the necks of tshirts and ripping my clothes to make them fit comfortably. crying over tights, lotion, and clippers. having one cd and one movie. acting incredibly stubborn about things i didn’t like. making piles of pillows and getting in the middle. punching the sofa as hard as i could and not getting why, just one sudden wave of internalized frustration and shame for doing those things erupting. swinging my arms around rolling on the floor and being told it was inappropriate. hating the scent of popcorn and bacon and having to cover it up to deal. developing multiple chemical sensitivity. playing with squishy things in class, having a bag of them i always carried. being unable to tune out background noise but repeating back rote both my book i was reading and the conversations happening around me as I read. a teacher having to remind me to use the bathroom or i’d wet my pants.  the difference is, i was averse to things because they felt horrible, even painful, just incredibly stressful on me. i adjusted things to be more comfortable. it doesn’t mean i have a horrible fear of them that makes me neurotically avoidant and irrationally angry about it. it means they are legitimately painful b/c i am profoundly sensitive and that’s ok. it’s just who i am. it’s a god’given gift. (tho i personally have a theory that the modern world is just too intense and inconsiderate period and typical people can let it make them numb somehow. ;)) i have a right to be free of physical torment. at the most basic level, when i freaked out over pain, i was communicating distress and asserting my right to humane ness. any anxiety i have around sensory overload is the result of many painful experiences and the actual unpredictability of when i will be floored by something/being stripped of my ability to control what hurts me and dictate my energy level. there is a very real loss of security which comes with this issue, which I have mourned for much.  it is not, i am worrying too much and not that I just care too much, not that i can get over it but am afraid of doing so, not that i am obsessed with stimuli, and NOT that I am a monster or lack empathy. (not to imply negative judgement on OCD!) note that with OCD, my thoughts motivated my actions but didn’t help. With stims, my actions regulate my thoughts. With overstims, an event creates distress. not only can *I* tell the difference, there is an obvious, simple logical distinction.  despite anyone who says that i am still mentally ill therefore i cannot make “sane” rational analysis.(b/c, duh, I’m just obsessed and full of excuses!/sarcasm) While I no longer see myself as OCD or do anything which qualifies other than dermatillomania, and have moved on thanks to circumstances and also my felicitous spirit and luck, I still have the same experience of sensory processing disorder(and other things which interact with it.)

I have more success respecting it as a beautiful but challenging aspect of my body rather than treating it as something which can magically cease to exist or is something i /couldashouldawoulda just ignore so I can find a job and have enough executive functioning capacity. or pretending its something curable and investing in the wrong therapy/a therapist who doesn’t have a sufficient grasp of co-morbidity and may gaslight and pressure me further. Boy, I wish I could. I wish I could just got and do whatever occurs to me, but that’s another story. In good news, it’s nice to have a relationship with family members who love me anyway, even when they don’t understand, even when we’ve accidentally hurt each other.  there is so much more to write on the relationship between my experiences, and perhaps I could even write something about what my friend didn’t understand,  but I must rest. much cat stuff to do tomorrow. meeeowl.  another unedited stream of thought...blogs are fun.

★.•**•.★ NEW RELEASE CHAPTER BLOG TOUR ★.•**•.★

YES ! We get to have Gina Wynn’s Newest release What You Wish For. Part 1

Readers, every day you get a snippet of chapter 1. Don’t forget to follow so you don’t miss a bit.

Title: What you wish for

Author: Gina Wynn

Genre: Romantic, Woman Fiction

Release Date: May 12

Tour Date: May 9 - 12

Hosted By Teaser Addicts PR

BLURB

When Maggie Forrester wakes up naked in bed with her boss, iceman Will Brian, she's sure it must be a dream. Or a feverish hallucination at the very least. But magic takes over when she begins to experience an impossible other life—complete with an alternate husband—and she's forced to confront the reality of the man she loves versus the man she's fallen in love with.

After secrets she believed long buried surface, both of Maggie's realities are threatened. As the truth of her past comes to light, she must decide which man she truly loves and which life she wants to live—if the choice is even hers to make. Sometimes, true love is even worth wishing for.

GOODREADS LINK :http://bit.ly/2pzrpOF

Preorder Today, Available on all platforms.

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https://play.google.com/store/books/detailsGina_Wynn_What_You_Wish_For?id=A3y-DgAAQBAJ&hl=en

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http://decadentpublishing.com/pre-order-now-what-you-wish-for/

Chapter 1 Part 1

His knee rested against the back of my leg. A possessive arm wrapped over my waist, and a forehead nestled against my hair. Jake must have arrived home earlier than he expected from the stag weekend and melded to me during the night. We lay skin against skin, and I relaxed into his hold as warmth and familiarity seeped from him. The bubble of safety only my husband could provide surrounded me.

A smile tugged the corner of my lips as naughty thoughts of pleasure yet-to- come flashed through my head. I didn’t even bother to open my eyes as I wriggled around to return his hug, being sure to inject enough movement to bounce him awake. His chest rose and fell against my cheek with his every breath, and his heartbeat thudded in my ear. Home was where that heart was.

“Good morning, Maggie.” His melted chocolate voice, still drowsy with sleep, tickled my neck.

Not Jake.

Panic jolted me as my eyes flew open, and I launched over the side of the bed, failing in my attempt to look away as I did so. With the long glance I took by mistake, I’d require brain bleach to scrub him from my mind. I huddled out of his line of sight with my stare—strong enough to have burnt a hole through the man—firmly fixed on unfamiliar carpet.

Bloody hell. My boss. All of him. In the bed I’d exited at warp speed.

I risked another quick glance in his direction. He lay propped on his side, dark hair tousled, smiling at me in a new lazy way. Bloody, bloody hell. I repeat, my boss. My boss, Will Brian.

Never Will Brian, always Mr. Brian. I corrected myself to the office formality he insisted on as I tried to look at him without seeing anything but his face. Holy chest skin, Batman. Well-defined muscular temptation in flesh form. Mr. Brian with really sexy bedhead. Bloody hell, again.

The horror crawling through me shut down all rational thought, narrowing my entire focus to the bedroom. His bedroom?

One room. Me. Him.

Nothing else.

The devil had woken up with frostbite. It was the only possible explanation to my world going mad. I inhaled a shaky breath, my brain stuck on one thought. Mr. Brian. Surely, I harboured zero attraction to him? Especially as he favoured issuing orders to me in a snappy coffee-breath voice in our usual day-to-day routine. Waking in his arms was quite the quantum leap from our normal yes, Mr. Brian, of course, Mr. Brian, I’ll hold all your calls, Mr. Brian relationship.

I closed my eyes against the view, although it didn’t help me ignore him. His image had seared itself to the inside of my eyelids, and no girl wanted a permanent reminder of her boss.

Really. No attraction, whatsoever. None at all. Because I’d never noticed his tight, firm... Never mind. Or the way he walked as

I followed him along the corridor at work. Okay. So, I’d taken a non-existent—or maybe ever-so-slight—inappropriate boss fantasy right to sleeping in bed with the man. I’d come a long way.

I’d have said my wisdom was on the line, except ending up in his bed rated way worse than unwise. Spelling Mr. Brian as Mr. Brain on company documents was unwise—and stupid. Filing January invoices in December was unwise—and, according to Mr. Brian, worse than stupid. This...this verged on being very, very bad—and so much more than stupid. Unforgiveable, if I forced myself to be honest.

Note to self: Career suicide—never the way to ask for a pay increase.

“What, no ‘good morning, Will’?” He chuckled, and I didn’t know if my sudden goose bumps came from extreme lack of blankets or the unnervingly attractive sound of his amusement.

His laughter, somehow hauntingly familiar and comforting, wrapped me in unexpected safety. He never laughed at the office or, if he did, he went somewhere private to do it. Either way, he never seemed to find anything funny about working.

In our office.With me at his professional beck and call. The fact I relaxed a little in his presence must have been the result of my

aspirations to find my inner Zen one day. I channelled Yoda and did imaginary breathing exercises, then clamped down on my bubble of hysteria before it rose any

further up my throat. Relaxation, inner calm, and enlightenment? Not likely. I flashed a quick grimace, hoping to trigger the off-switch to my inner-monologue.

“Um. Hi...Will.” My voice came out part mumble, part squeak, as I crouched by the bed, still refusing to look at him as I referred to my always-formal boss by his first name in the most ridiculous of situations.

“Did I scare you?”

I dared a hasty glance, and he arched an eyebrow in amusement. Heat rushed through me, then cold horror as fresh awareness dawned. My buttocks rested on my calves as I squatted. My nipples hardened in the cool air as I huddled outside the covers. I was naked.

The situation couldn’t get worse.

Trying my best for nonchalance, I grasped the closest corner of the duvet and inched it towards me, intent on hiding as much flesh as possible. I released a slow, shallow breath as each fractional movement concealed more of my awkward form.

“Hey!” With laughter in his tone, he snagged the high thread-count covers back to his side of the bed. “You’re making me cold!”

I risked another peek over at him before searing afresh at his identical extreme lack of clothes. Naked...in bed. Oh God, naked in bed with my naked boss. No memory of getting there. And I’d started to grow cold again, too.

Note to self: Things could always get worse. Always.

DONT FORGET TO GO OVER THE BLOGS BELOW FOR PART 2 TOMORROW

The Awesome Participating Blogs, Authors and Fans (WE Thank You xx)

*Bitches N' Books

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*Nana Prah, Author

*Brittany's Book Blog

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*Paranormal Palace of Pleasures

*AC Squared Book Blog

*Lisa Everyday Life

*Louise Hallett

AUTHOR BIO

From a magical land of castles and kings (Okay, it’s England), Gina doesn’t feel as old as she looks, owns three children who can’t be tamed, and writes in spare – usually stolen – time. She sometimes bakes—not always with quite the desired results, and has found the only solution to keeping the characters in her head quiet is to placate them with lots of other lovely books and worlds. She has been published by Decadent Publishing, who currently have two of her books, both of which are romance titles – “Her Dollmaker’s Desire” and “Her Undercover Christmas”.

Social Media Links:

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/ginawriteswords/

Twitter: @Gina_Wynn on Twitter

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2nN13Iz

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Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/ginawriteswords/

Website: http://ginawriteswords.com/

Email: [email protected]