#I also planning to give him an ant assistant

[steampunkbunnysworld]

have you drawn a grasshopper?

Sure, but are you okay with a locust instead of a regular grasshopper. I was originally going to make them a guy but I decided to make them non-binary.

Anyways, this is Clover (he/they), they're a totally-not-suspicious librarian who is buddies with my orchid mantis warlock.

#Perdita Phantasia #oc: Clover #original character #oc #fairy oc #grasshopper oc #locust oc #my art #I would like to make a full body reference but I have alot of things to draw #They were also going to have a very loose coat & jacket but I couldn't make it work #I also planning to give him an ant assistant

[spiritual-activity]

Headcanons! (Isaac & Nigel)

[Warning: Contains spoilers and talk of death (of course there will be)]

Have fun reading!

*Isaac*

I like to think that he is from Virginia, so he has a slight southern accent. He hides it well, but it does slip out every now and then. The accent does come out during specific pronunciations and whenever he is caught off guard. He doesn't hide it around Nigel, however.

The Iliad is one of his favorite Greek stories. Can and will recite it word for word. Give him a quote from it and he can tell exactly which book and line it came from.

This man is autistic. You can't tell me any different. The war was sensory hell for him. His handkerchief is essentially a main grounding object for him due to the texture. He will also fidget with the handkerchief when he is nervous. Prefers his room without too much light, but just enough to see (i.e. candles).

Has an extent amount of knowledge about horses. He grew up raising horses on the farms of either family members or family friends. He took great care of his horse (Chestnut- a bay-colored Arabian stallion) during the war since it reminded of the one he had took care of as a boy. Can name the breed of any horse just by looking at them for a second.

Tired a good chunk of the time. Dying of dysentery was not great- dehydration and malnourishment really took a toll on him in the afterlife. Some days, he can manage, but is really sluggish and attempts to hide it from everyone. Other times, it's hard to get out of the bed.

Has a scar on the left side of his face. Obtained said scar from trying to fix the bayonet onto the gun, dropping it and attempting to catch it, with the blade slicing him in the process. Proceeds to say he got it in a fight with another British soldier, but only few know the truth. (Nigel)

Loves giving Nigel top-of-the-head kisses due to his height.

Forgot everything he was originally going to say while proposing to Nigel. Practiced in the mirror for a full hour, went to go propose, then forgot everything due to nerves. Made up something he guessed was what he originally planned. Turned out great either way!

*Nigel*

Has named every duck on the property. Every duck has a different mannerism and/or marking that makes it subtle to tell which is which. Only him and a few other ghosts can tell which duck is which. (His favorite duck is Percy, a mallard that follows him around from time to time)

Has documented over 2 centuries worth of ant drama. By documented, I mean remembered everything and has not forgot a single event. He has given Isaac an overview of the lore so he can rant about what is going on in the ant colony.

Prefers The Odyssey over The Iliad. Him and Isaac have "debates" over which is superior. They both know that both stories are great on their own, but enjoys having to defend their favorite. It adds a bit of fun to their days.

Big on pet names for his beloved. Seems to come up with a different one every hour. Commonly used ones include: "love", "darling", and any variation of "dove" and "dear".

Enjoys the sudoku puzzles that Sam leaves out. Isaac joins him half of the time to assist in the solving. Record time to solve one alone is 5 minutes. With Isaac, 3 minutes.

Contrary to what Isaac says, Nigel fell first. Caught a glimpse across the field and saw him attempting to instruct his men on how to properly fix bayonets. It did not end well for Isaac, but Nigel thought it was adorable.

Complements Isaac's accent every chance he gets. Absolutely adores the accent.

Has a small poem book inside of his coat. He has most likely read it over 1000 times, and yet still enjoys it as well as the first time reading it.

There will be more to come!

#cbs ghosts #cbs ghosts spoilers #cbs ghosts headcanons #cbs ghosts season 2 spoilers #cbs ghosts season 2 #cbs ghosts isaac #cbs ghosts nigel #nisaac

[thesisthehomosexual]

gay bug angst rambling

TW for the usual things involving Tiso/Quirrel and angst: injuries, su1c1d3, s3lf h@rm themes, tr@vm@, all of those sorta themes, be safe this is under the readmore

also what i say in here is not meant to be offensive or encourage anything listed in the triggers. I was just thinking angst thoughts and i though about these two gay bugs

tisoquirrel angst is good but i want to see more unique angst of them other than Quirrel at the blue lake or Tiso getting hurt in the Colosseum. Give me injured pill bug with funny little himbo ant. Reverse the caretaker roles i want to see Tiso deal with taking care of a random ass pill bug. Also the fact the pill bugs turn bright fucking blue when they get sick is such a good opportunity. like what if it was just Tiso: Quirrel you look like the fucking blue lake Quirrel: oh shit Tiso im fucking dying

that would be funny and also good for hurting everyone. Or what about instead of hurting Quirrel we get more Tiso emotional angst? Most of the angst/hurt comfort fics/art i have seen focus on Tiso with physical injuries but what about his e m o t i o n a l d a m a g e ? Cant tell me this ant got no complex emotions needing processing all the fucking bugs lived through a plague brought on by god and he fucking almost(did in cannon) die. That should be plenty enough to fuck him up nice enough to provide plenty emotional pain for us to consume.

Quirrel also more angst other than just "Oh boy i killed monomon my life has no purpose anymore into the lake i go weeeee" we dont know too much about Quirrel's past other than he was Monomon's assistant and worked in the archives and sealing the dreamers. We have basically no clue what could have happened when he left hallownest. What about after the blue lake incident? That gives plenty of opportunities. Blue lake in itself can be so much deeper than we write it as. A lot of things ive read about Quirrel at blue lake have been kinda dry (not to be mean btw, im just ranbling here at 6 am-) i require mentally ill pill bug. There is plenty of ways to portray mental illness without breaking character. I want to see this man take a fucking deep dive into depression or something like that. Just hit him with a fucking train. Also if he attempted to become a rock at blue lake and failed that could be traumatizing. Even if he did not follow through with the attempt the knowledge that he was going to and that he had planned it out could be pretty terrifying for Quirrel.

How could these interact? hehehhee i have prompts if anyone would like them otherwise just think about all the angst :DDDD

here are the promts very much angst btw

Tiso sees Quirrel doing the harming of himself (either as a way to punish himself for something or as a way to ground himself or some other way idk man i just make angst ideas-) and panics before going to try and comfort Quirrel for extra hurt Tiso gets triggered and has a panic attack after it and Quirrel feels awful while comforting Tiso. both are mentally ill your honor.

Tiso snapping at a minor inconvenience and Quirrel comforting him until he eventually cries himself to sleep. Quirrel could ask him about it or he could just be there for him as a form of comfort.

Quirrel getting triggered and having a panic attack after falling into a large body of water soon after his attempt or backing out of it while Tiso has to try and keep Quirrel grounded and let him know he is safe,

Tiso has flashbacks/nightmares of the coliseum and Quirrel learns about it by noticing Tiso not sleeping or he falls asleep on him and has a nightmare.

I love angst can you tell?

#hollow knight #hk quirrel #hk tiso #tisoquirrel #gay bug angst lmao #this was long #6 am rambling #gay bugs #why did i do this

[kimageddon]

A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 103

-|- Page header by space-b33 -|- Masterlist -|-Prince of Dathomir Masterlist -|- Sins of the Father Masterlist -|- Art Masterlist -|- Check out my : Ko-fi / AO3-|-Prompt Challenges-|- Art Attack Weekly Challenge -|- Commissions Open -|- Join my tag list -|-

Maul x Nightsister OC (Zaiya Valessa) - Slight Canon Divergence - Prince of Dathomir Masterlist

Word count: Approx 3700 Contains/Warnings: blood, reliving trauma, wounds, panic attacks, threatening behaviour and an unhinged droid. Chapter Summary: Maul, Zaiya and Venn make it to the station… and meet someone unexpected. Notes: I'M BACK BABEYYYYYYYY!!!! You may have noticed I took an extra week. My apologies but I was in a bit of a state after the trip back and while mostly good, a lot of it was very stressful! >.< I am back now however. Second thing you may notice is I am posting this chapter on Sunday and not Monday. There is a reason for that which brings me to an:

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

During my time off I had a lot to think about ant to assess when it came to my life and the way things are going and how things are going to get significantly busier in the foreseeable future for me. Not to worry, I am not abandoning APOD, but I am however having to drop my update schedule to once a fortnight instead of once a week. This is for two reasons: One - to avoid burnout, I was really starting to struggle for a while there. Two - to give me time for other projects and activities. I will probably have more of a social obligation soon with the new appointments and recommendations. I also, am planning of writing a book. Or rather I am writing it. Sins of the Father I eventually want to turn into my own novel and I have decided I need to work on it more diligently and really get cracking on the story. So going forward, I will be posting on Sunday nights (Sydney time) one week will be APOD and the other will be Sins. It should ease my workload as I have also been doing commissions in regard to my artwork and I am always hoping to improve in that regard. (More at the end!)

Junked - Part 1

The rest of the journey was far more than awkward and Zaiya spent the majority curled in the cockpit and trying to rest, though not fully allowing herself to sleep. It seemed every time she had a moment to sleep lately, she was interrupted --whether by nightmares or Maul. The last two days she hadn’t minded, having been as insatiable as he was. 

She hadn’t even known that side of herself until he had unlocked it. It was also becoming increasingly difficult to be able to lock that part of herself up again. Every time she looked at him she was reminded of those soft expressions and affectionate words he’d been so free with, and the moments she’d felt the galaxy around them fall away into bliss. 

How was she supposed to come back from that? 

The cold manner he now regarded her with was jarring in comparison. It hurt to look at him. Better then, to sit in the cockpit with her knees drawn up to her chest with her eyes closed. That way, if he decided to grace them with his presence she would not have to see him at all. Currently he was in one of the side rooms, probably meditating. Part of her hoped he stayed there. 

“We’re coming up on our location,” Venn said and Zaiya opened her good eye. With a quiet sigh she unfolded herself in the seat and tapped a few buttons in which to assist her friend as they left hyperspace. The blackness of regular space surrounded them and the orb of yellow and green hung before them in the distance. The planet was tiny in comparison to others, more of an asteroid with atmospheric domes than anything. It was a traders port, where sentients would sell exotic plants, species and in their case, droids and ships. It wasn’t the most affordable place, but Venn said they had someone that owed them… and Zaiya didn’t want the details. Despite Venn being more than willing to give them. 

She watched as the planet grew larger in the viewport and she heard the door slide open, the oppressive presence that was her Lord -- full of rage and bitterness -- stood at her back. She felt herself getting annoyed and even angry, Venn had told her she didn’t deserve to be treated like this; and while she perhaps was not in full agreement, she did however agree that something needed to change. 

He either needed to have it out and fight her as they had done in the past or… or perhaps banish her completely. At least then there would be an end to it. 

Even if a deep pit opened in her chest as she thought about it. After everything… could she really accept that? Would she be able to walk away? Or would she rather he take his lightsaber and drive it through her chest instead. 

It might hurt less if she chose that option. 

Either way, something had to give. The tightening of her throat from her own anxiety was enough to drive her mad. With a frown she did her best to push it down and away as they came in on the docking bay. 

The hangar was wide, cobbled together from various parts, as was the entire station, all built from recycled ships, scrap and reused pieces. It was rather ingenious, though it did look much like a trash heap at first glance. It was a great place to trade items inconspicuously.

Zaiya had visited only once before, and it appeared to have accumulated even more junk since the last time she’d been there. 

“Alright, follow me!” Venn said, their tone was light, but there was a significant shift in mood from before. Likely due to Maul’s attempted murder of the Iridonian. Zaiya knew she had to separate the two sooner rather than later. The word ‘behave’ was not in Venn’s vocabulary. 

He moved like a menacing shadow that seemed to loom over her shoulder. Maul’s mood was equally foul and she was rapidly running out of patience. The sooner they got this ship, the better. She could feel something swirling in the Force within him as well, and while it nagged at her, she was still far too on edge to pay it much mind.

They passed a few smaller places, the plan was to fetch the droid after they had procured a ship, and Zaiya was distracted by a vendor off to one side as Venn grabbed some supplies of their own. In her effort to focus anywhere that was not her Lord, she failed to notice the figure approaching rapidly from her left. 

[Mistress!]

Zaiya vaguely heard the call but did not think it was for her as she traded her credits for the item she wanted. An eyepatch. Relatively plain and in black, she slid it over her head and her braid, then began to replace her hood.

[Mistress!] the electronic voice buzzed louder now.  Which sentient wasn’t paying attention to their droid? [Mistress!] That was loud, and right by her ear! Her head snapped up to glare, only to realise the droid was speaking to her. 

“What?” she asked with a start. The ocular implants of the droid seemed to shine happily. She didn’t understand why it was here. For a moment she just stared back at it until she realised she recognised the tall humanoid-shaped machine. It stood tall, and was badly scuffed now, the black paint job was significantly damaged. 

“Sixy?” she asked with a tilt of her head. 

[Yes Mistress!] it said brightly, there was far more intonation in its modulator than she remembered. [It is a relief to see you again, I feared you had perished like the Master.]

“Lieutenant, what--” Maul began in a rough tone as he approached but stopped as he laid eyes on the droid. Zaiya looked over to him, his eyes were locked onto the droid and… he didn’t seem pleased. 

In fact he stood there with wide eyes like he’d seen some sort of nightmare. Maybe he had. 

[Master!] Sixy wobbled toward the crimson Zabrak on its damaged leg, one of them was certainly not its original model. [I had thought you were dead!] 

Maul stared at his former training droid with apprehension. He did not take his eyes off it but he did reach out in the Force. Looking for something. 

“How is it you have come to be here?” he asked slowly. 

[It is a long and strange tale, Master, but after your mission I was left in the training facility for some time. Eventually I must have been deactivated as I reactiated in a strange place. My memory banks had been wiped but eventually I began to recall our training, and the Mistress!] Zaiya stood on the other side of the droid, inspecting its grease-covered face. 

“How is this possible?” Maul sounded disbelieving, it was not heard of for a droid to be able to regain their memories unprompted. How was it possible?

Then Zaiya realised. 

“The spell,” she whispered. 

“What?” Maul snapped, his eyes darting to her. If she didn’t know any better she might have thought he was afraid. 

“Before our last mission, I was rewiring Sixy's chassis, I… may have used magick to aid me. it seems to have had more of an effect than I anticipated, I had meant to make him better able to protect you from Sidious,” she explained and felt his anxiety spike in the Force.

“Did he send you?” Maul hissed to the droid. “Did Lord Sidious send you to find us?” Zaiya slowly looked at him. To anyone else he would have seemed angry, impatient. But to her there was something beyond it. 

[No, I was not sent by anyone. I have been on this station for several galactic standard cycles, but I knew that I would find the Mistress again!] His expressionless head turned to her, [Mistress, I am most grateful to have regained my memories, but please do not be so invasive with me again. I am distressed to hear I was interfered with.] Zaiya frowned slightly, since when was he so emotive? 

“Sure…” she said, sounding slightly confused, had her spell done all this? Or was it the result of a faulty memory wipe? Sidious would not have been so careless as to not fully wipe the droid’s databanks, it had to be the spell. 

“I thought we were looking at droids after we found the ship?” Venn’s voice interrupted as they trotted over, they gave Sixy a once over and frowned. “Really? You want this one? It looks like a walking scrap pile.” 

[I will not tolerate your insult!] Sixy said, suddenly and aggressively, outstretching an arm as if to grab at Venn’s face. They jumped back and Zaiya instinctively stepped forward. 

“Sixy stop!” she demanded. The droid calmed at once and in a far softer voice said;

[Of course, Mistress. Do you know this creature?]

“Yes,” Zaiya nodded, “they are a friend of mine.” 

[Hm.] Zaiya looked at Venn with a sigh. 

“Venn, this is Sixy, it was once Maul’s droid,” she explained. 

“Yyyyeaaahhh…” Venn said very slowly, lowering their arms from their defensive position. “I see the resemblance.” They looked between Zaiya, Maul and the droid, likely regretting answering her call at all. “Anyway, Dran will have the ship you need, he’s just down here--” they pointed down the way toward a large opening, Zaiya could only assume it was a hangar and their destination. 

[I know that vendor, I can assist!] Sixy chimed in and powered off in that direction. Zaiya just watched him go, wondering where the droid’s current owner was. 

“And I thought this day was already weird,” Venn scoffed, “c’mon, let’s go get your kid.” They followed the droid, leaving Zaiya to stare at them like they'd grown a second head. Venn wasn’t the only one having a weird day. She headed toward the hangar and Maul too was an ever-present oppressive feeling in the Force. Relatively passive, but on the inside was something frantic like a bag of angry snakes. Something was going on with him.

She reached the area, only to find the Twi’lek that was apparently Dran, backing away with hands raised from the training droid. He had a broad frame and bulky arms, his face seemed conventionally handsome, and there was quite a bit of scarring on his arms. Zai could see why Venn might like him, from what they’d said, the Twi’lek ticked a lot of boxes regarding their taste. The alien did nothing for Zaiya however. She watched him back into a large durasteel hoist frame and smirked, he seemed terrified of Sixy.

“Keep back!” Dran cried, waving an arm at the three sentients. “The droid is crazy, it’s malfunctioning! Keep away from it!” 

[That does not answer my question,] Sixy said in a firm tone, it had its hands outstretched toward the vendor rather threateningly. Zaiya tilted her head and stepped closer, confused by the Twi’lek’s reaction. 

“To whom does the droid belong?” she asked with a frown. 

“It- it doesn’t belong to anyone, when it arrived here they said it just went mad, killing people… it only stopped because they got a restraining bolt on it!” Dran warned. Zaiya raised a brow, they just let the droid walk around with no one in control of it? Even when it was apparently so violent? 

“Sixy will you step back from the Twi’lek please?” Zaiya said with a calm voice.

[Yes, Mistress,] Sixy immediately lowered its arms and took two small steps backward. Dran’s eyes widened and darted between her and it. 

“You’re its mistress?’ he gasped, “That means you’re gonna take it away, right?” A glimmer of hope in his gaze. Zaiya looked him over before answering. 

“That depends,” she replied, folding her arms. 

“On what?” Dran muttered hesitantly. Zaiya’s monochrome lips became a feline-like smile. 

“On whether we get the ship we need.” 

----

The Twi’lek seemed more than pleased to assist them, no inane questions or displays of cowardice. Maul was indeed on edge. The scrap everywhere, the loud sounds of industry in the hangar, and the wide space beyond, located within a shielded bubble. It was full of the grinding of metal, the smell of grease and tibanna, the heat from the welders. It was too much. Too familiar, too painful. He had spent just short of two years trying to be free of the memories and the madness of Lotho Minor. 

Now he felt like he was back there. 

Zaiya was distracted with the droid and the Iridonian and procuring a ship. She did not see his anger and feelings. These thoughts and feelings he did not dare name. He was not afraid. He would not panic. He was trained to be the one to make others afraid, not be the one to feel fear. He had conquered it! He would not succumb to it now. 

He did however need to get out of here as quickly as possible. 

Movement had his yellow eyes flick over, seeing Venn’s arm slide around Zaiya’s shoulder, watching her just accept it. Like the clone on Kamino. Too close, too personal. She slid from the smuggler’s grip but it had already sparked a thought in him

He remembered the depths of that labyrinth, so dark and miserable. The madness clawing the inside of him, trying to rip its way out and tear him to pieces as it did so. For a time he thought he’d been there forever, that he would be there forever. 

Then he remembered the song. The light in the darkness that called to him when he didn’t even know his own name. She’d come for him. She too was wounded and scarred and yet she had come for him. Maul watched her as she inspected one of the ships and his teeth grit. She had been different when he’d woken from the tank on Kamino… and she had stood between him and the smuggler when they had dared to insult him and threatened her. 

After the last two days he had thought she might understand. But the way the Iridonian was with her. The threats… were they going to take Zaiya away? Was this what he was witnessing?

He’d had the thought that he didn’t need her. That she should leave. He’d been trying to convince himself of that for the last several hours. But it made his chest tighten and a lump form in his throat. He couldn’t. 

Was she going to leave him behind? Abandon him like his master had? It was only a matter of time, really. Yet…

[Master, your breathing has increased and your heart rate indicates a high level of stress,] TD-66 spoke, breaking away from the other two. Maul scowled, but he found he could not bring himself to speak. He dared not let them see him like this and turned away, his face hidden by his hood, though he just looked angry as usual. 

He felt a familiar calm reach out to him in the Force and a tendril of her presence touched him. That did it. His hand grasped the side of the table beside him and a crate full of tools crashed to the floor. The other hand reached for his lightsaber, the anger in him boiling up. 

A second later he felt a firm grip on his wrist. Zaiya positioned herself to block him from looking out to the rest of the junkyard, or from anyone seeing him. She held his wrist from grasping his weapon and squeezed gently. 

“Sire,” she whispered, urgency in her voice, her lips brushing his cheek. He let out a strained sound and tried to push her off, but he found he couldn’t move. His breathing was laboured and his other hand gripped the front of her vest tightly. Her second hand came to rest at the base of his throat, a gentle, grounding touch. 

“Breathe with me,” she whispered, and began taking slow, measured breaths, in and out. He did his best to match them, listening to the sound of her own. 

A vision formed in his mind and he could see a younger and unscarred Zaiya running along a much smaller Venn. Why was he seeing this? They looked frightened, searching desperately for something. 

“Are you alright?” Venn asked, their voice strained. 

“‘M fine, you were the one they went for…” Zaiya replied with a rasping tone. She didn’t sound well, and Maul moved closer, seeing that she had a hand over her shoulder -- she was bleeding! Despite it being a memory, and clearly Zaiya had recovered, Maul could not help but feel his chest tighten. 

He didn’t like seeing her wounded. 

The two made their way to a small alcove and hunkered down, the sounds of blaster fire and shouts getting closer. 

“You should go,” Zaiya whispered, “Adaji’s on his way, you should hide until you get the all clear.” She sank against the wall of their little corner, her expressive face contorted in pain as she rested against the wall. The young Nightsister held her hand over the wound and the other reached for a blaster at her hip, though her movements suggested the blaster was too heavy for her to even lift. 

Maul waited for the Iridonian to abandon Zaiya, leave her there like the coward he knew them to be. Venn however surprised him, and sat beside Zaiya. 

“I’m not leaving,” they insisted and took up a small pouch at their belt with what looked like a very basic first aid kit. “You took a shot for me. No one’s ever done that before. No one… thinks much of me. But you do. So I’m not leaving.” 

“I didn’t do it so you would help me, I did it so you wouldn’t die,” Zaiya chuckled with a slanted grin. She had a waxy look to her face and Maul wanted to reach through the dream to do… something. 

“Well, I’m not gonna die and neither will you,” Venn insisted. They opened a bacta patch and tugged Zaiya’s collar aside to press it onto her skin. She hissed as the cold gel touched the tender wound but remained still. 

“You might if you stay here,” she said and gripped her blaster tighter, though her expression seemed less strained. 

“No way, we’re gonna patch you up and you’re gonna be fine!” Venn’s voice sounded wobbly, like they were emotional, and as Maul looked closer, he realised they were misty-eyed, the child must have been terrified. 

“It’ll be alright, if they come this way, I’m a good shot--”

“No! I’m not leaving!” Ven cried. “You’re my only friend and I am sticking with you! No matter what!” 

Zaiya’s mouth opened to reply but the sound of blaster fire sounded down the hall. Venn launched themselves against Zaiya and did their best to shield her with their body. The Dathomiri woman in turn raised her own blaster and aimed into the opening. Grim determination marring her youthful features.

A second later an armoured warrior -- a Mandalorian in black and orange armour -- appeared. 

“Kid! You’re alright!” Maul recognised him as the one Zaiya called Adaji Treshan, and it was he that swooped in and brought the two teenagers with him, telling them they were safe now and they could be tended on the ship. 

With that, the memory faded. 

After several minutes, Maul returned to the moment and concentrated on her touch; the movement of her chest rising and falling where his hand gripped her shirt, his grasp slackened and he felt the levels of the strange feeling subside. He’d never felt anything quite like it, not since he was very small. He refused to name it. 

“I didn’t put it together, sire, I’m sorry.” She spoke gently in his ear, her tone so warm and soft. “I didn’t realise how a place like this might affect you.” 

“I am not affected,” he sneered, and moved to pull away. 

“Should I leave you?” she asked suddenly. He stopped and looked back at her. “Should I leave your side?” 

“I should say yes…” he muttered. He admitted it, she weakened him. She made him feel things he had never imagined and he craved her far more than he had cared for or wanted anything. “But I cannot.” There was a long pause. “Do you wish to go?” 

“I would rather carve my still-beating hearts out, sire.” He looked up and met her eyes with a hard look. She meant that?

Suddenly he pulled her in by the waist, speaking low in her ear, shame burning him to speak the words. 

“Do not leave me,” he breathed. “As your Lord, I command it.”

“I will never leave your side, sire. Even if you are ashamed of me, will still stand by--”

“What?” he asked, confused. “Ashamed? Of you?” 

“You put distance between us,” she said plainly. “I understand it, you would not wish to be seen with someone like me--” he cut her off again, this time with his mouth slanted on hers, dragging her in and holding her tightly. He kissed her like he needed her to breathe. 

How could she think he was ashamed of her?! She truly did not know how agonising it was to not touch her like this? How having her close was so soothing and comforting? Was it not obvious what she did to him?! It took all his inner strength to not pin her to the table right there. He pulled back slightly, a hand to her cheek, and pushed the eyepatch aside to look into both of her eyes. 

“I put distance between us because--”

“HOLY MOTHER OF KRIFF!”

Oh kark it to the Void… He’d forgotten Venn was there. He shot a glare in their direction and then the expression softened as he looked back at Zaiya. 

“We shall discuss it later,” he said quietly. 

“Yes sire,” she replied in a breathless voice that nearly made him shiver. He had to pull away before he lost the last shred of control he had. The dregs of that awful feeling lingered, but he felt infinitely better. She wasn’t leaving. She wasn’t abandoning him. 

“Kriff that was hot,” Venn said with a low whistle, approaching Zaiya. “That zabrak is the luckiest bastard in the galaxy.” He heard Zaiya scoff, but for the first time, he might actually agree with the smuggler. 

Notes: Well well well! Look who it is! I hope you all liked today's chapter, it was a bit of a cliffhanger last time, but things are looking up for these two lovelorn fools! …Let's see how long it stays that way, hm? And what was he going to say???

Thank you for everyone who has stuck with me over the last year or so, and I know there are new readers all the time so welcome welcome! As always I appreciate you all very very much! I think you're all great and if you can, please consider a like, a comment or sharing this story with another SW fan! I think you guys are the best! I hope you are all doing well!

See you next week for Sins! <3

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[orphic-ideas0x55]

Explanation (8)

Fortunately, fandom has already noticed that Loki is significantly worse of physically at the beginning than at any other point of the movie [The Avengers].

He is wan, sweaty, with pale lips and dark shadows beneath his eyes and he hardly stands on his feet. Obviously, something terrible must have happened, because during the rest of the movie, Loki looks much better in spite of beating, shooting, blowing up and Hulk.

Marvel: the Chitauri are wiping out disorder and free will wherever they find it.

So… undoubtedly, they tried to wipe out free will of the strange alien that had unexpectedly fallen into their space. They forced him into submission and made him work for them.

Loki makes hints in his first speech.

An ant has no squarrel with a boot.

A strange comparison, isn’t it? A boot is an inanimate object that has no will and serves as an instrument of its owner.

I come with glad tidings.

Then he compares himself with a messenger, who also doesn’t make decisions himself, but only hears other’s announcements.

The behaviour of Chitauri’s boss during the briefing.

He holds Loki as a slave - assaults, humiliates , forbids any doubts about authority and power of the Chitauri, threatens violence, and finally hurts him with some kind of telepathic effect. And all of that unfounded, because Tesseract is taken, Loki is successful beyond doubt.

That could be the source of all his Freedom is life’s great lie and In the end, you will always kneel.

Loki, as we saw him in Thor, was not capable of creating such ideas. Serious brainwash was needed to put them into his head.

What can one do against an army? Sabotage, diversion, stay-in strike, having enough skills to scheme against superior enemy forces, too proud to complain or seek asylum, an open rebellion won’t do, because the Chitauri will search for a deserter always and everywhere.

This, here is a plot, worthy of Loki:

The Chitauri got Loki (no matter how) and forced him into submission. When he realised that they wouldn’t leave him in peace by any good reason, he thought out a plan. He pretended to give in, agreed on cooperation, but demanded the Earth as a reward, declaring that he wouldn’t otherwise do anything, no matter what Chitauri might do to him.

Considering the Earth a little world with meagre might the Chitauri accepted the condition. Unlike them, Loki seems to be the only alien, who comprehends the true potential of the Earth. That’s why he chose it - the world, which can teach the Chitauri a lesson. After obtaining the Tesseract, he passed formal quest to Selvig and Barton and occupied himself with the true intrigue. He surrender to the Avengers and quietly waited for somebody to come and question him. Loki intended to keep the appearance of serving the Chitauri, but also tried to fail the affair before the invasion.

This - after whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate - was his real plan, and he was really disappointed that it had not been done to him until Barton’s arrival.

Since the Avengers didn’t want to communicate… Plan B - arrange a shameful defeat of the Chitauri from the hands of midgarian units.

That was the plan - exactly!

When Thor offered to stop the invasion, Loki made him fight, because he still had to play a Chitauri’s assistant, but actually delivered the stuff (which is the key able to close the portal) to Thor without any resistance. Loki could gain an ultimate victory: create few illusions and hypnotise Hulk while he was crushing them. Or just freeze him (sure Loki can do that, being partly a Frost Giant). Instead of it, Loki shows off in front of Hulk just like Agent K in front of Bug: Eat me! EAT ME! Because this time for Loki to remove himself from the chessboard, so, where the Chitauri will come for him, he will be able to shift the blame on them: their vaunted forces failed while he almost broke fighting for them.

One last thing. Why he chose New York City for the battle? The arc reactor is not the only reason. The second is - television. Such an even cannot be kept secret. Now the whole world knows about the aliens. That means, from now on they have no chances to conquer or to invade the Earth secretly. The world will be ready.

#exp

[the-firebird69]

Special Master's Proposed Helper Could Cost Trump $500 Per Hour

"Special Master's Proposed Helper Could Cost Trump $500 Per Hour" https://www.newsweek.com/special-masters-proposed-helper-could-cost-trump-500-per-hour-1745581

His publishing things that are fictitious forcing it paying for it tricking people. Here you have someone who is tricked by it. The special master was rejected by the courts at first he said he could do it then they're trying to go through the selection process and recently the judge denied it and it's on writing it's in other news articles and this one is newer and it's wrong. And they're not going to have an assistant. Now the problem is that he intends on sifting through the records and the court said no The district Court and he's going to Superior Court and the date is for tomorrow Saturday yes and he's going to Spirit Court in Tallahassee to allow for the special master but he does not have approval any plans on going through the documents tonight and he says that he needs some collateral so he's been trying to get the package sent to her son and credit cards and all sorts of weird stuff the guy's a loser like you guys that gives him attention and it gets hurt this is a nutcase. I'm going to cut him down I'm so sick of this crap you know senses I wish you would his his people need to leave positions in such a piece of dog s*** it's nothing to do it who's president is a huge criminal some harassing us forever some monster too. Can we have some other major criminals around here and this network is attracting all our attention and taking our time I don't have to be done with them so I can focus on others. I'm issuing the order to start a campaign against him since he's the squeaky wheel and bring him down tonight we're going to pop that son of a b**** right in the face I'm going to smash them and for his commentary we got to increase the ante and go for that stupid a****** and a dumb radios area too not only leave like two areas that we're not going to bomb I'm going to use enormous ones what they've been doing all day is creating empty aircraft facilities and we know that they see spiders cuz we made them somewhat visible and sent them over a few times and a bunch of planes.

I'm getting ready to watch the attack they're going to be very very effing surprised let me see what we're doing

I'll have to watch that globally our sun says it's absolutely true and we're starting to prep right now to begin bombing. It's a huge patterned bomb attack and it is going to be precise and we're doing it on purpose we don't like you idiots and we anticipate about 20 million octillion gone no more like 20 billion and that was earlier estimates we think maybe about 100 billion idiots and they'll be crippled if not out completely you're an idiot next door and you're totally out to lunch and never listen to anything and BJ is fairly recovering and it's more or less a complete dick and invite is not wanted it all he just fools in our face doing an act we don't want to see. It's garbage and you think it's gold and you won't stop it's unimpressive and you think we're lying it's impressing us we found out why what's going on taking stuff and you think that we fall for your Acts so going to raise the living crap out of you after strategic strike then we're going to hit you very hard it's going to go like that for a while and towards the end of it we're going to start using really heavy stuff you moving soldiers in not out

Thor Freya

[dangerousdinosaurduck]

Guo liar "bankrupt", evading debts and avoiding punishment, delusional delusions have become "potentially ruined"

All ants "self-rescue" urgently produce evidence to stop losses and apply for "legal aid"

On February 15, 2022, Guo Wengui solemnly broke the news in the live broadcast: apply for bankruptcy. This means that the "liar superstar" in the eyes of the ants has fallen, the president of the New China Federation has fallen, and the food of the gang of liars has been "broken." From today onwards, the head of the beggar gang can eat in prison at any time! 134 million fines and huge debts are really like a "Himalayan" on the crooks, and it seems wishful thinking to try to file for bankruptcy to avoid debts and fines. The wall fell and everyone pushed it, and then the court enforced it and pursued it. There were ants who applied for legal aid in the debt collection army. Guo liar could not escape even if he broke the pot.

People are too daring to be fat. This is indeed the case. While racking his brains to evade the court's sanctions, Guo Wengui advocated "Xi Coin" to defraud lawyers' fees, and quickly arranged for the first lawyer to assist him in submitting the world's most powerful bankruptcy application: collect debts from himself! The second debt collector in the ranking turned out to be Guo Wengui himself! It's not just daring, it's just a dog jumping over the wall, pretending to be crazy and selling stupid. It's just about filing for bankruptcy. Putting yourself "second in debt collection" is evidence of self-destruction of opening a leather bag company, money laundering, and hiding money. Three hundred taels of silver" is smart. Or did Wen Gui mean "self-confession"? Impossible, because there is no thief or liar in the world who thinks money is stolen and swindled. Especially a liar like Guo Wengui, who has long been labeled as a "red notice fugitive". As we all know, Guo Wengui has always used "escape",

"Avoid" and "install" to continue life. Now I use "broken" again to be clever. During the epidemic, in order to save his life, he "escaped" to the yacht "Mrs. May" ; the Bannon border wall incident and the hard disk incidents Guo liar used "avoidance" to save his life, seeking advantages and avoiding disadvantages, all the blame was pushed to Bannon and Lu Da The head, in turn, all the benefits are their own "wise planning". And later the infighting broke out that Sare helped build a leather bag company to cheat money, launder money, and hide money. whitewash. There are also poor people who "pretend to be poor" when they can't pay their rent, "pretend to be rich" when new scams are launched, and "pretend to be dead" when the scam is discovered ... Now, the court's enforcement is approaching, and Guo Wengui wants to "break" life. As everyone knows, when people give them the nickname "pot liar", "broken" is naturally a crime. To file for bankruptcy, you must first recognize and provide a list of leather bag companies; secondly, you must have sufficient reasons for bankruptcy, at least one of the reasons for bankruptcy, recognize the debt crisis, and recognize the 134 million fine imposed by the court. Filing for bankruptcy, then, is naturally self-defeating, and evading debt and court fines is wishful thinking.

Everyone's eyes are sharp, and the ants should be more awake. Call on the ants to watch Zhu Wanli's live broadcast "Guo Wengui has more money than God!" Guo Wengui's filing for personal bankruptcy is equivalent to declaring that everything he initiated will go bankrupt! One more warm reminder: Guo Wengui's monthly income source is exposed! Guo Wengui's only income is $19,488 per month, which comes from his spouse, family, children, parents, and roommates to cover his daily expenses. In addition, there is no other income, including wages, subsidies, operating income, rental income, dividends and interest, copyright income, and pensions. "Hundreds of billionaires" are still "gnawing the old", relying on their 90-year-old father and family to support them. I also have to say that there have always been individual ants who have hoped for Wengui, and have been fantasizing about becoming rich in hope, but have been waiting and watching in the midst of shattering. Exposing and criticizing Guo Wengui kept promising that Xi Coin and the G series would bring investment returns a million times more to his comrades, but as a result, he rudely withheld the investment funds of Ant. The little ant said that he would use his "hi coin" to save the bully. The premise is to deceive brother to unlock his own lock coins. However, when Brother Bully was still alive and kicking in the live broadcast room on the 15th, there must be no problem with Lady May's fine. At present, the bully has filed for bankruptcy. The next step is to pretend to be crazy. This time Wengui's filing for bankruptcy is enough to make individual ants completely desperate!

From "fugitive" to "liar", and then from "liar" to "scorpion". Guo Wengui only survived by the three-character tactics of "escape", "avoidance" and "pretend". This time it is the word "broken", and it is completely over! may I ask? What else can the "pot-washing president" ants expect? One word of advice, ants throw away their fantasies and actively provide evidence, and it is urgent to apply for legal aid!

[gustingirl]

gvf headcanon | masterclasses

request: could you possibly do some head cannons on something to do with the masterclasses and the reader?

disclaimer: this will probably be about reader (y/n) working for greta van fleet!

cal a. bungah.

i’m literally only picturing you as some sort of assistant of production who was sent to hell when asked to help with the masterclasses. like they would literally send you there as they knew you were dating sam and he would feel comfortable if you were around. it wasn't like that, actually. he was comfortable, but just couldn't keep a straight face as he would see you trying hard to not laugh at his dialogues. in case you were wondering, yes, you were the one who had to drink whatever he was preparing.

you had no idea what he was up to as you were only asked to control him. weird task, but you knew you were the only one who could do it. however, it was pure chaos as sam could not stay in character. there was always something going on; he was laughing because you were about to; he needed to give you a kiss because you looked too cute; he got distracted as he glanced at your face every possible moment. in revenge, the producer made you try whatever sam was doing as part of the sketch. as soon as the video was over, sam was again laughing as he watched you drink gallons of water.

"oh come on! it wasn't that bad! it's vegan vodka!" he kept yelling as he tried to gain composure after laughing. you were almost about to puke when he hugged you "come here, you little baby. you can't keep it up with the great cal a. bungah!" now you were the one laughing uncontrollably, loving every second passed with this man by your side.

dr. j.m.k

with josh, i feel like not only you were aware of his sketch but you also helped planning it, probably alongside with him. in fact, i even believe he would sneak some little inside jokes with you just to confuse fans and to please you. like sam, he probably would always be looking at you, gaining a few lectures from the producer as he was wasting time. but the look in his eyes would be much more mischivellious than anything else.

like i imagine the whole "everything's about sex" moment. that bit had to be recorded many times as each time josh would start clapping, you both would suddenly burst into loud laughter, making everybody be buffled. he started making jokes, saying he wasn't going to look at you because you were distracting him. this constant teasing with him was so common in your relationship that it only made you laugh more. every possible blooper from this sketch was all because of josh relating everything with you.

"everything fucks, the trees fuck, the clouds fuck, the ants fuck, even y/n and i fucked before doing this!" the comment was so random it made everybody laugh, especially you two as you always made these jokes with friends. now your friends weren't around, and you could feel some people getting a bit uncomfortable. you made him signs to cut it out, though giggling as you loved the sudden comment. "sorry sorry! i just had to say it as it's true" once josh had calmed down, filming continued.

oliver reed.

your favorite part would actually be buying the costume. i feel like, since it's oliver reed we're talking about, jake actually would want to participate in the process, the pre production as he would call it. but it truly was just choosing the beard, really.

you had done the rest already but the beard was missing. the producer had asked you to chat about it with jake, to see exactly what he wanted to look like. the clothes were easy to find and for some reason he already had the cane. but jake was really excited about the beard. he even asked you to join you in the "beard journey" as he liked to call it. you took him with you, not expecting to actually visit 15 stores as mr oliver reed wasn't finding the beard he wanted.

"this one makes me look old, right?" he looked over at you and you couldn't help but laugh at his state of frustation while wearing the lamest cheapest fake beard you had ever seen. upon seeing how much fun you were having, jake didn't hesitate before joining you "what is it, mate? are ya thinking what i am?" he grabbed your hands and began speaking like an old man, even spitting at you 'accidentaly' as he continued "would you spend ya time with me forevah?" the fake british accent made you laugh even harder as you replied with a yes in the same accent.

chip bunker.

i feel like, since this one was at a field and not inside a place, you and danny would be so excited for the filming. as he enjoyed playing golf with you (whether you truly liked it or not was not important as you also loved doing anything with him), he had asked for you to be there and help him with everything. it would feel like a little adventure together, though you weren't as alone as you wished you were.

i imagine like the day of the filming. you were helping unload everything, especially the cameras. but suddenly danny called you over with a big smile. you went straight to him and helped him get ready. he began asking you everything; if he looked good, what stick to choose, what lines to say. he wanted it to be perfect but mostly, he wanted to you to enjoy it.

"are you sure i look like i golf?" danny wondered as he looked at himself in the mirror. his question actually made you pout; he was trully unsure. you hugged him from behind while smiling and pecked his back as much as you could.

"i’m sure, my chip bunker" he giggled at the nickname and turned around to hug you and kiss you properly. after the not-so short kiss, you leaned back to look at him properly "you better keep this outfit for tonight, bunker" it was your weird wink that made him blush and laugh hard

hope you guys liked it! thanks for reading ily <3

#greta van fleet #gvf #.gvftxt #greta van fleet headcanon #greta van fleet headcanons #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #jake kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x reader #danny wagner x reader #greta van fleet fic

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

#jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jeongguk #jungkook fluff #kpop #kpop fic #jjk #bts x reader #how did i manage to write this

[hitodama3]

The Consorts Go Feral

Story ideas someone please please please write this I need it.

So there's some kind of competition where all the different regions of the demon realm get together. So of course SQQ and SQA have to go with their demon husbands.

At the competition SQQ and SQA are just chilling when they over hear their husbands stating that they'll win the competition for them. It's a pairing based competition where all the high rank demons do some competitions and scavenger hunts and stuff like that So of course the demon lords and their consorts are going to compete together.

Now they don't mean it in a bad way it's just demon instincts that they want to show off for their consorts and provide for them so that they don't have to actually participate but will still win and get the prizes. Especially considering they didn't want to come to the competition.

Now both SQQ and SQA are millennials and even though they didn't want to come if they hear someone making fun of them and saying they couldn't actually do the thing they didn't want to do they're going to do it out of spite.

Enraged that their demon husbands think they're such delicate flowers that they could not win the competition they declare then and there that they are going to be on a team together and they'll see who wins the competition then.

Combining SQQ's monster knowledge and SQA's world knowledge they make a formidable team. Then the system decides to make it interesting and make it a quest for b points or some kind of reward at the end but once the quest is activated LBH's protagonist Halo is turned off so that he won't automatically win the competition.

So since the north is the one hosting this event and SQA had to set most of it up he knows the entire schedule for the event. So on the first day SQQ is left to win the first competition while SQA sets up for the second day. You don't need both competitors to be there to win the competition and just one of them has to do the work to win.

So the teams or the three teams that the stories mainly going to focus on is SQQ and SQA, LBH and MBJ, and a surprise pairing that showed up to crash the competition TLJ and ZZL!

So first day is a killing competition there is some kind of sensor or something that tracks how many beasts that you kill. SQQ using his knowledge of flora and fauna finds the blood trees that inhabit the area of the competition is being held and since he can use leaf attacks he's able to infuse the slightly sentient trees with his qi communicating to them that they can use him as the lure flower to attract prey and they'll get to consume any of the beasts and the blood that is attracted by him. So not having to do any work SQQ sits down in the middle of these trees like a lotus flower in his bright green robes and flares his qi drawing monsters to the trees that then kill them and the blood starts soaking into the ground so eventually his robe gets stained with blood. So his counter keeps going up for kills because he is technically the one bringing in the kills even if he's not doing it himself. SQA has gone off on his own to bring them a last-minute win if needed and also to prepare for tomorrow's competition.

Team demon lord and team former demon lord are still heavenly demons and so they are the only ones at the top of the scoreboard that are battling super hard. SQQ is still keeping up with them but is remaining in third place and it's kind of annoying him but he's also not actively putting in any work trusting that airplane is going to pull through.

The day is almost over and both team demon Lord and team former demon Lord are baiting each other as they're trying to find even a little bit more prey and they come upon SQQ in the middle of the cove of blood trees just looking transcendent in his light green robes as the entire floor of the forest is just covered in blood and you see that his robe goes from its nice translucent green to the bright red of blood and he looks amazing.

LBH and TLJ try and tease him for being in third place when there's only a few seconds left to the competition about to end when suddenly team consort score skyrockets and airplane pokes his head out from behind a tree shaking his hands complaining about an ant hill or whatever the proud immortal demon way version of an ant hill is that had gotten flooded and eventually drowned them due to the blood building up in the cove of blood trees which is what airplane was betting on. Though the ants aren't impressive to kill they still count as lives taken and So team concerts score considers that as lives taken and puts them in first place.

Team demon Lord are of course very impressed and infatuated with their consorts but SQQ and SQA are still peeved about the earlier comments and snub them for the night and have a sleepover but of course demons being demons think that the concerts are sleeping together because of the fact that they're snubbing their husbands.

The other demons are also impressed by them winning and thinks since they are mad at their husbands they might get a shot with the consorts and that just makes team demon Lord very mad. Of course team former demon lord specifically TLJ is going to rattle the beehive because he enjoys chaos and likes to tease his son so will be flirting with SQQ and inciting ZZL to flirt too.

SQQ Will ignore it or be oblivious as usual. SQQ is under the impression that since demons are might makes right if he wants to make a impression he needs to be very aggressive instead of his very calm demeanor as a peak lord. SQA who is a gremlin and enjoys causing chaos and is still mad at his husband is not going to tell SQQ any different. So SQQ on the second day is channeling all of his anti. fan hatred and his S tendencies to verbally and physically destroy the other demons when needed. Demons who are might makes right society meaning they're attractive to people who are powerful meaning that they're all slightly M's under all that bluster are very attracted to this. SQA who sees his son LBH wanting to tear all of them apart for looking at his consort and feels vindictively pleased for all of the anxiety his son has caused him.

Now because SQQ acted as the lure flower and brought them such great amounts of food that the blood trees will probably not have to eat for another year means that the trees have taken a very great liking to him. So to improve his image of terrifying the blood trees have started interacting with him just as he walks around or doing things for him like picking up his fan if he drops it or if he needs something the roots will spring from the ground and bring it to him and finally to make him more demonic to go with his aggressive approach he's taken to the vines weave a crown of branches around his head making him look like he has his own set of horns.

The demons are very curious if SQQ is a demon that has been parading as a cultivator. Now the second day of the competition is a battle campaign where the top three teams from the day prior will be put in charge of the other teams based on a lottery and will wage war. The top teams being the generals in the war. SQA knew this and prepared in advance for it setting up a bunch of booby traps and acquiring a certain animal for SQQ to tame with cucumber bros ability to cause anything demonic or non-demonic to fall for his charms. SQA Will lead the army in the front to utterly decimate team demon lord and team former demon Lord while SQQ is to stay back and look intimidating.

Essentially make all of the focus be on cucumber bro while airplane bro is able to work behind the scenes and take down the armies while they're too focused on cucumber bro. To assist with this since cucumber bros outfit is soaked in blood from the day prior airplane prepares a more demonic outfit meaning there's very little cloth involved in black and dark green to give cucumber bro a bit more demonic aesthetic. He gives a BS reason to assist with cucumber bros misinterpretation of demonic culture that cucumber bro will be valuing the culture by dressing like this. SQQ is aware there's a trap involved but not where the trap is so just goes along with it because he is still mad at LBH.

So cucumber bro comes out in this dark black and dark green outfit with his striking face especially making him look very disdainful & beautiful due to the color change and the demons are taken with him. Especially because the blood trees have weaved the branch horn crown into his hair this morning instead of him putting in his normal hair piece and so he looks very demonic.

Airplane puts into action his second part of the plan and gives cucumber the hellhound babies that he had acquired the day prior. Cucumbers immediately smitten with them of course and fawns on them all day completely ignoring his husband and his increasingly desperate attempts to get cucumbers attention.

Now it's time for them to wage war and cucumber sets up shop in his blood forest now and looks like he's the one leading the army but really airplane is working his magic in the background and suddenly destroying everyone while they're paying too much attention to cucumber.

ZZL tries to capture SQQ on orders TLJ but he's trying to be respectful and not touch him too much and apologizing for having to be rough. SQQ has a soft spot for ZZL and the care and loyalty he's shown and does not want to harm him either. Now airplane was expecting this so had made sure that cucumber had a container of that rice wine whatever alcohol was used in the book to intoxicate ZZL after hearing about SQQ's misadventures in his plant body.

Because of this ZZL is intoxicated and immobilized by the blood trees think very much the tentacle hent*i after all this is airplanes world. He is struggling a lot and even though they were enemies SQQ does really like ZZL And doesn't want him hurt So what does Mr I need to hide LBH who has snuck onto the premises from his father of course I'll throw a bed sheet over him and sit on him do? But sits on ZZL's back while he's struggling using him like a chair or bench. Then completely oblivious to the sexual overtones and quite sadistic overtones of what he's doing he says something like ZZL makes a very comfortable chair and that he shouldn't struggle so much placing the container of wine or alcohol right in front of his face so that he stays intoxicated and the trees tighten so he can't move from his position.

LBH is chugging vinegar at this point. Eventually LBH and TLJ Make it to where SQQ is enthroned in his circle of trees but because the protagonist Halo is taken off SQQ is able to fight them to a standstill until the blood trees are able to immobilize them because the second benefit of these trees is that they are one of the few flora that can take out heavenly demons and are unaffected by heavenly demon blood outside of drinking it makes them stronger.

After immobilizing TLJ SQQ Will come up to him and lightly stroke the fan across his body up to his chin saying that he won't go any further or something similar because TLJ is quite breakable while cucumber is referencing the plant body thing where TLJ would fall apart everyone nearby thinks something entirely different and in the much more S category.

SQQ Then turns to his husband and lightly taps his fan against his chin mockingly asking what he thinks he might be able to do now that he has completely taken over both generals of one team in the war game and has one general from the other team. LBH is slightly confident that they'll come to a tie because MBJ will obviously be able to take out airplane but just as he says that airplane comes trotting into the cove of trees with MBJ tied up and immobilized on the back of a cerberus like hellhounds that is apparently the mom of the litter that airplane left with cucumber bro. Seeing that cucumber bro treated them so well and that they liked the two cultivators the mom decided to help out just as airplane planned. The hellhounds are fire based demons and were able to absolutely destroy the ice-based demons MBJ included.

So at this point team consort has won two out of the three events so they're obviously the winner and at this point the third day is just all of the demons trying to prove they would be good partners for the two consorts since obviously there husbands aren't satisfying them if they are participating in the event together.

The third day is a scavenger hunt for rare items and I haven't thought of what would happen during that day past that is a scavenger hunt so you can have free license with that day on what happens. Whether they sweep the competition and then have their wicked way with their husbands or if they decide to sleep with someone else.

This post had no structure and was very voice to text so I apologize for probably the large amount of grammar mistakes I just needed to get this idea out.

#sqq #sqa #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shang qinghua #luo bingmei #luo binghe #mobei jun #tianlang jun #zhuzhi-liang #svsss #scum villian self saving system #as you can tell im LBH and am a shizun main since i focused on him so much #sqa mains add on how sqa would look badass and beautiful too

[ididntneedanewfandom]

Continuing my collaboration with @paraniva-art​ for BakuDeku Winter Week...

We did Sweaters on day 1, Sick on day 2, and now Ice Skates for day 3...

_____

"Never?"

"Never."

Katsuki frowns. He's pretty sure he remembers a couple of school trips to the ice rink in their elementary school days, so what the hell?

"I didn't go to those," Deku says in a strangely blank voice when Katsuki reminds him of that. He gestures at the mat between them. "Are we going again? Aizawa-sensei is starting to give us the stink eye."

Katsuki glances toward their teacher, and sure enough he's staring in their direction. They're the only ones not actively engaged in sparring, so of course they stand out. He nods and gestures for Deku to come at him. Sparring with no quirks is no fun if you ask him. He understands the reasoning behind the activity, understands that there'll be times when he won't be able to use his quirk, either because the setting doesn't allow it or because a villain neutralizes him in a similar way Aizawa can do, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

At least he gets to spar with Deku. These days, he doesn't mind so much being paired with him.

All right, he doesn't mind at all. He actually looks forward to it.

Not that Deku seems to realize as much. He's as oblivious as ever, and Katsuki is not exactly subtle to begin with. Just about all the class has caught on by now, if he's to believe the amused looks he gets from his band of idiots... and the rather alarmed ones Deku's friends give him on the regular. A couple of weeks ago, IcyHot even warned him that a toe out of line would get him a fist in the face.

Of course Katsuki replied with a fist of his own in the idiot's face. Which turned into an all out brawl. Which is how Katsuki ended up paired with Deku today, much to IcyHot's chagrin. Why he thinks it's up to him to 'protect' Deku, Katsuki has no idea. It's not like he has his sights set on Deku--Katsuki knows; he asked, point blank, and IcyHot was startled enough that he actually replied. And then immediately turned the question back on Katsuki, and took his lack of reply as an answer. He didn't look all that surprised, which annoyed the hell out of Katsuki.

By now, Katsuki is sort of despairing Deku will ever get a clue. Maybe it's time to up the ante.

"Why didn't you go to the ice rink outings, then?" he asks in between not-so-easily parried punches, going back to the topic at hand. He's not even sure how they started talking about ice skating, but now he really wants an answer.

"My mom didn't think it'd be a great idea," Deku mumbles. "You know, sharp blades, slippery surfaces, classmates who sort of pushed me around..."

Katsuki's stomach twists unpleasantly in a way he's learned to recognize as guilt.

"She didn't let you come because of me," he says blankly. "Because she thought I'd get you hurt."

Deku shrugs a bit and opens his mouth--to defend his mother or Katsuki, it's hard to tell--but just then Aizawa calls out the end of class. They follow the rest of their peers to the changing rooms, and Katsuki watches, a little annoyed, as IcyHot gets Deku's attention and makes him smile.

Katsuki wants to punch the idiot again, but he does not follow through. For one thing, it'd annoy Deku, which at this point is counter-productive. And for the other...

The beginning of a plan is forming in his mind, and, sadly enough, he'll need IcyHot's cooperation to make it work. Not his <i>help</i>, he doesn't need anyone's help, just... an assist. Or maybe even two.

Much to the general shock of the class, he volunteers to make food for everyone that night. The look IcyHot gives him when he sees the cold soba is somewhere between appreciation and suspicion, like he thinks Katsuki poisoned the food or something. It's almost entertaining.

Katsuki talks to Yaoyorozu first. He knows everyone in the class has asked something from her at one point or another in the past couple of years, and he was sort of proud that he'd never used the girl in that way, but apparently he's no better than everyone else. The thought displeases him, and he's probably grumpier than he should be when he asks his favor, but she doesn't bat an eyelash and merely smiles.

"Of course," she says. "What sizes do you need?"

She ends up making the ones for Deku bright red; Katsuki's are black with an orange X on the back.

Next, Katsuki has to talk to IcyHot. Which involves explaining to him why he wants this favor. Which means admitting he was an asshole when he was younger--but that's nothing new he supposes. Which also means owing the idiot a favor in return... and he collects right away.

"I want a promise," IcyHot says, arms crossed and looking much too serious for comfort.

"What?" Katsuki grunts.

He expects a ridiculous request, because even if they're--mostly--friends these days, or at the very least friendly, riling each other up is too much fun to forego altogether. Instead, he gets a very quiet, "Promise this isn't just a game for you."

Katsuki feels his cheeks turning bright red. He glares that much harder. "What the fuck kind of games do you think I play?"

"The kind that could get my friends hurt," IcyHot says coolly. "Both of them."

Katsuki sputters. Could the idiot be even more embarrassing?

"I'm not playing," he answers in the end, a barely audible mutter, because IcyHot is still waiting for an answer.

IcyHot just nods.

"All right, then. Is six o'clock early enough?"

Katsuki would have preferred earlier, but it'll have to do. He nods. And, very quietly, very grudgingly, mumbles. "Thanks, Todoroki."

The idiot nods again, and smiles a bit when he says, "Good luck."

*

Six o'clock.

In the morning.

On a Sunday.

Izuku groans and glares in the direction of his door.

His door on which someone, some very inconsiderate someone, is currently knocking insistently.

The glare doesn't stop the knocking, so he ends up getting up and going to open, so he can glare at--

"Kacchan?" falls from his lips when he sees who's standing there. He's not sure he isn't still dreaming. "Is something wrong?"

Kacchan looks at him as he opens his mouth, then hurriedly looks away.

"Clothes," he mutters. "I mean, get dressed. Warm clothes. Then come downstairs."

"Huh?" Izuku says, because he's still half asleep and none of this makes a lot of sense.

"Just do it already, Deku," Kacchan scowls at him, but just for the time of a blink before looking away again. "I'll be waiting."

He grabs the door and closes it, leaving Izuku so confused that, for a moment, he just stares at the closed door. Curiosity soon pushes him into action.

"Clothes," he says, remembering what Kacchan said, then looks at himself.

Oh.

He's just wearing boxers, and nothing else. And they're his loose sleeping boxers, so they're riding pretty low on his hips.

He got too hot last night, an effect of his new quirk, and he stripped out of his t-shirt. And apparently opened the door practically naked. No wonder Kacchan wouldn't look at him, he thinks, blushing in delayed embarrassment.

He's still a little flustered when he comes down, but Kacchan doesn't say anything other than a quick, "Come on," before he leads the way outside. Izuku follows, and is taken by such a feeling of deja vu that he has to ask, "We're not going to Ground Beta, are we?"

He knows they're not, because they're headed toward the woods, but it sounds better than asking if Kacchan plans to beat him up again.

Kacchan just rolls his eyes at him and doesn't actually answer.

Five minutes later, they get to a clearing in the woods where they stop to spar, sometimes, when they're out running. To be honest, Izuku loves those morning runs, when he gets to have Kacchan for himself for a little while.

There'll be no sparring today, though. The entire clearing glimmers in the early sunlight, and when Izuku lets out a quiet, "Oh," his breath mists up in front of his face. A sheet of ice covers the clearing, as smooth as--

Realization hits like a blast from Kacchan's quirk.

As smooth as an ice rink.

"Here," Kacchan says, pulling a pair of bright red ice skates from the backpack Izuku wondered about earlier. "Put these on."

When Izuku takes them, he draws a second pair from the bag, black, those ones, and sits on a fallen log to put them on.

"Kacchan?" Izuku murmurs, holding the skates to his chest. "What's going on?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm gonna teach you to ice skate."

Izuku blinks repeatedly and just stares at him.

"You... why?"

"It's my fault you never learned, isn't it?" Kacchan mutters. "So, I'm correcting that."

He's done putting his skates on but Izuku still hasn't moved. Rolling his eyes, Kacchan stands and makes Izuku sit on the log he just vacated. Crouching in front of him, he pulls his shoes off and takes the skates from him, sliding them on his feet. Izuku has a flashback to years and years and years ago, when they were small, when Izuku didn't know how to tie his shoes yet--when he didn't know he didn't have a quirk--and Kacchan sometimes helped him. That was one reason out of many why Kacchan became Izuku's favorite person then.

And now...

Now...

"Kacchan," he says again, even more quietly, and waits for crimson eyes to lock with his before he swallows the lump in his throat and goes on. "Is this a date?"

There's a part of him, a teeny, tiny part of him that expects to get punched in the nose for daring to ask such a silly question.

But there's a not so tiny part of him that's filled with hope, because Kacchan has been... different, lately. And while Izuku didn't want to make too much out of it, he's wondering if maybe, just maybe...

"God, do you have to be so clueless?" Kacchan mutters; his cheeks are scarlet.

"That's not a 'no,'" Izuku points out, unable to suppress a smile.

"So?" Kacchan tries to scowl at him, but mostly he looks worried. "What are you gonna do if it is?"

Rather than answering, Izuku grabs Kacchan's collar in one hand and draws him forward even as he leans down. Their mouths meet halfway for something that's barely a kiss at all, just lips on lips, and yet when they pull back after a few seconds, they're both blushing brightly. A moment passes in silence, their eyes still locked, their lips slowly curling into smiles.

"Come on," Kacchan says as he stands. "The ice won't last all day."

He offers his hand to Izuku, palm up. Izuku takes it and holds on tight.

[shadow-sovereign]

New idea: The ants on Jeju island where too much of a risk to leave them alone. So Japan makes their move earlier (bevor Beru is born) and their plan is successful. The korean Hunters perish and the Draw Sword Guild has expanded their influence all over Korea. The possible reawakening of an E rank Hunter is just a minor incident. Jin-Woo is having a hard time trying to level up, not getting noticed by the Draw Sword Guild and helping the remaining korean Hunter Association. (dark!Jin-Woo maybe)

1/2 Ruby here and yes, the other fic idea was from me too. Sorry for not putting my name in it. To be honest, I had already forgotten about it until you mentioned it. XD In the novel Japan would have demanded an exorbitant price every time Korea needed the jap. Hunters. Like "You need our Hunters? Ok but in exchange we get island x." I think that was their plan (chapter 104). 

2/2 They would keep a close eye on any highranked or possible reawakened Hunters. If one of them becomes too strong, then the japanese would arrange an 'accident' inside of a dungeon. So Jin-Woo would have to be very careful until he is strong enough.  Maybe Jin-Ho would become the guildmaster of Yoojin Guild with Jin-Woo as vice-guildmaster, so they would have more political power. I am not sure, if a relationship between Ryuji an Jin-Woo would be possible (maybe one-sided?). 

I’m going to group the follow-up messages with the original message to make things easier.

This idea would definitely make for a dark au. In one fell swoop, all of South Korea’s S-rank Hunters would be killed, except for Go Gun-Hee who was too old to fight on Jeju island. Even just one S-rank can kill a lot of monsters inside the dungeon and prevent many of their raid teammates from being killed.

Without an S-rank going inside the high-ranking A gates, a lot of Hunters will start losing their lives. I imagine the Japanese government would wait until a lot of the Korean A-rank Hunters had died and South Korea was desperate before making their move.

They probably wouldn’t outright admit to sabotaging the Jeju island mission, but it would be pretty obvious after they ask for Jeju island in return for their help. With how much help South Korea would need, the Japanese Hunters would have to create a base of operations in their country, slowly expanding their control. They’d essentially be creating their own guilds in South Korea and perhaps taking over some of the guilds that are already there.

The S-ranks in the Draw Sword Guild would probably take turns going to South Korea to deal with the higher rank gates, as I doubt any of them want to permanently move over there. With most of the dangerous raids being supervised by one of the Japanese Hunters, they can make sure the number of Korean A-rank Hunters doesn’t get too high, by making sure some of them have ‘accidents’ inside the dungeons.

Timeline wise, let’s say that Jin-Woo was an E-rank Hunter for about three years before Japan started doing their evil shenanigans and have their claws in deep by the time Jin-Woo starts leveling up. He’s been watching all this unfold for a year, seeing more and more reports of Hunters losing their lives inside the gates. Even when the Japanese Hunters aren’t actively trying to kill Korean Hunters, they don’t particularly care about whether they get out safely either. So, some are dying to negligence rather than outright malice.

Jin-Woo finds an ironic humor in that hated nickname of ‘World’s Weakest Hunter’ becomes his greatest asset once he starts leveling up. He’s not even on the radar of the Japanese Hunters, and even if someone suspected him of reawakening, they wouldn’t expect him to go up more than a couple levels.

To keep up appearances, Jin-Woo would have to keep going into the low level gates the Korean Association sends him to. But he’d keep his mana suppressed and be on guard near higher ranking Hunters who might be able to sense him. To actually level up, the system would need to create more fake dungeons for him to fight in.

The architect can obviously see what’s going on around Jin-Woo, so it would naturally start creating more dungeons for him. And perhaps putting the entrance to them in less obvious places. The whole goal is for him to get stronger and not die, after all. It would defeat the purpose if he got caught before he could fight back.

[If I wrote this, it would be interesting to create new dungeons. A chance to be creative, especially since the system can create a wide variety of items.]

One major downside of Jin-Woo not being able to get retested and go into higher dungeons means a lack of funds. He’s still getting paid for E-rank dungeons. And while he could at least start killing more monsters in there, to get slightly more money, it would definitely chafe at him. Knowing he could be making a lot more.

But I like your suggestion of him joining the Yoojin guild. I think they could probably even meet the same way. I doubt the Japanese Hunters care if Hwang Dong-Suk and his gang of low level Hunters goes around killing other low level Hunters, as long as none of their targets are Japanese.

In canon, I believe Chairman Yoo was originally going to have an S-rank Hunter as the guild master with his oldest son as the vice-chairman. (Maybe the oldest son isn’t awakened? Considering he was eventually convinced to let Jin-Ho be the guild master, that’s the only reason I can think of to not have the oldest son be the guild master.)

Yoo Myung-Han isn’t willing to have one of the Japanese Hunters as the leader of his guild, so that leaves him looking for a Hunter he can trust. Perhaps Jin-Ho overhears a conversation or his father lets slip that the reason he isn’t making him the guild master is that he doesn’t think he has enough experience. So, Jin-Ho goes looking for raid experience, first by joining a raid, then planning to lead some of his own to prove he can do it.

Jin-Woo goes on the raid with Hwang Dong-Suk, despite it being C-rank, because he needs the money for rent and the ad for a temporary teammate says they’re just looking for someone to fill the slot. He figures he won’t have to do much fighting and he’ll try to be discrete if he does. Getting a few ‘lucky’ hits on monsters, then leaving the supposedly higher rank Hunters to finish them off.

Things go the same in canon, Jin-Woo has to kill the boss monster and Hwang Dong-Suk’s gang. The only difference is, this time there’s a really obvious reason for Jin-Woo to be keeping his power secret. Jin-Ho asks if the secrecy is so he doesn’t get targeted by the Japanese Hunters. Jin-Woo confirms it is. Then Jin-Ho reveals his plans to try and become the guild master of his father’s guild.

Jin-Woo needs the money and there’s no way he can start his own guild under current circumstances. He takes a risk by agreeing to go with Jin-Ho to talk to his father. (Though, maybe have the confrontation with Hwang Dong-Suk happen later than in canon, so that Jin-Woo is already close to being an S-rank.)

They speak with Myung-Han, who appreciates the fact that Jin-Woo saved his son’s life. He agrees to let Jin-Woo join the guild, but he’s not yet convinced of Jin-Ho being the guild master and Jin-Woo the vice master. He wants to make sure they have the experience necessary to lead first.

Myung-Han has been finding trustworthy hunters all this time, finding ones who don’t agree with what the Japanese Hunters have been doing. They’re in on the plan to make a guild that the Japanese Hunters can’t interfere with, one that could eventually start rivaling them. Which means finding strong Hunters before the Japanese Hunters can make them have ‘accidents’ in the dungeons.

He sends Jin-Ho and Jin-Woo on dungeon raids with them, to test his son’s leadership skills and Jin-Woo’s strength. On paper, Jin-Woo is there to fill in the numbers and help carry stuff. They let people assume he’s there as a charity case, someone who befriended Jin-Ho on a dangerous raid and was given a position in their guild.

When Jin-Woo unlocks his shadow powers, it feels like a game changer for them. Now, they have a chance to create an army. The more dungeons Jin-Woo goes into, the greater their army will become.

Perhaps, at some point, they’d end up contacting the Korean Hunter’s Association, letting Go Gun-Hee in on their plans. With the Association on their side, it’ll be easier to hide what they’re doing. Especially since they would eventually need to sneak Jin-Woo into some higher level gates for stronger summons. (Maybe the system could interfere and turn one of the gates into a red gate? There would be more monsters inside then.)

But eventually, it would be time to fight back. Once Jin-Woo is strong enough and has enough summons that he could take on the gates himself, no longer needing the Japanese Hunters assistance, then it would be time to kick them out of the country. Of course, they’re not going to want to leave without a fight, but once Go Gun-Hee realizes that he’s stronger than the Draw Sword Guild, he’d give him the go ahead to kick them out through any means necessary, even if it means killing them.

Taking all factors into consideration, I think he would kill them. Jin-Woo may value human life, but he’s not a saint. These people have been going around, killing the Hunters in his country. He may be even-tempered, but this would be enough to make him furious.

There would also be the draw of turning them into his Shadow Soldiers. He’d find a certain irony in it, taking the people who attacked his country and making them protect it as his summons.

In this au, the only way Jin-Woo could have a positive relationship with any of the Japanese Hunters would be after he’s made them into his summons. He would probably be quite pleased to have Ryuji kneeling in front of him, proclaiming his eternal loyalty. That might eventually lead to more after he’s had a few years to calm down and get his country back to rights.

I wonder if they’d end up in a war with Japan?

Jin-Woo would have just killed off their strongest Hunters, then went on to reclaim Jeju Island. Not sure if there’d be anybody living there yet, though. They would have needed time to clean up the place after the ants wrecked havoc and then start building. Either way, Jin-Woo would kick them out, then have some of his summons guard the place while the South Koreans start building and moving in.

Manpower wise, I don’t think Japan could afford to go to war with them after that, but they might try to turn the other countries against South Korea. However, Go Gun-Hee and the Korean Association would doubtless have been collecting evidence of Japan’s wrongdoing and share that with the world.

There would then be negative sentiments against the Japanese government, like in canon, but otherwise the other countries wouldn’t care enough to get involved. I suppose, after that, the major canon events would happen. Fighting the architect, then the other Monarchs.

Not sure about the canon ending. Obviously wouldn’t have the canon pairing since he never got a chance to know her before she died.

Spoilers for canon ending: It would make sense that Jin-Woo would want to do the time traveling thing in this au. Even before the Monarch war, so many of his people died due the Japanese Hunters. The only reason I didn’t like the time traveling in the novel is because he went back before there was magic. What’s the point of writing a fantasy novel if you’re going to make it go back to normal at the end? Yeah, Jin-Woo still had magic, but how out of place must he have felt being the only one?

The only way I could see him not doing the time traveling thing in this au is if he manages to save his dad. Jin-Woo is rather family-focused and going back in time has its risks (of the monarchs finding a way to win). If Jin-Woo’s family is safe, I don’t think he’d take the risk to time travel.

And that’s all I can think of for this au. If anyone feels inspired by it, feel free to use the ideas here. ^_^

#Solo Leveling #Sung Jin Woo #fic ideas #fic ideas submission #Ruby

[technospotatoes]

C!SAM - Redeemable Qualities Analysis (Dream SMP)

Hallo! I’m back with another brain rot post for ya’ll instead of doing my schoolwork :] 

Recently, I’ve been doing some thinking and theorizing with some friends on discord following Quackity’s huge lore stream (if you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend you watch it). I woke up this morning with a head full of many thoughts about C!Awesamdude and where his story could take us. Seeing as how there is going to be lots of change in the future with the server, there must be changes in these characters as well-- evil to good, good to evil, and the like. With these changes comes my thought: “can these characters be redeemed?” Here are my thoughts on how this applies to C!Sam.

Please let me know your thoughts and theories, I’d love to discuss with you! As always, strap in, it’s gonna be a long one :]

I hope you enjoy!

Author’s note: I want to start this off by saying that all of the contents being discussed are fictional, and are from the Dream SMP universe. I do not support the actions of these characters, but merely have interest in analyzing them through a lens of psychology and for entertainment purposes. Content of this post will contain spoilers up to 3/25/21 of the DSMP lore. I will also talk about ATLA a little bit ;)

Content warning: mentions of torture, manipulation, death, possible psychological trauma

(pls be safe ily)

What makes a redeemable character? 

  Redeemable characters are some of the most pleasing and favored characters in modern media. Their stories are rich with emotion, and they can even evoke some form of catharsis within the most skeptic consumers. Redeemable characters are memorable and inspiring, and without one, a story can feel empty. Before we apply this character trope to the Dream SMP and C!Sam, we need to answer a basic question in order to fully understand the complexity of redeemable characters and how they are so universally significant. 

What is a redeemable character?

  Simply put, a redeeming character or characteristic counteracts or corrects something negative. From a storytelling standpoint, a redeemable character is someone who has roots in good qualities, turns bad, and has the ability to revert their wrong choices to become a better person. 

Examples of redeemed characters in popular media include: 

Zuko - Avatar the Last Airbender

Boromir - Lord of the Rings

Kylo Ren - Star Wars

Severus Snape - Harry Potter 

  Zuko, for example, starts his story off as the villain. He tirelessly hunts down the protagonist, and will stop at nothing to achieve his goal to please his father. However, as the show progresses, we learn that Zuko wasn’t always bad. He was only driven to his path of villainy because of his fear of failure, of his father (the firelord and true antagonist of the show), and of a greater punishment than what he had already received. With the help of his uncle, Zuko learned to push through and accept his past, while also making amends with his wrongs and coming to the realization of who the true enemy was; ultimately choosing peace and unity over destruction and fear.    Zuko’s story is so appealing because it was drawn out. It was raw, it was real, and it was a genuine telling of how damaged people can heal, change, and come to accept themselves. Because he went through the process of redemption, he was not only able to be loved by those around him, but also by his audience-- And I believe that this can be the same case with any redeemable character. 

So how does this relate to C!Sam? How could he possibly be redeemable if he is not evil?

  C!Sam has become increasingly interesting to me in the DSMP lore, and he has shown how complex his character is-- in contrast to many first impressions that people have of him. Based upon his actions from the past, and his willingness to remain neutral in times of conflict, we can conclude that he sustains both “neutral good” and “lawful neutral/good” qualities. This means that Sam is a reliable character, driven by his own personal values, and is devoted to helping others (when he sees fit). Evidence of these qualities emerge…

When he sided with Pogtopia during the Manberg War to maintain good relations with Tommy and Tubbo. 

When he saved Hannah from the Egg

Created Sam Nook to assist Tommy in building his hotel

Built Pandora’s Vault for Dream

Showed concern for Ranboo after one of his denied prison visits

  Sam’s moral code is deeply rooted with good intentions; he keeps an eye out for his friends, maintains his relationships, assists in builds/projects, and also serves as a “stable adult figure” for some of the younger members of the server. In contrast to his logical outward appearance, C!Sam lets his emotions drive his decision making-- which can lead to many severe consequences depending on how he acts. However, recently Sam’s actions indicate that he is experiencing a flip in morals. 

Below are incidents that have led to C!Sam’s recent change in moral code. 

Incident 1: Trapped with the Egg

  Many weeks ago, during the height of character involvement with the Egg lore, C!Sam was lured into a trap by BBH and Antfrost. He spent about a day trapped in close contact with the Egg, and after he was saved by Puffy and Tommy, he was clearly changed. It is likely that the Egg is behind these sudden changes in character motivation for Sam… similarly to how it corrupted BBH, Ant, and Punz. Whether this is the case with Sam is unclear. 

Incident 2: Tommy’s death

  C!Sam and C!Tommy’s relationship within the DSMP lore is one of my favorite things to talk about. After his victory over the disk war and finally landing his nemesis in prison, Tommy was left empty, without much to do. He decided to take upon a new project to incite a new era of peace, and was able to enlist the help of Sam with building his hotel. Throughout this process (and under the watchful eye of Sam Nook), Tommy and Sam were able to develop a bond with each other through their work, along with their interactions at the Prison. 

  Sam has made it clear that he intends to defend Tommy no matter what-- but after his untimely death at the hands of C!Dream, Sam was deeply wounded. He felt as if he failed his promise to keep Tommy safe, and he made it clear that the blame for the “security issue” and C!Tommy’s death should be placed fully on him. No matter how selfless and responsible this makes his character appear, this event will only serve as the basis for severe consequences in moral change in the future. 

Incident 3: Confrontation with Quackity

  Following the large emotional impact of Tommy’s death, C!Sam is very vulnerable, because he is still within the stages of grief. C!Quackity came to Sam for a partnership, to take advantage of Sam while he was low to gain the upper hand. It’s no question that Q’s character is a talented manipulator, we can see that clearly in his interaction with Sam. Q restates again and again that Sam failed, further cementing Sam’s existing guilt and desire for revenge for his failure. Sam gives in to the manipulation, and somewhat reluctantly allows Quackity to torture Dream to get information and to get payback for what he did to Tommy... which completely goes against what his responsibility of Warden entails. 

  As Warden, C!Sam is supposed to uphold the law and rules of visitation, but because of his leniency with Quackity (in breaking the rules) and because he is still emotionally raw, he no longer defends good from evil, but is now biased against it. C!Sam probably wants Dream dead, but as Warden, his opinion shouldn’t matter. Because Sam fully blames himself for failing Tommy, he's lost the "lawful good" in his character, meaning Warden Sam (as a set of morals) truly doesn't exist anymore.

Incident 4: Ponk’s mistake

  To recap a stream briefly, Ponk did a prank on Sam a couple days ago, and stole a few of the expired keycards to Pandora’s Vault. Rightfully, Sam was very angry, and not only took back the keycards, but also imprisoned Ponk. However, where this interaction should have ended, C!Sam only took it to the extreme. (TW!!!!) Out of anger and frustration, C!Sam tortured Ponk for his wrongdoing by setting him on fire, and amputating his arm (END TW!!!). 

  This only proves my point from Incident 3. Warden Sam is fading, only bits and pieces of his morally neutral character remain within him for basic tasks. His encounter with Quackity had a huge impact on his psyche, not only is he allowing the torture of the prison occupants, but he is doing it himself as well. C!Sam is now starting to believe that pain and torture are the only solutions for punishment, which is the complete opposite of what he believed before Dream was imprisoned. 

In short...

  C!Sam is losing his grip on moral and mental stability because of his emotional insecurity due to his psychological trauma. Because of this, I believe that it is entirely possible for Sam’s character to explore the route of evil and unlawful values-- which furthers the possibility for a redemption arc. Even currently, Sam is eligible for redemption as well.

  If C!Sam is willing to acknowledge his wrongs from today and improve himself upon them, he will likely become a more memorable, lovable, and even more human character than we’ve seen in the SMP before. 

SIDENOTE!

IRL Sam recently posted in his discord talking about his character. Here are a few key things to keep in mind as the story goes forward: 

“There is a LOT of things in the plan for me as a character and a very big change is coming about for me as the story moves along.”

I believe this change could be a villain arc, or a turn towards evil that incites the possibility for redemption. 

“My character is playing a role that I think is VITAL for the server and a role that I like to think was a good one for me to pick up and accept.”

You can read the reddit post I referenced for this here (ty to my friend on discord for providing me with the link <3)

TYSM FOR READING!! <3 <3 <3

#dreamsmp #awesamdude #ponk #tommyinnit #tubbo #mcyt #captainpuffy #dsmplore #dream smp lore #dream #dream smp analysis #QUACKITY #my work

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Escape

Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.

Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut

Chapter 15

******

Silence settles over the building. Aside from the pained breaths escaping Bruce’s lips no one makes a sound.

After the stones had been set in the gauntlet, and there was a brief discrepancy over who would snap, Bruce decided to do it. Despite it being painful, he’d still managed to do it. Now you all wait for some sign of it having worked.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

It’s the faintest sound but you recognize it, birds chirping. Scott walks over to the window. 

Natasha’s hand squeezes yours when a trill ring sounds. All eyes snap to the plastic device ringing on a nearby table.

Moving like a snail, Clint inches towards his cell phone. Tears spring into his eyes immediately and he scoops it up.

“Honey? Honey?” 

A smile breaks across you face. Natasha throws herself into your arms kissing your lips repeatedly. 

“Guys! I think it worked.” Scott calls.

But the joy is short lived. For you before anyone else.

Rushing wind. You listen closer. An aircraft of some sort? It gets louder.

You panic and quickly press the Black Widow symbol on your wife’s belt, just barely watching the black nanotech cover her body.

A weight presses on to your left arm. Pain bursts through your ribs. Water drips on your forehead.

When your eyes snap open there’s nothing but darkness, minus the sparking of electricity coming from your wrist. Cursing, you tap the band and almost jump when the nanotech suddenly spreads from the bands and over your body.

The dark toned suit covers you and gives you the additional strength to un-wedge your arm from the rubble.

You roll your shoulders, adjusting to the additional armor.

Tony was right, an iron suit would come in handy.

Suddenly you remember.

“Tasha!” You exclaim into your comms.“ Natasha answer me! Is anyone with Natasha?”

Assist finally boots up and you frantically search for Natasha’s vitals through the A.I.

“Tasha, baby, please tell me you’re okay.” 

Under different circumstances you wouldn’t have wanted everyone on the comms to hear your panic and distress. But this is your wife, you don’t give a single damn who hears if it means making sure she’s okay.

Just as your blasting through another wall of rubble, you hear the static in your ear, followed by her voice.

“Y/N, I’m-” she breaks up,“ I’m okay.”

“Where are you?” You ask, eyes searching the opening you stumble into.

Assist finally displays her vitals. Her heart rate is a little high but you expect nothing less. On a whim, as you hadn’t designed it for this, you ask Assist to find vitals on the baby. 

It’s highly possible it won’t work. 

So you’re breathing a sigh of relief when Assist displays the babies heart beat. They’re still alive and until an actual check up can be made that’s enough.

“I don’t know, but I’m with Clint.” Natasha answers after a minute.

Hearing that calms you. At least a little.

Still, you won’t truly settle until you see her, until you have her in your arms.

The three of you aren’t the only ones trapped. Eventually you hear Rhodey’s distress call, he’s under here somewhere in danger of drowning. 

You move as quickly as possible, searching for wherever Rhodey is. He’s with Rocket and Bruce. As you search, you catch bits and pieces of Tony, Steve, and Thor’s voices. 

A broken statement from Thor, of killing someone, comes through and you’re filled with dread. 

Thanos. 

It has to be. But how?

Everything that’s happening confuses the hell out of you. It’s clear that Tony, Steve, and Thor are fighting Thanos. Rhodey, Rocket, and Bruce are taking on water but Scott says he’s there. You’ve yet to hear from Clint or Natasha again, sans some unidentifiable grunting. 

You know you’ve reached Rhodey’s location when you step into knee deep water. 

Not wasting a second, you go under the water. It’s easy to find Rhodey and Rocket, they’re holding their breaths but struggling to get free. Swimming over, you lift the bits of rubble that have Rhodey pinned down before grabbing him and Rocket and bringing them to the small space you’d come from.

You dive back under in search of Bruce. 

Whatever is happening above is making the rubble down here fall faster. 

Finally you reach him. Despite the suit it’s still difficult to get the large man to the surface. But you manage to.

“Tha-thank you.” Bruce speaks through water filled coughs and deep breaths.

Simply nodding, you survey your surroundings. Assist lets you know that there’s a thick layer of debris above you. Too large a shift will result in your inevitable demise. 

“Guys we’re trapped down here. There’s too much rubble above us for me to break through.” You speak into the comms.

More static hits your ears and you know you’re too far under to get the signal to anyone above.

Just as you’re about to give up, a rapidly growing Ant-Man emerges from under the water. He scoops you all into his hand and bursts through the wreckage of the compound. 

As you rise, a big blue and red metal capsule flies over. It breaks apart before forming around Rhodey’s body. A suit.

Looking down you take in the many light circled portals. Familiar faces stand outside of them, the people you’d fought beside in Wakanda five years ago. Others you’ve never met. 

Scott lowers you to the ground and you jump out of his hand. A glance to your side reveals your wife, clad in her own black iron suit, and her best friend. 

War cries sound behind you. 

“AVENGERS!”

Everyone turns to face Thanos and his large army. You quickly produce two standard pistols. 

“Assemble!”

When you fight this time it’s harder than the last. Determination to beat Thanos drives each move you make. Every time you take down one of the many aliens, you feel as if you’re getting stronger.

The first time Thanos came you were solely motivated by protecting the universe. Now though, now you fight for your family, you fight for your wife and unborn child. You fight for the future that is so close you could taste it.

A groan falls from your lips at how many of these creatures there are. Ones you remember from Wakanda and new ones as well. 

Managing to clear the enemies in your immediate area, you pause to take a breather.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired lyubov moya.”

Natasha stops beside you, the mask of her suit disappearing to reveal her face. Apart from some dirt she looks fine.

“We both know I have stamina for days baby.” You retort cockily, also revealing your face.

Before you can see the flush of her cheeks, her mask reforms. 

“You two should really learn how to read a room.” Sam’s input in your conversation makes you laugh.

A smirk clear on your face, you shrug, speaking a noncommittal sorry into the comms before resuming the fight.

The fighting seems to last hours with no clear view of who’s to win. It all shifts though when Clint asks Steve what to do with the gauntlet.

Steve is unsure at first. The original plan was to return them after the snap but the bombing destroyed the portal. Scott is quick to remind you all of his van.

Except it’s in the middle of the sea of Thanos’ army. So everyone begins to work together to get the gauntlet to the van.

It literally becomes a game of hot potato. The gauntlet is passed through multiple sets of hands. Even getting from the King’s hands to yours to Peter’s.

Faintly through the comms you hear the gruff shout of the mad titan, but you have no clue what he said. It becomes clear though when his ships start to fire relentlessly.

Being completely out in the open, you scramble to find cover. Only for your wife to appear at you side. She throws her arm up, the shield from her suit covering the top of you both.

No, you hadn’t put the shield interface in your suit. You hadn’t had the time.

The blasts do more damage to Thanos’ army than it does to your side. He’s thinned his army by an enormous amount but doesn’t let up firing. That is until it suddenly stops. 

Everyone looks on as the ships aim to the sky.

A literal ball of fire shoots through the clouds. Crashing through the biggest ship and completely disabling it.

The second you recognize it as Carol you smile wide. Not just at seeing your friend but also at the obvious shift in the battle. It finally seems as though you have a chance.

Now to get those stones to the portal.

Both you and Natasha head toward where Carol landed, arriving to see Peter Parker handing her the gauntlet. 

“I don't know how you're gonna get it through all that.” The kid states, looking from the advancing wave of enemies to Carol. 

Wanda lands right behind the space traveling woman,“ don't worry-”

“She's not alone.” Your wife finishes.

Wanda smiles over at Natasha. Every woman apart of the battle assumes a spot around Carol, readying their weapons.

“Is it just me, or do you ladies feel insanely powerful right about now?” You ask, smiling approvingly at the female power surrounding you.

Pepper chuckles and Carol agrees.

From there each of you kick as much ass as possible to clear the way for Carol.

Natasha, Valkyrie, Wanda, and Pepper handle covering the air. They take down the giant flying creatures while also shooting at enemies on the ground. 

Despite trying to stick close to Carol, you end up getting caught in an onslaught of ape like aliens and the creatures from Wakanda. 

It takes a minute but you are able to take them all out. Chest heaving, your eyes snap over the field, lingering on the battles being had, and focusing on the most important part of everything.

Carol speeds through ships and enemies toward the van. From your position you see Thanos charging at her, only to be stopped by Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey. 

He stumbles back, but doesn’t lose focus of Carol and the gauntlet. You watch as he throws his weapon toward the van and you blast it with a repulsor beam that is milliseconds from missing but hits it’s target.

The sword is knocked off course, flying in the opposite direction as Carol gets the gauntlet to the van.

Pure euphoria spreads through your chest as she hands the gauntlet off to Scott before he and Hope vanish into the quantum realm.

Thanos rages, concentration switching from you to Carol, essentially locking on to you, the reason he’s failed.

“Uh, angry titan, angry titan!” You exclaim into the comms, shooting a repulsor beam at the giant, pistols forgotten all together.

It knocks him back, but only a little. You look around for a possible plan of action, only to stop short when the problem is resolved.

A lightening covered axe sails towards you, cleanly slicing through the neck of the titan, stopping inches from your form, and then returning to the hands of the god.

Beheaded, the titan’s body falls to the ground. The so called children of Thanos have long since been dealt with, leaving the few seemingly mindless creatures behind. But they’re quickly being dealt with.

Still you hold your breath, eyes falling to the ugly brown van stuck in rubble.

The quantum tunnel still pulses with light and you watch it closely. Only to mentally fist pump when Scott and Hope reappear in front of it, empty gauntlet in hand.

With the mad titan dealt with and the stones returned, the threat to the universe vanishes. Everyone deals with the remaining aliens until the field is littered with their bodies and rubble from destroyed ships.

Yet you don’t breathe easy. Instead you look all over the field, panning over superheroes and warriors, familiar faces meet your eyes but not the one your looking for.

Next you search the ground. Maybe she’s just unconscious or underneath a bit of rubble. But nothing.

Dread floods your system, thoughts whip through your head as you process that she’s nowhere to be seen. She can’t possibly be gone. You’d done everything you could to ensure you didn’t lose her.

What could’ve possibly gotten through the suit? How had you managed to screw that up?

Tony and Pepper, in each other’s embrace, look over to you. Their concerned gazes grabs Steve’s attention who looks at you as well. The lack of your wife’s presence beside you has them searching the field as well.

Your vision starts to blur, panic blinding you to whatever they start to say.

You quite literally start to crumble in on yourself, until you feel the soft hands on each side of your face, a familiar warmth accompanying them, but you struggle to focus on her.

“Breathe lyubov moya.” Her sultry voice slips into your ears and soothes your mind.

She strokes your cheeks with her thumbs, coaxing you into security.

With her whisper of “I’m okay” you’re finally breathing properly. Blinking back unshed tears, you pull her into your embrace. Your suits clink together but you couldn’t care less.

Instinct has her face resting in the crook of your neck, warm breath fighting the sudden chilly wind. You kiss her neck, just above the retracted metal of her iron suit.

You remain in her embrace for a moment longer, needing the assurance and grounding. After pulling away, you can’t help but smile at the sight of everyone that you’d watched disappear five years ago, plus the additional faces of the people you’d yet to meet.

A nonverbal agreement is made to reconvene to celebrate at a later time, when things have settled, and you all aren’t standing in a crater moments from flooding.

Hand in hand with Natasha, you exit the hole in the ground. 

“Please tell me you’re taking me home.” 

Getting a good look at your wife, you see the adrenaline slipping away and revealing her exhaustion. She’s still incredibly gorgeous behind the thing layer of dirt on her face and minor cuts.

How she managed to get cuts on her face through the mask is unbeknownst to you, but you’re determined to make sure she’s taken care of.

“Hospital first, home second.”

She gives a tired sigh, but agrees nonetheless.

Knowing they may not have anywhere to go, you offer the keys to your lake house to Steve, telling him that they are free to use the place to get clean and rest up.

You don’t leave with Natasha until after she’s said a couple ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s.

******

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[100layersofdaddyissues]

Angel - Chapter 3

ITS HERE ITS FINALLY HERE IM SO SORRY. UGH THAT TOOK SO LONG.

but there it is chapter three. I literally wrote most of this chapter while i was in the lobbies of among us games. 

Warnings: Smut, swearing nothing too bad this chapter. 

words: 4.2K!!!!!!!

As the sun rose on the city, your alarm decided to screech its ugly voice across the whole apartment. Why you had decided that waking up at 5am, when you didn’t start work at your new job in Lord Industries at 9am, was absolutely beyond you. You chalked it up to nerves. I mean sure, you were fucking the owner and CEO but that doesn’t mean you’re going to become complacent about this position. Not only were you working in the largest company in most of the country, but you were also Head Marketing for your city’s division. 

           You started your day as you would any other workday, groaning and convincing yourself that leaving bed was worth it. After that, it was coffee and shower time, and if you were lucky you could throw in a cigarette on the balcony, and since you didn’t need to leave for another 4 and a half hours you thought you might just test your luck with multiple. 

Halfway through your shower you heard the phone ringing, you trudged out to the phone wondering who in god’s name was calling at 4:23am. To your great (and welcomed) surprise, it was Darius. “My dearest I’ve been told to inform you that I will be picking you up today, I’ll be at your door by 7:30. So, be ready.” 7:30? That was a whole hour before you were planning on leaving the comfort and security of your new home. 

           “Darius, I didn’t think we started until 9am why are you picking me up so early?” you queried. 

“Well, it seems Maxwell doesn’t want you catching a cab but also did not offer for me to take you both so obviously this means that I will be picking you up first and making me work extra hard.” 

           Oh. he doesn’t want to ride with you to work. You considered that it was perhaps because he didn’t want to incite rumors, but you found it strange, but nonetheless you told Darius that this would be fine and that you would see him at 7:30. An hour early. 

Only you didn’t see Darius at 7:30, in fact you didn’t even see him at 8, it wasn’t until 8:15 hit that you heard any word from him. “Darius I was just about to call a cab you never came? Is everything okay?” 

“Well, it seems Mr. Lord has contracted an illness, called a hangover. I picked him up at 6:30 to get McDonalds. I’ve already dropped him at work, I suspect he’s napping in his office as we speak.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Max laying on the floor of his office completely passed out. “I’ll be down in a moment, just let me pick out my shoes.” you said back to him, “ahh so I’ll see you by sundown.” Darius quipped back in a lighthearted way. If things ever went belly up with Max, you really hoped you could keep Darius around. 

The ride to the building was filled with the banter you’d become accustomed to with Darius, until you were pulling up to a big silver building, the largest in the city, obviously. You were in absolute shock and awe when you stepped out of the car, you’d thought for a moment in time, ‘woah, this is what ants feel like.’

“Hello ma’am could I see your ID and security badge please?” were the first words you heard when you walked through the doors to the lobby, you stammered over your sentences confused, you didn’t have a security badge, you didn’t realise you’d need one, Maxwell had never mentioned it. “Thank you, Keith, that won’t be necessary, Miss Y/N here is our new head of marketing, I’ve been tasked by Maxwell to escort her to his office.” Darius said coming up behind you. You hadn’t even realised that he had left the car, but here he was escorting you up the escalators. “Ahh yes, I see, of course.” the security guard, Keith, said with a sly smile and a wink. You knew what that meant, and it churned your stomach to think about. How many times had Max given his one-night stands jobs? If he was willing to do it for you, he was willing to do it for others. 

Unfortunately, your question was answered the moment you reached the top floor where Maxwell’s office sat. he had 4, beautiful, well-shaped, pardon your French but devilishly fucking sexy assistants. Why he would need more than one exceptional looking assistant was a question that in itself was the answer. 

“You can’t go in there, Mr. Lord doesn’t like visitors in the morning, he’s especially not looking for new, meat.” one of them all but sneered at you. “Holly if you would quit blabbering, I think I’d like to escort your new head of marketing to your boss if you don’t mind. Will that be okay with you?” Darius was on a roll today in saving you from situations with people. 

As you walked into his office, Maxwell was, surprisingly, upright, on a phone call, drinking coffee and looking all but exasperated. He opened his eyes for only a minute to point at you and then the chair in front of you, and at this Darius left the room and you had no savior from this situation because Maxwell, well, he looked mad. You were worried you’d already done something to upset you and that’s just what you needed right now. An angry man who housing you and providing you job security and most importantly, orgasm security. 

For almost 10 minutes you sat in that chair waiting for Maxwell to be off the phone, never looking up, as to avoid eye contact. When he finally hung up the phone Maxwell stood up, came around the desk and sighed heavily saying, “god I’m glad you’re here,” before all but smashing his lips to yours. Okay. not upset. That’s good, that’s easy to deal with. “I’ve only been here an hour and already I’m just ready to go to your apartment and fuck all my frustration out.” well you weren’t expecting that per se but it’s a welcome surprised. 

“Well, stop me if this is too unprofessional, but you have a perfectly good table to bend me over.” you said, looking up at him through your lashes, trying to look innocent. 

“God you’re incredible woman.” he said pulling you out of your chair and oh would you look at that, bending you over his desk. 

“I really hope you didn’t buy any pants in that shopping haul of yours because having access to your pretty pussy at work is going to work so well for both of us, he said hiking your skirt up just enough so he could pull down your panties, he bent over you until his mouth was hovering at your ear, “you’re going to need to be quiet angel, don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about you now do we?” and before even finishing his sentence his thrust his cock straight into you. It took everything in you to not cry out, but you bit the back of your hand to keep yourself quiet. 

“God it’s only been two days and I missed this pussy, how have I fucked you so hard so often and you’re still this tight? You’re fucking magical, aren’t you? You and your magical cunt are going to kill me, you know that? If I could stop sleeping to have more time to fuck this pussy I would if I could starve myself from food and only eat you dear god I would. So, fucking good.” 

“I thought you said we had to be quiet?” you said to him, with a small smirk on your face that quickly vanished as he spanked your ass a few times, then started thrusting into you with such force you thought you might slip open, he pulled you hair to bring you up against his chest, “that shut you up, didn’t it, you fucking brat,” he said replacing your hair in his hand for your throat. 

Within minutes he was Cumming right into you, he must have realized you hadn’t come yet, only stopping for a split second to pull out, spin you around and replace his cock with his fingers, pushing his cum, back into your cunt, finger fucking you until you were once again about to bite into your hand, when Max switched hands and shoved his cum coated fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. As you cum around his hand and screamed around the other one, Max could only look at you with lust blown pupils. 

“Well, I think this is the best first day I’ve ever had.” you said to him, completely breathless. 

“It’s about to get better angel, let me show you to your office.” 

He was right, your office did make it better. It was a big, beautiful space, with high ceilings, timber floors and a view to die for, you truly didn’t know how you got so lucky just from a random hookup, but you weren’t but to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Max this is absolutely beautiful, did the head of marketing get this office too?” you asked in wonderment. 

Well, actually no, this was my office, but I’ve taken over my father’s office, I think it’s about time I moved into it and you gave the motivation to do so.” his smile was small, but it was sincere, you think that might have been the first sincere smile you’d seen from Max. 

“I’ll let you get acquainted with your new space if you have any questions, my extension is 0204 okay? If any of my assistants give you any grief, just tell them that their bonuses are on the line they’ll smart right up. I promise.” Maxwell gave me a wink and then shut the door. You walked around the room, gingerly touching the walls, the painting, slowly sliding your hand across your desk, you felt a sense of pride wash over you as you sat at your desk, you weren’t really sure what to do first, you searched around your desk for notes, maybe the previous person in your position left. 

Just as you thought you’d found them, your door swung open, a woman with burgundy hair and a bright pink skirt suit walked through the door. 

“Hello sweetheart, I’m here to help you out, I’m your assistant and Mr. Lord told me that you’d be starting today I figured that he wouldn’t have told you anything, so I thought I’d come give you the rundown, I was the last guys assistant too.” she was really perky, very upbeat for 9:13 in the morning. “Oh, you probably think I’m so rude, my name is Sookie, Sookie Amelia Jersey, it’s nice to meet you?” he hadn’t even told anyone your name yet? Okay feeling less special now. 

“y/n my name is y/n y/l/n but just call me y/n, thank you so much I really have no idea what I have to be doing.” you said trying not to sound like you weren’t supposed to be there or that you didn’t know what you were doing. Which you didn’t. But she didn’t need to know that. 

“Well then let’s get right to it.” and with that, you and Sookie started talking business. 

 It seemed like the time was going so slow, that was until the door swung open once again, only this time Darius stood at the door, coffees, and an ominous brown bag. “I knew you wouldn’t have eaten, so I’ve brought sustenance, oh hello Miss Jersey.” Darius really just knew everyone, maybe he’s a wizard. 

“Darius you are absolute life saver, I think you might be the love of my life.” you said with utter certainty that Sookie now probably thinks there’s something going on between you guys. Ahh if only she knew. 

“And you are mine, dear, but before we begin planning the wedding might I suggest food?” he places the coffee down on the table and what you can now see are croissants. Hmm, 4 coffees, 4 croissants. And as if on cue Darius mutters that he’ll be back as he needs to deliver Max his lunch. 

“I didn’t realise you were already in with Darius. That man took me four years to crack, another two for him to start bringing me food, and here you are on your first day on a first name basis? Who did you fuck to get that treatment?” oh god had she caught on? Does this happen a lot? Does Max give jobs to everyone he fucks? Your mind is running a million miles an hour when you sheepishly laugh and tell some lie about how Darius was an old friend. She seemed to buy it as she moved on to talking more about marketing and what you’ll need to do. 

Soon it was the end of the day and Darius was back at your door telling you to meet him at the car. You said goodbye to Sookie and apologized for stopping her from working. 

You left the building and walked to the car seeing Maxwell in the back of the car. Oh. so now he’s good enough to go home with you but not to come to work with you. You see how it is. 

           You greeted him as you entered the car only for him to point at the phone, you looked at Darius in the rear-view mirror and you both shared a look between you that said, “here we go.” 

           Maxwell was on the phone the entire ride back to your apartment, only removing the receiver from his ear to say, “wear something classy I’ll be back at 7.” 

           What? 

           Its Maxwell Lord, you decided it would be safer for you to heed his warning and just wait to find out what happens. Maybe he just wanted to fuck someone high class tonight. 

            As it neared closer to 7 you kept meticulously checking your hair and makeup, making sure there was nothing on the red gown you’d chosen to wear. You really hoped you would figure out what was going on first, so you didn’t need have anxiety waiting to find out. 

           Just before you could contemplate jumping off the fire escape there was a sharp knock at the door, and a very sharply dressed Maxwell. 

           “Hello angel, I’m here to escort you to your first lord industries gala. You look incredible and I am definitely going to ravish you later, but we really should be going.” he all but pulled your arm out of its socket as he led you out of your door towards the elevator 

           “I don’t mean to sound clueless, but what gala? I haven’t been told about a gala?” you said to him, sounding slightly timid. 

           “Oh? Did I not tell you? We’re having a gala to celebrate the surplus budget this quarter and has my new head of management I thought it only proper to escort you there myself. Plus, there will be some CEOs from rival companies there, I do love to gloat to my competitors.” there was a new air around Max, he looked more pristine and confident. Tonight, was going to be intense you could already feel it. Even on the drive over he was, happier? Maybe he really did just get a kick out of showing off. You understood that. You couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t excite you to be walking in on Maxwell’s arm. To have all eyes staring at you wondering who you were and what you were doing with him. 

           As you arrived at the gala there was a slew of cameras lining a beautiful gold carpet. “We always go with gold because red is overdone, and Lord Industries is revolutionary. Were made of gold baby.” well that explained it. Not that you were questioning it, he did seem like the type to break the mould when it comes to luxury. I mean he was housing you just for the luxury of having convenient sex. It just seemed to fit Max really.

           Exiting the car, the barrage of flashes and yelling hit you like a wall, it was a wonder you didn’t freeze up under the pressure, but you walked next to Max with all the poise and confidence you could muster. The photographers were yelling questions at Max, not at you, but they were all asking about you, you kept your head forward and so did Maxwell. He didn’t say anything while walking past them and up the stairs, his expression only changed after entering the building. He turned to you and praised your level of composure before leading you up to two large doors. On the other side you could hear music and chatter, you wondered why you weren’t entering until you heard an announcer say “Folks, I’m sure were all having an absolute stellar time, but I’d like to draw your attention to the man of the hour, Mr. Maxwell Lord.” his voice rang out over large speakers as the doors opened and Maxwell lead you into the ballroom to polite applause. 

           You were stunned at how many people there were standing in the ballroom, you stood there feeling quite awkward at the stares that were being passed your way and the slight glares coming from some of the women, (and a few men) in the room. 

           “My friends and guests, thank you all so much for coming tonight and while I can appreciate that you would all like to go back to drinking my champagne id first like to introduce someone to you, your new head of marketing for Lord Industries, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. I’m sure she’ll fit right in with us and help us continue to be the frontier for this country.” Max had an excellent public speaking voice; he commanded the room, and you couldn’t lie. You got kind of wet seeing him so, for lack of a better word, bossy. 

           Max leaned in and whispered to you, “go mingle, if you need anything Darius will be floating around.” and then he was gone leaving you to your devices. 

           Thankfully, Sookie found you almost immediately, “I just knew he’d leave you floundering the moment you got here, he’s probably already in the bathrooms giving one of his assistants a ‘bonus’ doesn’t worry sweetheart I’ve got you covered ill introduce you to the actual important people.” and so she did. Within the hour you’d met the head of sales, Mary, head of finance, Samuel, and their assistants, Lorelai, and June. she showed you (but absolutely did not introduce you to) the head of Human Resources, Marcus, who was (in her words) a total douchebag, the head of purchasing, Manny, who apparently would want to corrupt you, you didn’t want to ask what that meant but you had some idea and wanted to laugh because if only Sookie knew. By the time you’d met Jenny, lady who ran the coffee shop in the lobby, Darius had found you both and you sighed a breath of relief, you loved Sookie, but you still weren’t too familiar with her. 

           “My dear you look exquisite I told you that you would look amazing in that dress.” Darius said with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him wear. “You’re drunk aren’t you Darius.” you laughed at him; he was wobbling a bit. 

           “Y/N I am offended that you think I would drink at a work function. But yes, I am absolutely sloshed. Galas are the only nights I can get so drunk I can’t walk, and Maxwell doesn’t fire me, he says it’s good for me to let go, I have no idea what he’s talking about. I am very relaxed all the time, who wouldn’t be working for the prince of darkness. Oh god he’s not behind me, is he?” 

           “Darius you’re rambling, he’s not behind you, I haven’t seen you since he left me at the start.” you said trying to get him to stop talking so rapidly.” 

           “Well, my dear he has seen you; he’s been staring at you since Sookie found you.” Darius’ head vaguely pointed to the wall behind him, you stole a glance and sure enough there was Maxwell, talking to someone but not paying attention to them, he was staring right into your soul, it wasn’t a glare or even angry in anyway, but it was intense, like he was trying to read your mind. Somehow you believed he actually might be able to. You gave him a small smile and he nodded his head in your direction. You looked back at Darius, “he’s probably just making sure I don’t embarrass him.” you said trying to write off the fact that he was staring. Trying to convince him it meant nothing. Or yourself that it meant nothing and that there definitely was not butterflies in your stomach. 

           An hour passed as you and Sookie milled around the room, you lost Darius at champagne number three, with him and Sookie both calling you a prude for not drinking, and you telling them every time that you hated champagne and would much prefer tequila. 

           Suddenly a hand tapped you on the shoulder, you spun around expecting Max, or Darius or literally anyone else. But not henry. Not your ex-boss Henry Giorgio. “Y/N it’s so good to see you! I was quite surprised to hear that you had left us, but I can see why, head of marketing and you get to fuck the boss? What a steal!” your eyes widened from shock not just at seeing him but hearing what he said, you grabbed his arm and dragged him towards a wall telling Sookie that you’d be back right away. “What do you mean fucking the boss? I am not sleeping with Mr. Lord and I will not have you come here and try to embarrass me just because I wouldn’t sleep with you.” your voice was low but harsh as you spoke you him. 

           “Oh, please darling, this is Maxwell, every time a new woman under 30 starts at his company everyone knows that it because he’s sleeping with her, but you got head of marketing, you must have really shown him a good time, I mean everyone else just gets assistant jobs, but you, well that must have been a good blowjob.” he was snarky and rude, and you felt like you were going to cry. 

           “Oh, don’t tell me I’ve hurt your feelings, what did you think was going to happen? Maxwell was going to fall for you. Darling I wouldn’t even waste your breath on that idea, that man has never felt love, his fiancée went missing for god sakes and he came home and went to work the very next week. He doesn’t care about you. You could die and he wouldn’t notice.” 

You suspected that Maxwell only hired you because he could fuck you but hearing someone else say it mad tears begin to sting your eyes. You didn’t think you wanted Maxwell to fall for you until that very moment in time. Before you could say anything or think too hard on the subject, you felt someone come up behind you, it was Maxwell, and if you could have tensed up even more. 

           “Is there a problem here Mr. Giorgio, I should hope you’re not trying to steal back our new member of the team.” Maxwell also sounded tense, but you knew better than to think it was because you’d been upset and not because Henry was his rival. 

           “No not at all Maxwell, just giving her my good wishes, is all.” Henry’s voice was dripping in the smug tone you’d heard so many times working for Halo. 

           “Well then if you’re done, I’d like to steal Miss Y/L/N back if you don’t mind.” Henry merely waved Maxwell off but by then you didn’t want to be there anymore, your head was swirling, and you could only feel pity for yourself, you broke away from Maxwell to go find Sookie. 

           “I need to go home, please I want to go home, now.” you were trying so hard not to cry, tears stinging and threatening to spill over as Sookie led you out of the ballroom, and as you passed Darius, him quickly catching on and following. You didn’t see the confused and hurt look on Maxwell’s face.

           After you finally exited, you noticed the cameras had left, and you broke down in Darius’ arms as Sookie called her husband, Jackson, to come pick you all up. Darius gave Jackson the directions to your house, and when Sookie and Darius offered to join you, and take care of you inside you brushed them off giving them a lame apology about going to bed early and that you would see them tomorrow at work.

           As you showered and climbed into bed, you were mad at yourself for getting so hurt, this was just a business arrangement. You weren’t special. And you shouldn’t see Maxwell as special either. But you did. 

           And it sucked.

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[laviedavantgarde]

Tell us about Julien 👀

I could talk about Julien all night long. I could write a whole damn thesis and dissertation on him.

He was only originally intended to be a random guest character to appear in one scene of my entire fanfic, but my fanfic's main plot is centered around him from the eyes of Trevor.

His biography (in the context of Grand Theft Immortal, my fanfic):

He was born to a French Canadian mother and an American father. His mother died as an infant, and his father shortly relocated back to the US and remarried his American step-mother. The audience knows from Trevor's perspective that he has living maternal grandparents in Québec (fictionalized as Nouveau Souvenirs- lit. translation "New Memory"). Julien denounced his father and stepmother (and half brother) because of their rejection of him being trans. His grandparents, however, love him for him. Part of his ongoing trauma is not forming close bonds, in part due to his unsupportive parents, and in part due to moving around a lot growing up, and having to grow up fast.

One time playing GTA Online, while in a heist, someone asked if I were from a native French speaking country because of my username "avantgardegeek." I told them no, I'm an American. I love avant garde ideas and movements throughout history, and I love the word. I'm also a big fucking nerd. Sorry to everyone who assumes I'm French, Québecois, or another Francophone nationality/group. I'm just an American. That moment in time really solidified Julien's character in terms of family relations and was a major inspiration in formulating his character, and thus his dual citizenship to the US and Canada. However, he hardly knows French, but is working on it via his grandparents. (Little spoiler alert!)

Julien holds a Ph.D. in Anglophone North American Literature from ULSA. Thus he is DR. Julien Hyde and will let you know too, mainly because he has a passion for higher education and academe. (And he can be a wee bit pompous and full of himself too, but is trying to work on that.)

Julien and Criminality: He had an affiliation to a transnational vigilante organization in which members were to eradicate or make invisible the horrors of society that plagues them. He was known to gather intel to his affiliation to assist in pinpointing whom to harass and/or kill because the "authorities" refused to look into the situation or people clearly. Is someone from a social movement oppressing others that doesn't fit the organization's core values of equity? Kill them and hide the trail. Julien is known as "Scriptor Mortis" - "Writer of Death." (Another spoiler!) His devotion to research led by his intelligence aids to his criminal deeds makes him one of the masterminds behind assault and murder. He hasn't done the physical deed of murder, but has plenty of white collar crimes under his belt.

Julien and Weaponry: In melee, he uses a dagger because he's a fucking theatre gay. In moments where he can, he will use non lethal force in person (i.e. tranquilizers and sedatives). In an absolute life or death situation, he uses a combat gun. He does have an affinity for arson, and would love to use grenade launchers and RPGs. When he is in control of a person's fate, he wants to cause the least harm, if there is not an indication of the attacker wanting to lethally harm Julien. However, Julien has no issue of wishing or signing death warrants, as he won't see the person. He wants to rid oppressing, bigoted people. Only his activism in the academy goes so far: he goes to the extreme in vigilante justice.

Julien struggles with depression, anxiety, and some PTSD. He can't just admit to his academic pals that he's a vigilante criminal. In my fanfic, he is entangled in a nasty game of deadly cat and mouse where Julien is the mouse and must try to outwit the cat. This is where he gets help in upping his ante as a criminal from The Unholy Fucking Trinity and Lamar. As someone who wants to be the brawn of operations, Julien is a wee bit bloodthirsty and wants to let himself go unhinged and give in to his more spontaneous desires, as he had to follow a strict life plan and career path for so long.

We will see Julien and his psyche unfold in subsequent chapters of Grand Theft Immortal, and I hope this little almost 1,000 word essay helps summarize Dr. Julien Hyde, the heretic homosexual with an affinity for justice served bloody.

Also, I reblog posts that are fitting for Julien, so always look for my tags to see what more I add to him!

Thank you for asking me about Julien!!!

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