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ja3yun · 3 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.1

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: heavily suggestive, kissing, perv!hoon, mentions of self doubt and overthinking, yn's mum is an asshole, anything else lmk! ch.1 synopsis: when circumstances unexpectedly bring you and your brother's long-time ice skating rival, park sunghoon, together, you discover a surprising connection. However, your brother forbids any relationship between you. Will you heed his advice or follow your heart? wc: 14.3k masterlist | next a/n: hi! first chapter is finally here and i hope you all like it. each chapter will be released on friday and roughly between 10k - 16k (since people wanted longer chapters, however, i am open to any feedback regarding lengths). enjoy and please leave any comments/likes/reblogs if you wish !! also, peep the new header

‘We’re dancing, dancing, dancing in the moonlight.'

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the cocoon of sleep, and you groan into your pillow. The idea of getting up before 6 am feels like a crime, yet here you are, abruptly awakened at 4:30 am by the dulcet tones of TO1.

With a begrudging sigh, you reach for your phone, dismissing the alarm, and then collapse back, staring at the ceiling. This routine has been a part of your life since childhood, and you'd think you'd be accustomed to it by now. However, no matter how early you sleep, removing yourself from the warmth of your bed remains a daily struggle.

You can hear your brother and mum scooting around downstairs, their usual ‘Do you have everything?’, ‘Where are the car keys?’, ‘Get your sister’ conversations louder than they need to be at this time in the day. The last one does mean you better get a move on and go downstairs.

While you put on your peach-flavoured chapstick, your brother bursts into your room, “Hurry up, Y/N.” His eyes roll and he slams the door shut as quickly as he opens it.

You have had the same routine since you were 6 years old. Same exchanges, same panic, same everything.

Minhee, your older brother, is the reason you have this same routine. When he was 6 years old, Mum took you and him ice skating for the first time and he was a natural. His feet took to the ice like fish to water, like chocolate to strawberries, like you to garlic bread. It was fated. By 7 years old he was already training and what was once a fun hobby turned into a gruelling regime of early rises and the need for a good winter jacket.

“2 minutes!” You shout down to them, one quick glance over in the mirror to make sure you look presentable.

Running down the stairs you’re greeted by your impatient mum tapping her foot, “Come on, Y/N we really can’t be late today. Coach Kim needs us there as soon as possible. Big announcement.” Her hands are flapping around animated as she speaks, “I think he’s finally going to let Minhee try that quadruple axel we’ve been begging him to let him do for Nationals!”

Your brother looks disinterested, “Mum, he’s already said it’s out of my depth.” His tone is bitter.

Minhee was amazing at ice skating, winning so many medals your mum had you move out of your double room to the box one so she could display them all. By 10 he was the youngest ever in your city to reach state championships and by 14 he was competing at the National level. It did make him the golden, silver, and bronze child in your family, but you didn’t mind all that much - not that you would tell her it did.

It’s not like you’re doing anything half as impressive as winning trophies, now that was what your mother truly found pride in. You could become a CEO or a lawyer but if you couldn’t hit a toe loop worthy of gold it wouldn’t impress her.

You did try skating when you were younger but it was like you turned into Bambi, never able to find your feet. Even when it snows in winter you can’t hold yourself up. Deep down your mum hoped you would be just like Minhee, creating an opportunity for you both to branch into pair figure skating like the Shib Sibs but no matter how many times Minhee tried to teach you or she got his coach to give you a few free pointers, you couldn’t do it. She’s disappointed and quite frankly you think she holds a grudge against you for not being anything like your amazing, spectacular, talented brother.

But you still loved to watch the sport, how efficiently and painlessly each skater would glide across the ice and do manoeuvres that defied gravity. It was a magical sport, so when your mum dragged you along to every practice because she couldn’t afford a babysitter, you didn’t mind all that much.

Tying up your final lace you stand up from the bottom step and Minhee passes you your black jacket with faux fur lining. You mutter a quick ‘thanks’ before grabbing your book bag and all three of you head to the car.

"What if it's the Olympics!" Squealing, your mother fastens her seatbelt. What if it was the Olympics? Despite consistently finishing in the top three, if not first, in most major competitions in his teenage years, his coach never selected him for the Youth Olympic Games. But now that he’s 20 years old, he could compete in the Olympics.

Your brother looks sideways at your mother and widens his eyes, "You think so?" It was his dream to make it to the Olympics, and even if he didn't win, he wanted to experience everything; the different country, being surrounded by the best of the best - he had been planning his routine for it forever.

There is a little envious man who climbs up on your shoulder from time to time when conversations like this happen. Of course, you would be so happy for Minhee, after all, he works harder than anyone you know but you wish it was you. Not necessarily the skating part, but to be so good at something you have a goal and dreams that take you to the top. Just something to make you feel alive.

You’re in your 2nd year of University studying Events and Marketing after your mum said it would be good for you to learn how to pitch reasons why Minhee would be a great brand ambassador. So you did it to please her. Honestly, you actually do enjoy it, you won’t lie about that, but the lack of appreciation for your efforts goes unnoticed 99% of the time. The 1% was when you got to shadow a boss at a Nike headquarters branch a few cities over.

“Get a good word in for Minhee while you’re there!”

She was proud of you that day.

As the car rolls up to the rink’s parking lot your mother turns serious, “If this is about choosing you for the Olympics, Min, you need to act excited and unexpectant, they may be filming a behind-the-scenes documentary on your journey to a gold medal.”

Image. Your mum was big on keeping Minhee’s reputation on brand. Right now his ‘brand’ is being humble and noble.

“Yes mum,” he salutes, “Smile and flutter.” Winking and smirking as he mocks his usual signature poses causes you to laugh but your mum finds nothing funny and her change in aura scares both of you out of the car.

_____

The usually quiet ice rink is filled with chatter and chaos, with over 20 people speaking over each other. Minhee looks down at you and you shrug. None of you had any clue what was going on but if your years of watching Detective Conan paid off you would say that whatever caused this commotion was the reason the coach asked Minhee to come in as quickly as possible.

Customarily, at this time in the morning, it’s Minhee’s solo practice hours to work on his routine for Nationals so this many people here is concerning.

“Listen!” Coach Kim’s voice bellowed around the arena putting the chattering to a halt, “I know this is untimely and inconvenient, trust me, it is for me too,” Your eyes follow his and see another coach standing about 2 meters from him, “But we need to make this work and to do that I need you to listen to me.”

As your family approaches the disarray, Coach Kim beckons you all forward. Minhee is the first to ask the all too important question, “What’s going on, Coach?” The people behind you scatter and begrudgingly tread out of the building, their faces glum and disgruntled.

“Minhee, Ms. Kang, Y/N,” Coach Kim greets you all, “Sorry about all that, although telling them was a lot less scary than you.”

“What? Is this place shutting down?” Minhee jokes but by the look on Coach Kim’s face he isn’t far off.

“Not exactly.” Scratching his neck, Coach Kim looks everywhere but Minhee’s eyes, “You know the Albion Centre? The rink on the other side of town?” All three of you nod despite that he’s only talking to your brother, “Well the council had a little meeting last week and they’re turning it fully into a Hockey training centre.”

The words sit in the air as he hopes Minhee will come to the conclusion himself, “So what? Just means more time for skating here right? If all the Hockey team are going over there?”

Sighing, the coach nods, “For sure, but it also means every skater from there will be, well, here.” He gestures around and then points half-heartedly at the other Coach who is stepping forward.

“Kang Minhee, it’s great to meet you properly, I’ve heard nothing but great things,” he extends his hand which your brother accepts, still dazed from the information, “I’m Coach Lee.”

“Wait so, EVERY skater in the town will be here? in Belmore? Coach Kim, that's not possible, my training time will be cut!” Minhee is sulking but you don’t blame him. This is a fucked up situation.

Coach Lee answers, “Not true, Minhee, with the Hockey team over at Albion it frees up some ice time, you’ll get to train more if you want to.”

“And! No more shield guards around the rink, you always hated those!” Coach Kim smiles and playfully punches his chest.

There is something the Coaches aren’t telling him. Like they’re presenting him with all the benefits before hitting him with a bombshell. You know it and for sure your mother knows it. She has been eerily quiet throughout the whole exchange, if there is one thing more unsettling than her shouting, it’s her silence.

“Albion, huh?” She steps forward and tapers her eyes, “Isn’t that the rink where the Parks are located? And aren’t you Lee Jaeho? The coach of that snake ‘Ice Prince’?”

Tension spreads around everyone’s shoulders, the Coaches can’t look at her, and none of you move.

A loud click echoes throughout the rink as someone walks through the door.

“Coach what the fuck?” The voice booms behind you, “Why did I have to drive almost an hour to come here, why couldn’t we just meet at Albi?”

Park Sunghoon.

What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? His mother shuffles in behind him, vocalising her own distaste for being here as if it were the most inconvenient thing in the world. Little do they know…

It’s like the world stops when Sunghoon and Minhee see each other and not in a rom-com way, “What the fuck is HE doing here?” Sunghoon points to Minhee, not taking his eyes off him.

“This is MY rink, Park.”

Sunghoon and Minhee have been competitors since they were 9 years old. Each of them competes against one another in every competition, always striving for first place. It began as healthy competition, and they were even friends at one point, but as they grew older and each mother became increasingly determined to claim their kid was superior to the others, a rivalry developed. If one of them did something, the other had to outdo it tenfold.

When Minhee learned how to do a double axel, Sunghoon learned a triple. When Sunghoon landed his Euler jumps, Minhee was landing an Euler but following it up with a Salchow. When Minhee won the Junior Silver Medal in 2015, Sunghoon won the Junior Gold Medal in 2016.

It was always like this.

Their similarities didn’t help either, both 20, towering at 6”0, and blessed with faces that effortlessly drew admiring glances from girls. Objectively, you’ve only really seen the attraction to Sunghoon given that Minhee is your brother, however, you're not blind to the bevvy of girls who gravitate towards him either. This is precisely why your mother insisted on Minhee maintaining his brand, which stood in stark contrast to Sunghoon's.

He wasn’t rude or stuck up, actually from what you’ve perceived from afar, he is kind and gentle. But unlike your brother's ‘humble’ persona, Sunghoon knows he’s good and will tell anyone about it. Sunghoon’s confidence is easily mistaken for haughtiness. He can come across as arrogant and cocky, just like those sports journalists have been branding him for years like he thinks he’s better than anyone else past and present.

Having been to every competition Minhee has skated in has led you to know a few things about Park Sunghoon. He was arguably the best skater in the division, even over Minhee, he was determined, hard-working, resilient, and fit as fuck.

To say you used to have a crush on him would be the understatement of the century, matter of fact it was so obvious back then that your mum would often reprimand you for staring at him too long. He was your first crush, you were 8 and he was 9, and like some girls that age you planned out a wedding, a future of 2 dogs and you’d both live in a pink palace. At first, it was his looks, no one in your primary school looked that pretty or even shone a torch compared to him. It was like seeing an angel for the first time. But then you started to grow up, and while still appreciating his face, you focused on how beautifully he skated and how majestic he moved. He was so passionate about the sport it made you feel butterflies, you hadn’t seen love like that before. Sunghoon and the rink were fated to be together.

“Sunghoon, calm down.” His coach whispered, “We need to tell you something-”

“I am NOT sharing my rink with that fucking z-list prick, alright?” Minhee didn’t hold back, he got that anger from your mother.

Turning to his coach, Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, “What does he mean sharing?”

Both Coaches exhaled. You can’t imagine how many times they have had to explain this situation, they probably should have just sent out an email. So as Coach Lee takes Sunghoon and his mum to the side, Coach Kim is looking at Minhee apologetically, “I’m sorry, Minhee. I know he’s your biggest competition, and trust me, I don’t exactly love this outcome either,” rubbing a hand down his exhausted face he whispers, “but work with me here. I’ve scheduled you guys at different times, you won’t even need to see him.”

“That’s not the point, Coach, you know how I feel about him.”

If it wasn’t for your mum you seriously ponder whether Minhee would have such a strong hatred for the fellow ice skater, and as you look at Sunghoon you wonder the same thing.

“I know trust me, you and your mother make that perfectly clear every time we cross them at comps, but you just gotta live with it, son.”

The coaches come back together and look at both of their young prodigies, “Minhee you’ll train morning, and Sunghoon you’ll train nights. Because of the merger of rinks, we have an excessive number of skaters, so we are making it a 24-hour arena but ONLY for you two and Wonyoung since Nationals are coming up.” Both coaches nodded their heads as if agreeing with themselves that this was a good choice, “So if you happen to turn up at the same time, you respect each others’ space and behave like grown men. Got it?”

Grumbling, your brother rolls his eyes, and Sunghoon nods. This is going to be a disaster.

Just as you think all bickering would be over, the mothers start chasing after the coaches as they head into the office. You felt bad for the trainers having to deal with this and getting blamed for it all, but most importantly, you feel sorry for them because they have to listen to both your mum and Mrs. Park for at least an hour.

Once the door to their office shut, it was silent, the only noise coming from the large ACs.

Scared to look any of them in the eye you place a hand on Minhee’s arm, “Come on, you need to practice.”

“Emphasis on the ‘need’.” Sunghoon pipes up and you wish he hadn’t. You were a fool to think this parting would be civil.

Minhee pokes his tongue in his cheek and looks at his rival, “You got something to say?” He’s challenging Sunghoon, baiting him to start something, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge, “Better watch my skate doesn’t somehow come flying off and slit you open.” Minhee was all bark and no bite, you knew this, but he seems deadly serious right now.

“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon stands tall against Minhee.

“It’s a fucking promise, Park.”

No one says anything else, they don’t have to, the look in their eyes is scary as they stand toe to toe with one another. “Let’s go, Mini.” You squeak out his nickname. By no means are you a timid person but you don’t want to interject and suddenly find yourself in the firing line.

With a grunt, your brother obeys and storms out and into the changing rooms, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

His stern eyes flicker to your soft ones, it’s been a while since you’ve been this close to him, close enough to admire him. His black hair is fluffy and unstyled unlike how it is usually when you see him at competitions, the bags under his eyes prove how hard he’s working whether at skating or general life and the freckles that are perfectly placed on his face suddenly look more ethereal than before. Sunghoon is the epitome of beauty.

While you’re staring you fail to notice how he is staring right back at you, taking in all your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. He hasn’t seen you since Sectionals which didn’t seem like that long ago but to him, it feels like a lifetime. You’ve cut your hair since then and Sunghoon noticed.

Meeting his eyes once again you see how they sparkle, just like they do when he’s on the ice.

“Sorry for my brother, he can be-”

“A dick?”

“A lot,” Your tone is filled with warning. Sunghoon might have been right but that’s still your brother, “He can be a lot but you already know that.”

Walking up to you, he tilts his head and smiles softly, “Don’t start apologising for him now, Sweets.” He leans so his face meets yours, “Or else you’ll be apologising your whole life.”

Sunghoon pats your head and makes his way to the coach's office, leaving you mesmerised.

______

Minhee and Sunghoon have successfully kept their distance from each other for the past two weeks, which has been a relief to everyone. If this pattern continues, there is hope that everything will just be a harmonious as before the merge.

Although the rink was now open for their disposal, you were never more grateful. No, it wasn’t for you, the coaches explicitly said it was for the future medalists, but you knew the receptionist for the building and she would let you away with anything if you batted your lashes and gave her a box of Toffees.

Growing up at the rink meant you found solace in the atmosphere and surroundings, so much so that you went there to simply study, the arena oddly hugging you in comfort while you tore the hair from your head. Skaters and staff became your friends with how much time you’ve spent in the bleachers. Typically, it would be during the day with what little spare time you had, but with the building being open around the clock it means you can inhabit the premises in the middle of the night, the perfect time to get your head down and work.

That is where you are headed right now just after your shift at the supermarket. It was as painful as ever with customers not understanding that you don’t make the prices, or that no you cannot watch their baby while they run for a jug of milk. It’s baffling how dense some people can be.

The rink is a nice place to relax and get away from it all.

Pushing open the door you see the receptionist, Miss Barbara, filing her nails. She was a friendly woman, the kind type, but when Coach Kim told her she would have to work some nights she wasn’t so sweet and caring, not to him anyway.

Her real name is just Barbara but as the years went on, she adopted this regal persona and insisted everyone call her Miss or Ma’am. Only you and Minhee gave in to her request though.

“Hi, Miss Barbara,” You wave. Reaching into your white tote bag you retrieve her bribes, eh, goodies, and pass them to her.

With much delight, she wiggles her fingers and slips them from the desk into her lap, “Y/N you are my favourite person that walks through those doors!” Her eyes are trained on the sweets rather than you when she speaks which makes you chuckle.

“Glad I can be held in such high regard, Miss Barbara,” You change your accent to a posh one and wave like a Queen in her tiny town car. Lifting her head, Miss Barbara sees your roleplay and laughs, dismissing you into the rink.

As you step into the arena, the chill of the air greets you, accompanied by the soothing sound of skates slicing through the ice. Finding your way to the centre of the second row of bleachers, you settle in, unpacking your bag and gracefully arranging your belongings. Crossing your legs to create space for your laptop and paper, you deftly balance everything, a skill you've honed to perfection.

Typing in your password you hear the skates coming towards you and scraping to a halt but you don’t look up.

“If you’ve come to spy on my routine you aren’t doing a very good job at hiding.” Sunghoon playfully remarks. You hadn’t even noticed it was him who was skating, since it was usually Wonyoung gracing the ice you just expected it to be her. He looks at your mess of a lap and scrunches his full eyebrows, “Like you’re really not making it discrete.”

You look up and see him pointing to your laptop, “Oh, no I’m just studying.” Returning to typing you hear him scoff, making you look at him again.

“You expect me to believe that?” The look on his face is incredulous when you don’t budge, “What? Don’t they have libraries at your Uni?”

Sunghoon’s tone is accusatory and you don’t like it. “Look, I don’t have beef with you okay? That’s the wrong Kang sibling.” There is no reason for him to be giving you attitude right now, you hadn’t done anything wrong, an innocent bystander in all this.

Deep down he knew that too, but he couldn’t be too careful.

Crossing his arms, he leans on top of the barrier and rests his chin, examining you and how much you’re telling the truth, “So, what? You genuinely just sit here and study? Does the cold stimulate your brain or something?”

“No, it’s like white noise at this point, comforting.” Glancing up you see his still dubious expression, “Ugh, look I come here all the time, ask anyone!” Your arms gesturing to the empty rink is not really helping your case.

Having had enough you slam the laptop shut and stand up, “Whatever, I’ll just go somewhere else.”

Sunghoon shoots his arms up to mock surrender, “Woah, Sweets, calm down, I was just making sure. Need to air on the side of caution, yeah?” His voice softens.

Making you uncomfortable wasn’t on his list of things to do, but his mum made it very clear your whole family wasn’t to be trusted, and he always heeded his mother's warnings even if he thought she was being overdramatic. “Listen, stay here as long as you want but if I see your brother doing a double toe loop into a triple axel I know who to blame.”

With a smirk, you sit back down, “See now you’ve just told me your big secret,” a laugh leaves your lips, “Changed your mind on trusting a Kang so soon huh?”

He’s flabbergasted.

Did he really just tell you part of his routine like it was nothing, in an instant after he just told himself not to be so trusting of you? You’re more dangerous than he first thought, and you aren’t even trying.

After seeing the realisation come over his face you laugh loudly, “Sunghoon, don’t worry. My brother can handle you on his own, he doesn’t need to cheat to beat you.”

“Say that to my 8 first places over him.” It goes silent. It’s not like you could argue with him, Sunghoon did beat Minhee in a lot of skates.

Trying to lighten the mood he points to you, “No pictures.” He jokes and skates away adroitly.

You don’t see the smile creeping onto his face, or the way tries to shake you out of his head. That conversation between you made him want it to be the start of many more, much more.

________

Emerging from your room, you're taken aback to find your mom standing right at your door, narrowly avoiding a collision. Both of you gasp and instinctively clutch your chests. "Jesus, Y/N, you scared me," she exclaims. Ignoring the fact that she's lingering around your room, you offer an apology, which she quickly dismisses. "A letter came for you," she informs you, handing over the manila envelope before walking away. At least she isn't one of those moms who loiter and wait for you to open it; she doesn't fuss over things like that. Or perhaps, she doesn't fuss over you.

Abandoning your plan to head to the kitchen for a cup of tea, you return to your bed and sprawl across it, letting your legs dangle off the edge. With a swift motion, you tear open the envelope and unfold the letter, eagerly scanning its contents.

Dear Y/N Kang,

At Yonsei University, our students consistently impress us with their dedication and commitment to excellence. Each year, we have the privilege of acknowledging one outstanding student whose remarkable progress merits special recognition. This year, we are delighted to announce that you have been selected as the top student of Yonsei University.

In light of your exceptional achievements, we would be honoured to celebrate your success by presenting you with an award. A special ceremony, bringing together top students from across the city, will be held on the 23rd of September at 7 pm in the historic Cathedral adjacent to our university campus. You are welcome to bring a plus one to share in this momentous occasion.

Congratulations once again on this well-deserved honour.

You skim-read the rest, and a triumphant smile creeps onto your face. There's no conceivable way you're at the top of the University this year - perhaps the top of your year, but the entire university? It feels like a surreal, sick joke. Investigating the envelope, you spot the official stamp of Yonsei. It's real.

Bounding down the stairs, you find your mum and brother already seated at the dining table, ready for dinner, "Mum, Mini, look!" You flap the paper in their faces, excitement bubbling within you. Your mum tuts and carefully opens the letter, reading it with precision. You're searching for any sign of a reaction, but nothing surfaces. She simply places it down and checks her phone.

You sit down gingerly, awaiting her acknowledgement, hoping for some form of appreciation, "Hmm, thought so." Clicking the lock on her phone, she sets it aside, "Sorry, Y/N, Minhee has a schedule that day."

"But aren't you happy for me?" You ask, your excitement dampening. It's not just about the ceremony; it's about the achievement itself. She should be proud of you, "I'm at the top of my university."

"Yes, you are, darling," your mum responds, her tone lacking enthusiasm. Normally, it wouldn't bother you, but this is a big deal, huge even, and she couldn't spare you the time of day to at least pretend to be happy for you.

Your heart sinks, and the elation you felt a moment ago dissipates. She really did not care, and the void of her indifference casts a shadow over your significant accomplishment.

Minhee places a comforting hand on your shoulder, sensing your disappointment. "Top of the class, huh? Finally, you get one of your awards in my trophy room." His attempt at humour falls flat in the weight of the moment. Minhee notices your lack of response, withdrawing his hand and sinking into silence, his gaze fixed downward.

“We just can’t go, your brother has an advertisement to film that day, we’ve been planning it for months. You understand.”

You had no choice but to understand.

“Yes, Mum.” The acceptance cuts deep. You've never blamed Minhee for the uneven distribution of favouritism; it wasn't his fault, yet, the sting of yearning for a moment in the spotlight, just once, remains. The chair you rise from screeches against the floor. "I need to go tell my friends about it."

There isn’t a protest from her, so you slip out quietly. Minhee extends a hand toward you, a silent gesture of support, but you don’t bother acknowledging it. The door closes behind you, leaving a trail of unresolved emotions lingering in the air.

In truth, you didn’t want to tell your friends right now, when you tell them you want it to be a happy occasion, not tarnished by your mum's attitude.

How could she be so nonchalant about the fact that you achieved such an award? You weren’t looking for bells and whistles but a simple ‘Well done, Y/N.’ would have sufficed. Was it too much to ask for? You did all this for her, after all.

A deja vu of last week, you push the heavy doors to the Belmore Centre, greeting Miss Barbara before heading to the rink.

The familiar scent of ice and warm rubber infiltrates your nose, offering solace and temporarily numbing the thoughts swirling in your mind. The rink, with its unique aura, never fails to bring you a sense of contentment.

As you take your usual seat, you can't help but notice an unusual absence of the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice. It's just past 8 pm, yet the rink is eerily silent. For a change, it's pure bliss, the absence of the usual hustle and bustle providing an unexpected sanctuary.

Sitting with your head in your hands, you succumb to overthinking. If only you could have skated and achieved something that your mum could be proud of. What would it take?

A tear slips down your cheek, and you're oblivious to the approaching presence.

Sunghoon’s smile is subtle as he takes in your dishevelled appearance. You’re not in your usual jacket, in fact, you look like you've hastily run out of the house as if you were just popping into the shop for milk.

With your hands buried in your head, he hears a sniffle, realizing that you're crying, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sunghoon drops his bag and skates as he rushes over to you, concern all over his face.

Shaking your head you just cry harder as your brain screams at you. It is so loud you can’t hear anything else, certainly not the boy sitting next to you.

He rubs your back to calm you down but to no avail. Instead, you cry harder and he doesn’t know what to do. Sunghoon isn’t exactly an expert when it comes to crying girls, “Sweets, stop crying.” Great, Sunghoon, just great, he curses himself, “Umm, no wait, shit, breathe! I’ve heard that works before.” He quickly made the realisation he would never make it as a therapist.

Sunghoon is always so confident and self-assured but right now with you he has no idea how to act.

What he doesn’t realize is that his awkward attempt to console you has genuinely worked. Sunghoon fumbling over his words gives you something to focus on, and hearing him mutter to himself about how awful he is at this makes you laugh. It’s a small laugh but one that breaks through the heaviness of the moment.

Hearing your laughter, Sunghoon whips his head to face you, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “What happened, Y/N?” His voice carries a gentle concern, inviting you to share, but you just shake your head, not ready to delve into the details. “Nah, come on. Whatever it is has really upset you. It’s better to talk about it.”

His voice resonates with a soothing calmness, making you feel like you could confide in him about anything.

“I just feel like I'm not good enough and that anything I do will never meet her standards,” you shrug, expressing the weight of self-doubt that has been dragging you down.

“Ah, it’s your mum, right?” His lips purse as he gazes ahead to the rink. The elude to ‘her’ being his only anchor of reasoning.

Your silence serves as confirmation. Sunghoon, all too familiar with the feeling of not being enough, understands your pain. But in this moment, it's not about him. He can only offer superficial advice, “If you live your life based on other's expectations, you’ll never be truly happy.”

“Says the competitive figure skater,” you lightly laugh, a hint of sadness slowly dissipating from your face.

Sunghoon pauses the reassuring circles between your shoulders and sighs, “You got me there.” You were right; who was he to tell you to stop living for other people when that’s all he has ever done since he was 6?

Seeing how his shoulders slump, you worry you might have hit a nerve. “Hey, I didn’t me—”

“Do you want to do something reckless?” The sudden switch from sadness to confidence confuses you, and you gaze at him as if he has two heads. It's remarkable how quickly he pulled himself out of his own thoughts, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.

When you don’t respond, he pushes the idea further, “Come on, Sweets. Didn’t have you as the type to say no to a little fun.”

“There's a big difference between reckless and fun, so which is it?” you ask.

“Come and find out.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, Sunghoon springs to his feet and yanks you out of your seat, propelling you into whatever scheme he has up his sleeve. As his hand interlocks with yours, a peculiar flutter dances in your stomach.

“Where are we going?” You glance around as he drags you past the rink and into the back rooms. "What’s so fun about plain grey walls and 'Employee of the Month' posters?”

Sunghoon simply rolls his eyes in response to your question.

The next thing you know, you're in a warehouse-like room, surrounded by old skating equipment, acrylite shields you've seen hockey players collide with, and an army of mannequins.

What somehow escapes your notice is the giant red Zamboni that Sunghoon is confidently strolling towards.

Seeing you mesmerized by the mannequins, Sunghoon waits for you to turn around, but you're too engrossed in the plastic figures to notice him. “Looking for your next boyfriend in there?” he teases, his voice slicing through the silence of the room.

Jumping at the unexpected remark, you hastily remove your hand from one of the figures' chests and whip around. Sunghoon leans against the Zamboni, a tilted smirk gracing his face, hands tucked casually in his trouser pockets. Embarrassed, you mumble a quick 'shut up' and shuffle over to him. To be honest, those dummies probably would have offered a more exciting conversation than most men.

Your eyes finally land on the Zamboni. It gleams, proudly bearing the bold inscription 'Zamboni Campbell' on the side. A few years ago, Coach Kim, in a moment of whimsy, had asked people to name the ‘new love in his life’ through a Facebook post. Some 7-year-old had chosen 'Zamboni Campbell.' It might not have been the most clever name, but considering his age, you let it slide.

“Please stop leaning on Zamboni Campbell; she’s a national treasure,” you interject, half-joking. If anything were to happen to her, you imagine Coach Kim might have an aneurysm.

The figure skater scoffs and pushes himself off the machine, “She’s no Zamby Malik.” He jokes, “My baby boy is probably being abused right now.” The comment raises an eyebrow; what is it with some people and their weird fascination for anything with a motor? Your expression remains neutral as Sunghoon looks at you. “Zamby Malik? Albion’s Zamboni? Named after Zayn Malik?” he questions.

“Yeah, got that reference, thanks.” Stepping forward, your eyes meet his. “I have been a Niall worshipper for many, many years,” you say proudly. You’ve been a dedicated fan of Niall and all the One Direction boys forever.

“Eh, more of a Louis girl myself,” Sunghoon shrugs and turns to face the ice resurfacer. “So, how badly have you ever wanted to ride her?” His hands rub together in a way that eerily resembles a villain plotting an evil scheme.

Nope. Absolutely not. You're not getting on that thing. For one, Coach Kim would undoubtedly kill you both if he found out. He loves the Zamboni more than his own children. And two, you have no idea how to operate it. Disaster is inevitable. “I am not getting on that thing!”

Sunghoon gives you a look that says ‘Of course, you are getting on that thing.’ but he can give you all the looks he wants, you are not doing it.

“Sweets, you need to have a go. It’ll help whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Sunghoon's hand playfully ruffles your hair before he strides towards the steps of the Zamboni.

Fixing your hair consciously, you find yourself following him. “How will it help exactly? When I die from crashing it or at the hands of Coach Kim, at least I'll be free of my thoughts?”

Sunghoon spins around, and you walk right into his chest. “I was thinking more along the lines of a clear rink, clear mind, but your reasoning works too, I suppose.” His hands grip your shoulders and push you at arm's length. “So?”

As you weigh up your options, for him, there's only one option – getting you behind the wheel of Zamboni Campbell.

“I don’t know how to drive it though, Sunghoon.” That would surely deter him from this ridiculous idea. But it doesn't.

“Duh,” His eyes rolled once again, “I’ll teach you obviously.”

It’s at that moment you understand that regardless of how long you’ve known him, you don’t actually know him. In fact, you haven’t even had a conversation this long before.

“Since when did you know how to ride a Zamboni?” You inquire and Sunghoon removes his hands from your shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. God, he is so handsome.

“You learn a thing or two being on the ice so long.”

The truth is, he was constantly pestering the maintenance guy at Albion to clean the ice before his practice. He got so fed up hearing Sunghoon complain he told him to do it himself. So he learned, and ever since, he’s been whizzing on a Zamboni.

You are running out of excuses, and part of you is agreeing with him that this will be good for you. “Fine.”

“That’s a girl!” Sunghoon huffs, and you move to walk up the steps, but he stops you, holding up two fingers. “Two things first.”

Removing his long liquorice-colored coat, he gently places it on your shoulders. The warmth lingering from his body heat in the linings of the jacket makes you realize how cold you were. “It gets cold up there,” he says, straightening out the collar.

You push your arms through the holes and wrap yourself up in it. Sunghoon has broad shoulders, so the jacket makes you look ten times smaller than you are, creating a cosy cocoon.

If he knew it was okay to say, he'd probably tell you how cute you look. For now, he keeps that thought to himself.

Murmuring a polite ‘thank you,’ you're grateful he doesn’t ask why you don't have your jacket. Sunghoon hasn’t pushed you to talk about it at all, and that's something you appreciate.

Sunghoon climbs up and gets situated behind the wheel.

“Wait, you said there were two things?” The jacket is one, and what else?

“Ah, there’s only one seat up here so,” he pats his lap, “You’re going to have to sit on my knee.”

He has to be joking, yet his face looks serious, a tinge of red sneaking onto his neck and ears. He’s blushing. The playful challenge in his eyes mixes with genuine warmth. It's clear he wants to make you smile.

Cute.

“I can’t teach you from down there, now come on up.” He continues.

He won’t give up, apparently, so with a huff, you start scaling the steps, standing at the top and realise how high this thing is. Sunghoon puts his hand out for you to take as he guides you to sit down. “This is super high,” you state patently.

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head, “You’re just small, Sweets.” His hands go to your waist to stabilise you while you hike one leg over him. “That’s it, not so scary, huh?”

Slowly, you sit down on his lap, getting yourself comfortable. You feel his thighs tense under you. “Oh, am I too heavy?”

Quickly, he shakes his head, “No, not at all, I’ve got legs of steel.” He slaps the side of his thigh and relaxes them a little. Sunghoon won’t say it, but the way you wriggled to get comfy was putting pressure straight on his cock, making him tense up. It would be rude to pop a boner right now no matter how good you feel, given the circumstances.

“So what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He was too busy lost in his thoughts he forgot what he was doing. “Oh, right,” he turns on the machine and guides you through the steps. “So there are six levers, each does their own thing—conditioner, elevation, brush, tyre wash, wash water,” he continues going through the controls.

While he’s explaining, you observe how fast his lips are moving. Is he always this talkative, or is it just with you? A part of you hopes for the latter. “And we are good to go.” He finishes and smiles. You probably should have paid attention because now he’s looking at you expectantly. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“Something about water being washed?” you bring your shoulders up sheepishly and smile, showing all your teeth.

The look on his face feigns annoyance, “How about I drive and you sit there and look pretty, yeah?”

Pretty. That’s the second time he's inadvertently called you pretty.

Sunghoon reaches his arm around you, starting the machine up and driving it onto the rink, his other hand is holding you securely in his lap. The ice resurfacer is in full swing as it sweeps the edges of the rink. You haven’t seen the rink from this angle before and it brings forth a new appreciation.

“Gonna need you to pump for me.”

It takes you a minute to process his words before craning your neck around to look at him, “Excuse me?” You have no idea in what context that sentence couldn’t be laced with innuendo.

He seems unphased, or maybe just unaware of his words double entendre, and points to the right of the machine, “This Zam has a manual wash water lever, you need to pump it for me, Sweets, I can’t reach it with you on my lap.”

Can he please stop saying pump for all that is holy?

You screw your head back on and see the black lever he is talking about, “This one?”

His one hand on your hip squeezes slightly when you reach over, “Yeah just lift it up and down, it might be heavy for you so be careful.”

Sunghoon watches you pump the water washer a few times, you use both hands to grasp the lever so he tightens his hold on your waist to ensure your safety. After he has focused on the task at hand he notices the way your hands are gripped around the lever, your fingers barely able to wrap around it. He can’t stop the next thoughts that come into his head. What he wouldn’t give to have you stroking his cock with those pretty hands.

The next thing he notices is how you’re softly grunting as you put the work in and your arms losing pace due to repetition and tiredness. The scene in front of him isn’t calming his thoughts down any because now he’s thinking if these noises are similar to ones you would make while bouncing on his dick. He feels like a pervert because here you are upset and he’s got crude thoughts of you infiltrating his mind.

“That’s enough for now, Sweets.” His voice is strained, he could have watched you do that for hours but for the sake of the ice and his dignity, he needs you to stop.

Pulling away and shuffling back to comfort on his lap you smile, “That was weirdly fun. It got some frustration out of me.”

It’s ironic because frustration has seeped into Sunghoon, horny frustration, and you are so blissfully unaware.

“Wow, look how sparkly it is!” You exclaim as your eyes are glued to the ice behind you. Maybe only once have you seen the rink so clean, but even then it wasn’t like this, it’s practically glistening. Zamboni Campbell needs to pat herself on the back.

The boy steering her also needs to praise himself not just for the excellent resurfacing job, but also for helping you. It’s not until now you see that his plan worked, he got you out of your head and stopped the crippling thoughts that were bound to consume you if you didn’t have this distraction.

Both of you lap the rink 4 times before Sunghoon looks at his handy work and smiles, “She drives like a dream.” He steers back into the warehouse, trying to park the Zamboni close enough to where they found it.

“Better than Zamby Malik?” You tease.

“Never, but she’s not far off.” Sunghoon doesn’t let go of the hold he has on your waist despite the ice resurfacer being stagnant. Instead, he’s slightly massaging your sides, an action you can barely feel because of his coat engulfing your body, but you feel it enough.

Turning around so your legs are draped fully over his thighs, you're about to get off him, but you don't. You should stand up, climb down the steps, and leave it as a nice memory, but this future memory feels too short like there should be something more to it.

Sunghoon feels it too, that’s why he’s staring at you so intensely. The once shallow smile he had on his face now dropped off; his eyes are looking deep into yours, and his hands move up your waist slightly, yet he doesn’t make a move.

This has to be your decision. Something you want.

If there was ever an inappropriate time to think about your brother, it’s when you’re two seconds away from kissing a guy. Minhee’s face flashes in your mind, and you realize what you’re about to do - you’re about to kiss Minhee’s biggest rival, his arch-nemesis, how could you even face your brother if you gave in to this?

Sunghoon watches you while your brain flips out; you don’t look like you’re 100% certain of the idea of his lips on yours. “Sweets?” he squeezes your waist and sighs, “We should get going.”

Oh.

All you’re thinking about is why he didn’t kiss you, and why it hurt a little that he didn’t. It looked like he wanted to; maybe you took too long, or he stared long enough to realize you weren’t actually pretty. You guys don't even know each other well, but you feel yourself being pulled towards him. Wasn’t it the same for him? Your brain went from overthinking one thing to another.

Nodding your head, you stand up carefully and make your way down. You can’t even look at him out of shame and guilt for even entertaining the idea of kissing him. Your mum would be so disappointed if she knew.

Sunghoon follows you down but unlike you he is keeping his eyes fixed on your face, focusing on every change in your manner both positive and negative. He wanted to kiss you but you looked like you were about to pass out from the thought of it. Sunghoon wanted you to be certain, “I’ll drive you home.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’m not that far from here.” Being in a car with him after this wouldn’t be the best outcome, your mind is still on his lips.

“Please, Y/N, it’s late. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Anything could happen.” Sunghoon doesn’t want you to walk home, yes because of safety concerns, but also because he wants to spend even a fraction of a minute more time with you. You seem to be one of the few people in this world he can relax around.

He should have just kissed you.

The look on his face is serious but his eyes are soft, not asking but begging you to just say yes.

“Sure.” The atmosphere is heavy, filled with longing and tension. You’re both thinking different things.

You’re analysing every specific detail from tonight to see if you have done something wrong, anything that would have stopped him from kissing you.

And Sunghoon’s brain is filled with various thoughts of you from tonight. The lever, the way you felt so right sitting in his lap, and more importantly how amazing it felt to be the one that made you smile. The way you smiled and giggled on the Zamboni is something he is going to commit to memory.

As of today, he will start keeping part of his brain solely for you to occupy.

The walk to Sunghoon's car is silent, free of the laughter and conversation that previously filled your space. Both of you appear to be over-analysing each other's previous acts, which makes the situation more awkward than it needs to be.

Sunghoon's car is impressive: a sleek monochrome Peugeot New 2008 with a black interior. The scent of his fresh cologne combines with the ocean-scented tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

“This is a nice car.” You note, buckling up your seatbelt.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Got her as part of a brand deal with Peugeot Sport.” His hands caress the smooth wheel and his lips upturn into a proud smile. Brand deals and advertisements are not what you want to hear about right now, especially when it’s the one thing your mum cared about instead of your award. Your sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed, “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

That was the one place you didn’t really want to be right now but you nod, shoulders slumped a little at the thought of facing your mum again.

“Or,” Sunghoon starts, “We could get some food? The University Cafe is always open late.”

It was like he could read your mind, “Yeah, I could eat.”

With that, Sunghoon starts the car and drives to the cafe. The way your face turned a little paler when he said he would take you home alarmed him. He doesn’t think you’re in danger there, Minhee might be a dick but he was protective over you, he wouldn’t let anything happen, and Sunghoon knew that. Whatever it is, you didn’t want to go home, and Sunghoon is more than willing to keep you to himself for a couple more hours.

The journey to the cafe, situated more on his side of town, unfolds in silence, only disrupted by the gentle strains of Hozier's "Like Real People Do" emanating from the radio. A wry smile tugs at Sunghoon's lips, finding the song's relevance a touch on the nose for the current situation.

Upon arriving at the cafe, you're taken aback by its shabby appearance - chipped walls, adjacent graffiti, not to mention it’s deserted. Sunghoon, attuned to your hesitance, reassures you, “It’s a lot nicer than it looks, promise. I’ve been coming here forever.” Stepping out of the car, he leaves you with the choice of venturing into the weathered establishment or remaining in the safety of the car. Despite your reservations, a rumble from your stomach nudges you to join him inside.

The interior mirrors the exterior's wear and tear, yet a certain comfort envelops the air as Sunghoon guides you with a reassuring hand on the small of your back. “Sit anywhere you like, Sweets.”

Opting for a seat by the back window, you settle into the firm, brown booth without ridding yourself of Sunghoon's coat, a silent acknowledgement that your stay may be short-lived. You aren’t a snob but you have a cafe like this in your side of town and it isn’t somewhere you choose to occupy.

Noticing your scrutiny of the surroundings, Sunghoon, with a laugh, takes a seat across from you, studying your expression, "You don’t like it, huh?"

Huffing, you cast a critical eye around the place, "Not really, no."

You were brutally honest, he’ll give you that, “Wait until you try their food and then judge okay?” He chuckles and hands you the menu on the table.

A waitress waltzes over with a pen and paper. She’s too beautiful for a place like this, her rosy cheeks and long flowing brown hair make you jealous, “Sunghoon! My favourite ice slasher, how is it going?”

While they engage in small talk you look at the menu looking for something safe to eat. Maybe you should just wait for Sunghoon to order and get the same thing.

“Y/N, you know what you want?” He turns to you.

“Oh, so you’re the Y/N?” the waitress grins.

What does that mean? How does she know your name? When you glance at Sunghoon, you notice his intense stare fixed on the girl. This is strange. The waitress seems to pick up on Sunghoon's unspoken communication, smirking as she says, "I mean, you're Kang Minhee's sister, right?" She then slowly turns her attention to you.

Ah, that's how she knew. He must have spoken ill of Minhee and you enough times for her to recognize you. Fueled by this assumption, you shift into defence mode. "Yeah, I am," you reply sharply, your expression hardening as you lean back, raising your eyebrows and waiting for her response, half-expecting her to be rude to you.

Strangely, the waitress's expression brightens. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Can I get you anything?" Her voice carries genuine warmth.

Now you feel a bit guilty. She seems genuinely nice.

"Uh," you glance at the menu again, uncertain of what to order. "What's good?"

Sunghoon intervenes with a smile. "She'll take my usual," he tells the waitress as she departs. Ordinarily, you dislike when men presume to order for you, but in this instance, you're grateful for the assistance. "It's just a plain cheese and ham panini with tomato, pesto, and hot sauce. It sounds simple, but it's delicious."

You expected Sunghoon to be a burger and fries kind of guy, but with his physique and strict regimen, you should have known his tastes would lean towards the healthier side of things.

“Did you order a drink with this ‘usual’ or am I supposed to just swallow it dry?”

“Comes with diet coke and a lime.” He says timidly, now for the first time he is self-conscious about his food choice. Sunghoon would like nothing more than to chomp into a pizza and a full-fat Pepsi but with National’s coming up at the end of the year, he needs to stick somewhat to his meal plan. In hindsight, he should have ordered you something you might have liked. What did you like? He didn’t even know that simple fact, “Do you want something else? I can change it.”

“No it’s okay, I’ll trust your judgment,” You relax into the booth, “Shoot me if i’m being too straight forward but don’t you have enough money to go like, I don’t know, somewhere nicer than this?”

Raising his hands in a gun motion he pretends to shoot you and you fake a wound in your shoulder. It’s nice to be playful like this, Sunghoon hasn’t had this for a long time, “You know how to ask a question, Sweets.”

He then shrugs and looks around the cafe, not unlike how you were doing earlier but his eyes aren’t filled with distaste; they’re shining in fondness.

“It’s where my dad would take me after practices. Mum would never let me come here once I started aiming for professional level, too much grease and too many carbs.” He recalls a time his mum had him on a diet at 11 because he wasn’t flying high enough and a frown appeared on his face, “My dad though, he wanted me to be at least somewhat a normal kid so every Wednesday when mum worked late we would come here. Eat whatever we want and then pop a breath mint in the car.”

Sunghoon’s features are mixed with hurt and fondness, “Sorry, about your dad.” You offer your condolences.

When Sunghoon was 15 his dad died of a heart attack right before the Junior Championships and it broke him to the point he didn’t want to skate anymore, it wasn’t fun because his dad was always the one to cheer him on. His parents had their roles, his mum was strict and direct, getting him to train hard and achieve his best. And his dad was the reliever, encouraging him to have fun and let loose, be a kid. With one half of the balance scales gone, it was difficult for Sunghoon to maintain any adolescent normality. Perhaps that’s why he’s so fond to have you around.

In the silence you speak up, “You know your dad used to sneak me a packet of Haribos nearly every competition.” The boy's head whips to look at you and tilts, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, and every time he would say ‘With everything so sour, we deserve something sweet’.” You smile at the thought.

“I-, he was kind like that.” He wants to say more, but he stops himself.

His dad was the nicest man in the whole world. When you found out the news that he passed away, you cried a little. Your mum being your mum she didn’t understand it, claimed you didn’t know him enough to mourn. Regardless of how well you knew him, people who were so kind and loving don’t deserve to be taken from this world so quickly.

You see the look on Sunghoon’s face lighten up a little, the shadow over his eyes washing away and when he looked at you, the sparkle came back, “So, you can’t hate this place or else I can pull the dead dad took me here card.”

“Fine. I love it.” The words feign mocking when in actuality they are full of understanding.

The waitress from earlier brings over the drinks in a frosted glass with a lime wedge on the rim, “There you go! Added extra ice for my Ice Prince.”

My. She could have said ‘The’.

It stirred up something within your chest. Jealousy? Okay but why are you getting jealous over this? You don’t know because you aren’t exactly his and you have never been the threatened type, so you don’t know what’s going on with you.

“Food will be right out!” She hops away and she is back in a flash with the Paninis.

What you don’t expect is Sunghoon to take both of them and add some condiments, opening up the middle to pour a slight bit of salt and some mayonnaise.

“Excuse me, I don't need your hands all over my food.” Crossing your arms you wait for him to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he shows you his hands, stretching them over the table.

“Look how clean they are, Sweets.” They are clean and oh-so pretty. Suddenly you’re jealous of the food that receives his touch, wishing it was you. You need to get a grip, first the waitress, and now a piece of toasted bread are the objects of your envy.

It’s like your crush from when you were little came back tenfold, with every second you spend with him that little innocent pash is turning into full blown infatuation. Now with added hormones, it’s like you’re drawn to him more than ever. It’s scary how quickly you fell back into your feelings, whatever they were.

“Y/N?” He brings you back to reality with his low voice, retreating his hand, “Lost you for a minute there.”

Passing you the food you thank him, “Sorry, happens a lot. I tend to overthink literally everything.” It’s a confession you haven’t let pass your lips. Not ever. “I learned to control it as I got older but if I’m upset I can’t stop it 99% of the time, even if it’s something simple like putting salt on this food.”

Sunghoon sees you physically overthinking what you just said. It’s the exact same face you made when you were inches from kissing him.

He understands the situation earlier a little better now.

“So what’s upsetting you now, Sweets?” He asks, “You said you didn’t feel good enough, what happened?”

Shuddering, you remember your words. You’re embarrassed that you blurted out your feelings so readily, “It’s nothing.” Then you remember, “Why did you think it was my mum?”

“If your mum is anything like mine, and I guarantee she is, then I don’t ‘think’ it was your mum, I know it.” There’s an empathy shining in his eyes, “What did she do?”

“I got some good news, and when I told her about it,” Sighing, you try to aggregate your feelings. Sunghoon’s hand makes contact with your forearm as he sees you struggle. The soothing motion of his thumb calms you instantly, “she just dismissed it. Like my achievement wasn’t up to par with Mini’s.”

“What was the good news?”

“Nothing major I guess. I’m the top student at my University for the year and I’m receiving an award.”

Sunghoon is furious. Your mum had downplayed your achievement and now you don’t think it’s a big deal and he wasn’t having it, “Y/N. You go to Yonsei, right?” Once you nod he continues, “Then that IS major, what are you talking about?”

“It’s not exactly a Championship medal.” Your shoulders slump.

“And?” Squeezing your arm he tries to make you see past your mother and her shitty attitude, “Some people would think your achievement means more than one of his, does that make Minhee’s less than yours?” You mumble a quick ‘of course not’, not grasping what he’s saying, “Then why do you think that way about your award? Sweets, it’s fucking amazing you should be proud of yourself.”

You are, it’s your mum who isn’t and that’s what you can’t get over.

Instead of answering back you avoid the conversation altogether and start eating the food in front of you.

One bite has you falling in love with the taste, the pesto combination with the cheese and parma ham melts in your mouth and makes your tongue dance. You owe this shabby place an apology.

Triumph etches onto Sunghoon’s face as he sees the same fireworks behind your eyes that he had when he first tried the food. He knew you’d like it.

“Oh, my days.” You stare at him wide-eyed, one hand covering your mouth. Never will you doubt him again.

“Told you.” He smirks and eats some of his own, the familiar aroma and your face make his chest fill with glee and gratification, “I’ve just learned two things about you in this last minute.”

“And what’s that?” You question, taking another bite.

“You love the food here and will never question my taste again,” Your eyes are still on the food but you nod to agree, “And you’re an avoider.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“An avoider?”

Sunghoon leans back and picks up a tissue, cleaning the crumbs from his fingers, “You changed the topic pretty fast when you didn’t want to have a conversation you’re uncomfortable with. You can’t accept what I’m saying is right, your achievement is just as mighty as all of Minhee’s and it IS a big deal.”

Arguing with him about it is pointless. Does it mean you won’t though? No.

“It’s not that I'm not accepting what you’re saying,” it is, he thinks to himself, “I just don’t need to air my drama or feelings to someone I don’t know.”

“Believe it or not, asking questions and having conversations like this is how you get to know people,” Sunghoon pushed the food to the side and leaned forward, “I just want to get to know you.”

You challenge him by matching his posture and leaning on the table, “Whatever happened to, oh I don’t know, what’s your favourite colour?”

“White. See, easy right?” He’s smug. Sunghoon isn’t trying to pressure you to answer the question, he just thinks if you speak about the issue, it’ll alleviate the burden. A problem shared is a problem halved after all. “How about you ask me anything at all, and I’ll answer it because I know that’s how you get to know me.”

“Anything at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”

Stunned. Shocked. Astounded. Whatever other synonym he could use, that’s exactly how he feels right now. For the first time in his life, he is speechless. How do you keep doing this to him? Never has anyone been so forthright with him.

Seeing his cheeks flush red and eyes dart around as if finding the answer in his brain you know you’ve won, “Not so eager to speak now, huh?”

Exhaling, Sunghoon sits back, “You looked like you were going to pass out,” He begins his answer, “You got in your head about something and it made you second guess.”

“I was thinking about Minhee.”

Sunghoon’s face shrivels, “Sweets, I know we’re compared a lot but I didn’t think he’d be my competition with you too?” Sunghoon’s voice is playful but he is worried about the next words out your lips.

Stretching over the table you slap his chest, “Ew, no that’s disgusting! Don’t even think like that!” You’re appalled at even the inclination, “It’s just that, you’re Park Sunghoon, you said it yourself he’s your competition,” He goes to say something and you stop him, “in SKATING. You’re so disgusting.” Laughter fills your booth, food and drinks forgotten, “If I ever kissed you he would freak the fuck out.”

The boy across from you knows exactly what you’re talking about, more than know, “If Minhee wasn’t a factor, would you have kissed me back?”

“Yes.”

Responding before your brain has a chance to filter the words is also a downside to your overthinking mind. So many thoughts in one brain make it easier for slips like this to happen, but you aren’t too concerned about this one, he probably already knew you would have kissed him back there if you weren’t preoccupied with contemplation.

Just as you think you’ll get to speak about what transpired earlier, the waitress comes over to take your plates away, “All done?”

Sunghoon nods and goes to pull out his wallet to pay but as he pats himself down to find it, he remembers it’s in his coat - the coat you’re still wearing “Uh, Sweets?” He points to his coat trying to tell you it’s in there.

Smirking you search the inner pockets to find a Prada wallet. You could have some fun with this.

“That’s okay, Hoonie, I’ve got it.” You pull out a few £20 notes and hand them to the waitress, “It’s my treat tonight, didn’t I tell you that? Only the best for my hard-working man.” Making kissy faces at him, his face goes red and his lips go in a thin line.

It wasn’t the fact you just paid £80 for a £12 meal with his money, although that will be addressed later on, it was the nickname and calling him your man that has him trying to control himself. The sweet albeit lightheartedly jeering way of your words made his heart tight in the best possible way. If there was a button board on Sunghoon’s chest, filled with all his emotions like annoyance, lust, happiness, solace, and aggravation, you had pushed every one of them tonight.

Laughing you put the wallet back into his coat. He looks so cute when he goes red like that, it almost makes you want to treat him like an actual princess or stuff him in your pocket. Either way, you wanted to look after him in some form or other.

“Are you quite done now?” Sunghoon gains back his composure as he watches you chuckling away to yourself.

Suddenly, nothing was funny anymore when your phone goes off, flashing your brother's name on the screen.

You have to go home and Sunghoon knows it too, “Y/N, I would keep you out all night if I could, but Minhee might send out a missing police report if I do.”

Now that you’ve somewhat spoken the issue out loud, you think you’re being a bit over the top about it all but your body still has the overbearing weight placed on your shoulders. Facing your mum right now was the last thing you wanted but you know you can’t avoid her forever.

“I’ll text him. He thinks I’m at Rina’s place telling her and Allen the news.” Quickly standing up you type a generic reply back, telling him you’ll be home soon.

Sunghoon keeps two steps behind you while you walk out of the cafe, his arm hovering by your side to guide you as you text and walk at the same time, he waves goodbye to the waitress and she wafts the cash in her face, fanning herself with his hard-earned money. All he can do is laugh and show his disbelief at her flaunting through his expression.

“There. Sent.” You put the phone into Sunghoon’s coat pocket. You’re almost at his car when you hear him speak up.

“Hey, Sweets?”

“Hmm?”

Sunghoon grabs your left arm, twirls you around, and presses his lips against yours.

The action knocks the air from your lungs and your eyes widen. Park Sunghoon was kissing you. His palms cup each of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours as he backs you up until your back hits the side of his car. This is what you wanted back at the rink, to have the feeling of his mouth moulding to yours, except it was better than expected, it felt like heaven.

He can't seem to get enough of you as he fervently kisses your mouth, his tongue sliding along your lips, eliciting a soft moan from you that's music to his ears. It was a daring move to kiss you so suddenly, and in an ideal world, he would have asked for permission first. But he knows that might have sparked another bout of overthinking from you, and he couldn't risk losing this second chance to kiss you tonight.

Sliding his hands into your hair, he gently pulls your head back, granting him better access to your open mouth, deepening the kiss. Lost in the sensation of your lips, he doesn't even notice the subtle movement of your fingers dancing along his waist until they settle between his lower back and the top of his ass.

At this moment, nothing could stop you from kissing or touching him.

Except, perhaps, one person.

Your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call, but you're too entranced by Sunghoon's lips and tongue to notice. Pressing his body against yours, he traps you between him and the car, the sensation of his hips against yours causing you to instinctively grind against him, using your hands to pull him closer.

However, in the intimate closeness, he can feel your phone vibrating against your body. As much as he wants to ignore it, he knows you can't. "Sweets, your phone," he murmurs between kisses, his hands dropping from your hair to reach into your pocket, even as your lips continue to chase after his. "It's Minhee; you better take it."

No way has he cock blocked you twice in one night.

Grumbling, you take the phone from Sunghoon and answer, “Hi Minhee…No, I wasn’t ignoring you, I was putting on my shoes…no no, you don’t need to pi-”

You pause mid-sentence when Sunghoon starts kissing your neck and squeezing your waist. What does he think he's doing? Glancing down, you catch his eyes sneakily looking up at you. Attempting to push him away only results in him biting down, his fangs teasing the verge of breaking skin. In any other situation, you might have found it hot, but with Minhee yapping in your ear, you don't have time to appreciate it.

“Look, I’m on my way home…I’ll walk, it's not that far…seriously, Minhee- Oh,” you moan involuntarily when Sunghoon kisses your sweet spot, and once he's found it, he doesn’t stop licking and nibbling, “Hoonie, stop it!” You remove the phone from your ear and whisper-shout at him.

“I love it when you call me that,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hearing Minhee’s voice come through the phone again, you lift it back up to your ear, “What? Oh, I stubbed my toe, look I’ll be home soon alright…Yes, Allen is here…you know he and Rina are together. I’m going to go, see you soon.” Hanging up, you sigh in exasperation.

Giving Sunghoon a few light whacks, you demand, “Why did you do that?” You're almost certain Minhee heard him, or at least now he might think you're hooking up with Allen.

Bringing his face back up to yours, Sunghoon just shrugs and kisses you again with as much fervour as before. His lips are addicting, and you don’t want to stop, but Rina lives 20 minutes from your house if you walk, and this cafe is at least a 30-minute drive. “Sunghoon, I need to go back,” you say between his insistent kisses.

“How long do I have?” He needs to know how long he can indulge in this before having to let you go.

“Not even a second. I’ll already be late even if we leave now.” When his forehead falls on yours you see the pain on his face, like you’re depriving him of a basic human need.

"Don't say that, tell your friend to phone and say you're staying with her tonight." Sunghoon can't stop his lips from capturing yours again. It's as if he's had a taste of you and doesn't want to give it up, especially now. His hand teases the waist of your trousers, tempting to dip in and touch you where you desperately need him.

Personally, you would love nothing more than to call Rina up and get her to lie, she would do it in a heartbeat but Minhee would never believe it, “I can’t. I never stay over when he has practice in the morning. Mum never wants to make a stop off to pick me up.”

“You’re killing me here.” He states breathlessly, his fingertips dancing down to your pussy as he ghosts your neck with his breath. He’s waiting on you to give him the green light but you are far too concerned about getting home.

He suddenly hates your mum a little more than before. If it wasn’t her dismissing your accomplishments, it was her inability to put you on her priority list, “Can’t you just skip his practice? He’ll have more, trust me he needs it.”

“Don’t ruin this.” You warn him from speaking any more about your brother. It does bring you back to reality just who you were kissing, but you can’t focus on that right now, your only concern is getting home.

Sunghoon apologises by kissing you again, this time more gently, like it came naturally to him, “I need to go home. No excuses.”

It isn't what he wants to hear, but he has to accept it. Stepping away from you, his gaze remains fixed on your lips, which are lush and swollen; he can only picture what they would look like if he had more time to toss you in the back seat. His mind immediately returns to you with the lever, and to be honest, he could throw a tantrum right now over the situation at hand. It was unjust that he couldn't just have you, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance again.

Moving to his side of the car he slides in and you follow suit. He uses the excuse of buckling your seatbelt for you to give you another kiss and it has you internally giggling and kicking your feet.

You do the same to him, grabbing the seatbelt from him and clipping him in, leaning over to press your lips against his soft ones.

“All I need is 5 minutes,” He whispers against your lips and you laugh, swatting his chest.

You can’t say you don’t ponder it, and when you see his hard on poking so slightly against his trousers, you look at the time and really wonder if you could, but you can’t risk Minhee even getting a whiff of this, “Next time.”

Sunghoon's eyes change from desire to hope in real time, "There'll be a next time?" His cool and confident demeanour fades and is replaced with puppy-like grin as he realises you want more than what you had tonight.

“If you get me home in the next 25 minutes there can be.” You pose and with that, Sunghoon drives out of the car park and down the highway going 10 above the limit.

Reaching closer to your house you put a hand on his thigh as you speak, “Better to drop me off here, so Mini doesn’t see you.” You also have to fake that you walked home from Rina’s so if a big fancy car starts pulling up outside your house, he’s going to know something is up.

Sunghoon takes your hand on his thigh and brings it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with the road as he stops at the curb of your neighbour's house 2 doors down. His grip tightens on your hand as he looks at the time, “Got you here in 27 minutes, Sweets.” Proud of himself he adorns a smile that splits his face in half.

Tutting you pout at him, “I guess there can’t be a next time, so sorry Hoonie.” His stunned face was worth holding in your laugh to act like you’re serious, “If only you had gotten here 2 minutes quicker.”

“Come on,” He exasperated, “There were like 10 red lights in a row.” His thumb points back to where you just drove from.

It’s true, it was bad luck, but you liked playing with him like this.

“Sorry, see you at the rink yeah?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to get out your side of the car, but Sunghoon isn’t letting it end here.

He stretches over to shut the door back over making you gasp, startled by the sudden move, “You don’t want to be a thief do you?” You think he’s going to hit out with something cheesy like how you stole his heart of something, but when his hand grips the coat you’re wearing you understand what he means, “Bad enough you gave my money away but now you’re trying to steal a £500 coat?”

Perplexed by both the price and the unexpected accusation, your mouth hangs open. No wonder the coat is so cosy and warm—it costs most of your month's paycheck. Exiting the car, you impishly mutter a 'fine' as you remove the jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before walking away, feeling considerably colder than before.

Just as you reach the vicinity of your house, Sunghoon calls out, "Sweets?" You spin around to see him jogging up behind you, holding your phone. Ah, you put it in his coat pocket after Minhee's call. Taking it from his grip, you thank him, only to be surprised again when he says, "You also forgot this." What else did you even have on your person to forget?

Sunghoon's mouth quickly meets yours for the nth time tonight. A kiss. You forgot to kiss him.

Sighing, you realize you have to put an end to it. Lingering out in the open so close to your home practically guarantees Minhee will see. "Hoonie."

"Shh," he hushes you, continuing the kiss, "I know, but let me have it since there won't be a next time." A fake sad look takes over his face, his hands running up and down your sides.

"Ugh fine, since you gave me my phone I suppose I could spare you some time." Crossing your arms, you act irritated, while his 'sadness' transforms into a self-satisfied smile. That was the dynamic between you both, always giving what you got, and you wanted to explore it more, no matter how difficult it was.

“See you at the rink then, Sweets.” Messing up your hair he skips back to his car like a kid on Christmas. He was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Spending these past few hours with Sunghoon was like nothing you had ever experienced before. He knew how to wash all of your worries and woes away better than some people you’ve known for years. And when he kissed you it sent shooting stars through your body. If only 8-year-old you could see what had just happened, she would burst with excitement.

With a smile on your face, you rapidly run into your house and up the stairs, trying to be quiet but also too lost in the dizziness from Sunghoon’s kisses. As you reach the top of the stairs, Minhee opens his door and gives you a quizzical look. Oh no, he didn’t see, did he?

“Why do you look like you won the lottery?” Phew, he hadn’t.

“Just, excited about getting the award, that’s all.” It wasn’t totally a lie, he would see right through you if you started to babble out any other excuse so you had to stick to something believable. You are happy about the award, there isn’t a doubt about it, but Sunghoon reassuring you throughout the night made you stop and acknowledge how happy you really were to receive it. Your mum was the one that ruined it for you.

Minhee follows you when you walk into your room, “Y/N? You know I would be there if I could right?” Facing him, you see how sorry he looks about the situation, “I tried to phone the company to move the filming but they can’t.” Of course, he would try to move it for you, that was the kind of brother he was.

A surge of guilt overcomes your body. Here he was trying to move his schedule around, a big important schedule might you add, and you were out there kissing the one boy you shouldn’t be. If Sunghoon wasn’t such a threat to Minhee, you think they could go back to being somewhat friends, but that’s never going to happen.

“It’s okay, Mini. I know you can’t just cancel it.” Your voice is reassuring but his features still hold hurt.

“It’s not okay, Y/N. You’re the most important thing to me in this world, I want to be there for your big moments like you’ve been there for mine.” You could cry. Minhee wasn’t the type to show his emotions so being on the receiving end of such words makes you tear up a little, “Hey, Bubs, don’t cry.”

He hasn’t called you Bubs in so long, the childhood nickname growing out as you both got older. There was a bond between you and your brother, other siblings used to say how envious they were.

“I don’t want to speak ill of our mum but she was a bitch tonight. I should have said something.”

Shaking your head, you wipe your tears and look down before speaking, “Mini, it wouldn’t have helped.” Your voice cracks and your throat closes a little, “She’s always like that anyway.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” He says disapprovingly.

Minhee pulls you into a tight hug and you instantly relax. Your brain starts to overthink everything again. The lack of proudness from your mother, the kisses from Sunghoon, and the brotherly affection you’re currently receiving. Could you have it all? Getting to know Sunghoon tonight, you don’t think you can leave it where you did. There was something there between you both, you fit together like skates to ice.

“I am so proud of you, Bubs.” Minhee strokes the back of your head, “and I might not be able to go to your ceremony, but when I beat that prick and come first at Nationals? I’m dedicating that to you. I promise you that.”

That prick…Park Sunghoon.

You couldn’t have it all.

taglist: @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @ariadores @chwesuh-imnida

#enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #aj writes #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha fluff #sunghoon x reader

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charmedreincarnation · 5 months

Note

I shifted using the void state!

I'm getting straight to the point because I know people don't like long success stories, but I used these two posts to finally shift to my desired reality and manifest my dream life.

Rotten’s Practical Guide to Shifting Realities

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zgrhCYyct7xV4j7d7qYFcoO8bAMx5Jqdb3NGoO81Oqs/edit

Reddit Post: The Power of the Void State

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/s/XMIo5TPYlM

Anyways, when I learned about the void state on Reddit, I was instantly captivated. I mean, who wouldn't be? The idea of not only using it for shifting but also manifesting my dream life for myself and my family felt like a dream come true. That's when I came across the second post I shared about the void state, and eventually, the first document I shared. They were incredibly informative and completely changed my perspective on shifting and the law of the universe.

I went on to stalk many of the recommended success stories on Reddit, exploring posts and comment sections that mentioned you. You seemed to be a common denominator in their journeys, helping them shift or guiding them with your posts. It made me happy to see your positive influence, even though your posts were from years ago and it seemed like you no longer have an account. Unfortunately, many other creators' posts were either inactive or banned due to Reddit's strict rules which is really annoying.

However, someone made a post about you, and one of your friends ended up commenting with your Tumblr account. So, I gathered a lot of valuable information from your account and a few others (like Fleur, Pink, Rem, Sexy Dream Girl, etc.) on Tumblr.

I must say, the Tumblr shifting and void community is miles ahead of Reddit and Amino. I was shocked that I hadn't come across this community before. Reddit is just starting to talk about the Law of assumption and the void, whereas you guys have been immersed in it for years. I even encountered some misconceptions on Reddit, where people still think the void can only be used for shifting and not for waking up in a whole new life. 🙄

Regardless, finding this app was the motivation I needed, and I discovered so much valuable information. I ended up using your theta wave method, combined with the first Reddit post I sent, to enter the void and shift to my dr. It's truly mind-blowing how easy it all was.

I can vouch for this process. All you need are the two Reddit posts I shared, as the guide is highly regarded within the shifting community, along with a few trustworthy Tumblr bloggers. I've been part of the shifting community since 2017, so I've seen it all, and I managed to shift within just two and a half weeks of finding these resources. Even though I was struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, I realized it doesn't have to hinder your journey.

I wanted to share my experience here, and I might make a post on Reddit too. However, they have become stricter with success stories due to anti-troll measures, and it takes weeks to even months for anything to be processed. So, I wanted to share my journey here first.

I also recommend this: https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/s/daFCQdyHim because it helped me understand what shifting really is. Manifesting too!

Lastly I'm 26 years old, and I've noticed that Reddit tends to have a more adult audience compared to Tumblr. At first, it felt nice to be surrounded by fellow adults discussing shifting. On the other hand, seeing Tumblr mostly filled with teens and younger adults made me wonder if it's easier for them, especially without the weight of responsibilities that often come with age.

But let me tell you, age is not a factor that determines our success in shifting. Whether you're 13 or 55, it doesn't matter. This is something we can all engage in, no matter our age.

Sure, there might be some challenges that come with getting older. As we accumulate more life experiences, doubts tend to creep in, and we become more logical. But guess what? Those doubts and logical thinking don't define our ability to shift realities. They are simply hurdles for us to overcome.

Hi love! I've spent some time going through all the resources you shared, and they've been incredibly helpful! Actually i have seen that guide in so many places, and it's truly enlightening. Thank you for sharing these amazing tools with us!

And yes, I wholeheartedly agree with what you said. age and doubt really do have no place in our journey they really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

I used to engage with @theastralplaneandbeyond5487 on Amino and Reddit too. He also has an informative YouTube channel and is in his 50s, I believe. His experiences and insights are rlly helpful and further show that age is just a number in this journey.

His journey showed me that we can do whatever we we want , regardless of our age. It's a beautiful reminder that we're all capable of creating and experiencing whatever we want 🩵

Also omg my Reddit era in 2021 was so fun. I’m glad it’s still helping people though my views have definitely evolved :D!

#law of assumption #manifesation #void state #reality shifting #shiftblr #void success

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thatfreshi · 8 months

Note

OKAY OKAY LET ME COOK TAV HAS AN ABUSIVE EX LOVER AND ASTARION AND TAV RUN INTO THEM

We're all just trying to cook out here, let us cook!

TW - run-in with abusive ex, bf and ex get into a fight

Recommended Song: I Didn't Change My Number - Billie Eilish

Evening walks, humidity in the air from the day's rain, hands intertwined. You can't ask for much more. While you and Astarion enjoy a good party-filled night, it's nice to simply observe the bustle of dusk, lovers just now finding each other in alleyways, ridiculous drunken fights. It's fun, making little comments about the surrounding chaos, Astarion mostly just making fun of people's outfits.

"I mean really, I have never seen such a gaudy scarf in my life, and I've lived for almost three hundred years!"

"Yes, I remember."

"I'm just saying, truly a bad scarf."

You cling to him, as you usually do. The streets of Baldur's Gate make you nervous, so many uncertainties, especially one man. You never told Astarion about your past lover, not wanting to burden him with all of that. After all, you have no idea if he still lives in the city, but it still makes your skin crawl, knowing he's out there.

"Are you alright my sweet?"

He noticed you had slowed your steps, zoning out.

"Of course."

You smile, hiding the thoughts quite well. Eventually, the two of you make it to a quieter part of town, and you both lean against a stone building, taking in the sights of the stars. As people silently pass by, a figure makes their way towards you from the street.

"Well, if it isn't Tav? How are you old friend?"

Goosebumps, chills all across your skin. Your ex, a half-drow, eyes a burning purple. You stay silent, and Astarion simply watches the situation play out.

"Who's this?"

His gaze moves to Astarion. You wrap yourself around your lover's arm, squeezing him tight.

"Tav, would you like to go?"

Practically ignoring the drow, he turns to you, trying to deal with your fingers digging into his skin. You nod.

"Now hold on, I just wanted to say hi! Tav and I, we have a past together, and it just so happens I haven't seen them in a long time."

A grin grows across his face, disgustingly intrigued by your current circumstances.

"Yeah... hi."

You don't make eye contact, simply agreeing. Not liking the way things are progressing, Astarion goes to grab for the dagger under his coat, keeping his hand on the handle.

"Oh, so your new lover thinks he's so scary, huh? I'm sure you've told him all about me, right?"

"Aster, let's just go, please."

Your voice is practically a whisper at this point.

"Hold on darling, it's okay. I've got you."

He steps between you and the drow.

"Unless you want to be splayed all over the cobblestones, I'd suggest you move along now."

The drow steps to him.

"Splayed? Are you sure about that pretty boy?"

You didn't remember just how tall he was, making Astarion look tiny.

"Astarion!"

You plead, scared that he's bit off more than he can chew.

"Aw, scared for the pretty elf are you? Seems things haven't changed, you're still just a fearful mouse, prey."

He's said too much now, and the vampire pulls his dagger, meeting the drow's knife. While he's distracted trying to hold off Astarion's blade, the second dagger comes out, piercing right through the drow's stomach. He got him good, knowing right where to stab that would make him bleed profusely, but not kill him, not if he was quick. Your ex cries out in pain, he wasn't expecting the second blade. Astarion pulls him in by the collar.

"I never want to see you in this city again, understand?"

Still wheezing in shock, the drow nods, clutching at his stomach. Astarion smiles, content with his work.

"Good. Now, I would get someone to patch that up soon, lest you bleed out in the dark somewhere."

With that, he scurries off into the darkness, and you realize a few people were staring at the spectacle.

"Apologies, nothing to see here!"

Astarion waves off the strangers, and turns back to you.

"Are you alright my dear?"

You're still in shock, not expecting to see him here, now. You nod, wrapping yourself around his arm again.

"It's okay my love, it's over."

You mumble, lying against his arm.

"I know, I just-"

"Shhh, hush now. Let's go home, alright?"

You nod, weeping from the fear that still hasn't dissipated. He wipes away your tears, and you try to smile at him.

"Thank you."

"Of course my sweet, anything for you, always."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort

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auspicioustidings · 5 months

Text

The Revelation

Summary: You are pretty happy with the cult you have made for yourself, but when two newcomers show up you can't help but think how far you could go with this.

(this is a one-shot, I stg if your only comment on this is to say 'part 2' I will feed you to the tomato plants! If you like it and have brain worms about it by all means send those to me and we can bounce ideas around)

Words: 6.6k

CWs: Cult shit, dubcon (everyone is manipulating each other here), light petplay (hope you're proud of yourself Bo I am incapable of writing Ghoap without Johnny being a puppy now), smut, murder, slight allusion to cannibalism (in a round about way, just putting it here for safety), Catholicism

The Death of God happened on a gloomy Thursday afternoon. One moment he had been mowing the lawn and the next thing he had an epiphany about hating his suburban life, hating his suburban wife, hating the 2 kids and hating the lawnmower he had spent his last bonus on.

The Revelation happened on a sunny Friday morning when you had popped up on his tiktok feed and told him that you understood him, that you were there for him. He had made his way to the commune, telling his wife it was just a visit to find himself. And he did. Which of course meant he never came home.

Truly you would consider yourself some what of a miracle working taking in this portly, charisma void of a businessman and turning him into some semblance of interesting. Well as interesting as anyone in this little slice of heaven. He had a fascination with growing tomatoes now. Good for him.

The hundreds of little deaths of God had been great for business. When someone had a crisis, when someone thought they were broken, when someone just couldn't fucking take it anymore, that's when they were so desperate to believe in something that you could make them happy with a smile and a kind word every so often. You could keep them happy (well, what they believed was happy and wasn't that all that mattered?) by keeping them a little tired, a little hungry and occasionally a little high. Good for the soul really, that's what you always said.

Surely you deserved to live on a steady diet of champagne, strawberries and decadence for all the good work you did. They all understood how difficult it was to be you. And despite your trials weren't you still so lovely to them? Even when they acted out you were gentle in your reminders that they needed fixing, that you were only ever there to help, that their friends and families would try and convince them otherwise because they didn't understand what it was to be broken. You opened your arms to them always, it was in their nature to err and in yours to forgive.

Honestly you could keep this up for the rest of your life. A small group of people devoted to you, happy in their worship and happy in their toil. No violence needed to keep them compliant, just a soft touch and the occasional psychological torture as necessary. You had no aspirations to go beyond this, you had it good. No need for a death cult or to make yourself an actual God to them. You already had your champagne and strawberries after all, life was good.

–

They were big, these two new men to your little oasis. It would be a tricky thing to half starve them you thought, but then it would also be a shame to have them lose all that bulk that you found you quite enjoyed looking at. Still, it was important for enlightenment and all that.

So you gave them a steady supply of soft smiles and reassuring touches, a diet of “yes this is an eco-living commune!” and “oh I never thought anyone would want to join me out here, I just got very lucky that so many wonderful people share the same morals.” They went easy of course, ex-military, used to structure and relying on someone above them to do the thinking. Perfect for you really, just two attack dogs that were impeccably trained.

They neglected to tell you that they hadn't been regular military, that they had been high ranked special operators in an elite task force. That would have made you suspicious after all and it was better you thought them stupid. Johnny had seen you on tiktok and wanted you and Simon never denied his boy anything, so here they were, playing you completely into their hands.

First it was getting themselves special privileges, unlimited access to food, a home right next to yours, full evenings of rest. Hadn't been hard to make you think it was your idea.

“Och it's alright lass, I ken we're naw military anymore. Dinnae need tae be a lean, mean, killing machine oot here.”

“Of course not Johnny, I'd hope you think you're very safe here.”

“Aye, feel safe with you. Ye look after us. Wish ye would let us look after you more!”

“I don't need anymore than I already have, but it's so wonderful of you to say, truly.”

Then a few days later when there had been time for that little declaration to settle in.

“Simon! How are you, I didn't see you yesterday.”

“Sorry, pulled my shoulder something awful. Felt like a right git not being able to do work properly.”

“Oh that's terrible, how did you pull it?”

“Ah just lack of training is all. Too used to being strong, retirement doesn't really lend itself to that.”

“You're still plenty strong!”

“I hope so. Some of the things I hear about what people's families think of you… if it ever came down to it, I want you to know I'd protect you with my life. Both me and Johnny would, strong or not.”

You had really been given an absolute gift here. That was something that had been making you a little paranoid. If family members escalated to violence there was really nothing you could do. You were a lover (here meaning awful con artist but that was just semantics) not a fighter. And now there was a solution right in your lap.

“How would you and Johnny feel about being security then? I'd hate to think we'd ever need it of course, but it would make people feel safer. Some of their families are terrible people I'm afraid, I don't want anyone to get hurt because someone tries something violent” you said gently, of course concerned for these innocent people being viciously abused by their awful families (these brainwashed people being taken by their loved ones to recover and live meaningful lives again, lives which did not involved maintaining your champagne and strawberry habit).

“If you ask us of course we'd never say no, it's just… would it be ok to have an hour a day to train? It's such an honour to protect this place, not looking to half arse it.”

“Of course! Come to my house with Johnny after supper and we can discuss some accommodations for your new roles.”

–

“How does that sound?” you asked, soft as silk.

You knew how it sounded, it sounded like you were the damn second coming. Giving them unrestricted food and sleep, telling them you'd have a house for them built right by your side? You knew it was working by how Johnny's eyes had went big and wet, projecting puppy-like adoration. And Simon? Oh that big, delicious man stood and walked over to you so he could kneel at your feet. Fuck you had never felt better about yourself.

“We don't deserve so much of your consideration. I-” he said, the first time you had heard him struggle to get words out through his emotion. “I want to thank you properly.”

He said it like it was a revelation and it peaked your interest. You could have squealed with delight when his cheek leant against your knee, your dress pushed by his face to let skin meet skin, eyes locked with yours as he turned to kiss your flesh. You hadn't fucked any of your followers, too messy. But these weren't regular followers anymore right? No, these were special followers. And it had been so long and he was looking at you like he was desperate to give you any pleasure he could.

Oh Simon was desperate all right, had been thinking about getting you sloppy and pathetic for him since Johnny had excitedly shown him that bloody video of you acting like an innocent little lamb. He wanted to just barrel in, bend you over and claim you right away. It was Johnny who insisted it would be more fun to trick you, who had whined like a bitch about it until he got his way. Bloody MacTavish. He really needed to train those puppy dog eyes right out of the boy. Those had got him to indulge in all sort of risks already. Nearly fucked the whole plan right up when you had come dangerously close to catching him balls deep in Johnny in your bed, absolutely ruining him as per his own puppy dog eyed request.

For his part Johnny was positively giddy. He might give away the game if he really got to watch Simon taste you. Would he play gently with you? Oh my God would he pretend he was inexperienced to make you feel superior? Let you think you were guiding him? That might kill him dead. He tried to not fucking salivate and start panting at the thought of it.

“Then thank me properly.”

Fuck the way his eyes lit up at that. This gorgeous man wanted you, he wanted to please you. As a hand squeezed your calf and he started to drag his mouth up your bare leg you felt the sick thrill of wondering how far they would go for you. Already people had given up families, friends, wealth. You had never pushed it beyond, horrified whenever you thought about how delicious it would be if they would die for you, kill for you and so shoving those dark thoughts to the back of your mind.

But you didn't want Simon to die for you. You did want to see how far you could push, how deep his devotion ran. To that end you wove fingers through his hair and pulled him off of your thigh, his eyes flickering from your wet panties sticking to your cunt up to your own eyes in question.

“I want you to kiss Johnny.”

You said it like a woman possessed. Fuck. That's exactly what you wanted. You wanted these big masculine men to fuck against their own desires but do it for you. They were dumb jocks really, probably had never fumbled around with another man before. They'd find it hard, find it wrong. You didn't really consider yourself a bad person before this moment, just a clever one. This was straying into something else, some monstrous part of you that was salivating with the thought of finally being released.

“Will you do that for me?”

You heard a choked sort of noise and looked over to see Johnny hiding his face in his hands. Of course, big Scottish man must be scared of doing such a thing. Or rather having such a thing done to him. You imagined it would be some attack to his sense of self to have a bigger man press a kiss onto him. Fuck maybe he would tear up. Maybe he would fully cry if Simon pushed inside of him. You hoped that God really was dead because if not you were sure They'd have some stern words for you after this.

“Oh I've never…”

Fuuuuuck. Simon's vulnerable eyes darting from Johnny to you were liable to make you cum on the fucking spot. You smiled indulgently down on him, running a hand over his face is a caress.

“You know I only ever do what's best for you don't you? I wouldn't ever ask you to do anything that isn't for the greater good. Do you believe in me Simon?” you said, the years of practice infusing your tone with a cloying sweetness.

“Yes” he replied, barely a breathy whisper of affirmation.

His glazed eyes looked at you with such adoration before he nuzzled his face into your hand and left a kiss there before making his way across to where Johnny was sitting on the sofa, face still hidden in his hands. He went over on his knees, crawled. You pressed your fingers against your throbbing clit, cupping yourself to try and tell your body to calm down because there was so much more to come.

Simon crawled between Johnny’s legs, going up on his knees and grabbing Johnny’s nape to drag his face down. He was whispering something in his ear, maybe trying to settle him, trying to assure him this was what they needed to do for you. Of course had you been aware Simon was hissing at Johnny to keep it together, to stop laughing about how easily you were falling for this, then the whole thing would really have been ruined. Luckily Johnny was still a soldier, Simon still his LT, so when he was ordered to put his game face on he did it. And luckily Johnny was still a good boy, Simon was still his master, so he knew that squeezing at his pup's nape always got that furrow in his brow to relax, got him eager to please and ready to tear up at the first little tease or overstimulation.

It was really destiny that you would be this level of power hungry, this eager to push and see what you could make people do. He had been training Johnny to put all his eager to please energy to good use for years, had turned a feral mutt into a feral mutt with impeccable training. The chance to turn a corrupt fox into a corrupt fox whose only desire was to be stroked and pampered was making him painfully hard. Johnny had been right, tricking you was far more delicious than just forcing you into it.

When he moved Johnny’s hands from his face it was to reveal a man looking ruined, looking liquid eyed and flushed. Simon mouthed a good boy to him before pressing a kiss to his lips. It was calculatedly shy and tentative and he kept a steadying hand on Johnny’s knee, squeezing when he felt he might lose control and start panting and licking his way into his mouth as he usually tried to do. Simon couldn’t very well punish him right now without giving the game away, so he just had to use the suggestion of a future punishment.

After the first peck you watched a slow and decadent slide into forbidden desire. They got a little bolder with each press of lips, seemed to squirm a bit more with the struggle of it feeling good but wrong. When Simon pulled away and Johnny whined despite himself you slid your hand past your waistband, needing to touch yourself or you’d die.

“You’d like it if Simon used his tongue wouldn’t you Johnny? Would be nice to feel it against yours. It’s important that you two are close isn’t it? To do your jobs well that is.”

Johnny would have agreed with full enthusiasm and pounced Simon to get them both on the floor so he could rut his hips down into the cock he was desperate for, but the hand at his bad knee squeezed again and the spark of pain reminded him of the mission. So instead he looked at you, teary and unsure.

“H-his tongue? I… I’m naw…”

“You’re not what Johnny?”

“It’s wrong.”

“Who told you that?”

You watched him play with the thin chain around his neck, the crucifix falling out of his shirt. Catholic. Oh this must be even more torturous for him. No matter, you had killed plenty of Gods already, you could kill his. Watch guilt eat and eat and eat at him until finally he gave in to the desire. Gave in to you. Let any other divine figure die in favour of a new God.

“Oh Johnny, do you think I would lead you into temptation? It’s ok, I would never make you. If you don’t like it that’s fine, you can both call it a night hm? Security is a tough job, I would never think less of you for not being up to the task. My fault really, I must have mistaken the potential I saw in you.”

He surged forward and shoved his tongue past Simon’s teeth and you moaned deeply, fingers so slippery that getting proper friction on your clit was a challenge now. You did not think you had ever been so wet in your life, feeling slick trickle out of you as they clumsily seemed to fight for dominance, saliva dripping down Johnny’s chin from how much he was trying to follow your instructions, how deep he was trying to pull Simon’s tongue with his into his mouth.

When they next pulled away they both seemed dazed, like they couldn't believe they had just done that. Poor Simon turned to look at your pleadingly, legs widening so you could see he was straining against his pants. He was rock solid from making out with Johnny and you were cumming all at once, hips rolling in time with your fingers as you breathed out instructions with your cunt still clenching in waves.

“Good, so good for me. Want you both to cum, get all of that tension out. Wouldn't ever leave you wanting would I?”

They both looked needy, but the fact that they quietly waited for instructions on how to cum was possibly the most erotic thing you had ever seen.

“It's OK, you can help each other. That's what it's all about here isn't it? Helping those in need in the community, and you're both in need. Jerk your cocks together, it'll be bonding for you to cum together like that.”

They fucking did it. Simon shoved his pants down enough to free the absolute monster of a cock he had and dragged Johnny only his lap on the floor. Johnny's cock was thick as anything and just as hard. Fuck the image of Johnny taking Simon’s cock, taking every hard inch of him in his ass. Crying about how it wouldn't fit, how it was wrong. Clutching his crucifix. You needed to make it happen soon. Maybe you could make Johnny wear a plug, say it was part of training. Get him ready to be fucked by his friend and once superior without him ever realising that's what you were doing.

Their precum was already making the slide of it easier as Simon took the lead, big hand wrapping around both of them and slowly pumping, staring at it in fascination. You were slowly overstimulating your clit, feeling that tension start growing again already.

“Spit on it Johnny.”

He did it without hesitation, his saliva making Simon’s jerking squelch. It didn't take long until Johnny was begging, needing to cum. You didn't even register that it wasn't you he was looking at as he begged, you were too lost in sensation, eyes locked on their cocks rubbing together.

“Go on, cum. Both of you.”

Simon sped his hand and his low grunt (the ‘s’ok pup, cum’ so low you hadn’t heard it over your pleasure) combined with Johnny's drooling and panting sent you spiralling over the edge again as they both shot ropes of sticky cum all over each other.

Fuck. What else could you make people do?

–

Over the next few weeks life got even easier for you. Simon and Johnny were excellent right hands, earning respect from all of your followers and taking on almost all of the tasks you had (which you had made sure were as minimal as possible already, the whole point of this endeavour was to live an easy life).

Simon was careful to make sure to be seen with you, start planting the seeds in people's minds that they were an extension of you. Johnny was rapidly losing patience which made him incredibly satisfying to fuck because he got to beat every single complaint out of him. It was him that wanted to go this route so he was going to finish what he started. It had been a long time since he had seen Johnny get so worked up over anything and he forgot how much he enjoyed him when he was like this, biting at every little bit of bait that Simon left with the express purpose of having an excuse to punish him later for it.

Johnny needed putting down when he got this wound up, at this point Simon had taken him over his knee at least once a day, collared and leashed him most nights, fucked him silly so much that he was constantly aching and plugged to keep ready for a quickie when he needed it. Which right now was inhumanly often and with them still in the bunkhouse they were having to get very creative with the venue. Johnny was going especially feral given that you had only been alone with them once more since you had promoted them and you had acted like last time had never happened. Clever actually, Simon had to hand it to you, you were very good at playing with people. He could see the little glimmer in your eye, the delight at seeing how Johnny seemed to be vibrating with anticipation of something that never came. You were setting him up to beg, making sure that when he gave in and went directly against his God that it would be him pleading for you to let him do so.

It wasn’t like you had ever been close enough to tell, but that little cross around Johnny’s neck had SR carved into the back of it. Simon had corrupted the Roman Catholic out of this pup years ago, the cross only came out on special occasions when Johnny wanted to play coy and innocent or when Simon wanted to remind him who he belonged to (because it certainly wasn’t a God, it was his fucking lieutenant). Well and now, when they both knew the sight of it would give you such a power trip that you’d fall right into their trap.

“I was thinking about your house” you said, the three of you standing where the foundations were already being put down.

“Aye?”

“It just seems such a waste when I have extra bedrooms in my home.”

“It would be such an honour to stay in any of them. Would we not be intruding?”

“Of course not Simon, you are my right hand men now. It makes sense for you to stay close to me. To one another.”

You swore you could see Johnny’s ears perk up, a phantom tail flicking quickly behind him in rapt attention at that. Of course their minds would go there, just like you wanted them to. It hadn’t been too difficult for you to be patient, to play with them so that you didn’t push too far too fast. It was something you were very good at.

“Would you… still let us build something here?”

“Oh?”

“I think a temple of sorts would be nice. Somewhere for you to relax. You work so hard for all of us and if you are taking us into your space I’d hate for you to have nowhere to go to meditate alone.”

It only took a few days to wear you down. You had no idea how much influence they already had with your followers, how easy it was for them to plant that idea there and have them be the ones appealing to you to please allow them to do this for you. And while that shred of morality you had left was screaming at you not to do this, not to actually Deify yourself lest it go too far, the adoration inflated your ego and drowned your conscience out.

So they started to build your temple.

–

“Ah! Like that. That’s it, that’s what I need” you moaned out, Simon in between your legs worshipping.

You had moved them into your home, the large house comfortable and spacious in comparison to the bunkhouse the other followers stayed in, and that night Simon had come to your room and gotten on his knees for you. How could you say no to him?

The adoration of your followers was nothing compared to this. They loved you yes, but fuck Simon was reverant, tongue swirling around your cunt so there was more holy water for him to glut himself on. This was decadent, languid on your bed with him focusing entirely on your pleasure, expecting nothing in return. This man who was spending his days by your side, overlooking the building of a temple in your honour. You could not decide in this moment if you wanted him to fuck you on the altar when it was done or if you wanted to fuck him.

It was a good conundrum to have because you felt that you could simply have both. You could have whatever the fuck you wanted with this man by your side. Who could stand against him and Johnny? And who would ever worship you more? You had never actually bought your own bullshit before, but if he kept this up maybe you were some sort of God because how else could you be living this deliciously?

You tugged his hair sharply to get him off of you and pushed at him until he was on his back. You would take what you wanted from him because it was your right to do so. He did not complain as you settled your cunt on his face and rode him, if anything his clever tongue worked harder to please you. You held his head and used him, and he drank you down and thanked you for the privilege after, vanishing out of your room as silently as he had arrived.

–

It only took another few weeks for Johnny to break and oh he broke so perfectly. Simon came to your room every night to pray, and Johnny must know, must have heard how Simon spilled thank yous against your cunt even as you pushed down to deprive him of oxygen, even as you smeared your slick all over his face, moving exactly as you liked with no consideration of him. You never touched him in any way meant for his pleasure, only to use him for yours.

It was not Simon who knocked lightly on the door. Simon didn’t knock at all, he always just let himself in.

“Come in Johnny.”

He was nervous, that much was clear. You did enjoy the sight of him in only his boxers and crucifix, moonlight doing wonders in making him look incredibly edible. You wanted to knead his pecs like they were tits, wanted to sink your teeth into the meat of his neck until you tasted blood and he cried out your name instead of his God’s.

“I want…”

“Hm? You want?”

“Will ye let me please ye? I ken Si… I’m naw good enough for ye, but I want tae be. It’s just, I’ve never uh… I’m a quick study.”

And with perfect timing, in walked Simon. Couldn’t have planned it better yourself (well, actually Johnny had planned it, Simon had laughed and ruffled his hair at how eager he had been to act the part of the blushing virgin before unhooking the leash and getting him out of his collar and into his crucifix).

“Good evening Simon” you purred.

The man didn’t really acknowledge that Johnny was in the room, instead going to his place by the foot of your bed and kneeling. It was always where you started, with him lapping at you until you ordered him onto the bed or the floor so you could take what you needed. Only you pushed him away with your foot when he tried to pull at your shorts, holding him at leg length and looking at Johnny.

“Come sit will you?”

He nervously shuffled over, sitting next to you on the bed with his eyes darting uncomfortably down to Simon kneeling pretty, your foot still holding him away from you. He swallowed and you thought it sweet how he held your gaze to avoid watching as you motioned for Simon to move and he did so without hesitation. Johnny still didn’t look at him even as you put a hand to his knee to make him spread his legs enough for Simon’s broad shoulders to fit between them.

“If you want to learn I’d never stop you Johnny, I want you to be the best at the things you’d like. And I’m sure Simon makes a wonderful teacher.”

Simon didn’t need prompting, obedient and perfect boy that he was. He started licking up Johnny’s thick thigh the same way he would have if you were sitting there. Johnny, bless him, gripped onto your leg like it was a lifeline, fingers digging into the plush flesh hard enough that you imagined it may leave marks. You swallowed his loud whine with your mouth when Simon slipped his boxers down and took his hard cock right to the root. It almost made you laugh, if you tried to take that in your throat you would certainly be gagging and crying.

When you pulled away Johnny was a whining mess, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other still dug into the fat of your thigh. You wondered if he had ever gotten head. Certainly not from another man. Oh wouldn’t his priest be so disappointed in him. You could imagine a severe man in the robes of God, looking with disgust at the whore before him. But you were a kinder creature, letting him indulge in pleasure without telling him he couldn’t.

Well, to a point. You pushed Simon to stop with the frankly immaculate looking blow job when it was clear from Johnny’s hips rutting that he was close. Then you swung your leg around, straddling Johnny and squeezing yourself to him, stopping him from trying to get friction from you.

“Not yet Johnny, you need to be patient hm? Simon, open him up. Tongue first, then fingers.”

Johnny was tearing up, looking at you like he didn’t understand why you were doing this while feeling horribly guilty that he liked it. He howled when Simon’s tongue started playing at his rim, his hands gripping at your hips to try and make you move against him. You put a hand to his throat and squeezed lightly.

“It’s ok, you can take it can’t you?”

“I-I cannae, please bonnie, I’m naw- I dinnae-” he whined before he choked on nothing, eyes blown wide, “h-his tongue is, fuck it’s inside.”

“I know Johnny, I know. Is it too much then? Should I tell him to stop? If you can’t take it, then at least you tried” you said, sweet as anything but putting a tiny edge of disappointment into your tone.

“I can take it! Please, I can! Dinnae make him stop, I can take whatever ye gie me!”

“Good boy.”

Oh, the reaction to those two words was worth exploring. It was like he changed from a man to some pathetic animal, eyes watery and begging, hands pawing at your hips while his own desperately tried to buck up. You felt how he froze, heard how he choked when Simon pressed a finger into him.

“Hmm that’s it, take what you’re given, you’ll be good and hold off for me hm?” you cooed, moving a hand to run fingers under his chain, all the way around until you were behind his neck and could yank, have that crucifix choking him. “Looks better like this Johnny, almost like a pretty collar for you.”

Jackpot. Even with you clamping down to give him as little room for friction as possible you felt the hot gush of his cum, him getting there from being choked, being compared to a dog to be collared. Well if he was going to be a mutt that came without your permission, the permission of his master, then he needed to learn his place no?

“Fuck pet, told you to be patient.”

“Sorry, m’sorry bonnie. Ah! M-make him stop, s’too much!”

“Make him stop? But he’s been good for me, followed everything I’ve asked, You went ahead and finished without permission. Wouldn’t make sense to punish him and reward you, I need to be fair pet.”

He was clearly overstimulated, his hips trying to rut even as he gasped at every bit of friction he got. Oh you wanted to see him fucked out and ruined. You wanted his heart on a fucking platter.

“More Simon. Johnny here is going to let you fuck him tonight, so you need to open him up properly.”

“I-I-” Johnny stuttered, bottom lip quivering and eyes wide and wet. If you weren't so high on the decadence of having these two men at your mercy you’d have questioned just how practised that was.

“Tell me Johnny. Tell me what it is you want.”

Tell me what it is I want to hear that you want. Be a good boy, don’t disappoint me. You’d hate to disappoint me after all I’ve done for you.

“I want Simon tae fuck me tonight.”

“Good boy” you said, hammering that final nail in God’s coffin as you yanked again at the chain so hard it snapped, taking your trophy and tossing it onto your desk without ever having examined it closely.

You watched Simon ruin him at your command. You drank their praise like champagne, bit into their gratitude like strawberries bursting their juice on your chin. You were greedy in how many times you used them for your pleasure, their fingers, their tongues, the sight of them overcome with hedonistic abandon.

You felt like a God.

–

The temple was beautiful, no effort or expense spared. The first floor was a space for everyone, for the brand new community gatherings that you occasionally led but had mostly been letting Simon and Johnny lead. Above that was two glorious floors of space only for you. The only other people permitted to set foot in here were your two right hands. It was something else, being in the luxuriant bed drinking champagne and watching the two of them play with each other for your benefit.

You could not stop thinking about the way Johnny had writhed at the mention of a collar when you had taken his crucifix for yourself (it still sat on the desk right where you had left it). You could not stop imagining how such a thing would look around his thick neck, how your other followers would look at it and be jealous that he got to be so visibly claimed by you.

As always your wish was their command. Simon had presented you with a gorgeous necklace of sorts, almost a choker, the pendant a symbol you didn’t recognise.

“This doesn’t look like a collar for you.”

“It’s for you. The symbol is from the cult of Venus, we thought… well we thought if you could wear it, show people, then when we wore it…”

“You want them to know you are wearing it for me.”

Perfect fucking boys weren’t they. They didn’t just want to show up in a collar, they wanted to show up in a symbol associated with you. It was pretty enough what they had chosen, delicate and clearly made with care and devotion. You turned and lifted your hair so he could put it on you and the very next community gathering was Johnny eagerly explaining the symbol to your followers. It was etched into the temple walls soon after.

–

The realisation happened all at once. You only attended community gatherings for special occasions now and when you did they were all looking at you like you were their God made flesh. Your followers had become something else, something well beyond a little eco-living commune. That had not been your doing.

The door was locked. You could not leave your space in the Temple. Your hand flew to the back of your necklace, realising with a startle that you couldn’t take it off. Simon and Johnny never did have collars made. Why would they? You were rapidly realising they had never intended to. You looked in the mirror, tried to find a clue. The pendant… it was only when you drew it over and over again that you figured it out. This wasn’t some symbol of an old Goddess, it was the letters S R J M twisted around to make a pretty symbol. You sat and stewed, waiting for them to get back. When they did you were sat on the bed, glowering at them.

“Aww ye figure us out bonnie?”

“You played me.”

“Like a fucking violin sweetheart” Simon cooed, walking over to flick the pendant.

You huffed up at him. Everything was completely fucked now. You had all but ordered your followers to treat these two as your spokesmen. You had been slowly vanishing from public life, ingraining in their minds that you were a God who lived in a temple and only graced them with your presence when they had really earned it. All this after years of breaking them down so they thought nothing they ever did was good enough, so of course they would never think they had earned it.

And you had never used violence for anything, you were soft and lived on champagne and strawberries for fuck sake, it wasn’t like you could brute force your way out of this. You were enough of a schemer to know when you had been outplayed.

“So the little shy virginal act?”

Johnny laughed and came over to nuzzle into your hair.

“Ye’d naw believe how many times Si has been in my arse hen, this isnae even the first house of God he’s bent me over in.”

You scowled and pushed his head away, but his eyes only sparkled with excitement as he bullied it right back into nuzzling you like a fucking dog.

“Pup has been so excited about you finally figuring it out. You’ve been teasing him for months now, don’t think it’s time to give him a treat for how well behaved he’s been for you?”

It’s not like you were against the idea, it had been delicious being the dominant one all this time but there was something interesting about the idea of letting Simon take control, letting him get Johnny to fuck you the way you had let him fuck Johnny. Because that would be the case you knew now. It was so obvious knowing what you knew, you really should have figured out way sooner that Simon had always been in control. All the things you had done since he got here that you had thought your ideas weren’t yours at all, he had put them in your head.

“So that’s it then? You keep me here and take over?”

Simon was looking at you with something deranged behind those eyes. It was dreadfully exciting.

“You're coming to tonight's community gathering. You can decide if puppy gets a treat after that.”

–

The Birth of God happened on that brilliant Friday evening. One moment you had been fighting against your conscience, and the next you had let go. You had walked forward, no floated, and pressed a holy kiss to his head. Watching one of your followers plunge a knife into the heart of another on your altar, both with a smile on their faces, was fucking beautiful.

The Revelation happened about the same time. You dipped your fingers in the blood (the same colour as those tomatoes he so loved, the tomatoes that his body would feed and your followers would eat) and marked his murderer with your symbol, the initials of the men that had made you God.

Puppy had more than earned his treat.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #please read the cws #also please let me exist on champagne and strawberries because I am OVER IT #if I was not a depressed little mess and could actually write smut right now you would have gotten reader getting railed on a bloody altar #would have been great

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thatone-brightstar · 11 months

Text

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 11: Collateral Damage

Words: 5.8k

Summary: It's been a month since your breakup with Carmy and Syd wouldn't ask for your help unless they were absolutely slammed.

a/n: 1 more chapter + epilogue to go and I don't know what to do with myselffff!!!!

Thank you for sticking around thus far and commenting is always appreciated!

Heartbreak is a funny little thing. You can walk a delicate line all your life to avoid feeling it, but one way or another it’ll find you. It’s the eternal debate: To avoid all and spare yourself from hurt, but live a life of emptiness and quiet; or to welcome the pain like an old friend, at peace and knowing you never stopped trying. Everyone chooses a side at some point, but you’re never really spared from it.

You’ve always hated the part of you that feels too deeply. The one that created stories out of strangers, wonder struck by microseconds of eye contact, then shattered when they step off the train. The one that no matter how many times was dolefully blown into the ground, it still believes in good grace and happy endings.

“So yeah… That’s basically it since the last time I saw you.” You say, twirling the small ring with the aquamarine stone that you had stopped wearing long ago. You look up to the woman sitting across from you and ask “What? You asked me how I was.”

“And I wasn’t expecting a two hour monologue.”

“Well what did you expect? Haven’t seen you in months, I needed to vent…” You fight back.

You can hear the soft scribbles of her pen for a couple minutes and you make yourself comfortable against the soft pillows that fill up most of her couch.

“So, how long has it been?” She speaks again.

“Bout a month…” You sigh.

“And have either of you tried reaching out?”

“No, I-” You take a breath and ponder over the question, the single unanswered text weighing heavy on your phone. “I wouldn’t know what to say. Besides, I’ve been too busy with my paintings and helping out with the auction. I don’t really have time for… anything else. I-I guess he’s been busy too.”

“But you still know what he’s up to?” She asks with raised brows.

You shrug with a single shoulder and chew at your thumbnail with slight nerves. “Syd talks about work sometimes, when we go out. But I think she kinda feels guilty for bringing him up. I told her it’s fine.” The woman looks at you skeptically through the small circular glasses. “I’m fine.” You half lie. “I am, it's just… The auction is this weekend and they’re catering so… I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel…”

“Because you’ll see him again?”

“...Yeah.”

The woman calls your name again and you rip your eyes from the ring on your finger, heavy inside your own head to hear her question.

“So, is your set finished?” She asks to change the conversation.

“Mhm. It only took me a couple weeks to finish but -” Your smile curls slowly at the edge of your lips. “I'm really proud of them.”

“That’s great to hear.” She whispers with a genuine smile. “You know, heartbreak can also be a beautiful thing. It’s painful, yes, but it also gives a vulnerability we don’t regularly allow ourselves. It lets us create wonderful things. It’s all part of the human experience. It truly is nice to know you’re doing better, even after going MIA for months.” She says with a practiced tone mothers use to scold you.

She schedules you in for the next month and you promise to not bail this time, then walking out the office with your bag over your shoulder and a lightweight heart. The prospect of seeing him at the auction is still heavy on your mind as you make your way to the train station and the simple thought fills your chest like a crisp breath of air. ‘He could just send Syd’ you think and you try to not engage too much with the idea in fear that it may sour your good mood. Instead you focus on your steady steps and people watching, ‘whatever happens, happens.’ you mumble under your breath.

**********

Syd’s call had pulled you from the comfort of your home before the sun was even visible over the horizon. Her worried tone had you waking up instantly and darting frantically around your darkened room in search of anything that could shield you from the increasing cold, then out the door and in the dreaded direction of The Beef.

It’s been a month since you last spoke with Carmy and even though in the grand scheme of time, it’s only a mere speck of dust, to you it had felt eternal. Small snippets blur together into one long strenuous day, piggy-backing off your grief and pushing your shoulders deeper into the ground. You had called him a few days after in hopes that you could talk things over, but it went straight to voicemail. So you left a text that you anxiously waited an answer for the following days. All of a sudden, one week turned into two, then three and before you knew it, a month had gone by without a response. You kept busy picking up most of the planning to avoid any crossing thought of him, only allowing yourself to break with your canvas in front and acrylics to spear.

You had done enough to convince yourself you were fine, that even if he were to show up tomorrow and not send Syd on his behalf, you'd be fine.

Fine. Fine. Fucking fine.

Everything was fucking fine until this morning when Syd had called to ask for help at the restaurant. Richie had been arrested, the place was a mess and they were behind on prep for the event tomorrow because they were lacking hands. Protesting would only lose you time that they did not have, so in place of that you settle to ignore the treacherous wormhole vacuuming out the few remains of confidence you had saved for tomorrow as you wait for the train that’ll leave you on River North Station.

Twenty three minutes later, you're walking at a brisk pace through the streets with a thick knot for a stomach and a growing unease. You push through the door and stop in your tracks at the shock and disarray of the place.

“What the fuck? Ugh-”

The potent smell of alcohol is the first thing that invades your nose, along with the stickiness of the floor the deeper you walk into the room. There’s solo cups scattered everywhere and half working Christmas lights hanging loosely over the walls. Some frames from the front wall lay broken, spewing shards of glass all around the tiles.

“Mi amor, qué sorpresa!” You hear Tina’s voice from behind the counter and you slowly walk towards her, the small pieces shattering under the weight of your boots.

She hugs you tight and kisses your cheek. “Tina, what the hell happened in here?! It smells like the fuckin’ Hangover…”

“Ay baby, don’t even get me started with these knuckleheads-”

You take another woeful look around, then follow her inside as she recounts the little information Sydney gave them from the frantic phone call she had with Carmen. How they rented out The Beef for a bachelor’s and Richie had knocked out some drunk while defending Carmen’s ass. It’s strange to you, the pair’s relationship. How they were always ready to rip each other to pieces, but would jump to save the other without a second thought. They said they couldn’t stand one another, but you’re sure they’re something either can’t live without.

“So what, he’s in for aggravated assault?” You ask.

“Only if the guy wakes up.” Marcus answers with a broom in hand, sweeping away remnants of glitter and tinsel.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Could be 5 to 25 for accidental manslaughter…” Sweeps chimes in while carrying a full trash bag to the back.

Your throat closes up and behind your concern, you hear Marcus ask Sweeps how he knows so much about the matter. ‘Bro, I told you. I went to Harvard Law…’ ‘Oh yeah…’

You breathe in deep while maintaining the possibility of his release still in your mind and you head to Syd’s side, pulling your hair up into a ponytail automatically.

“Alright, brigade’s here. What d’you need?” You say after a quick hug hello.

“Guess you know more about it than I do…”

She’s flipping through the binder with all the recipes and images of the canapes they’d be serving, the one you helped Carmy assemble all those months back. Despite a few scribbles and notes at the foot of some recipes, it’s practically the same. You bend the corner lightly on the last page to find the miniature ‘C’ surrounded by purile hearts and your morning coffee grows knotty in your gut.

“Is he…” You try asking, but the sentence loses power half way through.

Syd seems to catch your drift. “No, no. He’s been down at the station since dawn.”

You nod absentmindedly with your eyes glued to the page.

“Okay, um. Marcus left the sourdough for the tapas rising all night yesterday, so we have a good start on that-” Syd began and you pull all your attention to the task at hand. “Beef’s already bracing in the oven but it’ll take a couple more hours. You can start with the ginger- tangerine compote. That’ll go on the brie.” She says, handing you one of the blue aprons.

“Alright, heard.” The words feel unnatural rolling off your tongue after being away from a kitchen for so long.

She leaves you in search of Fak, urging him to finish fixing the backed up sink in the Steward section. You drown out the bicker and hastily make your way into the walk-in, throwing the apron over your head and tying the back securely around your waist. It’s almost as if the familiar pressure unveils a dormant sensation and you soon find yourself navigating with ease through the skills you thought forgotten. The knife feels at home under your palm -heftier than a paint brush but still requires the same level of concentration- as you separate the tangerine supremes and add them to the pot holding clarified butter, sugar and rosemary leaves. Everyone works in a rhythmic but comfortable silence, a stark difference from the frantic, unmeasured mess they seemed to thrive in when you still worked here.

“Yo chef?” Marcus calls from your left.

You lift your head to him while you finish peeling the ginger. “What's up?”

“Mind tasting this for me? It’s for the gig but somethin’ bout the filling don’t feel right…”

You nod and wipe your hands on your rag, then take a bite into the miniature stuffed doughnut that doesn’t seem bigger than an Oreo. The flavors are too thick to tell them apart but the softness of the dough allows it to almost melt in your mouth.

“The dough’s perfect-“ You say between bites, the compliment blooming over his face into a grin. “How bout a different filling though, there’s a lot going on and you can’t really enjoy the texture.”

“Right!? See, that’s what I was thinkin’. Got anything in mind?”

“Mmm, you could try a chai cream filling.”

“Just milk and cinnamon, then?”

“Yes and also no” You answer with a smile. “Try to steep some black tea in milk with cinnamon and ginger. Then instead of sugar, add honey to your crème and the chai milk. It should be a little bit more runny so when it cools it doesn’t get that jelly-like consistency from the egg.” You finish then turn back to peeling off the skin of the ginger with your spoon.

Marcus is still standing beside you with a pleased smile. “You really know your stuff, huh? Thought you was burnt out.” and you lightly hit him over the arm with the back of your spoon.

“Oh, I can totally smoke your ass baker boy..” You grin.

Before he can fight back, a sudden commotion by the entrance has you lifting your head above the second level of the table and searching for the noise. The slick handle of the spoon almost slips past your hand when your eyes capture the image of two very sleep deprived Carmen and Richie walking through the staff door. You can see everyone showering them with attention, how Tina hugs Richie tight then smacks him hard over the head, but the loud ringing in your ears and the sudden rush of cold blood prevent you from moving any closer. Not that you’d want to anyway. You try to pull yourself together, wiping your clammy hands for the tenth time and watching them advance deeper into the room. Richie’s the first to spot you and true to his nature, he lets the whole room know that he’s seen you, with outstretched palms in your direction.

“Oh, shit! This a fuckin’ family reunion?!” His hand falls heavily over the crown of your head and you swat it away with a smack.

“How’s prison?”

“Oh, y'know…free food, can’t complain.”

“D’you get yourself a bitch?” You tease.

“Yeah, brought ‘em home, actually-” He says pointing back to Carmy, causing the forming grin on your face to fall when you see he’s been watching you. You pull your eyes from him and back to your cutting board. “Oh right, my bad…”

You shake your head, mumbling a sharp ‘asshole’ through gritted teeth. Richie takes off to the back and you’re finally left at peace.

You fall into a pronounced balance of chopping and continuously stirring the compote, until it reaches the needed consistency and you pull it off the fire to cool. You check it off Syd’s thoroughly organized list and scroll down to find the next task, then make your way back into the walk-in. With a bowl resting on your hip, you pick out a few pears you’ll need, then hear the creak of the metal door open and you assume it’s Syd coming in to take a breather from the frenetic kitchen.

“Yo, I’m gonna start poaching the pears. You’re out of red wine but I can run to the corner store and try to flirt with the clerk to knock a few bucks off a bottle-”

The slick bowl almost slips from your grip when your eyes catch his. A chill slithers from your neck, down your spine and wraps around your knees, rendering them uselessly immobile as Carmy just stares you down through tired lids. The room grows uncomfortably smaller with the two of you locked inside and you're afraid that he can hear the irregular tempo in your quickening pulse. You wonder if the slight shock in his brows is due to not knowing you were in there. It only flashes for a second, then his features conceal behind a curtain of indifference, making your stand straighter.

“H-hey.” He says with a feign coolness as he wraps his own apron around his waist and moves deeper into the room, as if it’s the most natural thing to find you between the inventory of his restaurant.

You turn back to the shelf so he doesn’t notice the multiple quivery inhales it takes for your voice to sound somewhat even. “Syd asked me for help, that’s why I’m here I-”

“No- yeah, I get it- I wasn’t-” He cuts himself off and takes a breath that has your wavering stare slowly inching towards him. “Thank you…”

You finally turn to him, only holding his stare for a second, then give him a tight smile and wrap both arms securely around the bowl that wants to slip from your clammy palms. His lips part and you wait for anything else to leave his mouth, maybe a ‘How’ve you been?’ or a ‘Can we talk?’. But nothing does and you try to not let it sting as much as it normally does when you get your hopes up. You take a reluctant step towards the door, then another and another, only stopping when your name vibrates in the concealed room.

“Yeah…?” You turn with a full chest.

He holds an unopened bottle of wine in your direction, face blank. “Bottom left shelf.” He says, shrugging.

“Oh. Right.” You take it without meeting his stare so he doesn’t see the grief slapped across it and quickly push yourself out the space.

You spend the better part of half an hour peeling the thin skin off the pears and letting the simmering wine and spices fill the kitchen with a strong sweetness. Carmy’s presence looms around the room as he checks in with every station on their progress, but doesn’t stop with you. All you get is a soft ‘Behind’ and the tingling sensation of his touch on your lower back as he passes by. You don’t know if it’s on purpose or not, although it doesn't really matter to the breath that stops in your throat when he does it. ‘Just finish this and you can leave.’ you repeat to yourself. Though you know you won’t, at least not until they’re up to schedule, even if every second sharing the same space withers at your soul.

You do your best to focus on your task, only talking to Tina when she gently squeezes your forearm to ask if you're okay, because your brows are glued into that permanent scowl that only displays your irritation outward.

“Yeah I, um- just got a lot on my plate.” You tell her and try to not let it trigger the tears you’ve hoarded in the back of your throat.

“No te hará sentir mejor-” She whispers to your side.

“-Probably not-”

“-pero él está igual de miserable que tú. Really baby, you should have a talk with him, y’know, straighten things out.”

“T, ni siquiera me ve a la cara…” You whisper back. “How am I supposed to straighten anything out if he won’t even look at me?”

“Ay, baby I know. But I’ve known that stubborn boy all his life and let me tell you, since he came back from Madison Square Park -or wherever the fuck-, he was all different and… bitchy. And it wasn’t ‘till you came along that he finally felt like the Carmy we all knew before… pues ya tu sabes.” She says in reference to his brother.

“You two are good for each other, but you’re both stubborn as hell… talk it out, okay? Don’t lose somethin’ good ‘cause you're stubborn.” Tina rubs your shoulder reassuringly then with a final smile. she turns yelling ‘Corner!’ and disappears behind the tall stands.

You swallow down the aching knot and distract yourself with the slippery fruit in your hands.

“Can I..?” You see his hands before hearing his voice, as he lightly places a white cutting board a few feet away from you. You eye the curves of discoloring letters above his knuckles, then force your stare back to your own working hands and shrug.

“Sure… your kitchen.”

He only nods, from your side view you see how his eyes linger on you for a few moments then fall back down. The air between you feels thick despite the music playing from the hoarse stereo and a light layer of conversation from the staff. There’s a heavy pressure over your chest that only seems to expand with every silent minute passing between you.

Then Carmy clears his throat. “How’s-uhm- your set.. for the auction?”

Confusion and irritation brew in synchronicity with your wine and you try to hide the annoyance his question brings you. He acts as if he’s just seen you the day before, as if things had ended with a friendly handshake and a mutual agreement, not with him breaking up with you and completely vanishing from your life.

“It’s fine.” You turn to the burners and stir the pot slowly to keep it from burning and also to avoid his heavy gaze.

You taste it to make sure the flavors are correct then turn back to finally finish peeling the last of your pears. Carmy stares at you like he wants to say something else, but just contemplates the seriousness of your features and the flow of your hands as you move the peeler in a frenzy. Each stroke grows closer to your skin and he just feels the need to warn you.

“Careful you’re gonna-”

“Mierda!” You hiss, dropping the handle immediately and cradling your palm under the injured one. “Hijo de puta!”

He’s by your side in a second, with his clean towel hovering under your hands and taking the fruit that you crushed involuntarily when the pain closed your fist.

“It’s fine- I’m fine.”

“No you’re not, you’re bleeding-”

“I said I’m fine!” You pry your hand hard enough to hear a slight pop from your wrist.

Carmy’s hands fall to his sides and you divert your gaze to the floor walking to the nearest sink to clean your wound. You hiss again when the warm water hits your palm and a gash at the bottom of it is finally visible. Fucking perfect. You scrub remnants of puree and blood off, until the water runs a light pink and you're relieved to see it won’t need stitches. A gauze and some tape will suffice, so you wrap it in some paper towels to avoid dripping and march to the small office where you find the kit. The quicker you move, the faster you’ll be out of the confined space that makes you feel like a vulnerable prey. But your fingers tremble from the light sting and the edge of the wrapper isn’t cooperating with your dull nails. Tiny droplets of blood pool in the center of your palm, the frustration grows too quickly and you slam the unopened gauze flat on the desk.

“Fuck!”

‘It’s fine, you’re fine.’ The voice in your head circles through the same phrase, pretending that the sudden proximity of him didn’t unearth something you have tried so hard to bury down for the last month. You thought you could be mature enough to ignore the crushing weight settling over you with every stare, but the wisps of frigid indifference that radiated off him wrapped a tightening noose around your neck and you weren’t sure how long you had until it finally killed you.

A soft click pulls your attention from the crimson in your hand. Carmy stands with raised palms, inching slowly towards your intense glare, then reaches out a hand as if trying to help a wounded animal. Which in a way, you are and the joke forming in your mind about the bear helping a fox would be rather funny if you weren’t so immensely upset with him.

With a ragged sigh, you turn in the small space and stretch out your hand to him, eyes locking on a painting on the wall to evade his stare. You ignore the furor of goosebumps that invade your skin the second his touch is on you. Carmen’s hand holds you in the cocoon of his fist, thumb rubbing delicate circles beside the battered spot while he uses the paper towel to soak up all the blood. You reprimand your wayward beats for their reaction to his innocent touch and you have to constantly pull your wandering gaze from reaching the dangerous borders of his tightened jaw. His deep exhales fan the baby hairs resting at the bottom of your neck, his attention fixed on the small imperfection. His movements are slow, asking each muscle for permission to move the next, because having you this close after so long is a luxury he does not want to rush through, not if he’s never getting it again.

Carmy understood your anger. He could feel it radiating off you in waves that bounced in the small space, but he also understood that he’s never had enough words to properly express the turmoil of everythingness swirling constantly inside his head. He wanted to let you know how hard it had been for him too. Confess the unhealthy amount of time he was spending at the restaurant- only going home to shower then leaving again- because he was afraid of the scent of your perfume and how it lingered on every breathable space in his home… apartment- not home- at least not since you had gone.

He focuses on swabbing the sanitizing wipe tenderly in hopes that his actions can transmit what he can’t say. The alcohol makes you hiss again and his eyes flicker to your frowned brows, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’.

He only lets go to tear open the gauze and some tape, then takes you in his grasp again to wrap your palm up safely. You expect him to let go once he’s done. To create as much needed space to fit the betrayal he portrayed the last time you saw him, this would only explain why he never called back. But he doesn’t. And he doesn’t look up at you either. Your stares meet on the flesh where his thumb still brushes over the blood-stained pit, your chest raises in slow puffs and the uninjured hand grips tightly over the edge hitting behind you. This is all too familiar again, right down to the brewing anxiety trickling heat into your overworked veins. You can't help but to foolishly crawl your pupils over the navy blue of his apron, past the strained tendons of his neck, the sharpness of his nose and to the beautiful blue you had missed so much.

Neither of you notice how the space has reduced to mere inches between you until his eyes flicker to yours and every single speck is bright and visible for your admiration. He swallows down hard, the Adam's apple bouncing in his throat portrays his nerves openly to you. The last reasonable, minute voice in his head tells him to pull away, but the way you’re staring up at him has his body tilting in your direction instead. Eyes wide and glossy dance around the freckles dusting his cheeks, causing his hand to float from your wrist to the dip of your waist and his forehead finally falls against yours.

You gasp in softly when his fingers dig into the center of your spine while his nose brushes along yours longingly. You can feel his sultry exhales ghost over the curve of your parted lips with doubt still present in his movements.

“Carmy…” The voice is above a whisper and you’re not sure you even have the strength to utter the sentence that’s formed in your head.

Your voice seems to trigger something in him. His jaw hardens, his fingers bunch up your shirt in a light fist and just as quickly, his grip on you loses strength and his hand falls to rest beside your fisted one. Then a grave sigh parts his chest and he takes a painful step back, unwilling to lift his eyes from the ground.

It takes a minute for you to react, then the butterflies in your stomach turn to wasps swarming in dangerous circles, unable to fly out due to the knot blocking your throat. He’s eerily silent, eyes glued to the floor to ignore your fiery glare.

“Sorry, I…”

You scoff and shake your head, blinking rapidly to pull back the tears threatening to spill with your anger.

“Screw you, Carmen.” You untie the apron as quickly as you can with your injured hand and throw it at his desk before walking out of the small room.

With strong footsteps, you take your bag from above the lockers and escape out the back. The door slams hard as you push yourself out, Carmen following behind but by the time he calls your name you’re already a couple steps ahead.

“Fox!” He yells and you spin in his direction with nothing but anger over your face.

“Listen, I’m sor-”

“No-fuck you- you don’t get to talk, alright?! It��s my turn.” He takes a step back before crashing into you, jaw locked tight and regardless of the deafening ring in your ears, you refuse to bite your tongue again.

“Look Carmy, I am truly sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier and I’m so sorry that I’m here instead of your brother- but that does not mean you get a fuck-it-all free card and get to pull shit like that!” Tears of anger trickle down your heated skin and tickle the curve of your trembling lips.

“I called you Carmy…” The words burn as they force themselves to spill out. “I called you, and I texted you and I waited cause I knew you were pissed - and you have every fuckin’ right to be- but it doesn’t give you the right to kick me out of your life one second, then act as if everything’s fine the next, cause it’s not!”

The sounds of the city have grown mute between your heavy breaths and the erratic beating in your skull. You don’t expect him to answer and he doesn’t seem to have anything to say. He simply stands before you, eyes glossy and brows knitted as you bare all that you kept since the last time you saw him.

“I know you’re scared. And I know you’re angry and whatever this is-was-” You say pointing between you. “I know it didn’t come at a right time. But I meant what I said, Bear, I do love you. So fucking much. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair of you to take it out on me cause you’re angry at him… I refuse to be collateral damage for whatever the fuck you got going on.”

The weight over your chest might have shrunk, but it didn’t make you feel any less better than before, especially not with the way he’s looking at you. You want nothing more than to run to his side and kiss away the few stray drops that nest in the corner of his red rimmed eyes. You want to hug him tight until the loose pieces of his brokenness stick back together into one whole man, but the last of logic inside you knows that it would only serve as a temporary band-aid. So instead you offer a speck of a smile, just a soft curve that doesn’t reach your teary eyes.

“I love you, Carmy. So I dunno, give me a call when you sort it out- I know it’s more of a ‘when’ than an ‘if’ situation-… I think I’m stupid enough to answer.”

Carmen watches from his frozen position as you rub the tears away with the back of your hand, then the gravel crunches under your boots and in a few seconds you disappear around the corner.

He has enough energy to slump over the crates by the wall and pull the crushed package of smokes from his back pocket. While the wisp of smoke swirls in the wind around him, he rubs his eyes until the image of your tear-soaked face blurs away behind the darkness. The gravel creeks again, heavy steps move from his left then settle with a groan beside him.

“I’m not in the mood, alright?” He says, eyes focused on the street at the end of the alley.

Richie doesn’t say anything, only takes out his own cigarette and joins his cousin in silence.

“Is there, um-” His voice is thick and wavering, barely holding on to controlled breaths. “Is there a name for… when you’re afraid of somethin’ good happening cause you think somethin’ bad’s gonna happen? ”

His thumb rubs anxiously over the same spot on his palm as he waits for Richie’s response.

“Fuck it, I dunno… life?” He takes a long drag, letting the exhale occupy the empty space in front of them. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah…” Then the silence falls over them again.

When his cigarette burns out, Carmy reaches for another, but before he can settle the lighter back down, Richie pulls out a small envelope from the pocket of his jacket and hands it to him. Carmy’s reluctant to take it, his eyes flicker between his cousin and the piece of paper, then he slowly reaches out.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from your asshole brother… R.I.P and whatnot.” Is all he says.

His hand trembles again, his breath short circuits and a new wave of dread nips at the back of his neck. He swallows hard and breathes in deep, bracing himself, before turning it over. ‘This day just keeps getting better…’

Chapter 12.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat and that’s it lmao

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hellomynameisbisexual · 3 months

Text

Bisexual Basics

— Karin Baker

THE MOST BASIC thing about bisexuality is that it unlinks what most cultures see as a fundamental connection: sex and gender. If you can understand that for some people sexual attraction is not tied to a specific gender, then you understand the most important thing about bisexuality.

At least in the United States, separating sexuality and gender is difficult. While public attention—negative and positive—has recently been focused on homosexuality, the idea that it is not the only alternative to heterosexuality is less often recognized. This is not surprising, given that here as in most western cultures, there is a tendency to organize concepts dualistically, to see only opposites.

Heterosexuality and homosexuality as related ideas are one example. Thus, even while homosexuality is not an acceptable alternative to heterosexuality for many people, it is clearly fixed in their minds as the other option. Few conceive that there could be a third option, or even a continuum of possibilities.

This or That

Bisexuals sometimes refer to society’s tendency to dichotomize as an “either/or” approach. You must be attracted to either women or men, be either heterosexual or homosexual—what bisexuals sometimes lump together and call “monosexual.” Similarly, in our society, no matter what your actual racial background, you are seen as either white, or a person of color.

In contrast, some of us see bisexuals as having an approach to sexuality that could be called “both/and.” We are heterosexual and homosexual, both at the same time—which actually adds up to something completely different.

The woman whose parents are respectively white and African American is not racially or culturally half one and half the other. She is a blending of the two, in which neither aspect can be separated out. Similarly, bisexuals are not “part” queer, or “part” straight—we are what we are.

The Continuum of Sexuality

Maybe the idea that sexual attraction actually falls on a continuum, rather than clumping around homosexuality and heterosexuality, seems obvious. As a bisexual person, it is certainly obvious to me. However, I have come to realize that some are confounded by the idea.

This inability to imagine that someone could truly be attracted to more than one gender is probably the origin of myths such as “bisexuals don’t really exist,” and “bisexuals just haven’t made up their minds yet.” For some, sex means desire for women or men, but never both.

In a recent example, a bisexual friend of mine overheard a conversation between a lesbian and a gay man in which both commented on how confused bisexuals were. One of them said, “sooner or later bisexuals have to make up their minds!”

I wish I’d been there to ask them, why? Can you explain the basis for your reasoning? Why can’t we have already made up our minds—to be bisexual?

It seems to be hard to escape the assumption that there are only two choices, and everyone must ultimately settle for one of them. I have never heard a logical argument, or any biological law that explains why this choice is so unavoidable.

I have an easier time with this when I think about how hard it is for me to grasp attraction to one gender only, whether gay/lesbian or straight attraction. Because sexuality and gender aren’t linked for me, I’m surprised when I hear about people who are only attracted to women, or only attracted to men.

As a feminist I can understand why some women would choose not to be with men. I can also see that a person might want something in a sexual relationship that is more typically found with one gender or the other. But how could one gender always fall outside the boundaries of sexual possibility?

I believe that it happens, because people tell me that it’s true for them. It’s just extremely hard to imagine.

In fact, we bisexuals have a tendency (which I resist in myself) to think that all people are potentially bisexual. If they haven’t acted on it yet, monosexuals must either be repressed, or they just haven’t found the “right man”/“right woman” yet.

I suppose this is the bisexual equivalent of the monosexual perception that bisexuals are just going through a phase and haven’t made up our minds yet.

Gender in Bisexual Attraction

Although gender is not a limiting factor for bisexuals, it does sometimes play a role in bisexual attraction.

Some bisexuals that I know are attracted to women and men for gender-specific reasons. For instance, they like women because they see them as: easy to talk to, or nurturing, or soft and curvy; and they like men because they find them: straightforward, or more assertive, or hard and muscular (or some such gendered reasons).

So in this case, gender is part of the formula, but not a limiting factor.

Other bisexuals I have spoken with are also attracted to women and men differently, but they turn the previous specifications upside down. These bis say they find they like butch women and effeminate men. In a way this comes down to appreciating people to the extent that they escape genderedness.

But there are also many bis, such as myself, for whom gender has no place in the list of things that attract them to a person. For instance, I like people who are good listeners, who understand me and have interests similar to mine, and I am attracted to people with a little padding here and there, who have fair skin and dark hair (although I’m pretty flexible when it comes to looks).

“Male” or “female” are not anywhere to be found in the list of qualities I find attractive.

Monosexual Misconceptions

Bisexuals in the United States often experience hostility from lesbians and gay men, as in the incident described above. Lesbians and gay men, like heterosexuals, are often uncomfortable with breaking out of a dualistic way of looking at things.

Bisexuals blur boundaries thought to be fixed in stone, and this is disturbing.

Actually, bisexuals may appear to pose a more direct threat for lesbians and gay men than this general social disturbance. Lesbians and gay men who a in our society have almost always gone through a long process of leaving their family and heterosexual friends, as they leave the closet.

The community that rejected them is replaced by the one they join when they come out; the lesbian and gay community becomes their new family and friends, the place where they feel security and belonging.

Bisexuals who pop up in their new community blur its boundaries, making it feel less safe, less apart from the rejecting heterosexual community. Especially for those who believe that a bisexual has a fifty-fifty chance of finally choosing heterosexuality, a bisexual may well appear as the enemy within their midst.

Bisexuals often face misconceptions shared by lesbians, gay men, and heterosexual people. One of these is mentioned above: that bisexuals are confused people who havent made up their minds yet.

Undoubtedly some bisexuals are in a transitional phase between heterosexuality and homosexuality, but this is not necessarily so. And even when it is true, why should transition be seen as problematic?

Another common myth is that bisexuals are not committed to the struggle against queer oppression. Like many stereotypes, this may have some basis in reality. There are bisexuals who stay in the closet, who gravitate toward opposite gender relationships, marriage, and whatever else it takes to fit in.

Of course, many gay men and lesbians also never make it out of the closet. In fact, the lesbian and gay movement has always included bisexuals. Some have been openly bi, while others haven’t felt it worth the struggle to be open in the face of disapproval from the community that is so important to them.

Today, some bisexuals, like some gay men and lesbians, are not interested in getting involved in political struggle, but many others are very active within the queer community.

Another misconception is the idea that to be bisexual you must be sleeping with both women and men, and along with this, probably cheating on your partner. This is like saying that you cannot call yourself a lesbian (or gay, or straight) if you are single and celibate.

I believe that you’re bisexual (homosexual, heterosexual) if that’s what you call yourself. Your orientation stays the same, you still feel attraction, whatever your current actions.

Now it’s true, there are bisexuals who feel more fulfilled if they have relationships with a woman and a man. Some of these may have an agreement with their partner(s), and some not, but bisexuals are not the only sexual orientation where unorthodox relationships can be found, or where some cheat on their partners.

Bisexual Oppression?

A lesbian once told me that bisexuals experience oppression only to the extent that we “are homosexual.” She used this as an argument for leaving the name “bisexual” off titles of marches, community centers, newspapers, etc.

Who is included in group names has been a controversy for years (going back at least to the time when including the word “lesbian” was controversial because “gay” could supposedly count for both).

I don’t agree that bisexuals face only homosexual oppression. It’s true that when we are in same-sex relationships, one of the things we experience is heterosexism (and also, in our opposite sex relationships we do not as directly face the oppression gay men and lesbians face, although if we are openly bisexual we never completely escape heterosexism).

However, bisexuals confront forms of oppression that lesbians and gay men do not. Bisexual oppression includes compulsory monosexuality and the invisibility that is a result of monosexism. We are made invisible when people can’t conceive of sexual attraction that isn’t tied to one gender or the other, thereby denying our existence.

Even face to face, there is nothing about us that says we’re bisexual—if we’re with the same gender it’s assumed we’re lesbian/gay, and we must be straight if our partner is of the opposite gender.

Unless we happen to be holding hands and kissing a woman and a man simultaneously, an either/or way of seeing things means most people will automatically categorize us as either homosexual or heterosexual. This is monosexism at work.

In recent years some things have changed for bisexuals in the United States. We have started to find each other and form organizations and small communities. Conferences happen regularly in different parts of the country, and a national network exists.

Books about bisexuals multiply, as we tell our stories and develop theories about how we fit in. Much to the discomfort of some lesbians and gay men, we have been increasing the pressure to have our presence within the queer community acknowledged.

It seems inevitable that we will have an impact on how the people of this country view sexuality. Will this go further and affect the fundamental tendency toward dualistic categorizing, the either/or mindset?

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ghouljams · 10 months

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I love all of the AUs you have going or are beiginning to introduce, but I think your fae au has wormed its way beneath my skin too deeply to remove. I love how you combine horror and romance. Truly appeals to my monster fucker heart.

I have so many questions about fae!König's Liebling! Have they always been able to see too much or did something cause it? How did it come about that they took over the shop that the fae so clearly love? (and why did the actual owner never return? could they see things too?)

Also this line make's me want to sink my teeth into König right back:

"When were you born? He hoped it was a warm month. He wanted to sink his teeth into you, taste you through the flowers that conceal your scent from him."

The idea that the month someone is born has an impact on their being is fantastic!

I love this ask, I want to sink my teeth into this ask and shake like a dog. But instead I'm kicking my feet and giggling about it like a damn schoolgirl.

I love dropping pieces of small magic into the fae au, I don't think I've done more with the birth months thing, but it feels very... definitive to Liebling's being in that moment. König thinks in fae terms and in his mind her Fiesty personality reads like a warm weather fae. So he makes an assumption.

For the rest of your questions I'm going to write a little Liebling pre-König fic. Because I do love her and don't wanna just infodump.

You've been working at the shop for almost a year now. It's good work, easy work, within walking distance of your flat. Most importantly it pays well. Really well. Like you're not really sure the owner is even taking a cut of the profits well.

You like it! Except that it always feels like half the people in the shop are just vibing and admiring the flowers. You're not sure what's up with that, but the owner doesn't seem to mind so you don't ask questions. You're paid well enough you're happy to just let it be.

Except today. Today questions are about all you have.

"I didn't even know you were engaged," you frown watching Tock(the owner) pull boxes off the shelves in the back. He's digging through them frantically and hardly bothering to clean up as he goes.

"I wasn’t," he says, pulling a string of shells out of the box. He taps each one and listens for a moment before nodding and throwing it in his suitcase.

"But you're going on your honeymoon..." You say slowly hoping that he understands how those two ideas can't really coexist.

"I am," he sigh, dreamy eyed as he pulls what you think is a vibrator free of the box. You avert your eyes, and hope it wasn't used in the store.

"Seems like a bit of a leap in relationship status, that's all I'm saying."

"You humans are so finicky about that stuff," Tock waves your comment off, vibrator still in hand, you've noticed he's saying humans a lot today. He didn't do that before. "Too many emotions all at once, that's why you're never going to find anyone."

Ouch.

"Would you stop waving that thing around?" You drag your hand down your face. Tock stares at the vibeator and shoves it into his bag, zipping the whole thing closed immediately after. Apparently finished packing.

"Alright, I'm all done here. I've got your name on the store records and you've got keys. I shouldn't be gone too long, but you know the wild. Am I forgetting anything?

"Your brain?" You try, starting to worry your boss might have actually gone insane, "what are you even talking about? I'm not on the store records."

"Yes you are." Tock tips his head to the side, "I put you on them, I certainly can't manage this place on my honeymoon. Don't really care to manage it again either."

"I say again what are you talking about?"

Tock snaps his fingers, apparently remembering whatever he'd been asking you about. "Severence, duh." He takes a step towards you, you take a step back, "I really owe you a bigger debt than this but I don't think you'll ever collect so..."

He grabs your head and leans down so quick you barely have time to squeeze your eyes shut before he kisses one then the other. Something cold drips into them, or around them, you've never felt anything like this it's hard to describe the feeling of your eyeballs being dunked in ice water and pulled out just as quickly.

You blink them open as Tock pulls away, trying to make the post squeeze vision fuzziness go away. It feels like some sort of curtain has been dropped over, or no. More like a veil has been lifted, one you never would have known about if you hadn't seen it for yourself. Tock stands in front of you, haloed by fluff and two very prominent feathery antennae.

"Boon granted!" He says letting you try not to lose your shit. "Alright shop rules, very important to abide by them so everyone else does too, don't give out your name, no please and thank yous, be polite, Yada Yada, I went through all of this in training.

"Wait, what did you-"

"Be a good girl while I'm gone, I'll miss you! Maybe!" Tock tugs the door to the shop open and you're hit with a gust of wind, the scenery behind the door looks painterly and gorgeous, it's definitely not the shop. You don't even manage your own goodbye before he's out the door and closing it behind him.

When you panic rush to open the door it'd just the shop again. Your regulars mill about, plucking at flowers and enjoying the atmosphere. All of them turn to stare at you. All of them look monstrous. Far flung from you boss's fluff and softness. You slam the door shut on your ensuing panic attack.

You absolutely cannot do this.

#oc: Liebling #oc: Tock #and then she does run the shop because she needs the job #and the panic of lost income outweighs the monster panic #but yeah liebling is fae touched #she isnt happy about it but like König said its just her eyes #nothing special about her otherwise aside from her uncanny resilience in the face of the absurd #no one is less happy about owning a business than Liebling is

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love-toxin · 1 year

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I loved your fruity four x plus size!angelface, I rarely ever can find plus size reader works so I always get a little emotional when I do 😭😭 Do you think you would ever write bully!eddie or steve x plus size reader? I love your writing 🥺💛

TY!!!! I LOVE UR BRAIN <333

(cws: bully!eddie, gn!plussize!angelface, bullying, size insecurity/self-esteem issues, fluff and a little hint of spice.)

Eddie Munson is not a nice guy.

He's cruel, rude, and crude. He's filled with mockery and not-so-playful jabs, intimidation, provocation, fury, and he's so hard to get along with or even stand that you truly have no idea how he gets or keeps any of his friends. There's quite a few targets he sets his eyes on, mostly the jocks and preps and know-it-alls that throw his freak-ness in his face, but you're the one he sets his sights on the most. You don't have those big friend groups to disappear inside of, though, those alike people to back you up when you get dogpiled. Actually, you often feel like everybody's punching bag, because while nobody goes out of their way to terrorize you as much as Eddie, they don't regard you with kindness or respect--only pity and disgust, primarily for your looks. You try to be nice enough and quiet enough to not give them any other reason aside from that.

But even so, and even though Eddie's your biggest bully of all of them, there's one thing they giggle and patronize you about that Eddie never has, and that's your size.

Sure, he'll call you dumb, and he'll jeer at you for being so meek, and for never talking back. But he's never once degraded you on your weight aside from those similar comments; "Look at those big doe eyes, you're so pathetic" or "Gonna cry? Show me how miserable you look with tears running down your face" or even "You look like such a bimbo with that outfit, you think you're gonna get out of this by giving me a peek?"

And as much of an asshole as he is, it....those comments, they stir something up inside you. You've never really felt wanted, you've never felt desired or even seen yourself as a possibility for someone to be attracted to. You feel more like a fixture in every room you occupy, like an extra in a movie that only briefly passes by the screen. You're not used to being seen as a romantic object, a sexual object, and by the way Eddie teases you and gropes you you feel like that's what you are. You know there's no force on earth that would ever cause him to actually like you in that way, and he might be the only one who even shows that desire whether it's all fake or not, but even so it's really the only reason you don't make a point of avoiding him completely or getting someone involved to make him stop. It's fucking pathetic, letting your bully do whatever he wants to you just cause he's showing you the smallest hint of affection, but you just can't bring yourself to make it all go away. It isn't until you spend the holidays away from each other and come back for the second semester that you realize you're in love, and that reality is even worse and harder to contend with as you hear Eddie approaching you as you stand at your open locker. It's the first day back from winter break, and you know he's missed pushing around his favourite punching bag--which explains the rather violent slam of his fist against the locker next to your head, eliciting a shriek and a startled jump where you stand at the noise ringing in your ears.

"Missed me, crybaby?" You turn on a dime and catch his smirk, teeth glittering under the warm fluorescents and his arm still extended up to cage you between his body and your locker. It would be a wonder he didn't just shove you into it, if yours wasn't one of those half-lockers perched on the top half. Tongue bitten almost in two as you try to ignore the waft of his cologne--it must be new, it smells earthy and divine--you shake your head, and Eddie just chuckles in that low, deep, sultry tone.

"I think you did. I think you're lying to me." He murmurs, backing you up even further as he leans in, his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum as he shuffles forward so your whole world is blocked out by Eddie. "I missed you."

Those words did not come out the way he intended, you're sure of it--but he's still grinning, and he licks his lips, and the thing you've been sitting on for weeks wondering if you were an idiot for getting it in the first place just...comes tumbling out.

"I-I got you a gift," You babble, quietly, hoping nobody else milling about the hallway hears. Honestly you're half-hoping Eddie himself mishears it, so you don't have to deal with the aftermath of the mistake you're sure you've made. But he does, because his smile doesn't disappear, and he raises an eyebrow with curiosity clearly etched into his brown eyes. So, using the space you do have between you, you turn and fumble with the books sitting in your locker until you manage to pry out the thin, square-shaped box you'd wrapped and turn back to hold it out to him.

Eddie says nothing at first, just looks between you and the present as if it's some kind of joke. Maybe he's gonna slap it out of your hands and laugh when it goes flying down the hallway. Before much longer though, he stands back, and somewhat gingerly takes the gift from your hands and tears through the wrapping with a rough, blunt-nailed finger. You backpedal a bit with an "I'm sorry if you hate it" before he manages to pull the top off, but when he does, and his eyes widen, he looks back at you with a furrowed brow and an accusatory question.

"Why the fuck did you buy this?"

Oh, god. Damage control time--if you don't pull off this explanation, you can feel that you're gonna be in for a new brand of misery. Your words start rocketing out on top of each other at high velocity, until you're just spilling your guts out to him with a fearful tremor in your voice.

"I-I just saw it and I thought--I thought of you, of your music, and I thought you'd like it, cause you like Metallica, you know? And-"

"No, why did you buy this for me?" You're not too sure how to answer that, clamming up for a moment or two as his eyes dart back down to the tape. It's Metallica's newest album, the same one you've heard Eddie talking nonstop to his friends about at their table during lunch--you had to get it from a Sam Goody out of town, which is even more pathetic that you drove all the way there to get it, but....you couldn't find it in Hawkins, and it's the one thing you knew he wanted so badly. "This shit is expensive." He mutters, fingers grazing the plastic cover, brown eyes mesmerized by the track list on the sticker.

"Because, I....I don't know," You lie through your teeth, that familiar feeling of oncoming tears creeping up alongside the lump in your throat. You don't want to cry, don't want to make a scene in public and draw attention, but you feel like you might. "Please don't break it. I'm sorry."

"Shut up."

He scoffs, and you flinch at him slamming the top of the gift box back on so it's sealed again, like it was never open in the first place. Now you know he's gonna throw it--but you're proven wrong, as he crumples up the ball of wrapping paper and tosses it into your open locker behind you, before opening his jacket and sliding the present inside to pat it into place. So it doesn't fall out, secured by the wide inner pocket.

".....Take this." Huffing again, he reaches up to his neck and tugs off his necklace with a snap, the clasp coming apart but clicking back into place when his hands slide around your neck, and you realize he's affixing his most treasured pick necklace around your throat. When he's made sure it's secured in that incomprehensibly tender gesture, one so sweet that you expected to only see it in movies and not real life, Eddie's fingertips ghost over your skin and he pulls the pick down so it's laid out front and centre against your collarbone.

"I-Isn't this important, Eddie? I don't wanna lose it, or-"

"Then don't fucking lose it. Keep it around your neck all the time." He snarls, his hand quickly shooting up to grab your chin, and he forces you to look at him with those sensitive, pretty eyes before his cheek brushes past yours.

"Don't even take it off when you rub one out," He whispers, finally grinning while his tongue darts forth to lick at the shell of your ear, which sends shivers pulsing through your shaking body. "Keep it on when you're moaning my name. Bite down on it to keep quiet."

"Eddie-"

"Just wear it." He spits, watching with a tidy smirk as you shrink down at the strength of his command. "I wanna see teeth marks in that thing by tomorrow. I'll enjoy your tape the same way." He flicks your nose, and then he's meandering off, taking with him that heady, spice-filled scent that had overwhelmed your senses completely. The image of Eddie jerking himself off as he listened to the album you bought him will definitely be the background of your daydreams all day today, but even moreso will be the thought of what your task will be when you finally get home.

#eddie munson #eddie's angelface #eddie munson x reader #bully!eddie munson #spicy writing #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #leahthesith #anons #plus size!angelface

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majorbaby · 4 months

Text

some early and candid thoughts on MASH: The Comedy that Changed Television

I thought Gary Burghoff had the most illuminating commentary to offer. he was specific, technical and detailed when recounting how the show was constructed, a style of media commentary that caters to my preferences. he has one comment that really stuck with me as a strong descriptor of the Radar character (paraphrase from memory): they needed a character who was experiencing the concept of war for the first time, for whom you could see the

after Burghoff, I thought Jamie Farr had some interesting things to say re: Margaret - 'she contains multitudes' being one of them, and a recurring theme when everyone was speaking about the character

i have to talk about mike farrell's comment on anti-war vs. anti-military: i've talked about how I feel that the post-reynolds/gelbart years have heavily watered-down messaging re: war before, and i've pointed to several episodes where i feel this is obvious, but mike farrell saying (quite strongly) that he felt the show was anti-war but never anti-military is pretty damning evidence.

i mean, i think this is good characterization for BJ, to take a more, let's call it 'broadly', anti-war stance, rather than be opposed specifically to military, particularly to the US military. it fits with his aspirations to live a quiet, middle-class life, with his insistence that he's always done 'the right thing' and imo, a good motivation for him to butt heads with the more radical Hawkeye, who opposes authority figures in general (per Alan Alda himself in this same special) - which actually goes beyond the military...

so i love it for BJ but i hate it for a show that never framed him as being wrong about that idea specifically. i can't say for sure whether BJ always held Farrell's beliefs of course, or vice versa, but if BJ ever did oppose the military as a system, Farrell doesn't know it. this knowledge makes episodes like Preventative Medicine and Back Pay land even worse with me.

'some of us were IN the military' he added, as a justification for his point that the show could not have been anti-establishment which i would speak on even more candidly if i was going to make this unrebloggable lol. but truly it's not that serious except in terms of how i think about the themes of this show - he seems like a perfectly lovely person who really loved making MASH and i think his fans will enjoy watching him speak about that.

Mclean Stevenson makes a point about how what Radar anticipates about a character tells us something about that character beyond what we would receive if we just heard the character say it themselves (which they usually do, at the same time as Radar) - I need to think about this some more when re-watching those scenes...

dlfkjaljfk I've never heard David Ogden Stiers' natural voice I thought someone was giving commentary over footage of him and then i realized he was actually giving the commentary - I feel like everyone knows this, but he was immensely talented, a master of voice and speech

1 hour and 10 minutes (including ads, or 'commercial breaks' as we used to call them back in my day) spent on seasons 1-3. tbf there's character-specific commentary in the first half that is for characters that were with us for the whole run, but, there's also a lot of time devoted to talking about how the show was initially constructed, the pilot being good (correct), and something that made me smirk - Larry Gelbart's commentary on how people were incensed and outraged at Henry's death and felt they had been misled, lied to, about their funny haha, wholesome weeknight comedy (set in the Korean War???) is almost indistinguishable from how people talk about plots they don't like in media nowadays

it was good! i had fun!

#re: mash #idk about uploading the whole thing because tbh the audio is pretty bad but i'll try to do a few gifs

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welcometomyoasis · 4 months

Text

end of year appreciation post

this year has been an emotional rollercoaster, but i wouldn't change a thing because i found svt and all of you 💕

sending a huge thank you from the bottom of my heart to those who interact with my posts. whether you follow my blog, like, reblog, send asks, or leave comments, just know i appreciate every single one of you.

as for my moots. thank you all for the laughs and interactions. i love you all so so much. so to express my appreciation, here's a list of which svt member i think you all would be because what fun is being carat if we can't do things like this.

@brownsugarbaybee Kari as seungcheol. Need I say more? In the way that seungcheol is the naturally protective alpha who babies his members, you do the same for me. You’re like the older sister I never had. You make me feel so safe, protected, and loved when I talk to you. I’m really socially awkward irl and am actually always afraid that I’ll say the wrong things, but with you, you never make me feel bad for sending too many asks, or spamming you through dms. You really create a safe environment for your followers and friends and I cannot thank you or express my gratitude enough for that. You were the first person i talked to ever (on anon) on tumblr and our friendship just grew from there. I love how we check in on each other frequently and randomly pop into each other’s asks just to say we missed each other. I’m always so happy when i see that you’ve sent me an ask/ dm. We’re like two magnets that can’t stay away from each other. I love that so much. Just like I love you. Here’s to a lot more love and interactions next year! (and yes, i’m dming you more mushy stuff later shhhh) 🤭

@wonijinjin Gigi as joshua. You're my actual other half? My soul sister? Like you notice there's no jeonghan on this list because you're my evil, lovable twin (okay you knew there was no jeonghan I texted you about this a month ago). FR THE SIMILARITIES BETWEEN US? From our bias lists, our need for perfectionism, our food cravings, us getting distracted all the time when we’re supposed to be doing work, to even the fact that we have the same frame for our glasses and hair colours. I could go on. Joshua suddenly appeared in my life and took over when i saw him in the anyone special video, kind of like the way you popped into my dms. We’ve literally talked everyday since then. All your messages, your words of encouragement, your comforting words, the random things we talk about (like the tote bag dilemma? Or all the possible collabs we could work on? OR ALL OUR TALKS ON SHUA AND HIS HANDS). I want you to know that I truly treasure each and every single one of our conversations. You’re one of my comfort people. Thank you for popping into my life because I cannot imagine my life without you rn. Yes, I’m not done but this is already very long so expect a lot of love coming your way in your dms. ILYSM SERIOUSLY. PLEASE LET’S MAKE THE SHU X GIGI MEETUP HAPPEN ONE DAY BUT NOT IN THE MIDDLE IT’S TOO DANGEROUS.

@haecien Cien as junhui. My timezone buddy. Like Junhui, you’re crazy and incredibly fun to be around. I’m not going to lie, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you spiral into loving new things and new groups. Sure, it’s entertaining, and I found it really endearing. I absolutely adore how you fall for other groups so quickly and how you’re so open about falling for them. You’re not afraid to go all out and show your affections towards them. You love with all your heart and that’s such a great quality to have. Your fics are super adorable and you were literally a trend setter because so many people followed your prompt generator idea. Junhui has the ability to be adored by everyone and you have that same effect on people.

@weird-bookworm Sky as soonyoung. Extremely easily excitable babies who always bully mingyu (see Zanna’s part). You get so happy and excited over all the little things. Your tags when you reblog posts gives me life because they’re always so funny and sweet. Not to mention, you have this bright energy around you that draws people to you. You’re so easy to love and interact with. Seriously, you’ve made such a big impact on everyone’s lives here on tumblr whether you know it or not. You might be the glue that is holding the mess that is tumblr together rn. Yea, you also give off major squishy vibes like Soonyoung, it makes me want to protect you more. With consent, i would love to mush your cheeks together and give you so many hugs. Love you Sky.

@woozvc-main Nora as soonyoung as well. In the short span of time that we've interacted, you really remind me of soonyoung and sky haha. You're easily excitable, you're funny, you're honest, you're great at writing your fics (like how soonyoung is great at dancing). You're so real when writing your little thoughts out on tumblr. You're so smart too? Like you're doing physics? And you randomly do math when you're bored? It's like when soonyoung randomly does little dances when he's bored or excited. Plus, you love pandas like soonyoung loves tigers! Okay, maybe not as extreme as that, but you get the point. We're both panda lovers. Why did we take so long to talk, I have no idea. But I love that we are talking now and here's to talking more in the coming year!!

@babyleostuff Natalia as Jihoon. You both write masterpieces. I think I’ve read through your masterlist a couple of times at this point. The way you manage to convey everyone’s personalities and emotions perfectly is amazing. More seriously though, you were one of the first people I approached on tumblr. Thank you for giving me advice before on how to start writing because it really helped a lot. Your advice was one of the reasons why I even started in the first place. You were also my first official moot on tumblr. I sincerely hope that life will treat you kindly, that you’re doing better, and that the next year will go smoothly for you.

@addicsvt Ari as dokyeom. Literal balls of sunshine?? Idk when I talk to you I can just imagine you smiling in the same adorable way that dokyeom does, with his eyes curled up into crescent moons. I hope you never stop writing because your fics are lovely. I really like the way you write! It’s so fluffy, and it makes me feel all warm and cozy. Your mood boards are also amazing!!! You’re seriously such a sweet angel. I can’t thank you enough for loving my writing, you have no idea how much that means to me. Love you and let’s talk more!

@fairyhaos Yena as dokyeom. Yena = a huge reason as to why I started writing in the first place. Yena = one of the first people I ever messaged on tumblr. Yena = ray of sunshine. Yena = one of the best fic authors on tumblr. You just remind me of Dokyeom so much maybe because you're both so in love with Joshua because you're both the happy angels of the group who find so much joy in simple things like Joshua, being around your friends, doing what you love, watching the pretty scenery around you, and you're so musically inclined? You also have this maturity about you that Dokyeom has? Like you know when to be serious and when to have fun which is such a great quality to have. Keep being you!! You'll do great in your upcoming exams!! Thank you for being such a kind person because the world needs more people like that. The only thing, you call Joshua a Shuamoroll. And now I call cinnamoroll that too...

@idubiluv Arya as minghao. Artist duo. I know we haven’t actually talked much but I do know that you love photography and art. I also don’t exactly know why, but I associate you with having this very calming, chill energy that is similar to minghao’s. Perhaps it’s the comfort that your fics give me when I read them? Maybe it’s because you’re so sweet, attentive, and supportive of everyone? Whatever it is, thank you for being my moot and I hope we can talk more in the future!

@slytherinshua Zanna as mingyu. HMMM WHERE DO I BEGIN FOR YOU ZANNA. You’re both always bullied affectionately. You’re both social butterflies. You’re literally everywhere on tumblr in this fandom and that fandom. Idk how you do it because you stan so many groups, write for so many groups, manage both caratsland and the kdrama label, etc. It’s definitely a talent. You’re also one of the sweetest people ever. Like you’re so happy to talk to anyone about anything and everything under the sun. It’s really cute, so please never stop. ONE THING THOUGH. Like mingyu, i feel like you’re always up late… i know timezones are a thing but PLEASE GO SLEEP EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE???? Seriously, i cannot count how many times i've seen "please sleep" on your posts and in the group chats... 🤣

@wheeboo Rania as seungkwan. My fellow criminal minds enthusiast, angst, and purple colour lover. I’ve never actually known anyone else who loves criminal minds so this is a really big deal for me. ANYWAY. I’m not just associating you with seungkwan because he’s your bias, though that is one reason. Seungkwan has this warm, inviting, witty, very accepting personality that is similar to yours. Idk if this makes sense but you write the way Seungkwan hosts. You’re fics are very cozy (even the angsty ones). You develop the stories so well. You put in splashes of humour or fluff, all while still keeping the readers in suspense until the moment is just right for everything to unravel. You’re also always so open when replying asks and responding to feedback on your posts. Plus you want to be a therapist one day? You’re seriously the best and the sweetest. You’ll do great. I’m extremely sure of it. Let's write more angst too!!

@askdacast Askdacast as vernon. LISTEN. YES I'M TAGGING YOU IN A SEVENTEEN POST, NO WE AREN’T MOOTS ON TUMBLR BUT WE ARE IRL SO HEAR ME OUT. Vernon is that one quirky member who does the weirdest things and embraces his quirkiness to the fullest extent. He just does what he wants, when he wants. At the same time, he's such a lovable guy who is adored by everyone around him. That's you. I've always admired your ability to just embrace being yourself even if you do face your own demons. You deserve everything that you've achieved and I'm so proud of you. I'll send you all the other sappy stuff privately... and let's go out to you know where. i mean we just discussed it yesterday? ALSO I HAVE TO PASS YOU YOUR PRESENT HHEEHEHE. BUT JUST KNOW THIS IS MY PUBLIC DECLARATION OF LOVE FOR YOU. I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR BEING MY IRL FRIEND FOR WHAT 6 YEARS NOW? ❤️

@mangocustard16 Mango as Dino. Honestly, I just got to know you last month but you’ve been such a joy to be around. You’re constantly putting out 11/10 content and reblogging stuff. Your incorrect quotes are hilarious. Your fics are so fluffy I want to melt in them. Your reblogs, especially the reblog chains you have with other people are so funny. You have a great sense of humour and you give this vibe that you’re just so happy to be here. I’m happy to have gotten to know you!

@eightlightstar Vittoria as Dino. We've only really talked once since we just became moots. I guess in that interaction I get Dino vibes from you? You're my fellow grad student who seems wise beyond her years just like Dino. You want to be a professor and get your PhD too! Dino is ambitious and that's how I would see you. You're going to do great! Let's talk more soon!

@glosskirt Gloss. If I were to liken you to a svt member, I would say you're a little like jun because you remind me of cien and you're kind of unhinged as well from what I've seen. But you're more of a bts stan. So, I'm doing this specially for you. My bts stan days were years ago, but I'm going to say that you remind me of Jhope. Happy, hopeful, sunshines of the group who are really funny. You care so much for others and you're so happy to interact with other people. Idk I saw your post about moving out of your lonely kpop phase and that made me feel something? Because I felt that way too after starting tumblr. I'm so glad we found each other through tumblr, and I hope we can interact more next year!

As for the rest of my moots, I'm sorry that we haven't interacted much. Sorry if you didn't want to be tagged. Here's just my little ramble for all of you because I'm still so thankful that we're moots and I would love to interact with you all more next year!

@amxlia-stars Amelia as Mingyu. You give me puppy like vibes and you just genuinely seem to be enjoying yourself here. Thank you for always liking my posts, it means a lot to me!

@mirxzii Roxie as Soonyoung. Idk the post of you horanghaeing in a museum really stuck with me haha. You're really nice and the aesthetic of your account is so sweet! Sorry that I haven't reached out much. Thank you for reblogging my work, I really appreciate it!

@icyminghao Noelle as Jihoon. Your posts are so so good? The way you write is so amazing. Actually I think your posts were some of the first I ever saw when I first started reading fics on tblr. It made me all giggly and happy. Major serotonin boost when I read them.

@aaniag Aania as Vernon. We haven't interacted much, but you remind me of Vernon because you can get very excitable and you're also really random? Like sometimes I see a huge wall of pictures on Sky's account from you. You're really nice and sociable too!

@staranghae Cherry as Seungkwan. I see you popping up everywhere to send those cute chain messages to everyone. You seem really sociable and fun! We just became moots so i'm sorry idk what else to say, but thanks for being here!

@seokminded Artai, @hrts4hanniehae Sadako, and @ryuwonieebae Ryuwon. I'm sorry to group you all together since I really don't know much about all of you at all. Hmm, I guess you all remind me of Vernon and Dino in some ways. I love the aesthetics of all your accounts. I mean that's the point of tumblr because we can express ourselves here. But your accounts and the things you all write just seem like you? Thanks for being my moots! Let's interact more in the future!

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punkeropercyjackson · 2 months

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Unpopular Hobie takes/opinions

Him and Gwen actually have pretty good romantic chemistry and if it were up to me they would've been canon instead of Ghostflower with Miles having moved on from Gwen romantically and Gwen thinking of him purely platonically from the get-go

But also,they work just as well as found siblings and NOT parent-child because even with the interpretation of adult Hobie,he has Dad Friend vibes,not Actual Dad ones.The one thing i would change about romantic Ghostpunk also is making Gwen a half white afrolatina since Hobie would be poc4poc for obvious reasons

The trope of him being a popular target of thirst on Earth 138 thanks to being in a band is honestly kind of stupid because yes he's objetively handsome as fuck(/platonic)but also he's also a black person living in 1970s England.Speaking from the experience of a biracial homecountry raised afrolatino who grew up with the white side of his family only and went to predominantly white/nonblack poc schools,he definitely gets a lot of comments on his apperance but not positive ones and the best he'll get from most is a backhanded compliment

He dosen't listen to indie music but he loves indie games since part of anti-capitalism is supporting small bussiness and creators

Him and Noir wouldn't be all that close-Obviously they'd like eachother because Noir's based but i can't see him ever being into him romantically,even disregarding that he looks exactly like Peter B which would make dating him So Fucking Weird

He hates being theythemed-No shade to people who headcanon him with any pronouns or do actual respectful nonbinary rep with him but i find the idea that Hobs being nonbinary means he'd use only they/them to be just reinventing the gender binary as a genderqueer person who largely perfers he/him even if he's got they/them in his pronouns set too

He's jamaican(Honestly not entierly sure if this is in unpopular but i looked for content and found only a small amount of posts)

Related to the above,i fucking HATE the weed jokes because oh yeah,of course the jamaican guy is a stoner hahaha NOT you guys aren't funny

His favorite color is pink and that's why he turns pink when he's happiest(Around Miles because babyboy is CRUSHING and around Mayday because again,Dad Friend so obviously he loves babies)

He's not really a sexual person including his humor and tbh i find very creepy how often he's assumed to be based off his flirtations because y'all,Gwen's a MINOR and SO IS MILES and the crop top is to be gnc,stop making it weird,this is a kids movie!Plus that's not even getting into black male stereotypes

I don't like the idea of him and Miles G or Pavitr together because no hate Chaipunk shippers because i truly do think it's a good ship but all the feminization of Pavitr has ruined it for me and it's not helped by me not seeing anything between them in the movie and just casually shipping them and i think it's better if our Miles gets a Hobie and Miles G gets a Ganke seeing as our Miles was robbed of his thanks to the Mcu so it's equal.Also Prowlerpunk shippers are always so fucking goofy,STOP drawing Hobie without his beautiful black features other than his melanin

Him and Jessica have a mother-son relathionship that parallels Miles and Peter B's,including that Hobie has an actual mom but diffinerating in that he actually views her as a parental figure(while Miles sees Peter B as his older brother)-Purely headcanon based but that little interaction between them at the end screamed that they're close so she knows his attitude

Margo is one of his best friend's because obviously she is,i don't even need to explain why and Margobie/Siblings!Punk Byte both have way more of a basis than Noirpunk

His counterpart in Batman crossovers should be Stephanie Brown or Duke Thomas,not Jason Todd because they share some similarities but Stephanie and Duke are almost exactly like him(Including names regarding him and Stephanie and i've even nicknamed her Stephie so there's that)

And also,he's a Percy Jackson and Katara kinnie

Rio and Jefferson would actually fucking love him because guess what,it's stupid and transparently antiblack to automatically assume a black couple would see a black boy who's unbelivably sweet-looking but brand him as a thug who's out to abuse their child just because he's alt and isn't a fence sitter about oppression-In fact,they'd tease Miles about someone as dorky as them pulling someone as cool as Hobie and there should be gags about them loving Gwen as a person but being SO relieved he's not actually dating a white girl

@nogender-onlystars

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draftingteacups · 3 months

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I understand that Special Events are non-canon in The Eternal Blooming Flower. But say how would you let Glorious Masquerade play out in your What if?

I love the Glorious Masquerade event, but the way that the event would play out in my What-If goes like this:

The first thing that would happen in this universe is the fact that Soni would definitely look around the City of Flowers and go, "This feels very similar to old Kalosian architecture." Makes sense since the movie was based in Notre Dame, which takes place in France

Obviously, she does a little bit of research into the city before she goes there, mostly because she doesn't want to do a social faux pas in a place that really reminds her too much of Kalos. Either way, Soni looked at the city itself for half a second before she gets dressed in an ensemble that would definitely remind her of her more formal attire as the Grand Duchess of Kalos.

I like the idea of a mixture of dark blue and gold accents with black-purple being the main color of the outfit itself. I feel like Soni wouldn't get a mask (mostly because I can see her just taking it off and not putting it back one because she's not a huge fan of masks in general) and get something like a circlet instead (looks like Xerneas' horns with clear crystals on top of it).

Happiny gets taken along because Deuce can't bear to leave her alone for a few days, which means she gets her own little outfit! A small pink mask with little beads that look like Oval Stones and a small hat that allows her little ponytail to stick up. As much as I would love for Happiny to have a little scarf, it'll definitely drag behind her like a little cape.

I could have Sobble here as well as Morpeko, and they would be wearing something similar to what Azul and Ruggie wear respectively. Obviously, the first half of the day plays out similar to the event itself: invitation, gets shown around the city, and then meeting Rollo makes Soni just feel a little uncomfortable, especially when Rollo himself looked into the students themselves to the point of getting Azul's eye prescription because I'm sure that's looking into someone medical history and I'd be wondering why anyone would do that much and even lightly comments on Soni's lack of information in a roundabout way that set off alarm bells.

Rollo: "When making accommodations for all of you to enjoy yourselves to the fullest, I noticed that Miss Monet has made no additional requests beyond what was stated in the itinerary, despite being the sole magicless person of your group. Do you truly not have anything else to add that you may have forgotten to write down beforehand?"

And even when Soni says that she doesn't, Rollo says, "If anything comes to mind, I do not mind making time to discuss any details with you on anything you wish to say."

Soni finds it weird that he points out that she was magicless when most people outside of NRC didn't know that, but that itself could be chalked up to her shared student status with Grim as a two-in-one student. Also Grim might just say that Soni doesn't have magic from the get-go because "the Great Grim ain't a familiar!"

However, that last bit poked at her the most because it implied that Soni withheld information that she didn't want written down.

Which is exactly what she did, but for the reason of her privacy and safety because people looking into Soni would potentially use it against her. Not to mention, she listed any needed information (i.e. medical, emergency contact, etc.) and the like on the papers themselves, so it's not like she needed more than that for Rollo to see. To imply that she still had more to say when she didn't and that Rollo was subtly pushing for more information about Soni while disguising it as a gesture of goodwill makes Soni think of all the verbal maneuvering that she had to do as Grand Duchess with many businessmen doing the same.

When the dance in the city happens, I like to imagine that Soni is made to come along with the others, awkwardly following along to the steps with Grim just spinning around like he does in the rhythm game. Happiny is being danced with by Riddle and Deuce, bouncing around cheerfully in the process.

That's when Rollo appears with a specific look in his eye when he sees NRC using magic alongside the other magicians:

"When you first came here, magic was truly a baffling mysterious force as a magicless person, was it not?"

Soni looks at the guy, her tone neutral as it could be, "It was, but who am I to tell people on how to live their lives?"

"Does it not trouble you? With how dangerous it is?"

Soni shrugs, "I've dealt with worse."

Then comes the night where all the Crimson Flowers are basically everywhere. Students are falling over because their magic is being drained out of them.

Cue Rollo's big reveal, and suddenly Soni understands why he mentioned that. She very much dislikes the fact that everything looks like it is on fire.

When they all fall downwards, Soni releases Dior and Charlie, the former teleporting everyone within reaching distance to the ground and Charlie snatching as many people as possible.

If we want to do the non-Championship Team, Nimbus, being a large puffy cloud bird, basically released a whole lot of fluff from using Cotton Guard as a cushion. Honestly, the idea that everyone just falling from a huge height, only to flop onto a cloudy-like fluff without having to use any magic was very nice.

When the others have to deal with the Crimson Flowers and pull weeds, Happiny is very enthusiastic about it because Happiny picks wild flowers all the time, so this isn't very different from what she normally does.

Ruggie, yanking Crimson Flowers with dirt flying everywhere: "Put your backs into it!"

Epel veins popping out of his head: "I can pull these weeds faster than you can breathe!"

Happiny, literally pulls off an entire cluster of Crimson Flowers with her bare hands: "Hap Hap!" This is fun!

I imagine that Happiny's given chores in Heartslabyul, and one of them is weeding the garden. It certainly comes in handy now that there's a magic flower that's trying to take people's magic away.

Then comes the plan to storm the tower and ring the Bell of Salvation.

Obviously, everyone's got an entire plan, but Soni goes, "You're all forgetting that I've got no magic. Those flowers can't do anything to me. And from what I've observed, they don't effect Pokemon either."

And what they settled on was for Soni basically leading the charge with her Pokemon taking down as many of the Crimson Flowers as possible. Dior using Psychic to physically pull as many Crimson Flowers away as well as assisting any passerby in the process. Charlie obviously uses his Flamethrower to burn away the Crimson Flowers in larger areas and even provides aerial assistance with Epel when the Crimson Flowers try to capture them both.

And Happiny doing her best to weed as many of the flowers as possible. Obviously, she stays behind with Deuce when he gets hurt and basically starts ripping apart the flowers even more when they start trying to hurt him.

And while it would be more heroic for Soni and the others to try climb the tower like they did in the original game, they could just teleport up to the top with the help of Dior or fly up there with Nimbus and/or with Charlie.

And in the process of catching their breath from the few fights that they engaged with on the way to the top, they stumble into the private area where they find the diary of Rollo.

And of course, they still go up against Rollo in the process, covered in flames and all. Hearing Idia's speech is certainly one that Soni understands the core meaning, but it could've definitely been handled better.

Soni looks at Deuce when seeing Azul use Deuce's UM to punch Rollo: "You did what? When did you do that?"

Deuce: "Back in the main area..."

Soni: "I looked away for five minutes-"

Deuce gestures to his leg: "I wanted to hit him, and Azul offered!"

Soni: "And I would've done it for free. We are talking about this later when we aren't at risk of falling off a tower and being roasted alive."

Malleus dealing the final blow with his lightning magic left the thickest smell of ozone in the air with Soni's arm hairs standing up on end.

And skipping to the song that happens during the party, Soni has her time to dance with the others again, although she's not all that good with it. In the background, Happiny and the other Pokemon are equally enjoying their time together at the party.

Side Notes That I Couldn't Put In:

A comical Pokemon for Soni to bring along in this particular event is her Skiddo because one, it's a little goat and they would see such creatures around. Two, it can eat the Crimson Flowers as a free snack. I cannot confirm whether that the Crimson Flower is fit for Pokemon consumption.

Soni using Kalosian and basically finding little to no difference between French and Kalosian; funnily enough, I like to imagine that Soni manages to get better deals this way from people at stalls because she's getting souvenirs for the others (Ace would complain if he didn't get something; Soni bought him a mug that Milcery uses to sleep in).

And that's the general gist of the Glorious Masquerade event!

#ask #what if #glorious masquerade #pokemon x twisted wonderland #soni monet #rollo flamme #happiny #gardevoir #charizard #deuce spade

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atalossofwords · 5 days

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YOU TASTE THE SILVER - IvanTill WIP (Part 7)

Somehow, these two last POVs turned out bigger than I expected. I think I can keep up the one POV change per day here before I post the full chapter on AO3, but I don't promise anything.

Also, I have plans for how many chapters it'll be! Yay me.

ON AO3 - part one - part two - part three - part four - part five&six

Till was... nervous. For more than one reason.

Firstly, he was getting ready for Mizi's concert. He'd be nervous enough to go to any show, since crowded places made him antsy, but this was a meet and greet. He bought a new jacket exclusively for this, and was trying very hard not to be weird about using perfume and generally dressing up for the occasion.

Secondly, he had Navi's number. He hadn't said anything after that first exchange, too awkward to try and make small talk but he found himself... wanting to.

He refused to let Hyuna send the messages, since she was halfway ready to demand to see Navi's ID. It was awkward but then... Then Navi had said all those things, about how much he liked Till's music, how Till deserved more recognition than what he got...

It made Till's stomach swoop, his cheeks colored red.

It reminded Till of those days when he had only 100 followers, when Navi would send 100$ donations solely to max the character limit as he talked about how much he liked Till's lyrics, how his mixing made him feel, how he couldn't believe Till didn't have a record deal yet.

After that short text conversation, Hyuna had changed her "bored office worker" theory to a "disillusioned producer", and for once Till was inclined to agree.

Still meant he was far from understanding why Navi would send him so much money.

"Till, are you ready?" Hyuna calls out, startling Till out of his thoughts. He gives a last once-over to his outfit, deems it ready, and goes to greet her.

Hyuna is wearing a black tank-top, cargo pants, hiking boots and a leather jacket he's sure once belonged to Dewey when he still ran with a motorcycle gang. She rolls his eyes at his face.

"Ready to go? We need to be in the venue in half an hour if we want to get in at a good time." He nods, checking that the clear bag he's bringing has all his necessary documents.

Tickets? Check. ID? Check. His first Mizi album and custom photocard binder? Check. A handwritten letter for Mizi? Check. Extra pens in case he or other fans need it? Check. A truly unholy number of phone charms he made himself the night before to exchange with fans? Check. He makes grabby hands to Hyuna, waiting until she puts all her stuff in the bag as well before shouldering it.

"You're such a mother hen." She says, grinning. "I heard we might not be allowed in with food, so I sent Isaac to get something from the convenience store we can eat on the way."

"Oh, good idea. He's meeting us there?" He asks, perking up. He really wasn't looking forward to surviving on granola bars for the day.

They end up meeting Isaac in the car, since he and Dewey are driving them and Hyuna wanted to re-touch her makeup. Isaac gets them both sandwiches, as well as a pack of chips to eat in the queue. He also gets two starbucks packaged drinks, black coffee for Hyuna, and caramel frappuccino for Till.

Luckily, the queue isn't too big; the meet-and-greet isn't open for a lot of people, so Till spends his time waiting by chatting with fellow fans, discussing the new album, and even meets one of his own fans, Mizi's Boots, who he remembers as an occasional chatter who mostly comes for his mixing streams.

She's very flustered that he remembers, but eventually they settle into some more normal conversations, Hyuna teasing them both about bringing so many phone charms to trade. He makes sure to put hers on his phone right away, since she takes care to pick one that matches his streaming set-up.

It also reminds him that... he has Navi's number.

He should send a message, right? Just to say he's at the venue. He did a few lives since getting the tickets, and only commented that he'd be going on the last one, so as to not give his fans any time to buy tickets to search him out instead of Mizi.

Navi had said nothing to indicate he was the one who sent the tickets, a simple "I hope hyung has fun!!" was all he sent.

He decides not to overthink it, and takes out his phone to take a selfie of him, with Hyuna in the background talking to a fan of hers. He hunts for Navi's contact.

You [ 4:44 ] On the line to see Mizi. Thanks again for the tickets. [IMG.7347]

He closes his phone, ignoring the flutter in his stomach to focus on the experience at hand. It's almost time to go in.

The queue moves forward,

"Chill, Till. You've watched these events like a thousand times on livestreams, it's going to be fine." Hyuna says, after they're already seated in the auditorium. He's glad his fan was seated far away from them, since he'd feel awful if she watched him losing his cool like this.

"Okay, but what if I trip and fall right in front of her? What then?" Till frets, combing one hand through his hair. Hyuna rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to tease him some more when the lights dim and a manager comes on-stage to announce Mizi.

Till immediately forgets his nerves, leaning forward to watch better. Mizi walks on-stage already waving, a radiant smile on her face. She's dressed more casually than she usually is for shows, with her glasses on. Her long pink hair is left free, bouncing as she moves to say hi to everyone on the first roll.

Till doesn't even see Hyuna settle down, focused on Mizi. She does a little QNA, pointing at people to answer. Most questions are pretty simple, like how's Mizi's doing, what's her favorite song from the newest album, favorite snack, and so on. She even calls on Hyuna, who asks if Mizi likes video games.

(Apparently, she's an Animal Crossing player. Till is so endeared, he loves her, oh god.)

After that fanfare, she sits on the stage, legs dangling closer to the first row, and sings My Clematis with her guitar. She thanks everyone, asks for five minutes to get some water, and the fansign begins.

Till has... a vague idea of the hour or so that happened between then and his turn. He knows Hyuna leans in to talk to him, mindless chatter about their streams and their next collab, about how Luka's workflow is increasing so she's thinking of paying for another chat mod.

In the blink of an eye, he's sliding on a chair in front of Mizi, and out of the hundred times he's imagined this meeting, he'd never have though of this.

She squints at him, tilting her head to the side, and says; "Oh, you're Till, right? The streamer?"

Till's face is so hot he thinks he's going to die.

#writing #wip #ivantill #alien stage #you taste the silver

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impecko · 1 year

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Leo Valdez Study

I've always been annoyed with how people see Leo. He has a lot of really interesting traits, but he also has a lot of issues.

The seventh wheel thing

From day one, Leo is worried that he is a third, or “seventh” wheel. This starts with Piper and Jason’s relationship and continues till the last book. It’s meant to be a relatable worry that he “overcomes” by the end of his story, but I feel it is a manifestation of a much deeper problem. He lets other people’s opinions dictate his actions and his thoughts. Everyone does this to an extent, but it is so deeply engrained into who Leo is that it’s an undertone to every decision he makes. Every other thought he has is about how he doesn’t have a girlfriend and how he feels so left out. This manifests in more ways than that though. When interacting with people he thinks are “lesser” than him, he is pretty cruel at times. The most obvious example is Frank. Their rivalry is framed as boys fighting over a girl, but it’s deeper than that. Leo thinks he’s better than Frank, or at least equal to him. He constantly makes mean comments about Frank’s worth and skills. This is put into better contrast when you look at how Leo interacts with the other boys. He’d never say half of the things he says to Frank to Percy or Jason, even if they were the ones dating Hazel.

2. Using the fact that he looks like hazels old lover to get closer to her.

Leo feels Hazel is in his league. Maybe because she is younger, or maybe because she has talked to him a few times. Either way, he has no issues preying on the fact that he looks like her past crush to become closer to Hazel. He instantly sees their relationship in a romantic light and doesn’t think twice about how things must feel for her. “Hazel was also Franks girlfriend, so Leo knew he should keep his distance. Still, her hair smelled good, and riding with her made his heart race almost against his will.”

“We could’ve made a sandcastle” “A lime castle” Their eyes locked for a second to long. Hazel looked away “You are so much like---” “Sammy” Leo guessed.”

It rubbed me the wrong way when he mentioned keeping his distance from Hazel because she was Frank’s girlfriend. Repeatedly I get the vibe that he doesn’t see women as people just because of how his lack of girlfriend clouds his world view. I really don’t think this was Riordan’s intention when he wrote Leo, but in real life, this would be a big red flag for me.

3. Who needs brothers anyway

Regarding Nico, Leo says “He hoped Hazel had forgiven him for not trusting her brother (hey, it had seemed like a reasonable suspicion to Leo)." It’s valid to be mistrusting of someone you don’t know; the problem is that even when Hazel said multiple times they could trust Nico, Leo still didn’t believe her. From his point of view in MoA, he fawns over Hazel and likes how she pays attention to him. But when it really comes down to it, he brushes aside her worries because he thinks rescuing Nico is too dangerous. Regardless of whether rescuing Nico was a good idea or not, it says a lot about how he truly feels about his friends and the girl he liked.

When the seven had the meeting concerning Nico, they were rightfully worried about the dangers of rescuing him. But it didn’t come from a place of mistrusting Nico. Percy, despite his self admittedly rough past with Nico, looked past it and immediately said he would rescue him. One of his reasons were he “couldn’t stand seeing Hazel in pain.” Meanwhile Leo, the boy who has said he likes Hazel over and over again, couldn’t do the same. He brushed her concerns aside so quickly to share an opinion that really wasn’t needed. Everyone knew the mission would be dangerous, they knew it was a trap. But Leo still said to Hazel’s face that it would be better to not rescue Nico. Is it because Nico is a son of Hades? Because it was a trap? We honestly don’t even get a super clear reason why Leo was so against rescuing Nico. But no matter what his reasons were, sparing Hazel’s emotions didn’t even cross his mind. He sees her as a pretty girl rather than a teammate and someone who can make good decisions.

4. Calypso and Leo’s relationship

Leo didn’t like Calypso; he’s just obsessed with not being alone.

Cruel, but there’s a lot of proof why this could be the case. I believe in the theory that their relationship was Calypso’s curse kicking in one last time. In the beginning she was angry at Leo and said many times that she did not want Leo there. Although they were able to become friends by the end, I believe that if Calypso was not cursed, she would not have fallen in love with Leo. She’s thousands of years old and has directly said that she does not want to fall in love again. Leo is 16, and is a product of a completely different cultural era. People have argued that mentally she is young, but at the end of the day, I believe there must be a least some things in common between two people to be in a relationship.

An interesting point to consider is that Riordan might be already hinting that their relationship wont work out. In Trials in Apollo, Calypso expresses that she is uncomfortable in the real world and understandably feels out of place as a mortal teenager. Leo is also worried and he somewhat micromanages her needs in an attempt to make her feel better. I can’t see this leading to anything good. I will do a 180 if it turns out the author has been playing the long game and plans to address Leo’s issues as a part of his character development. But I think that Calypso was supposed to be Leo’s happy ending. His insecurities won’t go away just because of a girlfriend, and I wish this was addressed as a personal issue for Leo to solve instead of making him rely on outside forces (girl) to solve.

“Keep moving—that was his motto. Don’t dwell on things. Don’t stay in one place for too long. It was the only way to stay ahead of the sadness.“

At the end of the day, Leo has a traumatic past. He is a very interesting character, and there is a lot of depth to him that people don’t think about. From what I’ve seen, people tend to turn him into a 2d character and ignore his issues and the wrong things he has done. They, like Leo, just want him to be “bad boy supreme” and not look any deeper. My issue with him is the fact that none of his development resulted in anything meaningful. He ended the series getting what he wanted, but not what he needed.

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picturejasper20 · 9 months

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Danny Phantom:A Glitch in Time-Vlad Masters Character analysis

A Glitch in Time puts Vlad Masters in a different role that he has been always presented in the main show: Instead of the main antagonist role, he acts more as anti-hero protagonist in the graphic novel story. He joins forces with Danny, Sam and Tucker and works together with them to look for the true source of ghost power and defeat Dan Phantom.

Having in mind that ¨A Glitch in Time¨ takes place around a month after the events of Phantom Planet, Masters finds himself having lost all the political power, social position and control he built for decades, either by using his powers to steal money or manipulating people around him. In addition to this, everyone knows his identity as ghost and what kind of person he really is now, meaning he is considered an enemy everyone and basically everyone hates him.

As he explains to Danny: ¨But upon arrival, I realized… i have nothing left to return to¨. In this context he wasn’t only refering to political power and money he had, he was refering to the fact that now he was truly alone, no one missed him nor wanted him around, since they knew what kind of person he was. Even the ones that considered him their best friend, Maddie and Jack, hated him. For once, Vlad couldn’t put the blame in anybody else for his situation but himself.

The issue is that at the start of the graphic novel Masters knows that he did something wrong to end up in this situation but he didn’t know what he did wrong. He still hadn’t fully reconsidered how his obsession with being in control and manipulative behaviour pushed everyone away and how going back in time wasn’t going to fix his actions. Clockwork pointed out how Vlad had many times to do the right think and instead choose to be obsessed with getting revenge and control others.

If there is one way i would define Vlad in this story is ¨lost¨: It feels like he isn’t sure of what he wants to do or what he wants to be, like there is a part of him that wants things to go back the used to be while other part of him doesn’t want to be in the ¨villain role¨ anymore. And, because he doesn’t want to deal with these thoughts, he comes up with this idea to look for this original source of ghost power as a way to distract himself for having to think of this emptiness he feels now, much like he always did when it came to dealing with his own loneliness, always looking for some new power to fill the void he had.

One thing i would argue, is that Masters was already changing in some ways when he went to Danny for help. He expressed to be more aware of how his actions were affecting others, such as acknowledging that he was ¨the last person who Danny wanted to see¨ and half admitting he shared the blame for the timeline being in danger since he accidentally freed Dan Phantom. As it was discussed earlier, Vlad was aware that he did something something wrong, just not what was it.

To expand in this point more, Vlad never does anything that could be considered ¨evil¨ while working with the heroes. He never makes jokes about Jack or makes comments about how he is going to make Danny turn into his pupil. Even when he complains a few times, he is shown to be quite collaborative with Danny and the rest. In part, this could be because he knows better than to argue against the person he went to ask for help, but it still interesting aspect to analyse.

Another thing worth of analysing are his reactions to seeing Danny being supported and appreciated by his friends and family. He is shown to be annoyed or confused when he sees this happening. While it is not explained, it could be a sign of jealousy from his part as Danny has people that care about him and help him, something he wished he had. It could also remind him of how he used to be friends with Jack and Maddie and how things went wrong between them. Some people have pointed out that these moments are one of the things that leads to Vlad to change his old ways later in the story, pushing him to be a better person.

Now there are two crucial things that leads to Vlad to finally rexamine his past actions and to start to redeem himself: 1) Learning about the truth origin of ghost powers 2) Learning about Dan and his origins, specially in the final fight

Lets talk about these scenes in separate points:

1) Learning about the truth origin of ghost powers

After the protagonists listen to Tucker PDA’s translation of the old runes they found, they learn that ghost and human world used to be connected or be ¨one¨ and were separated. That ghosts in some way are manifestations of human emotions, such as sadness, love and wrath. While the teens discuss the meaning behind the runes, Vlad goes through a bit of… a mental breakdown to put it lightly.

¨This is RIDICULOUS! Where´s the rest of it? () ¨Great question, Daniel! What Am I doing? I wasted years of my life piecing together clues for the ultimate power source and for what? Story time?¨

Unlike Danny, Vlad seems to struggle a lot at first with the idea of emotions being the true source of ghost energy. He considers the idea too ¨ridiculous¨ to be real and treats it as it was a child story. And this is not that surprising to see since he was expecting some type of artifact or powerful weapon instead of something more abstract.

It does makes sense for Vlad to not understand this idea at first because he is more logical driven and he isn’t that connected to his emotional part like Danny is. The runes talk about being ¨finding yourself¨, as in the sense that a ghost should examine what they really want to do or be or they could get lost in the process. This is an ability that Master lost over time as he got more and more consumed by his obsession over his past and ways to fill his own loneliness.

Danny talks about how he doesn’t want to ¨hunt ghosts¨ and instead wants to be a bridge between human and ghost worlds to help both human and ghosts. He gets his powers back like they used to be before he lost his emotional drive. After Vlad sees evidence of what the teens were discussing,he starts to have some real changes on his character. Vlad realizes that emotions and purposes are what drives ghosts and it isn’t a simple old silly story.

While that is a bit open up to interpretation what is going on in Vlad’s mind when he sees Danny getting back his powers, it is easy to see that itself inspires him to revalue what he really wants for himself and if what he has been doing so far has been making him happy or miserable. It someway it leads him to think about himself and what has he been doing until now with his own life, the same way that Danny did to find a new emotional purpose.

What’s more, Masters seems to have a new found respect for Danny after this event. He is seen saving and protecting him multiple times in their battle against Dan Phantom. He treats Danny as more of an equal than someone to turn into his pupil. This could be because, unlike him, Danny was able to figure out way quicker how the nature of ghosts powers worked and didn’t considered the legend a joke. Another aspect is that Vlad starts to see himself as a ¨bridge between the human and ghost world¨ and how instead of fighting Danny he should be helping him and supporting him. As both being ghost-human hybrids, they should work together to fix this issue.

I talked more about these moments in here. (Also, there is a comment that explains well the last point)

2) Learning about Dan and his origins, specially in the final fight

When Vlad first meets Dan he learns about how Dan is part of Danny’s ghost half and his ghost half, Plasmius and he is from another timeline. This moment itself doesn’t trigger an important change in Vlad’s character as more than he learns what Dan is.

It’s during the final fight that there is a moment Dan provokes Plasmius while he is beating him down. He tells Vlad that he made him and how this is what ¨he always wanted¨. Dan gives Vlad a terrible physical and emotional beatdown that makes Vlad finally realize how obsession with getting power was so self-destructive and how part of himself is what makes Dan act the way he does, having to ¨see himself in a mirror¨.

There is also a lot of Vlad always wishing for Daniel to join him and becoming his pupil and him seeing the results of what he ¨wanted¨ in here: The results being an very powerful version of Danny who destroys everything in his path and with no sense of morals. Making Vlad realize that he doesn’t want Danny to be like this or turn into someone like that.

In a brief moment Vlad begs for Dan to stop saying these things and says ¨that was a different me¨, trying to separate himself from the alternative version of himself who accidentally created Dan Phantom. Dan reminds Masters that he isn’t any different and his goals were still the same as his alternative version.This is what i personally consider the final ¨push¨ that Vlad’s character need to decide to not go back the way he used to be and to start making amends for his very selfish and controlling actions.

It is seeing what he could become-and Daniel had he joined him- if he had continued this path, something that is even too far and cruel even for someone like him.

Finding a new purpose

When Dan is about to destroy Danny, Danny asks him ¨Why you are so angry?¨, Dan tries to deny that he has emotions like anyone else and he has ¨transended that weakness¨. Suddenly Vlad transforms into Plamius and tells Dan that his wrong since half of him, the Plasmius part, is ¨full of fear¨.

Then what follows is a struggle between Vlad and Dan’s powers and Vlad admitting how his obsession with controlling others drove everyone away, including his close friends Jack and Maddie.

¨Why amass all this power?¨ ¨For control!¨ ¨Why control others?¨ ¨So no one else leaves…¨

¨All i ever wanted was love, but my quest for power drove everyone away. Maddie, Jack… and even young Daniel¨.

This is what Vlad has always been at his core: A broken man that since the accident back in his collegue years and being abandoned by his close friends in a time of need (at least from what it has been implied), became obsessed with being in control of his relationships with others so nobody else could leave him behind again or he couldn’t be hurt again. This is something that often happens with characters that have had things that made their lives spiral out of control, usually as result of being hurt by someone they cared about. To compensante for that lack of control they had in their lives, they try to control people or their own relationships, because they are afraid of being abandoned or hurt again.

Vlad Masters became consumed by this desire to be in control and as result he pushed everyone away. He always looked for something almost every person wants: Being loved and accepted by others. The issue is that he chose the most toxic ways to do this, hurting people that cared about him or could have been potential friends/allies.

And, as a way to distract himself from these feelings of emptiness, he always looked for more and more power- but that was never enough because it wasn’t what truly would make him happy. This is why in the series his arc was about self-desctruction, until he was left with no one that cared about him and finally ending up truly alone. You can see this habit come up again in the graphic novel, as he suggested to find the source of ghost power. Because it was a way to distract his mind from his real issues and having to think about himself. It could be in part that Vlad thought that if he could gain some power, he could be in control again and then he didn’t have to be alone, that things could back they used to be before the Disasteroid.

After Vlad comes in terms with how the problem has always been himself, he decides that his new purpose is going to start making amends and redemming himself for his past actions, leaving behind his obsession to be in control. He helps Danny and they fight together against Dan, defeating him in the process.

Helping Dan

Some moments after Dan gets defeated, he starts to destabilize since he has been outside the timestream for too long.Danny, Vlad and Clockwork discuss if t it is a good idea to trap Dan inside the thermos again until they are interrupted by Dan crying and begging to not be left trapped inside the thermos as he doesn’t want to be alone again.

In a rare moment, Plasmius sympathizes with Dan Phantom, he transforms and frees the ghost, offering his body as a temporal host until they are able to find a way to stabilize him. He expresses that he relates himself to Dan’s fear of being alone and, just like him, he has lost everything in his own timeline no other than by his own hands.

This is important coming from Vlad, a character who was defined by his selfishness and exploiting others for his own gain, showing to be selfless and empathizing with someone’s else pain. As he points out to Danny, he is trying to do the right thing for once, which is taking accountability of his actions and helping another person. Vlad explains to both Dan and Danny that this gesture is a way for him to apologize for his actions and showing that he regrets hurting both of them. He wants to give Dan a ¨second chance¨ and asks Danny if he could give another chance to make things right to him too. Dan accepts the offer, using Vlad’s body as a temporal host.

What it is interesting about this scene is that Vlad asks Danny for a second chance, but he doesn’t ask for his forgiveness. While he apologizes for how much he hurt him, he respects Danny’s choice of not forgiving him or still hating him, showing that he knows that Danny has a right to dislike him after everything he putt he boy through. It’s a good way of demostrating that he has still a long way to go for making up for his actions and he understand this.

I talked a bit more in detail about this scene and why is pretty good in here

Vlad is last seen with Clockwork transfering Dan to one of Danny’s clones that was in Vlad’s lab. Clockwork explains to Vlad that Dan is ¨his responsibility now¨ as even his time powers have a limit. The ending suggest that Dan ends up being taken care of and probably adopted by Vlad, acting as a father figure for him and having the opportunity to be a teenager and have a family again.

In conclusion

Vlad Masters’ character arc in ¨A Glitch in Time¨ is about him realizing that he doesn’t want to be in ¨villain role¨ anymore and having to face the fact that he is the reason he ended up alone and pushed everyone away. Despite of trying to distract himself from this by seeking a new source of power, at the end he realices that his manipulative behaviour made everyone, including himself, miserable.

It’s worth of noting that his arc in this story isn’t a full redemption arc but the start of one. He starting to make amends for his past actions by awknologing what he did wrong and taking care of Dan, who was accidentally freed by Vlad in first place. It’s clear that he has still a lot to make up for and it’s going to take him a long time for him to do that. He is now guardian and ¨parent¨ of Dan. Vlad always dreames with having a family, specially raising up someone who was human-ghost hybrid like him. Now he is going to have to learn what is like to be a father and taking care of someone with a complicated past as his child.

#Danny phantom #danny phantom a glitch in time #Vlad Masters #danny fenton #Dan Phantom #Dp analysis #character analysis

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