#like for example i can't wait for people to come over because what if someone gets cold and i can offer them blanket wizard to wear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

setsugekka · 10 months

Text

❥business attire (m)

↳ You have no qualms with doing what it takes to get ahead professionally: a white lie here, a bit of cheating there—sleeping with your boss? Simple.

Until a business trip with a rival colleague puts quite a wrench into all of that.

bang chan x fem!reader — colleagues/rivals to lovers, romcom, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [12k wc] cws: alcohol drinking, themes of sexism in the work place!!, penetrative sex, body cum shot, oral sex (m+f), dirty talking (very mild condescension/humiliation), teasing, chan has a big dick of course because i wrote this.

Everything has led up to this moment.

Years of studying, internships, exams; grueling schedules and lost hours of sleep, not even accounting for the people stepped over and lost along the way. You had made the decision long ago that you were willing to do whatever it would take to make it to the top, to achieve the kind of success that you knew was waiting for you somewhere out and into the future.

You're no stranger to the CEO's office, all shining and glittering gold with accents and glossed, white marble, though you do have to admit, you're not used to being here with a third, as far as company is concerned.

No, typically you find yourself here in the later hours of the evening, partaking in a particular set of extra curricular activities that you know will bargain your way up the professional ladder. Ethical? Questionable. Do you care? Not even a little bit.

Granted, you can't imagine the other guy—Chris—to feel similarly about your leg-up on him, as it were.

Your colleague in question stands beside you with hands behind his back like he's a child waiting to hear his grades called out by the teacher. It's a little charming, you've got to admit, though nothing if not sad given the fact that he's awaiting something that was never really going to be offered to him to begin with.

And you don't know anything about this guy because you don't tend to bother learning much of anything about the people surrounding you in your workplace, outside of the smallest inkling of weaknesses that can be used to your advantage. Susan in accounting, for example, one to have something of an issue with getting to work on time in the mornings; no problem, the time clocks can be easily forged to make up for the discrepancy.

Except, of course, for the fact that it's against company policy to do so, and an offense that can find one terminated in an instant—it certainly was a shame the evening that the CEO had come to find out about that, after a bottle of wine and a particularly enthusiastic blowjob from you.

But Chris keeps to himself, and if not for this meeting here, you'd not even know his name. He works on business contact profiles not unlike yourself, which makes him someone that sits directly in your crosshair. You glance over his features for a brief second—his high nose bridge and his full lips, and acknowledge that he's sort of handsome for someone that you have to destroy the will of today. Well, it's not you destroying it, though you've more than put in the work to ensure it to happen.

The CEO of the company brings his attention up from the paper work laid out in front of him and finally grants it to the both of you. Your eyes meet with his in an instant and you try to bite back the knowing grin of victory that threatens to pull at the corners of your lips. Be mature about this, you think to yourself. Humility not a strong suit of yours, sure, but no need to rub it all into the wound.

"There's a massive account that needs an exquisite set of eyes and ears on it this coming weekend, this kind of business trip is the type that makes or breaks a company, a supervisor of the company." The man pauses, eyes falling back down to the papers as he shuffles them about lightly across the desk. "So, you understand that the utmost sensitivity and attention to detail is necessary when deciding who it is to send out on these sorts of things, but in the event of a net gain, then it's easy to understand that the trickle down effect is one that can be felt by everyone involved."

You smile, this time unable to hold it back.

He continues. "The success of this means the immediate success of the supervisor involved."

Then, he looks up to the both of you.

"Which is why I have decided to send the both of you out, and based on the return, I will make a decision in relation to who will be the benefactor."

Your eyes widen, smile falling, and in the moment you find yourself incapable of holding your feelings of unjust back.

"What? What do you mean you're sending both of us? What benefit could me or the company see in having this guy tag along?"

"Hey?" Chris cuts in, a little wounded. You ignore him for the most part.

"Chris does good work, has proven himself on numerous occasions. I think the two of you will work just fine together, and if that's not the case, then consider it a friendly workplace competition to get the fires really burning for results."

Jaw clenched and teeth gritted tightly, you take a step towards the man happily seated in his position of taking, and dare to point a finger out towards him.

"I've earned this."

But to that, a knowing, shit-eating grin pulls at a single corner of his mouth. An understanding of this, of the anger you're feeling and where it's coming from and how absolutely fruitless it will be.

"Have you?" he questions lightly, a disgusting chime in his tone that makes your stomach turn. His eyes drop back down to the desk, not bothering to even look at you for the following question. "And how is it that you've done that, exactly?"

Freezing in place, even just the question mortifies you. Chris' being there feels far too illuminating now in comparison to the emptiness that he carried before, and you know that this man knows that you are incapable of answering that as diligently as you may like to.

But still, the both of you know.

You close your eyes slowly, exhale steadily and try to center yourself into something more professional once more. "I've worked incredibly hard for this kind of opportunity, sir."

"And so has Chan! Sorry, I mean Chris. I'm afraid we spend so much time together leisurely that I often forget to address you properly in a professional setting nowadays!"

What's worse than the initial blow of this knowledge dawning upon you is the way that the man beside you laughs, like it's the funniest thing in the world that you're being made a fool of in front of these men. Granted, he doesn't know—does he know?—regardless, the humiliation toiling in your gut twists unrelentingly whether your colleague is privy or not.

You don't get a chance to respond before the man who has wronged you continues on with the thought, however.

"You are still getting the opportunity, it's just that you're sharing it with someone else. If your work continues to shine above and beyond your peers, then you have nothing to worry about, now do you?"

It takes everything you have inside of you not to snarl out a reply. "Yes, sir. I'll see to it getting done."

"Excellent news! You and Chan are set to leave tomorrow, a red-eye to Los Angeles for three days. I trust that the two of you can have it settled in that time?"

"Yes, sir," the both of you reply in unison, and even just that twists like a dagger in your back.

The airport terminal is busy, too much, for your liking.

There are perks to being in such places, though, and you choose to revel in those small things. No one is interested in you or what you're doing. No one around you cares about your immaculately pressed garment or the fact that your luggage is slightly scuffed. They pay you no mind as you look up from your phone and towards the screen sitting atop the gate entrance as you await your boarding signal.

"Hey."

You sigh aloud at the simple word, easily recognizing the voice that carries it through the crowds. Glancing to your other side, your colleague stands with phone and luggage in hand; a suit jacket just ill-fitting enough that it perturbs you that much more.

So, you don't reply. Chris sits next to you and settles his belongings in such a haphazard way that it grates on your nerves—much like everything that he seems to do, does—and you silently await for him to make his presence unknown to you for what you hope to be the rest of the near week that the two of you are forced to spend together.

Not so lucky, however.

"I think it's going to be good that we're working on this together," he says cheerfully. Annoyingly. "By the way, you can call me Chan. Chris is so formal and professional."

"Well, Chris, we are workplace colleagues, so it only makes sense that we remain professional," you respond.

He leans in towards you, "Our work place isn't that professional, I'm sure you've noticed."

You don't like the sound of that, though it could very well be more of your hurt feelings and humiliation taking the driver's seat. Thus, you temper the anger that threatens to burst out at what you think could be certain implications and simply meet his eyes with a glare.

"So I have."

Chris, Chan, whatever—leans back in his seat, crosses his arms over his chest before continuing on with the thought that you don't care to hear more of but know you're going to be prisoned with, regardless.

"I think we can learn a lot from one another during this."

"And what is it that I can learn from you that I've not yet gathered from years of study, internships, and work in the field? Do you think it's an accident that I've landed myself so far up the corporate ladder?"

His head cocks to the side, and for a moment, you think it to be daringly condescending.

"No, but it's no accident that I've landed myself here, either."

You roll your eyes and focus down on the phone in hand.

"The truth of the matter is that in a lot of cases, the best way to get ahead is to take everyone else down around you," he carries on, voice dropping down to something more akin to a whisper. "Playing nice only gets you so far."

The snort of a laugh that escapes you is so quick you don't have a chance in fighting it back.

"If you think you're going to be conniving enough to wrestle this out of my hands, then I'm afraid you've been paired up against the wrong adversary," you reply. "Better, stronger, smarter men than you have tried, and failed."

Chan's eyebrows perk at that, like he's amused by the comeback. There's a part of you that appreciates the fact that he doesn't immediately wither in the shadow of your toughness, though you're far from desiring a fight for this trip as it carries on, either. Withering, in some cases, might be best.

"You don't know anything about me, yet you're so willing to assume I'm unworthy of the challenge of taking you on. Unfortunately for you, I love a good, friendly competition."

To that, you huff out yet another mildly amused laugh.

"It will be anything but friendly."

The flight to Los Angeles gives you plenty of time to conjure up a game plan, not that you think you're going to need anything all that involved to conquer your adversary.

Chan enjoys the in-flight entertainment alongside of you as you do—laughs along to the film that he's watching and orders himself a drink to truly settle in. You do neither. Instead, you crack open your laptop and mull over the numerous documents and spreadsheets of information that you'll want to know like the back of your hand by the time that you land.

As well as how best to handle him.

Thankfully, your colleague seems whimsically dim despite your earlier conversation in the airport. He talks a big game as far as a competition and winning is to be concerned, but you rack your brain trying to recall a time in which his name has ever come up at work previously; no accolades, no parties thrown, no cheers for a job well done. In fact, the majority of those moments have been granted to you, and incredibly hard-earned, at that.

But, you have to give it to him: he doesn't appear frightened by you. Chalk that up to naivete, sexism, or stupidity—you couldn't care less which pin it is that he lands on, because either way, the outcome will be the same.

So sure of himself, and yet nothing to show for it besides a bizarrely personal relationship with the CEO. Well, you have that, too.

With the way that things have played out, you want to call things off, however. This man back at the office has humiliated you and taken from you but not held up his end of the bargain. Is it worth it to continue carrying on? Will it harm your career if you don't? Probably best to maintain the status quo as far as sexual endeavors go. Besides, the sex isn't half bad, either.

When you and Chan land in Los Angeles it's far too early for your liking and with how little sleep you are now on, but the thrum of the bustling, awaiting city excites you. This opportunity is going to be everything—is going to grant you everything—and in all likelihood, you wouldn't be able to sleep if you were to try.

Chan attempts to take your bags from you once you're both walking the busy halls of LAX and you fight him off with every try. He smiles and laughs and rolls his eyes at your unwillingness to cooperate, but this is no comical matter to you. Little does he know how close to danger he sits at every passing moment.

One taxi down and making your way to the hotel, Chan rushes his way out of the car and around to the back so that you have no hope in fighting him this time. He is so insufferable, you think to yourself, though you can't deny yourself the joy of having him hauling your luggage about. Good, perhaps you will be useful to me, after all.

The hotel is a lavish one; all white marble, silver accenting and lush green foliage at every turn. You're thankful for that much, because in so many ways there is nowhere else that you wish to be less than here.

You spot a bar down the corridor just a bit and make a mental note of it, as you may be spending ample time there when not constructing the professional downfall of your idiot colleague. In that moment, Chan forces himself into your line of vision with a wide grin and nods his head over towards the elevator.

"Floor seven," he says, handing you one of the room keys.

You look at it, sitting thoughtfully placed inside of its red paper envelope with a number written on in gold ink. Then, you glance at his, still remaining in his hand.

The same number.

"We don't have separate rooms?" you question, though you're capable enough to already know the answer to such an asinine question. Thus, you move onto the next most obvious one. "Why don't we have separate rooms?"

"There's two beds, it's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," you all but shout, forcing the tail end of your anger back as to maintain a semblance of professionality. "We need to go back down and get this sorted out. I'll handle it."

Chan laughs under his breath, watching the number on the LED change as the elevator rises.

"You won't be sorting anything out. There's about five major conferences in the area this weekend and this place is heavily booked, as is everywhere else decent in the region. You're just going to have to put your big girl pants on and deal with it."

You don't know Los Angeles well enough to hide a body. Unfortunate.

Though your fingers tingle and your head throbs, you don't bother fighting the fact any further. You are a logical woman, and you're perfectly capable of understanding the concept of there being no further vacancy in a hotel. Thus, you sigh, clench your jaw, and drop it altogether.

When the elevator stops with a ding, you couldn't feel more relieved. You rush out from between the metal doors so quickly that you nearly shoulder it as it continues its momentum. Down the hall and pausing in front of your shared, temporary residence, you press the key to the reader and push inside without even so much as a thought about where Chan is or how he is fairing with the baggage load that he has taken upon himself to deal with.

The door nearly shuts him out, a leg craned in through the crack as he fights it without a word to you for help.

It is spacious. Bright and clean and smells of new linens like no one prior to the two of you has ever actually stayed in here before. The bathroom is large and pristine in the way that it glitters. A wide enough working space with two chairs and not nearly enough coffee offered straight away—though that's a simple enough fix as far as you are concerned.

"Pretty nice!"

Ah. You had nearly forgotten about him, but Chan always has a way of making his presence known. He hands you your bag and you pull it over towards the side of the bed that faces the large window, blinds drawn. Reaching towards them, Chan offers up his expertise once again.

"They said there's a balcony."

"Surely I could have gathered as much for myself."

He rolls his eyes and sits on the edge of his bed, intent on unpacking. You continue on towards the balcony, pulling the fabric away and gazing out through the massive, glass panes.

It's Los Angeles. Not a whole lot to offer as far as views go in the major city areas, but suppose it will have to do.

"We should get dinner tonight. Look over our plan of action for the next couple of days with these clients and get to know one another a little bit better." Chan isn't looking at you while he says it, but you can hear the hopefulness in the sound of his voice without necessarily seeing it on his face. "Besides, it's on company dime, might as well go all-out!"

While the idea of spending somewhat intimate, one-on-one time with this man is not something that excites you, suppose what does excite you is the possibility of putting your devilish little plan of hostile take-over into action. Unfortunately, what this also means for your future, is something that will be much, much more difficult than simply defeating him.

Being nice.

"Yeah, that sounds good, actually." You hope the sudden change in your demeanor doesn't raise any red flags in his mind, but you don't think him to be smart enough to consider the fact. "There was a nice looking place downstairs in the lobby, maybe we should go there."

"Perfect!"

He's so happy that it almost makes you feel guilty about the whole thing.

Chan continues on. "It's early and I've got a few things I want to get ahead on. I'll get out of here so that you can sleep, just in case that's what you'd like to do, but feel free to send me a message if you need me for anything. I'll just be downstairs."

He's so kind. How unfortunate.

"I will, thank you."

Chan grabs his work bag and scurries out of the shared room. How disastrous this whole thing is for him, a monumental case of wrong place, wrong time.

Dinner is good, but your trickery is far more delicious.

There's a stack of envelopes with paperwork inside of them sitting on the edge of the relatively small table, barely enough room for it now that entrees and glasses of wine have been poured, but now that the business portion of the evening has come to a close, the two of you are able to enjoy the perks that going on these sorts of trips often has to offer.

Chan sits ahead of you with a glass full of white wine and a nicer tie than the one he arrived with. He looks handsome–that, you can't deny—though it's something that will have to sit ignored in the back of your mind with far more important matters to consider.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

You're lost in your thoughts when he asks the question suddenly, and it jars you back into the present moment with what you imagine to be an incredibly evident startle.

"I'm not sure that's any of your business," you reply quickly, but on second thought, you remember that your plan is to reel him in. Thus, you amend the response. "No, I'm not. I'm much too wrapped up with my career for that."

Chan pouts, like he's sad about it for you. "Still, it gets lonely, yeah?"

He looks and sounds sincere in a way that you're not expecting, and suppose a little honesty won't completely hinder your end goal.

"It does, sometimes, but that's what I've chosen. Once I'm comfortable with where I am professionally, then I'll carve out time for dating." You look up at him, pointing your fork straight at him, "this isn't some thinly veiled commentary about how I'm getting too old to find someone, is it?"

And though you're somewhat joking in saying it, horror strikes through each and every one of Chan's facial features upon hearing the words.

"What? Oh, no! God, no! I was just thinking that working long hours like we do can be isolating, so it might be nice to have someone to go home to at the end of it all, you know?"

You do know.

"It's not that I don't get out and meet people, do things," you say, taking a sip from your glass to wash away the humiliation of honesty that lingers in your throat. "They're just not…long term acquaintances, if you will."

Chan grins knowingly, and you don't particularly like that look on him. As if you've not been the one giving up the information freely to get him to this point.

"Ah, I see," he says in an exhale and an accompanying nod, "just enough to keep the bed warm next to you sometimes, huh? I'm no stranger to that arrangement, myself."

This is far more information than you find you ever need to know about any of your colleagues, though the same could be said about anything at all regarding their personal lives. Spouses, kids, pets, what kind of car they drive; it's all more information than you care to know about any of them, though you can't help but feel the sizzle of intrigue inside of your chest at his willingness to offer up such particularly intimate knowledge in regards to his late night activities.

Perhaps playing with this guy will be more fun than originally considered.

And thus, you take something of a gamble in relation.

"To be honest with you, I've been seeing someone casually for a while, though I'm not sure if that arrangement is working out for me any longer."

Both of you take another sip from your glasses, but Chan's gaze lingers on you for an especially lengthy amount of time. He sets his glass down calmly on the table, sighs aloud, and then settles himself casually against the back of the chair.

"I know you've been sleeping with the CEO."

You are thankful to no longer be in the middle of your drink, because you'd certainly be choking on the swallow right about now.

There's an attempt to maintain your composure—something that you're quite adept at—though in situations like this you have far less experience in doing so. You're not quite sure whether or not the shock is obvious across your face, but it certainly feels like it is.

No point in lying, the both of you are already here, after all.

"Is that so." Not a question, a statement.

Chan shrugs, all nonchalant in a way that you don't really appreciate, either.

"Yeah, he let it slip one of the nights we were out late playing darts with the guys from the office. Sounded a bit like he was boasting, like I was supposed to be impressed with him for it, or something."

"I take it you're not the only one who knows then?"

"Nah, I don't think he told everyone. It was a moment where we were alone, I don't really know why he told me. I was just like, that's great, man, and then we started talking about the game."

Slumping into your chair, it's the first time you've felt well and truly defeated, and especially when it comes to any and all matters such as these. While you're not ashamed of the lengths gone through in order to attain what it is that you intend to attain, it is far from ideal for the entire office to be aware of it.

"Amazing, you didn't even have to sleep with him to get put on this assignment," you sigh, arms crossing over your chest. "Suppose I look foolish now."

"I don't really care about that, about you doing whatever you think you need to do to get ahead in life. If you want to sleep with our boss to do that then that's your prerogative," Chan says, tone simplistic and plain. "Where I do care is that you seem to be under the impression that you're the only person in the office who is worthy of anything, and that no one else is working hard in order to achieve anything. I am, we are, just most of us aren't going to the same lengths that you are."

A beat of silence passes between you, and in perfect timing, the waiter comes with the check and disappears just as swiftly. Once he disappears from the table side, Chan leans forward, dropping his volume even more in a way that expresses so wholly that the next words spoken are truly only meant for you.

"I've seen your work, I know you have what it takes to be a top executive in this company, and that's without all of the extra shit like fucking some rich scumbag who's just going to turn around and throw the fact back in your face." He leans back again, signs the receipt, and then begins reaching for the stack of papers. "But you're not the only one who works hard and puts in crazy hours to earn a place here. Let's work this case like the team we're meant to be, get it done like I know that we can, and shove it in that asshole's face once we get back."

It's a plan that seems so pleasant on the surface: working together with a colleague who you now have nothing to hide from, who knows all of your dirty little professional secrets and still appears to respect you in spite of it.

You watch Chan pack all of the belongings into a briefcase and can't help but wonder, why don't you care? Why would someone in direct competition with you not seem to be bothered by the fact that you're extending yourself well beyond a professional setting in order to no longer have to compete with him on equal footing?

Rather, you can't help but feel as though the tone of the conversation has taken a turn, almost as though Chan respects you and your work ethic more after the discussion of it all. With everything laid out onto the table, this man knows and understands you in a way that no one else really does, and beyond all of it—he still sees you. He sees how important all of this is, how you're capable of doing just about anything to achieve your purpose no matter how looked down upon it often is, and no matter how humiliating it has thus turned out to be.

Chan just sees you.

"We have an early morning tomorrow, I know these guys are going to want us there at least twenty minutes before the time, so we should plan to have our coffee and look over the documents well before we're meant to arrive."

You glance up at him as he stands, baggage in hand and a smile that says all of the very same things you've just come to realize about him. It's back to normal, like nothing has happened, no conversation about any ethically questionable goings on has even taken place.

Back to regularly scheduled programming.

And you kind of like that.

Twenty minutes early becomes thirty minutes, due to your insistence. With a coffee in hand and perfectly manicured nails, you step out from one of the back doors of the taxi and leave the dealing with briefcases and paperwork to the guy who insists on going above and beyond to make himself useful to you. Good.

It's an early morning, but you find some comfort in that. Los Angeles never really turns off, but at least for now the sidewalks and streets are just a bit quieter than they will be at any other hour of the day. The weather is beautiful—perfectly breezy in just the right amount, with the sun coyly peeking through the clouds edges up above—and you can't help but think to yourself, no way that this day could possibly go wrong for me.

The office building that the two of you stand in front of is nothing special, as far as appearances go. Most in the surrounding area look much the same; worn down from the elements and barely seeing any architectural upkeep, but the spinning, glass front doors standing just a few paces ahead tell a different story of the interior. In ways, it brings a sort of feeling of the illuminated beauty of your professional future, standing between you, and there.

You're in your best set of dress. Black and white with a long skirt fitted just right. Chan is much of the same beside you in his immaculately tailored jacket, accentuating the wide slope of his shoulders and sleeves cutting off perfectly at his wrists.

He turns to look at you, and then smiles with a cute cock of his head.

"Ready to smash it?"

And not that you needed the added boost, but hearing the words vocalized from him adds just that much more fuel to your fire.

You nod. "Absolutely."

Hands are shaken and pleasantries exchanged once you and Chan are invited upstairs and into a large, white conference room that feels far too sterline and uninhabited for your liking. The place feels open, yet uninviting in a way that grates on your nerves and incites the kind of anxiety that you've not felt in these situations for many, many years.

One positive, is that the three men that you're meant to be working with today seem relatively uninterested in you, particularly. From one head of the table, you set your coffee down and begin unpacking a briefcase full of paperwork, envelopes, and a laptop crammed full of numbers and offerings and statistics meant to make this a home run. You know that it will be, you believe wholly that it will, but as you glance up and across what feels to be an impossibly long table towards the grouping of men chuckling and laughing amongst themselves, you can't help but feel something else that you've not felt in such a long time.

The all-encompassing suffocation of male cliquiness.

The Boys Club. They exist in so many spaces, and far from unheard of in your particular line of work. You watch on—particularly at Chan—as he smiles and laughs along with men that take absolutely no interest in you, your work, or what you bring to the table. They all playfully slap each other's arms and nod along to their stupid jokes like they've been best friends since the playground, and you are left out of it entirely.

Once you're settled, you stare at them and their childishness for what feels like an eternity, until finally you decide upon being the bad guy and taking matters into your own hands.

You clear your throat, "mind if we get started?"

The laughter stops dead in its tracks, all joy seemingly sucked out of the room at a lightning quick pace, and the men slowly turn to grant you their obvious looks of abject disapproval.

Though, you can't help but wonder which part they are disapproving of, exactly; be it the fact that it is time to begin the meeting, or the fact that a woman has the audacity to tell them as much.

Still, they follow suit without a disgruntled word. Chan makes his way around the table to meet you where you stand, but as the two of you meet eyes, he nods at you. The quiet insistence for you to take the lead. Not that you had any plans otherwise.

So, you do. With the laptop hooked up and the projection upon the wall, you begin going over statistics for the men to look over, take in, eventually discuss amongst themselves. It's easy work for you, knowing all of this information and all of the inner workings of your profession like the back of your hand.

One man raises a hand slightly into the air, a pen perched between his fingers as he nods towards the projector.

"What was the annual turnover for 2019 and how did that impact the immediate years going forward?"

He is looking at Chan when he asks the question, though your colleague has not said a word the entire time. You want to be better than the urge to present yourself in a way unbecoming of women in your position, because you know that anything you do can be interpreted as such, but the anger and desire for hostility gets the better of you when you reply back to him.

"2.3%, and the impact was minimal, easily dealt with internally with very little felt as a result of it throughout other sectors of the company."

The man asking raises his eyebrows, as if surprised by the fact that you have spoken. You've swallowed down your pride that would come out as far more aggressive than simply answering the question, so if he has an issue with you doing so now, you know precisely what to chalk it up as.

He turns to look at his colleagues first, then his attention falls back to you with a foul curl to the corner of his lips.

"I asked him," he says, pointing his pen at Chan. "Not you."

To this, Chan reels physically. You're not looking at him, not paying him any mind in particular, but you can see as much out of the corner of your eye from where he stands beside you. Now, your eyebrows perk up at the insidiousness of what's so outwardly and openly taking place here, but not so willing to take it on as a defeat just yet.

"With all due respect," you reply, calm and unshaken as you can be. Practiced, throughout the years. "I've been working at this company for six years, been through the lowest of the lows and had a personal hand in ensuring that it reached its highest of highs. While my colleague is knowledgeable and well-respected, this meeting is being led by me, so I would appreciate it if any questions be directed as such."

This feels good. Far from the first time you've had to stick up for yourself in such a way, you exhale the nerves through a semi-shaken breath and settle yourself where you stand. You're still not looking at him, but you do notice the fought back creeping of a smile across his lips.

The joys of victory end quickly, however.

Another man speaks up, this one seated across the way from the first indignant fellow.

"With all due respect," he begins, mocking you. "I believe I speak for all of the men in the room when I say that the only questions we're particularly interested in asking you relate to the snugness of your skirt around your hips and ass, and if there are ever questions relating back to the professional aspect of this engagement, we will be addressing your colleague."

The mixture of emotions that course through you is electric, impossible to parse through and pick just one out to focus on. Anxiety, anger, humiliation, regret, terror, sadness; they all rage through your nerves. Your skin feels hot, a sort of dizziness coming in on you quickly that you don't appreciate, because now is not the time to be experiencing weakness. Your lips part to speak, still unsure of what to even say. Flabbergasted, you attempt to find the words—some words—to fire back at these horrible men, but your mind feels simultaneously full and empty. How can that be.

A woman who prides herself on being the best and brightest in the room, dwindled down to nothing at the hands of useless, pathetic men who bring nothing to the table besides those already aforementioned.

"Alright, let's not get out of hand," Chan says, cutting in through the awkward silence. This appears to appease the men, which you dislike even more though you understand his reasoning for doing it. "My colleague is very well-respected in her profession and incredibly knowledgeable. Perhaps it would be best if we make quick work of wrapping this up and heading off on our separate ways."

For the rest of the meeting, Chan takes the lead. The men down the way open up splendidly, laugh and have a wonderful time with another man in charge, saying all of the same things you had said, reading off of all of the sheets of information that you compiled, that you slaved away at for weeks, for months at a time. Countless late nights with nothing more than the television for company in the background and a frozen pizza in the oven in order to make sure that you will never, ever be the recipient of the kinds of unreasonable lashings that you have taken on today.

All for nothing.

You don't dare speak another word, and sit in the shadow cast by your colleague. When the meeting concludes, the business men are happy; smiling and laughing along with any and everything Chan says. They love him. They love him not because he is knowledgeable, or good at his job in a way that is particularly extraordinary, but simply because he is not a woman. Simply because he is not you.

This sort of dichotomy has always existed, and in every facet of life, too. When buried into your work and the insular walls of your typical professional environment, suppose that it's easy to forget what it's like out here, in the real world. Where men do not respect you whether you're better than them or not, all in all, the result is the same, anyway.

Suppose the CEO has prepared you for this moment, a smaller humiliation only to set you up for one much larger and harder to swallow down the pain of.

Chan handles these men—the situation as a whole—as well as he can, you suppose. There is a kind of pain that settles in your chest at his unwillingness to turn it into a fight, though logically, you understand how pointless this might be for everyone involved. How short-lived the joy of bombing this meeting might be, only so that the suffering of your ego-death be even shorter-lived.

Just get in, and then get out, as relatively unscathed as you can manage. Chan has picked up the pieces left scattered around to the best of his ability and really, with flying colors.

It does not change, however, the deeply nestled pain of being on the receiving end of such corrupt wrongdoings.

The taxi ride back to the hotel is silent, and you're thankful for the fact that Chan does not make so much as an attempt to say a word.

On the small table just beside you, there sits a tall, green bottle of wine with no glass to accompany it. You've decided against it, and that drinking straight from the source will suit you just fine as a consolation prize on the balcony tonight.

One of the charms of Los Angeles, you find, is the weather in the evenings. A cool breeze that gently carries over your features and through your hair as you stand against the railing and gaze out at the still-busy streets down below. There's a part of you that wishes to have the will to go out and enjoy the city on the last night here, and with your work responsibilities settled, but the mood of previous encounters still sits heavy on your chest, dampening any hope of enjoying yourself before your flight tomorrow morning.

Though many, long hours have passed since the morning, conversation between you and Chan have been few and far between. You understand it well enough as him, knowing the time and place to engage with a person after being so horrifically wronged, so when the glass door slowly slides open and he brings himself outside to join you, your heavy heart welcomes the intrusion, rather than resents it.

"Hey," he says, barely above a whisper. "Mind if I come out?"

Your smile is thin and straight, hardly able to be called such. "Sure, take a seat."

There's only one wobbly wooden chair next to the table. A ridiculous design from all angles of consideration, but Chan doesn't bother arguing with you and slowly slinks himself down into what it has to offer him.

His hair is damp and freshly toweled off after a shower—loose curls sticking up every which way as if looking for a means to escape from his head. You smile at the sight, appreciate how approachable and kind he appears when he isn't done up in a professional setting like you're used to seeing. There's a realization that has dawned on you at some point during the day, though you have difficulty in pinpointing the precise time, where you come to accept your softening heart towards your colleague.

Perhaps on account of your forced togetherness, perhaps aided by his willingness to diffuse a situation in what might have been the best way that he knew how in the moment. No, he didn't enact violence upon those men in that office space, and yes, it would have been nice to see, but solve something, it wouldn't have, and suppose all you had really hoped to do was escape further escalation as quietly as the situation would allow for, anyway.

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier." Chan is the first to speak up since seated, the first to bring up the whole thing since its having taken place. "It's so fucked. Simple, pathetic men with a chip on their shoulder who can't handle acknowledging that a woman is capable of doing their job, and more."

"Yeah," you sigh, turning towards him in an effort to grab the wine bottle once more. "Guess it's not anything I'm not used to, though it's been a long time since it's so blatantly been shoved in front of my face."

You take a large sip, and then laugh to yourself before continuing on with a similar thought.

"Actually, I guess that's not true, considering our boss pretty much did the same thing right before sending us out on this mission."

Turned to face him now, you watch Chan's features scrunch like he's fighting back the urge to speak his mind plainly, though evidently, it is a fight meant to be lost.

"Look, it's really none of my business what you do," he says, a seemingly rattled hand rushing to run fingers through his hair, "but do you really think it serves you to keep seeing that guy? God, he's such a fucking asshole, airing out your personal business to other colleagues and then waving it around in the office right before sending us on this trip—I wouldn't be surprised if those guys were friends of his, too. Birds of a feather, and all that, you know?"

Another sip, though now you're looking down at Chan with a kind of surprised gratitude.

"No, I don't think it does, though it'll be mighty interesting finding out how navigating those professional waters will work out for me. Suppose that's the position I've put myself in, though."

It's then that Chan stands, all white bathrobe and silly hair that warms your heart as he closes much of the small amount of distance that previously would sit before the two of you. With this new, closer proximity, it's easier to take in the charming slope of his nose and the plump, pretty fullness of his lips.

"The only people in this equation who are wrong for what they've done is him, and those pieces of shit from this morning." He pauses—the both of you do—and for a moment you think each of your breaths to be held in suspension as to what it is that's going to happen next. Chan's eyes remain fixed on yours for so long, and as you feel your temperature rise across your skin and the beat of your heart pick up in some unfamiliar sort of anticipation, you're able to see his gaze flicker down to your lips for just a second before once again settling on maintaining eye contact. "Yeah, you've been kind of an asshole to me, to other people in the office, but that doesn't mean you're deserving of this. No woman is deserving of being subjected to this, regardless of who it is that you decide to sleep with, and for what reason."

If not for his soft demeanor standing right before you, you might believe him to be angry with how he sounds. He must be, though he carries himself well enough as to not let it come out in ugly and unpleasant ways; and as a result, the quick and hard beating of your heart within your chest only picks up that much more. Since when does this guy have such an absurd effect on you?

"I've seen the work you put in, so I'm in a pretty good position to make the call," Chan says, inching himself just ever so slightly closer to you. His voice drops lower now, and accompanying it, the less subtle eyeing of your mouth in relation to his. "You're better than this, you're better than probably all of these blokes here."

"Is that so?" you whisper in response, and though the sentiment is appreciated, you must acknowledge within yourself that the topic of conversation has fallen quite a bit to the wayside in favor of something far more intriguing, something far newer, and more enticing.

"It is." He inches closer yet, only suspected millimeters of distance still held between your mouths. "I'm a pretty good judge of character, you know."

"Says the guy who used to hang out with our boss to get ahead."

Chan grins at your playful combativeness before replying, "Just doing what it takes, I'd have slept with him too if the opportunity were to arise."

Free hand coming up to feather over the softness of his robe, your palm smoothes across his chest and the definition that lies beneath before speaking.

"You know, I'm technically your superior, too."

"Oh?" he chimes, eyebrows perked. "Is that so?"

"Technically," you answer with a small shrug. "I've got you on length of employment, by a couple of years."

Caged in against the railing of the balcony, Chan's lips reside so close to your own that they nearly ghost over the flesh. He smells of mint and rosemary from having been freshly washed—all the more damning for you and your budding curiosity about him.

"Should I give up on trying to sleep with him, then?" Chan asks, a seductive playfulness laced throughout each and every word. "Move on to different, more promising prospects?"

"Only one way to find out."

When Chan finally closes the distance fully and kisses you, it's not as hard, not as rushed as you previously had anticipated it to be. The kiss is careful, a want that resides deeply nestled beneath it but far from the thing that grants unbridled haste and need. His lips are soft, the tug of his teeth at your bottom lip experimental as he tests the waters in regard to what he should or should not be doing, but it's a kind of trepidation that only has you eager for more from him. Your fingers grip tightly into the robe, a light pull in order to have his body more firmly and intentionally against your own, and it must be precisely the sort of green light he had been looking for, because the delicate slide of his tongue to find yours enters into the mix, and now you have no other choice but to accept that your original plan in hostile takeover has ultimately ended up in yet another failure.

Though this one is far more appreciated, and you've got to admit, you're happy to go home tomorrow with this sort of loss sitting on your scorecard.

The day of your return home is long and full of travel, though this does little to stave off all of the thoughts of what could, and might be.

Falling hard and fast has never been you. Through the years you've dedicated to your professional development, you've met people, shared bed and intimacies with people that never were to develop beyond the simple gratification that the two of you granted each other in those moments. You try to think back to the last time you really wanted someone; not physically, not sexually, but as a larger and more intrinsic part of your life.

But you can't, not until now.

Chan offers you a ride back to your home from the airport once the both of you land. The taxi is long and expensive, and while money is of no consequence to you, there is a much firmer inkling within that wishes to have just a little bit more time together that isn't set between the walls of a stuffy office that you now have come to have great disdain for.

Driving on the highway, you roll your window down slightly and enjoy the breeze as it's offered to you. The horizon paints itself with colors of pink, purple, and orange as the sun begins to set; normally something of no interest to you, but now? Now, a newfound beauty in all of it.

You barely know Chan, but what you've learned in a short amount of time has you eager to find out more. You can't help but wonder if he feels the same.

"Hey, uh."

As if reading your mind, Chan pipes up from the driver's side, a nervousness in his voice that you aren't quite familiar with but has you eager to hear more.

"Look, no pressure, yeah? But…think you might be interested in coming back to mine and having a drink, or just to talk?"

Thank all of the powers that be, you think to yourself.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," you say, trying to temper your interest. "Let's do that."

Chan's place is nice. Comfortable, cared for, but cozy.

As you step inside and remove your shoes, you look around to take in your surroundings. The furniture is nice, but not lavishly so. Pretty vases with flowers and hanging picture frames showing memories of friends and family adorning his walls that come off as inviting, and not showy. In juxtaposition, you find yourself thinking back to so many other places that you've visited in the past—homes that feel far less like them, and more like museums. Do not touch. The empty atmosphere of being unlived in.

A cork pops off from a bottle just a bit inside and around a corner, thus, you follow the invitation of it. Chan stands in his kitchen pouring two glasses of wine, and you take a seat at the small, glass, dining room table in wait.

"Workplace romances are forbidden, you know."

Well, that is certainly one way for you to broach the topic.

And while you've been mulling it over the whole day, you had decided upon this as the best route. It's simplistic enough to get the point across, but also light-hearted in a way that it doesn't need to be taken too seriously in consideration by Chan. The concept of an office romance being so broad that there is difficulty in necessarily pinpointing what does, or does not, fit within the definition.

But the two of you have kissed, and there is clearly some degree of interest. So, it applies well enough to be used as the shoe horn.

However, Chan only smiles as he finishes up the task of pouring the drinks. He glances up at you briefly, then carries on with what it is that he is doing before replying.

"Okay," he says. Not giving you much to work with until he comes around the table and sits beside you, wine glasses set onto the tabletop. "Then I'll quit."

"Wait, what?"

You don't expect this answer, and it certainly doesn't make any sense to you, either. Yes, things have been moving relatively quickly in your own mind, and as far as your own feelings are concerned, but has the same been true for him? To this degree, at that?

He shrugs. "I'll quit. It's not a big deal, I don't even like that place, and I sure as hell don't like our boss, so I'll just find another job if it means we can keep doing this comfortably."

Chan punctuates the thought with a sip of his drink, so nonchalant. Like the most absurd thing hasn't just come out of his mouth with incredible conviction.

"I…but…" you stutter out, trying to gather your thoughts. "You barely even know me, and if I'm being honest, it sounds a little crazy to be willing to give up such a huge position at a company just to date a colleague that wasn't even that nice to you only a couple of days ago."

"Yeah, I suppose when you put it like that, it does sound a little crazy." Chan takes another bored sip of wine. "I did tell you I'm a pretty good judge of character, though."

A beat of silence passes between the two of you, and you take it as an opportunity to bring your own glass up and to your lips before speaking into the rim. "Going to give up your job so you can sleep with me."

"Well, not just sleep with you, though I guess that depends on how good it is."

You choke on the sip.

"I'm a big boy, I can make career decisions for myself, even if that decision is to effectively and temporarily blow mine up." Chan's hand finds your thigh beneath the table then, fingertips gently digging into the flesh of the inside. "The rest is up to you, though. We can call all of this off right here, right now, and go to work tomorrow like nothing ever happened."

With the back of your neck heating up and the light prickling of goosebumps across your skin, you set your glass down, inhale deeply, and then look Chan square in the eyes.

"Maybe it's about time you earn that next promotion."

"You know—"

Chan whispers the words out and against your lips, through fervent kisses so quick and needy that he's barely able to say anything, at all. Hands are busy at work to slip the both of you out of your business attire from the day; button down shirts, belts, slacks, and skirts strewn hastily about the hardwood flooring of his bedroom while stumbling desperately towards the bed.

"I never thought my next promotion would be getting myself fired."

"Life is just full of surprises," you say, pushing him to the edge of the bed and gently down on top of it. "Isn't it?"

He doesn't bother responding, however, instead fixated on the way you drop to your knees between his legs and lightly graze a palm over the tenting at the front of his undergarments.

Fingers hooking into the elastic sides, you drop them down his thighs, freeing what it is that you really wish to see of him. You wrap a hand around the thick base of his length, gently stroking him to a fullness that was already so close to being reached. Chan sighs into the touch first, then a light groan that catches in his throat at the feeling of your tongue traversing up the underside of him, only to curve around the tip and then sink down whole to take him in.

One hand comes up to find the back of your head, though there's no force behind the gesture as you work him with your mouth. The wide stretch is enough to already have you feeling the fatigue of such an offering, but the heavenly sound of Chan quickly unraveling beneath you is enough to have you ignoring the ache that comes along with the wonder of such a large cock.

"Fuck, you feel good," he exhales, hips ever so slightly canting up to meet your mouth as you take him deeper in.

You pull off slowly, looking up the length of his perfect, toned body to meet his heavily lidded eyes. Hand still stroking him as you do. "You know what feels better?"

"I can guess."

With that, Chan leans forward and grasps you by the wrist—pulls you up and onto the bed with the kind of strength you couldn't dare fight against if you wanted to. Swapping your positions, you find yourself splayed out against the mattress and with hands already busy prying your thighs apart to accommodate him before you're even able to gather your senses.

A lone finger slides up your wet crease, stilling at the most sensitive part of you. Your body jolts at the feeling, looking down as Chan grins only inches away from the place where you want him the most.

"Would you hold it against me if I told you I wanted to fuck you the moment we landed in LA?" he admits, and punctuates the thought with a languid stroke of his tongue following where his finger has just traveled. "Never would have said anything in a million years but—God, the way you look dressed for work like that? So professional and serious, couldn't stop thinking about what you'd sound like if I just—"

Chan pauses the thought, digs his tongue and the plush of his lips more firmly against your clit and gently offers the sensation of being filled by two fingers simultaneously. You can't help the whine that falls from your mouth, though you make a half-hearted attempt to catch it before it does. One hand of fingers curling into the bedding below, the other finding Chan's hair to wrap the curls up and between; he wastes no further time showing precisely the kind of want that he has quietly carried for you. Dizzying and electric beneath your skin, hips bucking up ever so slightly and without conscious thought to find more of him as he grants it to you.

"I was so mean to you, though," you manage to say through heavy breaths and moans, "would you hold it against me if I told you I considered fucking you to try to ruin you? Professionally, of course."

The sounds that this information musters up and out of Chan can only be described as the most animalistic, primal groan of hedonistic want that you've ever heard.

"Yeah? You're going to ruin me?" he replies, fingers still pressed inside of you and a thumb firmly sitting at your clit. "Might have to revisit who's going to be ruining who."

Disappearing off and to the side, Chan makes such quick work of dealing with the necessities that you almost don't even notice his having done so. He stands afterwards—all but hauls you further up the length of the bed to accommodate his being there as well, and then positions himself between your legs once more as he drags the thickness of his cock through the wetness that awaits him.

"Maybe I sort of like it when you're mean to me, ever consider that?" Chan asks, coy in tone. One hand gripping into the soft flesh of your thigh as to hold you open for him while the other sits firm at the base of his cock, blunt head only slightly pressing at your opening. "Maybe it was all just a plot by me to get you to talk to me like a piece of shit so that I could then, in turn, fuck you stupid like we both want."

And while you would love to fight the point, the steady drive of Chan's hips forward makes for that to be an impossibility. The stretch of him carving out space inside of you for his cock is dizzying, slow and careful as he does so. You whine and sigh out as he pulls your body onto him until he rests fully inside.

"You talk a big game," Chan says then, gently fucking into you as his hands slide down and settle around your hips for leverage. "But at least you can take a big dick too, can't you?"

It's so much happening all at once, your senses in overdrive at the way that he's speaking to you almost condescendingly, paired with how pulled apart from the seams your body feels in order to accommodate his thickness. Once settled into more of a steady, offering drive into you, the friction is mind-numbing—feeling so full that not one single nerve ending finding reprieve from the hug of your body around his cock.

You reach forward with one hand, grasping at a strong, tensed arm that shows beneath the flesh each and every muscle he has worked so hard for. Your nails dig in, and as a result, he fucks you harder, faster; hips snapping roughly against the undersides of your thighs.

"Fuck, Chan, don't—don't stop."

"Yeah? Like it that much, huh?" His grip on your hips gets harder, and the strength in his upper body now fully used to pull your body down and against his cock with every drive. "You're taking it so good, maybe one of these days we'll see how good your pretty body can take it when I fill you up with my cum, yeah?"

And you want to be better than this, stronger than this. Stronger than the way that the words go straight into your already pained and needing arousal—tightening around him, an orgasm now threatening on the horizon much faster than originally anticipated.

You gasp out his name, repeating expletives in droves like a hopeless chant that you have no control of as a knowing smirk paints across his lips and he continues on with the work he is putting into your body.

"Want that," he says, breath shaky. "Want me to come in you. Now who's the one of us earning something?"

Grip into his skin tightening just that much more, your back arches up and off of the bed; thighs shaking and muscles tightening as you grit your teeth through the way that your orgasm shakes you. Chan never stops, the glide of his cock so smooth and easy between your walls that even through the stiffness of your body as you come, the strength that he holds makes it easy to use your form to fuck himself with as he watches you release around him with enamored appreciation.

It doesn't take much more from him, and you feel the way he fucks into you becoming more erratic, more needy and without plan as he aims to find his release. Though you've just finished, and need and want for him still courses through your veins at a lightning quick pace, and thus, when you beg for him in a whine to come on your body, it's a kind of humiliation that you'll have to deal with only after the fact.

But not now.

Chan groans, deep and nestled into his chest as he pulls himself from the warmth of you and pulls the condom off—you watch him stroke over his wet, thick cock by hand quickly—taking in the sight of how the definition of his abdomen and chest flex as he reaches closer and closer to his end.

"Anything for you," he says, though the words are barely audible and totally destroyed in the dryness of his throat. "Little cock-drunk, are you? Don't worry baby, I'll give you what you want."

While his tone is just ever so slightly condescending, there's a sort of sexiness in the confidence of it that does, indeed, drive you even crazier with each and every utterance of it. Chan strokes himself to completion shortly after; free hand coming up to find your clit and carefully rubbing you along with him as he comes. The both of you moan in unison, watching the way his cum paints your chest and stomach in such a lewd fashion before the momentum naturally slows, as does his hand.

Chests heaving, Chan is the first to cough out a laugh in the aftermath of it all.

"Did I get carried away?"

"No," you say through a heavy, exhausted exhale. "No, not at all. Fuck."

"Good?"

You give him a tired look in response, not wanting to give him the pleasure of acknowledging it with words.

Chan appears to accept this with a smile, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own. It's not needy, not full of lust as before. Now, laced within it is something completely different, and not unlike the first time that the two of you shared a kiss together.

You opt out of spending the night together, on account of having work early in the morning and wanting to be proper fresh for the occasion. None of your belongings are here, none of your work clothes—only items hours traveled in and then lightly carrying the musk of two people far too hasty in going at one another.

Still, you can't help but consider what the aftermath of this truly looks like for the both of you in the workplace. Of course, Chan admits a willingness in the moment to quit his job for the opportunity of the two of you exploring this—but how much truth could really be lying within those words?

A man who barely knows you, who has no real reason to be willing to do such a thing for you. What makes you so special, anyway?

Suppose the next morning in the office will tell.

Stepping into the office, you aren't so sure what you expect to find, only that what you have found is most definitely not it.

People are running all about, through the corridors, in and out of cubicle spaces, phones ringing and ringing for what sounds like forever with the sound of shouting into receivers coming from every single direction.

You walk in further, down the hallway towards your own personal office—but just before you make it there, your boss cranes his head out from his own just a bit further down the way and shouts at you for the world to hear.

"You! Get in here, now! What have you done?"

Eyes wide and eyebrows pressed up towards the ceiling, you can't help but wonder to yourself; what have I done?

Once you make it inside, you don't even bother closing the door behind you. Privacy isn't needed now, in part because a new side of you has been unlocked since this trip—a part of you that doesn't care. A part of you that has long since resigned yourself to simply not giving a shit about any of this. Not like you used to, not in the same way that once allowed for it to take, and take, and take from you without ever truly giving back.

You're free now.

"Did you know that Chris quit?" the man shouts, hair tousled and random papers lying thoughtlessly around his desk. "What did you do on that trip? What did you do to him you little—you little…bitch."

These words, once upon a time that is not even all that long ago, might have hurt you in such an inexplicable way, but now, the concept of such a thing seems so unfathomable, so far away from you. The cutting edge of a knife meant to maim, only now it slides off of you effortlessly—this man can no longer hurt you, and soon, you have decided, he can no longer take from you, either.

"I didn't do anything to him, sir." You smile, accompanying the words. "Though I don't think the same can be said for me. I think he's done a lot to me in a very short time, and for that, I am incredibly thankful."

The man pauses, looks at you with an empty stare before his eyebrows firmly knit together in a grimace. He intends to speak, but you are no longer interested in hearing anything from him.

"I quit, too."

Turning back towards the door, you hear the man stumbling over his words in an attempt to get something of use out. For once, it would seem, he is left speechless. The ideal version of him, you can't help but think.

"You can pay out my severance as intended under typical circumstances, and if you don't, I'll send everything to HR and contact a lawyer to take you for everything that you're worth," you add in, glancing back over your shoulder. "And I will win."

"Oh, and thanks for fucking me over so exquisitely on this work trip, I actually think it worked out in everyone's best interest."

Halfway out of the door, you hum, then turn back towards him for the last time with a smug, gratified smirk.

"Well, except maybe for you."

Your hectic surroundings as you leave the office for the very last time feel like nothing but static noise. Inconsequential and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. You don't know what the future holds for you, or for Chan, or for whatever it is that the two of you might have budding and blossoming together. It sort of doesn't matter, which you find to be the beauty of a new beginning.

When the elevator sounds off upon reaching the bottom floor, the metal doors part, and standing in the marble lobby is a familiar face that you're certainly not expecting to see.

Chan stands there before you; all fitted jeans and comfortable black hoodie. A casual side of him that you've not seen before, but are so delighted to be able to that it ignites a fluttering in your chest that perhaps you've not felt since grade school.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

He tries to fight back the smile, but to no avail. "I knew you were going to quit, so I figured I'd be here to get you when you did."

"I didn't come here this morning with the intention of doing that."

"I'm sure you didn't." Chan swings the loop of his keys around on a finger nonchalantly. "But I still knew you would. Breakfast?"

Three days isn't long enough to say I love you, but there's a previously locked away, fairytale side of you that's certainly thinking it right about now.

"We're both unemployed, should we be going out and getting breakfast?"

Chan tsks at that, "we're top executives in our field, we'll both be head-hunted before we even start looking. Besides—"

Reaching down, Chan takes the hand not holding a briefcase into his own, pointedly fitting fingers in between your own and looking straight into your eyes.

"Can't a guy take his girlfriend out for a waffle?"

Yes, yes he most certainly can.

♡ hope you enjoyed.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz imagines #skz scenarios

2K notes · View notes

ambermeh · 21 days

Text

Chris Sturniolo Firsts

⋆ His first crush: does not really know how to act around you and will become the most nervous and giggling person ever. This man will just want to talk to you. Especially if you two are friends and he has feelings. 'why don't you come over, i'll get the food' 'chris it's two in the morning'

⋆ He will drop subtle hints and play it off as joke because he doesn't want you to know or him to have to tell you 'outfit looks good ma might have to fight the other guys for you' 'shut up chris, what are you even talking about?'

⋆ As much as he pretends to be a player around you or jokes that all the girls love him, he cannot even look or think at a women in the same way after having a crush on you for a while. To the point you will be at a party somewhere and you will try and set him up with someone as a joke but he is dead serious and will act pissed off if you mention it. 'what's wrong I was just trying to help you find a girlfriend' 'yeah, well maybe I don't need help'

⋆ as you two are spending more an more time together you start having the same feelings and talk to Matt and Nick about it because they know Chris the best 'i think you should just go for it' 'i mean if chris says no he literally has lost his mind'

⋆His first relationship: when he finally builds up the courage to say it I think he would make a whole romantic surprise. For example, you get back from a week long holiday and he realises how much he actually likes you and so makes you find these clues etc and will be waiting for you at the end with a bunch of flowers. (Nick and Matt were also made to help because he would be stressing about doing something wrong)

⋆ The dates would be the funniest thing ever because he will randomly think of things he wants to do and there is page on his notes of all the dates he wants to do with you

⋆ Even though he will act like he doesn't like the romantic shit that other people do he LOVES it

⋆ Want to bake cookies and eat them while watching a romcom, sure. Want to do skincare and put make up on him, 100%. and the TIKTOKS that he would post would be so cute because he is literally just in awe of you. Does anything that you want really.

⋆ Just wants to make sure he is still the funniest person ever in your eyes. I feel like he would randomly show you videos while you two are just cuddling just to make sure you find them funny and will text you at the most random time with a joke he thought of 'well you could always show me when i'm not trying to get to sleep' 'sorry it was too funny not to'

⋆ First pet: it would be a cat because even if he didn't love the idea at first he would slowly start to be persuaded by the tiktoks of cute and funny cats. The cat would have to be a ginger cat or black cat because I think he would want one that matched his energy. Gets it as a kitten and was all I'm not going to get too attached to the cat BUT when it starts cuddling him at night he will act like it's his child 'I'm gonna stay at home because I can't leave him alone thinking I've left' 'thought you said it was my cat'

⋆ First child: The sweetest Dad ever

⋆ Will want to play sports with them all the time and dress them in outfits 'y/n i'm gonna go out and play some basketball with the kids i'll be back soon love you!!!'

⋆ Records everything because he thinks they are too cute not to. (and sends them all to you) 'Say hello to mummy for me, look y/n she's walking'

⋆ is that Dad who no matter what supports their child, you will never hear Chris comparing them to any other child because he loves them for who they are

⋆ AND even if you two are tired with having kids Nick and Matt are more than up for having them over, while you and Chris just eat a meal or watch a movie together. The love that you two have for each other is even more now that you have a family. 'we are parents now, I'm so proud of us' 'I know and at least we are not one of those boring couples' 'how could we be? I'm hilarious and you are so beautiful and funny and smart and' 'Chris shut up' 'you're blushing ma'

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

288 notes · View notes

noroi1000 · 1 year

Note

Yo, hear me out! Yandere Gojo and Geto x reader. Please make this happens, I love yanderes.

Where have you been?

Summary: Shoko asked you to come to her. You were in a hurry, and you forgot to let your boyfriends know. And they are obsessed with you. They are overprotective and also terribly jealous. You're supposed to spend time with them. Words: 2k

Warnings: yandere

You've had a hard day.

And it was all going to get even worse.

You knew exactly about the great jealousy of your boyfriends.

You were surprised that they somehow tolerated you being with them.

Since they were so jealous of everything.

These two were able to take your hands off your neighbors nice cat.

Because your hands can only stroke them. Only their bodies.

You've known them for a long time, and you didn't mind that it was. They love you. And you love them both. The fact that they are jealous and possessive shows that they care about you and are interested in what you do.

Even though they exaggerate sometimes...

Possessive, obsessed with your safety and where you go. Jealousy and other possessive and obsessive behaviors.

You still love them. You don't mind because it makes them both happy.

This makes them both provide you with love and happiness.

They're normal, loving guys until someone picks you up or you suddenly run away and they don't know where you've been.

That was right now.

You didn't mind that they told you to inform them every time you went somewhere.

Well, that makes sense. Because once you didn't tell them, they were standing outside the door waiting for you to come back because none of them took the keys to the house.

They have made your life pleasant and full of love.

It's not surprising that you've been in a long relationship with them already.

Compared to people who have normal relationships, yours is different. And not just because there are three people in your relationship.

When you came up with descriptions of "dere" people. And you've noticed that your boys display everything a "Yandere" person shows.

You liked anime so you didn't find it strange that you really saw it in them.

And it was true. That description perfectly described what they are.

Maybe people may have thought your relationship was toxic.

There was no betrayal or anything.

Their love was just obsessive.

But you weren't afraid. Because they love you. You didn't see anything wrong with it.

It was a sign that they love you so much.

That's why you knew you had to face their questions: where were you, why didn't you tell them?

Or what is always: who were you with?

They are jealous that you can spend time with someone else, and that someone can come much closer to you than they should. Especially a man.

You don't find their possessiveness toxic.

They care about you.

Sometimes a little too much.

And you want them to be happy.

Because the way they act sometimes can be scary.

Even if it looks like that, they won't hurt you. They might be pissed off or ask you about everything. Even if most have nothing to do with all of this.

You left the house today without a plan.

You don't work because they said you shouldn't work.

For them, you're supposed to sit at home and don't think about doing anything. You just need to be there with them.

You can't argue with them if what they say is better for you than what you say.

For example, if one of them tells you not to go to a very stressful place, when you say you have to go, they will tell you what is better for you.

It's as if they have some instinct telling them something is wrong.

They once told you that sometimes when you weren't home, they had a bad feeling.

Like when Shoko offered you drinks without telling you how much alcohol was in it, and you almost fell over on the way home, even though you weren't that drunk.

Or when they saw that you weren't feeling too well and then went shopping, they had a feeling that something might happen. That you'll pass out or feel bad enough to go to the hospital.

Even if it wasn't anything serious. It might have been a cold, but they were worried anyway.

Their jealousy and the whole "yandere" behavior stemmed mainly from their overprotectiveness.

And the fact that they could care for you and be your boyfriends turned into possessiveness that crosses borders already so much.

You are not afraid of them, even though they are so powerful. They would never hurt you.

They just want to keep you for them.

There's no way they're going to hurt you.

They will only give you all their love if you are completely theirs.

You've heard them say that you "belong to them" more than once.

Honestly, you don't feel bad in those words.

However, you were ready for all these questions from them, and again this possessive behavior when you were about to enter the house.

Shoko called you to come see her.

You thought something bad had happened. That's why you ran out of the house, even forgetting your phone to reach her.

Thus, you forgot to inform them.

When they saw you weren't home, they didn't know if they were pissed or disappointed.

Their only thought is to bring you back home as soon as possible.

They even thought you might have run away from them.

And that would be a blow to their heart.

Not just because you ran away from them. But also because they would have to drag you home and keep you there.

They wouldn't mind locking you in the house to come home from work every day and see you there. And you won't come out.

But for your sake, they wanted you to live with them voluntarily.

That's why they were happy when you said you loved them. And you showed it to them.

It was just great for them.

Say you're theirs and be with you every day. And you tell them straight out that you love them.

While you were away, they were paranoid.

They started imagining something.

Well, you were with Shoko.

She was going through something like a one-day existential crisis.

She was overworked, she was drunk and she was smoking her third pack of cigarettes when you came to her house.

She laughed, then spoke normally, then sounded like she was about to fall asleep.

Back then, her house wasn't a dream place to sleep.

The rooms were filled with cigarette smoke, the smell of which burned the nose so strongly that anyone who entered there could wince.

Shoko never smoked light cigarettes...

In order not to watch what she does with herself instead of sleeping, you did everything to make her relax and fall asleep.

Probably today was the day she wanted to get drunk, lie on the couch drunk and smoke cigarettes. Then go to work like a zombie.

You opened the windows in her house to get rid of the excess smoke. Even if the smell of cigarettes was still in the room, you at least wanted fresh air.

The smell of smoke is difficult to remove. That's why every time Suguru wants to smoke, you tell him to go to the balcony or outside.

You don't want your freshly laundered clothes to smell good. Even if one of your boyfriends doesn't smoke often. Because he's not addicted to it.

Not like Shoko has been for a while. When she quit smoking, it was different. And now she's back to it because she has fond memories of her smoking days.

You opened the windows of her house, gave her a lot of water and took the alcohol from her. And then you washed her face and neck with a damp washcloth until you finally took her to bed to let her go to sleep.

Then you started walking home. But you noticed that it was already late. Evening.

You knew you had to come home quickly.

Because you've already been in trouble.

You've been waiting for a long time in which you'll have to calm them down.

And when you pulled the handle to open the door, everything was open.

Which meant Satoru and Suguru were already home.

You sighed, knowing that the calm aura of the house was about to turn into something darker.

And to make it look better, you decided to call them.

"Satoru? Suguru?"

You looked around to see that the only light in the house was the one coming from the window that showed the sunset.

"Where have you been?"

You heard a voice and quickly turned around.

You saw Suguru standing next to the stairs from which Satoru was just coming down.

There was a can of soda in his hand, and he looked like he just got out of the shower. Hair loose and combed, clean clothes.

Satoru slumped against the stair railing, staring out the window.

They both weren't looking at you. They weren't smiling.

Suguru's hand went up, hooking his fingers on the sunbeams falling inside. Causing his fingers to be lit and the rest of his hand not.

"Did you have fun without us?" he asked, knowing the sun was going down. "It's sunset, you know? You haven't given us any message."

"Suguru, I'm sorry, I was rushing to see Shoko. I forgot my phone. And she called me so urgently. I thought something happened to her."

"Couldn't you text us before you left?" Satoru asked suddenly. Looking at you with cold blue eyes.

"I'm sorry... If I wasn't in a hurry, I'd definitely do it..." You said quietly, and walked over to Suguru, wanting to hug him. But you didn't know if he would let you..

Against all odds, he set his drink down the stairs behind him, and placed his hands on your shoulders.

Which meant you could hug him.

"I understand that could be the case. Besides, Shoko wrote to me that you will be staying with her. However, we believe you more than anyone else." he said hugging you tight. Enough to make you feel a little overwhelmed. It was still a nice hug though. "Satoru is less calm. Because he only found out about it an hour ago when he came home."

"Satoru." You muttered with your cheek pressed against Suguru's chest.

"I thought you ran away." He said with his arms folded across his chest. "Looking for you wouldn't be so much trouble... However, how would you feel if I took you back home by force?"

You looked at the floor.

You really shouldn't upset them.

"Here is your place. With us. And unfortunately, you can't leave whenever you like."

"You are ours. You will not belong to anyone else. Only us."

You smiled slightly at Satoru to see how his face changed.

And he, seeing your smile, came closer with a relaxed face.

You don't mind how they behave. Just do not.

His hands cupped your body, hugging you from behind. They held you gently but possessively. Showing you that they care about you. That they love you.

You may even be afraid of it when they are like this. However, your one smile is enough to calm them down.

They won't let you go. But your one smile, and they don't need to worry.

Because when you smile, it means you're happy.

Their faces were on your arms.

Their lips pressed against your neck on either side.

Even though they were hugging you, you felt their bodies pressing against you. Their warmth.

You only flinched as their teeth bit into your neck.

And you only heard two sounds in your ears. Two voices whispering to your heart.

"You belong to us... And it always will be like this... We're not mad at you, but how about we lock you up here with us now. That you can't go out. And for the next few hours, you won't be able to move away from us."

#gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk x you #gojou satoru x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #yandere geto x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader

1K notes · View notes

piaduarte · 29 days

Text

Q & A

persisting, the 4D and letting go

Not so long ago I became stuck in a loop of wanting and waiting. Weeks passed by like minutes, and I was desperate to "get" what I "wanted"-- real desperate, I tell you. But one way or another, loops end. They do. Even if it doesn't seem like it in the moment, they always pass, and your higher self shines through. These are a couple of questions I had while at my lowest, and my answer to them now. Hope this post may be useful to someone!!

"How do I persist even if I don't see anything?"

"You just persist" is what I've been told time and time again. "Yeah, but how?" is what I shot back. And silence followed. Paraphrasing, there's this quote by Einstein I've seen around here saying that, it's when you sit with yourself in the silence you're so desperate to fill up, when you stop looking for answers, that's when you get them. It doesn't matter how many times people here tell you to persist (to decide, to know it's yours) if, when you close the app, you forget everything and go right back to the old story. Why keep entretaining a story that you don't like? It's like if you're watching a really bad movie -- you can just turn it off.

You are able to persist. It's not something supernatural that only a handful of people can do. Everyone persists in something. You are persisting in the old story, for example. "B-But... Why??? Why is my subconscious doing this to me? I want to change!! I do!". This is so silly. Why are you mad at your subconscious? There's no 'good' or 'bad' (or 'ugly') story, that's just something you add the meaning to later. Your subconscious doesn't know the difference.

In the end, it all comes down to choosing. Just one final choice (do I even need to tell you that you're the creator of all? You must know by now). When you choose -- when you accept that you have it in the 4D once you imagine it, that's who you are. And once you've chosen, you cannot just give it up. You don't need proof in the 3D when the 4D is the only reality that should matter right now. Accept that you have it and move on. Creation is finished.

"And how do I convince myself it's set in stone?"

Close your eyes right now and imagine whatever it is that you "want". You can see it. You've just experienced it within, you can't deny that. That being said, you now know creation is finished. It's done. Done. Done. Done.

The 4D is the only true reality. It's the blueprint, nothing would exist in your 3D if it wasn't for it, your old assumptions, thoughts and ideas. For you. All you need and want already exists within you. Your desires are not separate from you, so you can experience them within; your mind is not separate from you, so you can change your old patterns; your 3D is not separate from you, so you can control it! You are the 3D and the 4D, just -- different, in another form.

The 3D is not real; it is a reflection of your mind! It may feel real, look real... But just because you see from it, not beyond it; the body is experiencing the 3D, but it's when you start to look at it from the 4D that you can understand that and take it in. All you need is the 4D. And, within, you've already experienced your desire, and you don't need anything else in order to experience materialization. It is set in stone if you decide it is -- so choose.

"I want to experience 'x' now. What do I do everyday in order to get it?"

No. There's no "getting". There's no "in order to". There's no "want". From the moment you get involved in the imaginal act, creation is finished, and 'x' is already experienced. Therefore, it's done. If you're not focusing on the end, but rather on the "I want", you're in a state of lack. Shift your state. Why not? It's not hard; you're in a state now. But I get it. You want the -- 'real' experience in the 3D? You want everyone on here to stop talking in riddles and tell you what to do, because random people on the internet have more power over you than... you? Aren't you tired of chasing? Of trying? Maybe not -- enough.

But seriously, if you "want" "it" "now", persist in the knowing and go to sleep. Tell yourself it's done and it's done. Persist in the old story and that's what you "get". Persisit in the new one, and your reality shifts. After all, "nothing changes if nothing changes". Don't allow any other thought to distract you from the end. Just -- don't. Thoughts come and go, and doubts will come as well; observe them and let them go. The end will materialize in the 3D because it has already materialized in the 4D. The inner man is your true you, so be him. Be unbothered by the neutral 3D and focus on living as the inner man.

"Is this fail-proof? How do I know I'm not just wishing my life away?"

It's real if you assume it is! Now get off this app and do something! Because, who's going to do it for you? Be the inner man and continue being! It will happen! Trust yourself. Trust. Why not?

#manifesting #loa #manifesation #law of assumption #how to manifest #law of manifestation #master manifestor #law of attraction #desired life #dream life #affirm and persist #edward art #neville goddard #affirmyourreality

379 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // FIVE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You visit Ember Island with Jia-Li and grow closer with her and her brother. Everything comes to a head, though, when a party on the island goes wrong.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.4k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: would you guys believe if i said i thought we’d already know reader’s real identity this many words into the fic?? anyways enjoy the fun times while they last folks because trust it will be getting angsty at some point probably

Dear Zuko,

I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you angry with me. Please forgive me. I don’t want you to be upset.

Sincerely, Ursa

P.S. Destroying Chan’s house was wrong, but since it was him, I won’t chide you. Jia-Li and I also participated a bit, so it would be hypocritical, anyways.

P.P.S. I’m not friends with Ruon-Jian anymore.

Though you had been at sea for quite a bit of time now, you still had not grown bored of staring at the ocean. Jia-Li had sat back down under the shade of the silk canopy a while ago, eating a bowl full of ice cream and watching you in amusement as you stood at the prow and peered down into the water.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said.

“You’ve said that like a hundred times,” Jia-Li teased you.

“I know, I just…I just can't get over it. I’ve never seen anything quite so blue,” you said, though this was somewhat a lie. That blue from your memories, it resembled this water in depth, though not in texture — the water was clear and lucid, whereas the blue you remembered was harsh and matte.

“I guess I should be glad that you’re enjoying yourself already! Just think about it — you haven’t even gotten to Ember Island yet, and you’re having so much fun. Imagine how much better it’ll be once you’re there!” Jia-Li said.

“I can’t wait,” you said dreamily. “As long as we can go swimming, I’ll be happy.”

“Of course,” she said. “We’ll swim every day! My brother wrote to me, he said that the tides have been forgiving this season. Maybe I can convince him to teach you how to ride the flying dolphin fish. He always shoos me away whenever I ask, but it’s impossible to hate you, Ursa, so he’ll definitely say yes.”

You had been growing accustomed to that name. It still felt like an alias at times, but it was a familiar one, said around you so often that you barely even hesitated before responding to it.

“It’s fine if he doesn’t,” you said. “Though it would be nice to learn something like that…”

“Maybe you should ask him!” Jia-Li said. “There’s no way he can refuse then!”

“I wouldn’t want to be imposing,” you said immediately, shaking your head. “He shouldn’t have to do something just because he’s too guilty to say no.”

“No, I was more thinking along the lines of ‘you’re pretty and he doesn’t say no to pretty girls’, actually,” she said. “He’ll be happy to oblige you, but if it’s a request from his little sister, he’s likely to say no just to be contrary.”

“We’ll see,” you said after ruminating on it for a second. “Also, thank you for the compliment.”

“It’s just the truth,” Jia-Li said. “But since we’re on the subject — I know you don’t have memories, so you can’t answer about your past life, but what about recently? Have you had a crush on someone before?”

“A crush?” you said.

“Yeah! I mean, have you ever liked anyone?” she said.

“I like a lot of people,” you said. “For example, you and Ty Lee.”

“No, silly, not in that way. I mean liking someone romantically,” Jia-Li elaborated. “I know a few of the boys in the Royal Fire Academy for Boys have been talking about you, so I was just curious.”

“Oh!” you said, covering your face with your hands so that she could not see the embarrassment blooming on it. “I didn’t know that they were.”

“Sure, of course they are! They talk about a lot of us, so it makes sense, and anyways I wasn’t lying when I said you’re pretty. They’re all too scared to actually talk to you, but I’m sure that if you went to the market alone and met one of them, they’d propose on the spot,” she said.

The academies for girls and boys had separate campuses, but they were run conjointly, so that your breaks aligned and your events were held in tandem. Though you tended to avoid attending sporting matches, you had gone to one or two in your time as a student, so you supposed that must’ve been when you had become a viable prospect for whatever nonsense Jia-Li was spouting.

“I don’t talk to any boys,” you pointed out. “Even if any of them like me, I don’t know them, so I can’t say I like them back.”

“You talk to the prince a lot,” she said.

“What?” you said.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice how often you send letters to him via Bian?” she chided. You coughed uncomfortably.

“Um, well, he is my benefactor, so I have to keep him updated with my day-to-day activities,” you said. “It’s, er, part of my scholarship, you know.”

It was not, but Jia-Li seemed to buy the lie readily enough, nodding sagely, though not without a dramatic pout.

“That does check out, but it’s not nearly as exciting as a secret love affair or letters written out of pining and sent with longing, stamped with your heart’s greatest desire for a man that can never be your own!” she said.

“Sorry?” you said. “I don’t think any of that fits the situation, though.”

She sighed. “It’s okay.”

“What about you? Do you have any crushes?” you said, recognizing that this was the logical next step in the conversation. Jia-Li blushed and looked at the wooden paneling of the deck, using her fingers to twirl the hair which escaped her ponytail to frame her face.

“Yes,” she said. “Kind of. But it’s someone who I shouldn’t like, and who would never like me back, so I’ve never said anything.”

“Who?” you said. “Your family is pretty influential, isn’t it? I can’t imagine most anyone rejecting you. Unless you like Prince Zuko and are projecting your ‘heart’s greatest desire for a man that can never be your own’ onto me?”

“No way!” Jia-Li said. “It’s more complicated than him being of a higher ranking than me.”

“Then what is it?” you said.

“He’s my brother’s best friend!” she said, all in a rush, her entire face in flames at the confession.

“Oh,” you said, cringing in empathy. “I see. He would not approve?”

“Definitely not,” she said. “But there’s something worse than him not approving: marrying this boy would mean having Kaho as a sister-in-law!”

“Oh, Agni,” you said, slapping your palm against your forehead. How had you forgotten? It was the only reason Jia-Li was somewhat exempt from Kaho’s reign of terror, despite her association with you: her brother and Kaho’s were best friends. But if she liked Kaho’s brother, then what would that mean?

“That’s the scenario,” she said. “And to top it all off, he’s notoriously popular with girls. He probably wouldn’t even look at me twice. I’ll always just be Ruon-Jian’s annoying little sister to him.”

“I doubt that that’s true,” you said as you approached the docks. “Really, Jia-Li, I don’t think that's the case. You said his family will be on Ember Island at the same time as us?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Although Kaho mentioned not being able to come — something about volunteering as a scribe for some official meeting that the Fire Lord will be hosting over the weekend.”

“Perfect! That’ll be our goal, then,” you said.

“Huh?” she said.

“We’re going to get you noticed by your crush! Who cares about the consequences? Kaho and your brother can just deal with it, and if they have something to say, then they can talk to me,” you said.

“That’s nice of you to offer, but what would you even do?” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t know,” you said. “Talk to them, I guess. Kaho already doesn’t like me, so it’s not a tragedy if she hates me more, and I don’t know your brother that well, so if he and I don’t get along after that kind of conversation, it won’t be a great loss.��

“Do you really think we can do something like that?” she said.

“We have to try,” you said. “You deserve it, Jia-Li.”

“Thank you,” she said, swallowing. “You’re a really good friend, Ursa. If you ever change your mind and decide you do like Prince Zuko after all, just let me know—”

“Jia-Li!” you warned her, though the threat fell flat, as she only laughed in return.

Jia-Li’s home on Ember Island was close to the docks, and it was right on the water. She told you as you walked up the seashell-lined path that that stretch of sand was actually a private beach that belonged to her family, so you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone bothering you while you were there.

“Sometimes my brother goes to the bigger beach a little ways away, though,” she said. “They like seeing other people our age and hanging out with them and whatnot.”

“Maybe when I’m a little more confident, we can try it,” you said. “For now, I’m just glad we have our own space where I don’t have to be worried about embarrassing myself in case I drown or something.”

“I wouldn’t let you drown,” Jia-Li said. “But I’m fine with that plan. It’s not like I have some huge desire to be on a massively crowded beach with the others, so it’s not heartbreaking for me if we just stay here the whole time.”

“Now, now, not the whole time,” you said. “We have to leave the house at some point so we can meet this guy you like!”

“I’m still not so sure about that,” she said, pulling out a key from her pocket and using it to unlock the front door. “Now hush, I don’t need my brother overhearing us. We can talk more later tonight or something.”

“On it,” you said, pretending to seal your lips shut. She rolled her eyes before motioning you after her. Carefully, you stepped into the grand foyer, scuffing your shoes on the welcome mat to rid them of the sand. Jia-Li smiled in approval, presumably at your politeness, and you smiled back at her.

“Mother, father!” Jia-Li shouted. “Ruon-Jian! Ursa and I are here!”

Jia-Li’s mother peeked her head around the corner, nodding demurely at the two of you, though it was deeper and more reverent when it came to you. She looked exactly like Jia-Li, only a little older, her features aged, the cut of her face sharper.

“It is good to meet you,” she said. Her voice was musical and quiet, carefully controlled — it was the culmination of years of training as the wife of a high-ranking Fire Nation official. It was what you and Jia-Li and Kaho and Ty Lee would one day sound like, once you had graduated from the academy and were ready to enter society properly.

“And you as well, madam,” you said, clasping your hands, bowing your head slightly. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It is greatly appreciated.”

“You are so polite,” Jia-Li’s mother said, the slightest traces of happiness flickering over her face. “I am glad Jia-Li has such an exemplary friend to look up to.”

“Nice to see you, too, mother,” Jia-Li said. Her mother laughed, opening her arms.

“Come here, then,” she said. Jia-Li brightened, racing into her mother’s arms and hugging her. You looked away, feeling like you were intruding on the moment and wishing you had your own mother to embrace like that.

“Where’s father?” Jia-Li said. Her mother sighed.

“He and Admiral Chan were called back to the palace for some important meeting, so they’re not on the island for the moment,” she said.

“It must be the meeting Kaho is scribing for,” you said.

“Most likely,” Jia-Li said. “Do you think he’ll be able to come back before I leave for the academy again? I haven’t seen him in so long.”

“I’m not sure, darling,” her mother said. “If he is still in the capital by the time your boat leaves the docks, I will send him a message to stay in the capital and receive you before he returns.”

“Thank you,” she said. “What about Ruon-Jian? Where is he?”

“Oh, that boy, he’s being as troublesome as ever. I believe he’s locked in his room at the moment. Ruon-Jian! Please come downstairs and say hello to your sister and her friend!” her mother said. It was strange — even yelling, she sounded soft and polite, which should not have made sense but somehow did.

“Why?” a deep, grumbling voice said. There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, evidence that Jia-Li’s brother was on his way but wasn’t exactly happy about it. “I don’t wanna meet Jia-Li and her stupid friend — woah.”

Her brother was tall and willowy, with shaggy brown hair that fell into his face, giving him an effortlessly cool appearance. His eyes were the same color as Jia-Li’s, but that was about where their similarities ended. If you had seen him outside, without introduction, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that they were siblings in the first place.

“This is Ruon-Jian,” Jia-Li said when it became obvious that her brother wasn’t going to introduce himself. He was far too busy staring at something, his jaw dropped and his eyebrows raised, though when Jia-Li spoke, he was able to pull himself together, running his hand through his hair and then smirking.

“That’s right,” he said. “The name’s Ruon-Jian.”

“That’s what I just said,” Jia-Li said.

“What about you?” he said. You looked from side to side, wondering who he was talking to, and then you realized it was you, which meant that the thing he had been staring at was also…

“Ursa,” you said. “I’m Ursa.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about the attention. Maybe you liked it, or maybe you didn’t. It was strange and fluttering and unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach, and behind your back, you wrung your hands nervously.

“Ursa,” he said. “Great name. It’s as pretty as you are.”

“Um, I guess if I knew who my parents were, I’d pass along the compliment,” you said.

“Wicked,” he said. “So, what are you doing on Ember Island?”

“She’s my friend, idiot. My roommate from the academy,” Jia-Li said.

“Shh, Jia-Li, I’m trying to get to know her better! Stop talking and interrupting her,” Ruon-Jian said. You exchanged bewildered looks with Jia-Li’s mother, while at your side, Jia-Li fumed, the air shimmering from the heat she gave off as a Firebender.

“She’s right,” you said. “I’m her roommate back at school. She’s one of my greatest friends.”

“Sick,” he said.

“I don’t think I am,” you said, puzzled.

“It’s slang,” Jia-Li said.

“I understand,” you said, although you didn’t, not fully. This way of speaking was entirely foreign to you, but you figured that if you had Jia-Li with you to translate, you’d probably be alright.

“Who’s your family, Ursa?” Ruon-Jian said.

“I don’t have one,” you said.

“Word?” he said.

“He’s asking if that’s the truth,” Jia-Li whispered. “It’s like saying ‘really?’”

“It is the truth,” you said. “I have no memories. I am the girl that the royal family sponsored to study at the academy after I was rescued from the Earth Kingdom.”

“No way!” Ruon-Jian said. “That’s so cool!”

“Not really,” Jia-Li said. “She doesn’t remember anything. Including her family. Idiot.”

“If I could forget you, I’d do so in a heartbeat,” Ruon-Jian said.

“Well, I’d do the same!” Jia-Li snapped. You cleared your throat.

“I’m just grateful to Prince Zuko for saving me and ensuring my future,” you said. “He, and the rest of the royal family, are likely the reason I’m still alive and standing before you today.”

“Word,” Ruon-Jian said.

“I am not lying this time, either,” you affirmed.

“No, that was more of an expression of agreement,” Jia-Li said.

“I am a little confused,” you said. “But I shall trust you on this one, Jia-Li.”

“Do you have plans for the week?” Ruon-Jian said.

“Jia-Li is going to teach me to swim,” you said, beaming at Jia-Li, who gave you a high-five in return. “Beyond that, no, not really.”

“We were going to ask you if you could teach her to ride the flying dolphin fish,” Jia-Li said. “I know you’d never teach me, but—”

“Definitely!” Ruon-Jian said, cutting Jia-Li off. “I’ll teach you anything you want, Ursa.”

Heat rushed into your face, and you bit your lower lip, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Glancing at Jia-Li, who shrugged, you trained your attention on the ground instead of looking at Ruon-Jian when you responded.

“I think that that would be fun,” you said.

“We’ll get started tomorrow,” he said.

“Ruon-Jian, usually I’m joking when I say it, but you really are an idiot! How can you teach her to ride flying dolphin fish if she doesn’t even know how to swim?” Jia-Li said.

“The day after tomorrow, then!” Ruon-Jian declared. “See you around, Ursa!”

With that, he bounded back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, leaving you, Jia-Li, and her mother standing in the foyer, somehow even more confused than before.

The next day was somehow sunnier and brighter than the previous, which was a relief, as it was the day you were supposed to learn to swim. At present, you were wearing one of Jia-Li’s sets of swimming clothes, your towel spread out on the sand as you looked at the ocean with furrowed brows.

“You ready?” Jia-Li said.

“I think so,” you said.

“Let’s go!” she said. Without waiting for you, she charged into the water, flopping onto her stomach once it was deep enough for her to do so. Not even taking a second to think, you sprinted in after her, and when the water rose to the level of your thighs, you didn’t second-guess yourself. Using your legs to push off, you dove into the water, jetting through it, forcing your eyes open and laughing soundlessly as you wove amongst the flowing bubbles and colorful fish that decorated the ocean.

It was many seconds later that you pushed your way to the surface, taking a deep breath, your legs churning the water so that you stayed afloat. Some ways away, Jia-Li had done the same, though she was busily scanning the shore for where you might be.

“Jia-Li!” you called out. “Over here!”

“Ursa!” she said, clapping her hands in delight. “I guess you do know how to swim!”

“I guess so!” you said, overcome with a rush of euphoria at the weightless feeling the water afforded you. Jia-Li paddled over to where you were treading, doing the same beside you so that you two could talk.

“That means you can learn to ride the flying dolphin fish sooner rather than later,” she said slyly. You lowered your eyes.

“Maybe,” you said.

“I knew it!” she squealed. “You have a crush on my brother!”

“No!” you said, far too quickly to sound convincing. “I mean. No.”

“You do!” Jia-Li said. “I can’t understand why you’d ever have a crush on him, but I guess there’s really someone out there for everyone.”

“I don’t even know him,” you said. “Sure, he’s cool and all, but I don’t know the first thing about who he is as a person. How can I say for certain that I have a crush or anything?”

“That’s why you have to get to know him,” Jia-Li said, poking you in the forehead. “Right?”

“True,” you said. “Then I can tell you for certain how I feel. What about you, though?”

“What about me?” she said innocently.

“When will I get to meet this mysterious crush of yours? You can hardly expect to pursue him if you never even go to see him!” you said. She splashed you with water.

“I’m not about to just go visit his house for no reason! It would be weird,” she said.

“Maybe a little bit,” you said. “But there has to be a way for you to accidentally run into him! And when I say accidentally, of course it won’t be an accident at all, but it’ll appear to be one.”

“Just forget about it,” Jia-Li said. “It’s not a big deal. If it’s meant to be, something will come up.”

“If that’s what you want,” you said. “But you have to promise me that if something comes up, as you say it will, you’ll really try your hardest.”

“Okay,” Jia-Li said in determination. “If there is some opportunity for me to talk to him, I’ll do it.”

“That’s the way!” you said. “Now, let’s race. I want to see how fast I am, too.”

“First one to that bit of driftwood wins?” Jia-Li said, pointing at a smoothed-over log floating in the distance.

“You’re on,” you said. “Three, two — hey, I didn’t say go yet! Jia-Li!”

You could not remember ever having as much fun as you did during that time on Ember Island. You and Jia-Li spent hours lazing around on the beach or swimming in the water, eating whatever her family’s chef prepared for you, drinking fruit juice that was sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, oftentimes both. At night, you would stay up until the moon was high in the sky, giggling and exchanging secrets and stories, making fun of your classmates and the boys in the Royal Academy for Boys.

“You know, one of them has a shrine dedicated to Kaho,” Jia-Li told you one night. You howled with laughter.

“No!” you said.

“Yes, he really does! He found a portrait of her and leaves money and food in front of it every week,” she said.

“You’re making that up,” you said.

“Nope, I found out during one of the sporting matches,” she said. “I was a little disgusted, but now that I see the humor in it, I confess I’m entirely amused by the entire thing.”

You would sleep late into the day, sometimes missing the morning entirely and only waking up for the afternoons. Jia-Li’s mother never scolded you two for it, saying that she was happy you were catching up on your rest, since dark circles were not comely on a woman or something along those lines.

Sometimes, Ruon-Jian would spend a few minutes with you both, but for the most part, he was off with Chan, his best friend and Kaho’s older brother. When he was with you, he was usually sitting at your side, making fun of his sister and complimenting you all at once. And even though you barely knew him, you had to admit that it was nice to have someone paying such close attention to you for once, treating you as if you were worthy of his time and entirely normal, the way he was, instead of tiptoeing around you and your lost memories.

“You ready, Ursa?” Ruon-Jian said, plopping down on the bench beside you as you and Jia-Li ate breakfast — or was it lunch, at this point?

“For what, Ruon-Jian?” you said, batting your eyelashes at him. From across the table, Jia-Li pretended to gag.

He elbowed you in the side. “To learn to ride flying dolphin fish, of course!”

“Yes!” you said, shooting to your feet. “I thought you’d forgotten!”

“How could I forget about you?” he said. “The currents just haven’t been right for a beginner recently. You should’ve seen how badly Chan wiped out the other day!”

You glanced at Jia-Li. She mimed falling over, and you gave her a discreet thumbs up.

“You didn’t fall, though, did you?” you said. Ruon-Jian beamed and flexed his arms.

“’Course not. I’m way better than Chan,” he bragged.

“Very impressive. Then there must be no one in the Fire Nation more equipped to teach me,” you said.

“Not a single person,” he agreed.

“I can’t bear to watch any more of this,” Jia-Li muttered to no one in particular. “You guys have fun. I’m going to collect our clothes so that they can get washed, Ursa.”

She left without another word, though as she walked away, you thought you caught her saying something about how you could do better. Ignoring it, you followed after Ruon-Jian towards the beach behind his house, struggling to keep up with his brisk stride.

“There’s a pod of flying dolphin fish that visits our beach pretty regularly,” he said. “We should be able to catch a ride there.”

“Okay,” you said. “Is it safe?”

“We’ll ride the same one, so I can look after you, but on the whole, flying dolphin fish are very docile, so as long as the waves are gentle, it’s fine,” he said. “That’s why I’ve been waiting to take you out.”

“That sounds good,” you said. He whistled.

“That’s how we call them. Now, we just have to wait until they come,” he said, pulling you forward to stand beside him.

“Then what?” you said.

“It’s a surprise,” he said. “Just kidding! Then we swim out and find the friendliest one and get on.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually, in the distance, there were splashes. Ruon-Jian whooped in delight, grabbing your hand and dragging you after him before you could protest.

“They were fast today!” he said. “Let’s go before they decide to leave again!”

Ruon-Jian was a little faster than you at swimming, though you had been faster than Jia-Li. You didn’t feel insulted, though; he spent much of his time in the ocean, so it was to be expected that he was better than both you and his sister alike. The end result was that he reached the flying dolphin fish before you, and had already mounted one by the time you swam up to its side.

“How do I get on?” you said.

“You don’t,” he said, using his legs to hold onto the body of the flying dolphin fish and then bending over to pull you out of the water and set you in front of him.

“Thanks,” you said, suddenly very aware of how close he was to you, how he held onto your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Just rest your hands on its head,” he said. “Like that. Good job! I’ll do all the steering and stuff with my legs, so don’t worry about that for now. All you have to do is focus on your balance.”

“Got it,” you said.

“Then let’s get going!” he said, clicking at the flying dolphin fish, which took off with a push of its powerful tail, propelling itself through the water. Its speed was breathtaking, and as the wind rushed against your face, tears gathered in your eyes, tears of joy and freedom and also of regret. When was the last time you had felt like this? When was the last time you had been so happy? Why didn’t you endeavor to be so more often?

Suddenly, the flying dolphin fish took off into the air, and then you were soaring. Everything faded away, the rest of the world and Ruon-Jian and the flying dolphin fish and even you. It was all nothing. You were all nothing. There was only the sky and the sea and the smell of salt on the wind, blue taking over your vision and almost, for a second, reminding you of something else.

Then you were slamming back into the water, the flying dolphin fish not even slowing its pace as it went from air to ocean. The spray that hit your face from the impact was enough to wake you up from the daze, and you were reminded of where you were and who you were and what you were doing.

“That was so fun,” you said as you and Ruon-Jian re-entered the house, still dripping with saltwater despite the towels wrapped around you both.

“It’s sick, right? I knew you’d like it,” Ruon-Jian said. “Speaking of things you might like…my friend Chan is holding a party later tonight. You wanna come?”

You perked up at the name Chan, knowing he was none other than the object of Jia-Li’s affections.

“Yes, but only if Jia-Li can come, too,” you said.

“Aw, no way! Chan never leaves her alone, and I don’t want my best friend bothering my little sister. It’s so odd!” he said.

“It’ll be really lonely for me to be at a party where I don’t even know anyone,” you said with a small frown.

“That’s fair,” he said.

“And she’s my friend, so it’ll be more fun for me if she’s there,” you continued. “That’s why I’ll only go if she can, too.”

“Okay, okay,” Ruon-Jian said. “Fine. She can come, too.”

“Yay! Thank you so much!” you said, clapping. “It’s going to be so much fun.”

“Sure will be,” he said. “You should go get ready, though. There’ll be a lot of influential people there, so you should try to look your best.”

“Of course,” you said. “See you soon!”

Luckily, Jia-Li had been right in assuming that you and her would be the same size. You had been wearing her clothes for the entire vacation, and tonight was no different, as she picked out something nice for you to put on for the party.

“Ursa, I’m convinced you’re a miracle worker,” Jia-Li said, shaking her head. “Seriously! How is it that you managed to get us invited to one of Chan’s parties? They’re super selective.”

“Simple. Your brother invited me, and I told him I’d only go if you could, too. He was initially a bit reluctant, since he seemed to think Chan wouldn’t leave you alone, but he came around,” you said.

“You’re the best,” she said.

“I honestly might’ve just said no from the get go, but I heard that Chan was hosting, and I knew we had to attend. This is literally the sign you were waiting for!” you said. “What are the odds that your brother would invite me to a party hosted by the man of your dreams?”

“Pretty high, considering he thinks you’re really attractive and the so-called man of my dreams is his best friend,” Jia-Li said. “But I know what you’re saying, and I agree. Enough about that, though. The only thing left is for us to do our best to look amazing!”

Because Ruon-Jian and Chan were best friends, you arrived at the party before anyone else so that you could help Chan set up. His house was enormous, according to Ruon-Jian, and he had said it would be greatly appreciated if you all could lend a hand. With a meaningful look at Jia-Li, you had accepted.

“I made sure that Chan knew what food you like, Ursa, so that he could serve it,” Ruon-Jian said, his arm tossed around your shoulders. “I want you to have the best time!”

“Aren’t you so romantic, brother?” Jia-Li said dryly.

“Thank you, Ruon-Jian,” you said.

“Anytime,” he said with a smirk.

“Ruon-Jian!” a tall, muscular boy said as he opened the door to the mansion. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“Jia-Li took forever getting ready, dude,” Ruon-Jian said. “By the way, Chan, this is Ursa. And Ursa, this is Chan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Chan said. “Did you say Jia-Li? Is she here?”

“I am,” Jia-Li from where she was hiding behind you and Ruon-Jian. “Hi, Chan.”

“Jia-Li! It’s been ages since I saw you last. How have you been?” Chan said, yanking her by the arm and into the house.

“Quit flirting with my sister!” Ruon-Jian shouted, though he went ignored by both Chan and Jia-Li. You patted him on the arm.

“It’s okay,” you said. “She doesn’t seem upset about it, so you shouldn’t be, either.”

“It’s just so freaky,” he said with a shudder. “Jia-Li’s my baby sister. She shouldn’t have guys interested in her, let alone guys that have been my best friend since I could count.”

“She’s grown up now,” you said. “She can make her own decisions. You should just support her.”

“If you think that’s what’s best,” he said reluctantly. “You’re pretty mature, you know.”

“It’s funny, I feel like I’ve heard that before, though I don’t quite recall who might’ve said such a thing,” you said. “It doesn’t matter; either way, thank you.”

Jia-Li and Chan were too busy talking with each other, and Ruon-Jian was too busy fixing his hair in the mirror, so the brunt of the party set up fell to you. You didn’t mind, though, liking the act of working, and you were so efficient that everything was ready right around dusk.

“The place looks great, Ursa,” Ruon-Jian said when you rejoined him in front of the mirror.

“Your hair does, too, so you can stop fiddling with it,” you said. He pulled you in by the waist, flashing a peace sign in the mirror.

“Don’t we look so good together?” he said. “It’s like…like you were meant to stand beside me.”

“I suppose so,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you would go so far as to say all that. Still, it was nice to know that someone thought you belonged with them, so when he began to lean in, you did not move away.

Right when his lips were about to brush against yours, there was a knock on the door. He drew back in irritation.

“Who is here this early?” he said. “Whatever. Where were we again?”

The moment was ruined, though, so you pretended to be preoccupied with straightening your clothes, your head tilted downwards so that he could not even catch your eye.

“These are some really punctual party guests,” you said. “No one else is here yet.”

“Yeah, punctual’s one word for it,” Ruon-Jian said, clearly taking the hint you had given him and hopefully not being too miffed about it. “Wait, it’s that group we invited when we were on the beach earlier! Should’ve known they’d be the type.”

“On the — Ty Lee?” you said.

The first one to enter, Ty Lee turned in search of whoever had said her name. When she noticed you standing beside Ruon-Jian, one of his arms still around your waist, your posture clearly still set towards him, her jaw dropped.

“Ursa?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I feel like that’s a question I should be asking you,” you said as she cartwheeled over to drag you away from Ruon-Jian and into a hug so tight you temporarily stopped breathing.

“We were just hanging out on the beach when we got invited to come by Chan and Ruon-Jian!” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here, too.”

“Ruon-Jian is Jia-Li’s older brother, and he’s best friends with Chan, so I think that my presence is a little more explicable than yours,” you said. “When you say we, though, who do you mean?”

“Me, Mai, Azula, and Zuko!” Ty Lee said, pointing at each of them in turn. Mai was sitting by a painting, glaring whenever someone tried to approach her, and the girl who must’ve been the infamous Princess Azula was talking to Chan while Jia-Li stood behind her, ostensibly shoved out of the way so that the princess could have her turn talking to the host.

As for Zuko, he was still awkwardly standing by the doorframe, though when he glanced over at you, his eyes widened. At first, relief filled them, but when he noticed your proximity to Ruon-Jian, a strange sort of malcontent settled over his expression.

“Zuko!” you said as he stormed over to you. Ty Lee looked at him and then back at you before promptly dashing over to Mai’s side, the only one who didn’t get glared at for daring to go near her. “What are you—?”

“Who is he?” he said.

“The name’s Ruon-Jian, dude,” Ruon-Jian said, holding out his hand for Zuko to shake. Zuko looked at it disdainfully before scoffing and then returning his gaze to you.

“He’s Jia-Li’s older brother,” you said.

“Right,” Zuko said sardonically. “That’s why the two of you are so close.”

“I’ve been staying at his house the whole time I’ve been on Ember Island, so yeah, it’s probably a contributing factor,” you said.

“I’m gonna go get some food, Ursa. There are some freaky vibes here right now that I don’t really approve of,” Ruon-Jian said, inching away.

“Do you like him?” Zuko said. You blinked, taken aback by the direct question. In his letters, he was so kind and tactful, so you had come to associate him with that sort of language. The elegance with which he wrote, the careful concern he always showed for whatever you said — all of it had caused a fondness for him to grow in you.

“He’s just my friend’s older brother,” you said. The way he was speaking now was as if he was accusing you and you had to defend yourself or face judgment, but what crime had you even committed in the first place? “He taught me to ride flying dolphin fish and invited me to the party. That’s all.”

“Of course,” he said. “He’s so cool, with his dumb hair and clothes and flying dolphin fish, so of course you like him. No surprise there.”

“Are you angry?” you said. “Why?”

“Am I angry?” he said. “No!”

“You sound a little angry,” you said meekly. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Why would it even matter to you?” he said.

“I don’t know?” you said. “I was only asking.”

“Don’t ask questions for no reason, especially when you don’t care about the answer in the first place,” he said.

“But that’s not the case. I did care about the answer, or else I wouldn’t have asked,” you said.

“Well, next time, just ask that boyfriend of yours,” he said.

“Ruon-Jian?” you said.

“Yes?” Ruon-Jian said, appearing out of nowhere. “Here, this is for you.”

“You have such horrible timing,” you said under your breath, accepting the plate he handed you. “Zuko, have you eaten anything yet? There’s a lot of really good food out. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“It’s all Ursa’s favorites!” Ruon-Jian said. “I made sure of it myself.”

“Oh, yeah?” Zuko said with a sneer. “What the hell do you know about her, anyways?”

“Yo, chill, dude,” Ruon-Jian said, holding his hands in the air. “Who even are you? I probably know more than you! Her and I are really close, you see.”

It was probably the worst thing he could’ve said. Zuko’s face darkened, and then, before any of you knew it, he was grabbing Ruon-Jian by the collar and throwing him into a nearby vase. You jumped at the noise before rushing over to help Ruon-Jian stand.

“I’m fine,” Ruon-Jian said, waving you off as he staggered to his feet. “What is your problem, dude?”

“Stay away from her,” Zuko said.

“Who are you to say that?” you said. “My benefactor? That doesn’t mean you get to control my life, Zuko! Why does it matter to you who I’m hanging out with? He’s from a perfectly respectable family, so it’s not like it’ll reflect badly on you. I don’t get what the big deal is!”

“Seriously?” Zuko said. “You think I care what family he’s from? Do what you want! It doesn’t matter to me. It’s what you’ll do anyways, so why should I try to stop you?”

“What happened?” you said. “Why has your opinion of me lowered so thoroughly? What have I done to offend you so greatly? I know that you are angry, and I know it is because of me, but I cannot understand why!”

“There’s a lot of things you can’t understand,” he said.

“I heard a crash, is everyone — who broke my nana’s vase?” Chan shrieked as he came back into the main room. Ruon-Jian pointed at Zuko. “You! I’ve had enough of you, alright? Get out of my party!”

“I was just leaving,” Zuko said, though not without one last glare at all of you.

“See you around, loser!” Ruon-Jian said.

“Jia-Li’s right,” you said as Mai, Ty Lee, and Princess Azula excused themselves as well. “You really are an idiot. Do you know who that was?”

“Some jealous loser?” Ruon-Jian said. You opened your mouth to argue before deflating, knowing that there was no point.

“Just forget about it. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves for the rest of the party,” you said.

Some time later, there was a knock on the door. Chan opened it, and then his face fell.

“Hello, Chan,” a voice that could only be Princess Azula’s said. “Thanks for inviting us earlier, but I have some unfortunate news to share.”

“The party’s over,” Zuko said, and then all four of them were in the room, sending bursts of fire everywhere, kicking the tables in half, swinging from the chandeliers and slicing up the paintings.

“What is going on?” Jia-Li shouted, covering her head with her hands.

“I have no idea,” you said. “Hey, what are you guys doing?”

Chan screamed as Mai threw a set of knives into a pair of antique paintings on the walls and the chandelier came crashing to the ground under Ty Lee’s weight. Jia-Li pulled you out of the way of a stray lick of blue fire from Azula, and you buried your face in your hands.

“This was a pretty terrible party,” Ty Lee said, dropping lightly to her feet in front of you. “You could say we’re showing our appreciation as guests!”

“By destroying his house?” you said as Zuko kicked an entire pillar in half.

“Yep! Wanna join?” Ty Lee said.

“No!” you and Jia-Li said in unison.

“To each their own!” Ty Lee said before springing away.

“Well…” Jia-Li said. “It would feel nice.”

“What? Why?” you said.

“I thought Chan was confessing to me on the balcony earlier, but it turns out that even though he does like me, he wants to live a free and unburdened life, without the commitment of having a girlfriend. He told me that the best he could offer me is a long-term arrangement in which he does what he wants and then spends some time with me whenever I’m on the island,” Jia-Li said.

“That’s horrible,” you said.

“And while I was out there, he told me that Ruon-Jian invited Mai and Ty Lee because he thought they were hot and he wanted a chance with them,” she continued. “So there’s that.”

You scowled, and even though you hadn’t been betrayed, it felt as if you had been. Naturally, you held no claim on Ruon-Jian, but the entire reason you had grown close to him in the first place was because you liked being someone’s priority. If you weren’t even that, then what was the point?

“Jia-Li,” you said. “Since it’s the prince and princess in charge of the destruction, you could consider it a royal order.”

“You could,” Jia-Li said, a grin creeping onto her face.

“And as students of the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, we are duty-bound to follow all royal orders,” you said.

“That we are,” she said.

“I think that means we have to participate,” you said.

“I think you’re right, Ursa,” she said.

“Of course, it’s not because we’re angry at Ruon-Jian or Chan or anything,” you said.

“Definitely not,” she agreed. “We’re just following in the prince and princess’s example.”

“That’s exactly correct,” you said. “After all, what are we but their humble and obedient servants?”

“Nothing, indeed!” Jia-Li said brightly. “All hail the royal family!”

With that, she ignited her hands and placed them right on a portrait of Chan as a child. You cheered before taking a steak knife and using it to cut up the curtains, tossing them into the fire she had started as kindling.

“I’m glad we’re friends, Ursa,” Jia-Li said.

“Yeah, I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

Ursa,

It wasn’t anything you did. I’m sorry; I was upset about something unrelated and took it out on you. You have no need to ask for my forgiveness — if anyone should be doing that, it’s me. Please, please forgive me for being so angry. I promise that I will make it up to you the next time we meet.

Yours, Zuko

P.S. I did not think that you and Jia-Li would join in, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed.

P.P.S. Ruon-Jian is ugly and his hair is terrible. You don’t need to be friends with him, anyways.

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

200 notes · View notes

genericpuff · 4 months

Note

Why is the art so unappealing in lore Olympus now Persephone looks like a highlighter and maybe it’s just me but the proportions like the fingers in arms are soul over the place I don’t think they used to be this bad. Am I just looking at it with nostalgia or am I crazy ?

Honestly, nostalgia does play a huge part in it, even to this day there are times I look back on old S1 panels and go-

Actually here's a great example that literally just happened yesterday in the ULO Discord that nearly had me on the floor LOL This is from Episode 70:

Like I didn't even believe that that was real until I was told what episode it was from and I was just. Astounded and flabbergasted. The over-shading of the blanket that just makes it look like a really bad edit. Insane.

And yeah, there are a lot of old panels that hit different now that the rose-colored glasses have been removed, crushed, and thrown into the trash compactor.

I think that's why it makes it all the more amusing when people come into my inbox and ask me "wait, why did you like LO to begin with?? It's always been ugly as shit, I think you're just romanticizing it" because like... there's something to be said about art and subjectivity, even if something is ugly to one person doesn't mean it isn't beautiful to someone else. It's why I try not to be too mean towards the fans of this comic for still enjoying it, because while I definitely have strong opinions about how "LO has gotten worse" and what kind of following Rachel has cultivated (cough cough), there are also just as equally valid arguments that LO has never begin good to begin with that I can't necessarily disagree with now that I'm looking back on it with a more critical eye.

That said, there's tons of media that I enjoy that is objectively awful. Like y'all, you don't need to take my opinions about a dumb pink x blue fantasy romance comic seriously, I like Starfox Adventures-

Like yeah it's a badly made rushed piece of shit that was developed right on the ass end of Rare's glory days and was really an original IP (Dinosaur Planet) that got Frankenstein'd into a Starfox game so it could "sell better" for Nintendo, but I don't give a fuck, I love Starfox Adventures and some day I wanna be in the top 10 speedrunner leaderboards for it, which I know doesn't mean much because no one is speedrunning Starfox, but I do and no one can take that away from me dammit-

Anyways. Lore Olympus has, in many regards, always had "bad art". But "bad art" can and should still be enjoyed by those who find joy in it.

And in LO's case, the world it existed in when it launched was a lot smaller than it is now - more specifically, the world of Webtoons. We can look back and see how 'bad' LO looks and reads now because there are genuinely way better comics surrounding it. It was unique and refreshing and experimental back then... now it's just "that stupid blue and pink comic for horny teenagers".

In most cases I would consider that "cringing in hindsight" feeling a good thing because normally it means something has grown and that it seeming "bad" in hindsight would mean that it's outgrown itself and moved onto bigger things. But LO has the more unique problem of "its current stuff is shit and it's making us want the old stuff more, even if the old stuff wasn't good either". In that regard, LO is closer to being like Harry Potter. Remember when The Cursed Child came out at the height of Rowling being exposed for being a TERF and even people who liked Harry Potter didn't like The Cursed Child because it was just objectively worse overall (with or without Rowling's bullshit attached)? It made a lot of people go back and re-read / rewatch Harry Potter with a more objective lens and go "wait a minute guys, I think we only adored these books so much because we were 12 when we read them". Often times it's the good memories we have surrounding certain things that make us have the opinion about them that we do.

Of course, LO is definitely not as politically weaponized as Harry Potter is, so that's where that comparison ends. But my point is that LO is definitely in a situation where it's been riding off the same privileges it had back in 2018 - having an 'experimental' art style while also utilizing tropes and characters that were VERY popular at the time (remember that 2017-18 was when Tumblr was at its height of H x P "Hades was a chill accountant guy who wore socks and sandals and didn't cheat on his wife like Zeus did" fantasizing) - and thinks that those same tricks and tropes will still work today.

Because of this, the art in LO really, really hasn't aged well, even the stuff that we look back on fondly. But I think it's the panels that we specifically think of when remembering "old LO" - the ones that stuck in our memories the most - that are the ones that make us miss or just not care about the panels that don't look good (the panels that make people question why we ever liked it to begin with).

We liked it because of how it made us feel to look at panels like these-

Those genuinely wonderful panels that we think back on the most don't exist separately from the bad panels, they exist in spite of them. Even if we can look back on panels like these and pick out problems in the lineart or the proportions or the color travelling outside of the lines, that can't and shouldn't change how those panels made us feel at some point or another. And that's why when people ask me "why were you even into LO in the first place" I don't have any one answer, because I can't fully explain how something made me feel to justify why it's good to someone who can see from the outside - without rose-colored glasses - that it evidently isn't. It's very much a "you had to be there" type of thing.

Unfortunately, nowadays even the 'best' LO panels in S3 still don't come close to what the S1 panels accomplished - because for many of us, the rose-colored glasses are gone, we can't appreciate the good among the bad because we know now how bad it truly is and so the good just feels like wasted attempts at trying to recreate something it can no longer be. It "came back wrong" so to speak.

LO came back just regular. But our journey to resurrecting it changed us to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to us. Sorry dude.

This is still probably one of my favorite panels out of the entirety of S3 for being as close to "old LO" as I've seen since S2, and even it feels like a mistake, an accident, how could a panel like this exist in S3 when so much of it is a dumpster fire? It's like a flower growing in the ruins of an apocalyptic wasteland.

But wasn't that always the case? Isn't that 'always' what LO has been, since the very beginning? A poorly cobbled together mess of writing and panels that, every now and then, manages to leave an impression that makes you feel something? Did we ever truly know LO? Or have we just been relying entirely on an idea of it that we've built up in our heads that when it does do exactly what it's evidently always done (even if not made apparent until looking back on it in hindsight) we think it "came back wrong"?

#anyways sorry that was a way deeper response than it oughta have been #welcome to the AMA roulette game of “ask puff a simple question which they may or may not respond to with an introspective essay"#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

151 notes · View notes

xjulixred45x · 7 months

Text

Big Bro Gojo! Reader find out about Megumi and Tsumiki. Ft Kugisaki and Itadori!

This part is pretty long!

First part for context

first of all, thanks to @shootinglove14 for giving me the idea for this adorable drabble, thanks sweetie!

Now, moving on to the topic, I think Big Bro Reader would know about Megumi's existence shortly after he has his talk with Satoru (after the breakup of KFC) and confesses that, that Touji told him that he had a son, as if He would wait for his brother to tell him what he should do. Big Bro at first, I'm not going to lie, is too angry at Touji for almost killing his little brother to think clearly, so he tells him to do what he thinks is right.

which in Satoru's mind translated to: "do what your brother would have done" and knowing that under normal circumstances Big Bro Reader would not hesitate to take in a child in need (ESPECIALLY if Big Bro already has children of his own) Satoru He decides that he will do the same.

so, he goes to get Megumi (and additionally Tsumiki), takes them with him and introduces them to his older brother as the children he had been telling them about :D (completely ignoring the fact that he warned him with, like, 5 minutes of before they arrived and that it was supposed to be just ONE SON)

but as soon as Big Bro Reader sees them, any kind of dislike towards Touji or resentment IS CRUSHED and replaced with pity when he sees how small they are, he very much regrets having thought the way he did when he saw how they lived, and begins to treat them like his normal friendly self, almost like his own children.

As Megumi and Tsumiki grow up, Big Bro reader is a very important figure in their lives, mainly because he has the tact that Satoru doesn't have, he is cuddly without being annoying, he is much more respectful, how could they not love him? especially in the case of Megumi, who tries to help him with his abandonment issues.

With Tsumiki he becomes close through things like housework, Reader is a deconstructed man, he helps his wife and Tsumiki in everything he can😤 and even teaches her some tricks that he has learned in the Gojo house (cooking, laundry, embroidery, self-defense, the man is a box of surprises).

overall Tsumiki sees her friendly personality supported by someone like Big Bro reader who is almost the same. She sees him as a great man and definitely a good example of a man, father and husband.

Megumi, as I already said, likes Big Bro Reader more in the sense that he has much more tact and respect for what others say, that already gives him many points, but he also gets attached very quickly to him because of how good he is. general that he is, but he doesn't take shit from anyone. Big Bro reader will be gentle, yes, but he can't stand disrespect and is definitely someone who can hold a grudge, can empathize with it.

but Big Bro's fatherly and uninterested attitude was definitely what made him love him so much, they can bond through things like board games, Big Bro teaches him how to be a gentleman, go out to parks together with the Divine dogs, teach them Gojo clan techniques, etc.

By the time they grow up, they see Big Bro Reader as a kind of secondary father, but if Big Bro already has children, they will be their guardians and help Reader take care of them. when Tsumiki happens, Reader is the FIRST to run to the hospital and comfort Megumi, he is the one who occasionally prepares her a homemade lunch for school, he is the one who Megumi goes to visit when she has the opportunity (aside from Tsumiki) to tell him of his day.

Big Bro reader is one of the few people (if not the only one) who feels like he will never abandon him, and gives him a genuine and warm feeling of security that he wishes he had before. He loves it very much.

Megumi becomes an unofficial part of Big Bro's family, his wife even has a guest room tailored to his tastes (and for his divine dogs), she has some of his favorite snacks in the pantry, and MY GOD, when he comes over of surprise and Reader's children are going to greet him with "welcome home Megumi-nisaaaaaan!" Megumi could DIE THERE AND DIE HAPPY.

They even leave him a space at the table (Big Bro's wife always gives him extra portions because according to her "he is very thin") and he can feel calm. simple peace of mind.

Gojo's brother is amazing.

and eventually thanks to this and being the fucking sensei's brother, he would also meet Nobara and Itadori.

Itadori would meet Big Bro reader before Nobara, he would probably even be either 1- one of the people Itadori would go on his first missions with or 2- one of the few people Gojo trusted to let him know that Yuji wasn't dead.

Let's go for both.

Itadori was VERY surprised to see the difference in attitude between his Sensei and his brother, but he still saw that Big Bro Reader was someone very respectable, even adorable! always bragging about his family and Gojo-sensei also started showing him his own photos of his nephews/nieces (Big Bro's children) and even some photos from when they were young, it was very wholesome.

I can see Big Bro joining Itadori in his movie marathons (especially after the incident with Junpei), inviting him to his house to meet his family, even staying for dinner. For Yuji everything is so...NEW, a whole family, functional and happy, how does he do it? but ends up thanking him very much for the experience (even giving him a hug that Reader gladly returns).

Itadori goes with Big bro reader if he needs more sentimental or emotional advice, since Big bro is something like his guide in that sense, his reference point for what he would like to have, and although Itadori is a walking green flag , sometimes doesn't understand certain situations, and wants to become as friendly and supportive as big bro reader.

Imagine Itadori and Megumi babysitting Big Bro reader's children! I imagine that they are half angels and half Gojo(xd) so they would have to be very careful with that. Megumi would absolutely LOVE to see children drawing pictures or talking about their family, if they draw him a picture of him, he will cry (even if it is the ugliest thing ever drawn, he will hang it on the refrigerator, NO BUTS)

Itadori stays more with Big Bro reader's wife (if she is there) and helps her with things like shopping bags and wanting to know more about the children to be a better babysitter with Megumi (although he knows them better so not much problem).

And when Big bro reader comes Back and the kids go running to give their dad the "welcome home!" Call, Itadori swears his heart MELTS.

Sensei's brother is very kind. Is what he thinks whathever the topic of Big bro is bring up.

Nobara would probably meet Big Bro after Itadori's "death", and at first she didn't think much of him (except that he dressed VERY well) until she learned that he was Gojo-Sensei's older brother. and honestly? She didn't believe it.

It couldn't be!! IT HAD TO BE A JOKE! How did someone like his sensei have someone so friendly as a brother? Or was Reader hiding his own idiotic side? It took photos from when they were young and a lot of insistence for her to finally believe that they were even related.

Definitely at first she was a little alert because of the friendly way Big Bro Reader acted, but eventually she was able to let her guard down when she realized that he wasn't planning anything shady, on the contrary, he wanted to be with them in a difficult moment like what he was doing. It was losing a partner. Nobara could respect him for that.

and he believed that he must be the proudest man in the world, because he always showed off his family, especially his children. At first Nobara found him somewhat annoying, but it didn't take long before she got on the train of enthusiasm for the achievements of Big Bro's children.

If Big Bro has a bad fashion sense, Nobara is ON A MISSION to change that, no ifs and buts. They won't go away until you at least know basic color theory.

Overall Nobara is happy to be a girl around Big Bro reader and have good mental support at this school. Sensei's brother is great.

Thank you for reading!❤️

240 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 1 month

Text

So fandom specific posts are to follow eventually, but this is going to be a general concept. I've been thinking A LOT on alternative takes to the red string of fate trope and I started wondering about a hypothetical idea of the strings changing in appearance based on the current health and mental well being of the person they're attached to, even to the point where the strings do not properly appear if you're in bad mental health

For example, some of these AUs have the string where you have to think about it to summon it whenever and you can follow it as long as you want, and some have the string only appear when you are within a certain proximity to your other half

First and foremost, what if, when your string appears, you could make it vanish again at will. Not like permanantly, but like, say, if your string keeps appearing and you don't want it to be used to track your physical location, you have to concentrate similar to using a specific muscle and you can "force them back" so they can't find you. Just imagining the growing frustrations of a yandere who has to wait until you fall asleep to even make progress on your actual location because otherwise it's, them summoning your string for about .5 seconds before you notice and shut that shit off immediately, like two people on opposite ends of the room both toggling switches for the same light

But anyways, back to the alternative appearance strings, could you then imagine a scenario where, your yandere has their string appear and after a certain length, it changes colors for the rest of the strand, signifying your string and your own well-being, and the color immediately signifies something incredibly serious and worrying to them that immediately has them speeding to your side to check on you even if they've never met you before, regardless of if it's a couple blocks over or if they have to follow that string across the world. And then you can pair that with the "string blocking" idea and you have an extremely frantic yandere who is freaking out, "my soulmate is in trouble, why won't they let me come help them?! This is why they need me!!!" Amd they KNOW you are deliberately holding them off so, whatever aspects from that, whether it's a sadistic yandere who is amused by your spunk, or a nurturing yandere who automatically takes this as affirmation that you're just a sweet nervous little bean who needs their guidance, look at you being so scared of your own soulmate you silly little goose--

I only have two alternative colors, technically three different ideas total, but, I considered the idea of someone's string slowly turning white and becoming more visibly frayed if someone is seriously ill and or dying, eventually snapping and disappearing upon true death, and I thought it would be interesting if this "physical health symptom" also manifested for suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation. Your yandere has your half of the string appear connected to theirs and they IMMEDIATELY know you're in trouble and they come to find you at all costs and you're... so depressed you can't even be excited to meet them and may even still want to die and just tell them to go away. Your yandere all but kicks down your door, "honey I'm here and I'm ready to love you!

Continuing from that last point, the other idea I'm really growing attached to that is probably my favorite is the idea of the BLUE string of fate: a string that appears on someone who is currently not within the right mental state to be in love or needs some sort of help or time to heal from a trauma before they are ready. Your other half tries to summon their string? The other end of it cuts off mid-air and hangs off their hand, leading nowhere, useless, unable to be followed, only a couple inches of blue their only hint if they even have a soulmate at all, but it can't lead them to you, driving them crazy who you are and where you are

I also considered the idea for alternate colors if two people are soulmates but they have, shall we say, an alternative dynamic? Like you could also technically use the blue string (although i personally think green or elsewise for this example would work better) for like, two aromantic people who are platonic soulmates or that have some incredibly strong nonromantic nonsexual love for someone? Or if you had, say, an aroace or just aro person and their soulmate was an allosexual of some kind. Idk it just sounds intriguing to play around with the concepts since you know, there's more than just romantic and platonic love and it can be an extremely nuanced feeling and love also doesn't inherently translate into sexual desires as another aspect and in this essay I will--

Either way, I feel like once I interact with certain tropes for another years, I wanna start throwing some seasonings in there. Spice up this bitch and saute it. I'm out here giving ABO a broader range of vocalizations to the point Omega can make clicking "distress call" noises to signal for help when trapped or injured. I'm over here "what if scenting could be done with any physical touch and the nature of the scent can be intentionally controlled to convey certain feelings so your yandere Alpha could give you a friendly shoulder pat and suddenly you're walking around with Don't Touch My Mate Or I'll Fucking Kill You scent all over you and you have no idea"

I just. Final thing. Can you imagine being in the same room as your yandere and, THEY KNOW they feel some sort of attraction to you they can't explain, but you dont really talk or make any effort to interact with them, and one day you overhear your yandere talking about how they don't have a soulmate yet and they summon their string and half of it is blue and here you are, subtly sneaking out of the room, staring down at your own cobalt thread and wondering, "am I.... THEIR...?"and deciding to intentionally keep it a secret, but eventually you two grow close enough or, someone says something to you that opens your heart and let's you love yourself enough that, a tiny voice inside of you is like "yeah... I WOULD like a partner to spend time and laugh with, i want to koge and im ready to take the risk" and your yandere literally watches your string, and by extension the string on the other end of theirs, completely change colors and finally fully connect, so then you have the slow burn, kind of one sided pining that absolutely explodes in intensity once your yandere finds out it was you all along

Just might be a couple of fun concepts to play around with in the future. You guys know I love drama...

#yandere x reader #sinprompts #and YES i AM thinking about Alastor shut up shut up shut up

80 notes · View notes

thedisablednaturalist · 2 years

Text

I think what trips people up in the neurodivergent vs. physically disabled discourse is that you can't treat disabilities the same way as you treat LGBTQ+ identities. The goal for LGBTQ+ identities if for us all to one day be equal to cishet+ people. Someones gender identity or sexuality or race will not make them inherently more privileged or oppressed eventually. But with illnesses it's different.

I'm an ambulatory wheelchair user. I am disabled, but someone who is paralyzed is less privileged than me even though we both use wheelchairs and are disabled. For example, if I reach an area that is inaccessible, I can stand up and go around or remove the obstacle. It is not as easy for someone who is a full time wheelchair user. But we are still both disabled. Someone who has only ADHD and no physical disabilities is more privileged than someone with physical disabilities. Both people are disabled. However if the building is burning down, one person can take the stairs and escape and one person has to wait for rescue. And for the foreseeable future, unless there comes a day that prosthetics and medicine become so advanced there are no longer any negative aspects of disability (pain, illness, mobility, mental state), this will be the case.

And instead of trying to burst into the paraplegic support group and whine at them and throw a fit that they aren't talking about ME, I use my privilege to advocate for more accessibility in my town and at my college campus. Not that they aren't able to, but being able to mask my disability has put me in sort of a medium between abled people and the disabled community. I've been able to help so I do.

I am physically disabled, so I consider myself part of the cripplepunk community. I can do this because people look at me and label me as a cripple. People don't look at a mentally ill/neurodivergent person and do that. There are other descriptors used for neurodivergents if you would like to reclaim one of them.

Also, I consider myself neurodivergent as well. Some of you don't consider that people can be physically disabled AND neurodivergent. The barriers I faced with my neurodivergence and the barriers I faced with my physical disability are worlds apart. Both are challenging, but my physical disability has been harder. Does that mean I should ignore my neurodivergence? Does that mean neurodivergents should no longer be supported? Of course not! But in many cases, especially in modern times, mental health has made a ton of progress but it's left us physically disabled peeps behind. So please stop talking over physically disabled and chronically ill people and derailing the little support we get for yourselves. You aren't a cripple and you don't need to be one to be a part of the larger disabled community. You don't need to be a cripple to get support. In our society it's the opposite. We get left behind, ignored, our lives ripped from us. And yea, neurodivergents have this happen to them too but please understand that our pain has continued while neurodivergence is becoming more accepted.

I was able to get on meds so easily. I was screened for depression at my school. There were problems with this of course but they actually tried to seek out depressed kids and help them (even if it caused issues). Yes it costs money. Yes it may be harder outside of the states (or easier idk). But the same shit happens to us cripples as well and our mobility devices cost THOUSANDS out of pocket while meds cost hundreds at the most. My psychiatrist gave me a Zoloft prescription my first appointment and my rheumatologist laughed at me for wanting a walker.

We are tired and we are mad. We have a right to be angry at the mistreatment we've suffered. It's incredibly insulting to dismiss that pain. It's what our doctors do to us, our parents, our friends, our communities. Stop tearing us down to push yourselves further forward. If you truly want to get rid of any division in our community, help bring us up to your level instead of throwing a tantrum about the meanie cripples not letting you take our word that doesn't even fit you. It's insulting to want a word so bad that would never be thrown at you in the first place. It's like a cis binary queer person crying that they can't use the word tranny for themselves.

Please try to understand our pain and educate yourselves about history and experiences outside of your own diagnosis. Don't assume we have it easier because you see us. Most people don't.

#fibromyalgia #chronic disability #chronic pain #spoonie #cripplepunk #any other physically disabled people feel free to chime in #abled people dont clown on this post #honestly there was such a stark difference in how i was treated when i disclosed my adhd/anxiety/depression/DID vs #when i started using a wheelchair #people reacted badly to both sides but reacted so much worse to the wheelchair

1K notes · View notes

simpingland · 8 months

Text

The punch and the car.// Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Modern Au! Jacaerys Strong never liked the girl his mother adopted, and made his life's mission to let her know that. But years past and reader can't handle that much hate from someone as intense as him. Baela and Rhaena have an idea.

TW: smut and angst a bit of fluff! P in v, masturbation (female receiving), unprotected sex. Someone gets a punch.

-----------------------------------

As you had told her, the din of the overly loud music drilled into your brain. But your friend Rhaena's enthusiasm to see you and Baela out of your routine made up for it all. It was overwhelmingly crowded, but even so, her beautiful white hair made her stand out from the crowd and she ran to give you a hug.

"I can't believe you came, I thought you said yes to shut me up," said the girl with the sweetest smile.

"I never break a promise," Baela replied earnestly. Always with her dignity and honour.

"And I see you have convice our girl as well," she addressed you.

"Well, I'm afraid Baela threatened me if I didn't come..." that was absolutely true.

"That's how I made sure there was someone around who I liked" she justified herself.

You smiled at her, Baela had always been like a big sister to you, protective and loving in her own way. And Rhaena was also one of your favourite people, she knew how to boost your self-esteem and transmit energy. Maybe the party wouldn't be so bad.

"Baela!" someone shouted from afar.

You changed your mind after a second, from now on everything would be bad. The voice belonged to Jacaerys Velaryon, Baela and Rhaena's cousin, a.k.a 'Jace' to friends, which he always reminded you you weren't.

"What are you doing at a party, and out of rugby uniform? I don't think I've seen you in a skirt in years..." he hugged his cousin, smiling with those dimples. Then he saw you. "Oh...and you came too."

"Jacaerys..." you replied. "I'm surprised you saw me, I thought you'd be drunk as a skunk by now."

"I could hear your little voice beeping over the vibrations of the glasses as soon as you came in," he tried to mock.

"The plastic cups you mean?"

He fell silent, sighed and refocused on his cousins.

"I hope you're having a good time, cousin, I've got to go and get the playlist ready. It's my turn to DJ in a bit!"

The twins congratulated him and let him go, Jace gave them flirtatious winks before giving you a sidelong glance, as if he suspected you were going to nudge him at any moment. When he finally disappeared, Rhaena started waving to people and you and Baela decided to go get the first drink of the night.

"'I could hear your little voice beeping over the vibrations', ugh, what a clown..." you grumbled in Baela's ear.

"Oh, no. Don't start." She stopped concentrating on choosing liquor to look at you.

"Start what?"

"Complaining about Jace for anything. It's a tiring subject, both sides."

"He complains about me too?"

"Of course he does. He's always asking about you, like he's waiting to know something so he can complain even about things he hasn't lived through."

"Do you guys talk shit about me during training?"

Baela and Jacaerys were in different years at university and didn't study the same subjects (Baela studied sports, Jace politics and geography), but what they did share was a rugby training routine. Both were great players, and from a young age they had found a strong friendship through sport.

"No, I can mention to him, I don't know, things like we went shopping for panties last week and he finds a way to complain about you, asking me about you and overreacting to everything I tell him."

"Don't tell him about my panties, Baela!"

"It was an example..." lie, you had gone panty shopping, and Baela would most likely have told him about it because she doesn't think much of such things as embarrassing. "The thing is, I've had enough. I'm here today to get drunk and have fun."

She turned her attention back to her drink.

"So...you think I have an annoying voice?"

When she filled her drink twice as much, you took it for granted that her level of irritation had been overcome. You took pity on her and let her dance alone until you saw her stop to dance with a companion of hers. Perhaps the best idea was to walk around, and say hello to everyone you had even the slightest interaction with. And it seemed to work, albeit short greetings, nods or smiles, but no one stopped you to talk. As you sipped your drink, looking around the huge fraternity house, someone came up to your ear.

"Don't you have any friends here?" You were ready to smile at him, but you recognised Jace, though you didn't know whether by his voice or his smell.

"I'm looking for someone, actually," you lied. "You don't have anyone to hang out with to complain about me?"

"I'm afraid no one here cares that much about you."

That hurt. It would have been easy to reemphasize how obsessed Jace seemed to be with you, but it had crossed the fine line where you just wanted to cry because his insistence had made you want to hit him. Maybe it was true, maybe there was no one who cared about you as much. He must have noticed something in your eyes, his twisted smile disappeared, but because Jace couldn't stand to empathise with you, he decided to get angry.

"Oh, don't tell me you're going to be like that," he said.

"I don't even know why I bother to talk to you."

And you disappeared, turning your back on him. If he said anything else, you didn't hear it, the music was drilling into your head so much that you decided to finish your drink in two gulps, trying to numb your brain.

It hadn't always been like this with Jace, you just had trouble remembering the good times because the boy had made things difficult for you from moment one. From a very young age, living in the same house where Rhaenyra had lovingly taken you in, Jace had been a good boy, obedient to do his homework, help his brother Luke, and play with his cousins whenever they visited. But with you he was always different. It went from deep affection, sharing daily activities at home like drawing for hours on the same floor, dressing up and playing in the garden on summer mornings, swinging with each other in the park or enjoying cartoons lying on the sofa. But all that changed so drastically in the last years of school that you only had pictures and videos to remember those moments. When Joffrey was born, Rhaenyra began to count on you as a help around the house, while you put up with Jace pulling your hair when no one was looking, or "accidentally" throwing a ball in your direction. Nothing you said seemed right to him and all your good deeds were an attempt to lick his mother's arse. If Rhaenyra hadn't been there, you probably would have cried every night in your bed, but you held out hope for many years that he would grow up, just as Rhaenyra promised you would happen. Worst of all, you could only scold him so much, because Jace was smart. Sure, he talked back to his parents, he went out between days without warning, stories came home about girls he'd been seen hanging out with and doing things with, and he was a dick to you and didn't hide it. But he also passed all his exams with flying colours, he still had that unconditional affection for Luke, Joffrey and his cousins, he was a sportsman on a par with his mother in his youth, he helped his father Harwin whenever he needed him to fix something around the house, and he knew how to make anyone he came across smile.

Meanwhile, you had always felt like an outsider because of him, because the others had gone out of their way to include you. Harwin was a father to you, he had taught you how to drive and showed up at all your music recitals, no matter how bad they were. And Rhaenyra always told you everything. What was going on in her work, what she was talking about with Harwin, what she had discovered in Jace's drawers, or how happy she was to be promoted in her job. She had taught you how to do your hair and had more than kept her promise to your mother after she left this world. And yet, Jace made you feel like that wasn't enough, and at the same time it made you feel selfish. You couldn't just focus on pleasing one person, you couldn't please everyone. But it was frustrating that no one loved you with such passion but you had someone who apparently hated you with such passion.

All that went away from your head as the alcohol took effect, and you got so hot mixed in with the people dancing. You didn't even notice that it was Jace who had gone up to the DJ booth. That he played good music would be one of the things you could never admit to, and on top of that, he was happy to take requests from the pretty girls who piled up to ask him for tunes. You could stand it for a little while, noticing how the odd person approached you with strange intentions. And all of them you brushed aside, ignoring them almost unwillingly, so much on your own that you gave little thought to whether or not to offend others.

As you carried the cup again, an activity you had done a few times already, Jace played one of those songs that irritated you the most, and of course, there were people who agreed with you and there were many more who cheered Jace's choice. The least you deserved was to ask him for a song. So it was to the mixing desk that you headed, awkwardly, with a full glass and clearly drunk. If you pushed someone it was likely, that you cared about it was out of the question. And Jacaerys found it so strange to see you standing there that he gave you some attention, lending his ear for you to speak to him, mind you, with a scowl.

"Play my song!" you shouted at him.

"Your song?" He looked disgusted, and shook his head when you nodded.

"The one before was shit, play my song!"

"I don't take requests...especially not like the shit you want me to play." But hey, he did know what your shit song was...

"Yo do take requests, asshole, and it's a shame you had to learn a whole profession as a dj to get girls to listen to you,"

"Get the fuck out of here before you puke on the table," he snapped.

"Are you calling me a drunk?"

"Clearly you're not?" he mimicked your tone of voice and the dumb expression you must have had at the time.

"I don't talk like that, enough of--" in your anger, the drink had ended up spilling out of the glass and onto the huge, button-strewn table. Jacaerys turned away, but you, panicking and confused, tried to wipe the alcohol off the table. And then sparks flew, and for an instant you felt that intense burning sensation in your fingers. You felt yourself being pulled within seconds, but you couldn't see who it was because the whole house went out. People were soon protesting, shouting and hissing, but all you could smell was Jace so close, his hands in your arms.

The lanterns lit up the room, though the complaints didn't disperse, and loud footsteps sounded overhead.

"Who destroyed the mixer?" the voice shouted. The lights focused on him, surely more than one was recording. His tense and serious face brought you back to your senses a little. Just a little.

"Aemond, I'm so sorry about the table, it was an accident..." apologised Jace, trying not to look nervous.

"I knew accepting you into the fraternity was a mistake. Do you know how expensive the mixer is?" he approached both menacingly, though he wasn't looking at you.

"We're so sorry..." you interjected.

"Shut up and get the hell out of here," snapped the boy everyone knew as Aemond One Eye, a legend on campus and also Jacaerys' uncle.

"Hey..."

"I'll try to pay you back, okay?" Jace slyly placed you behind him, trying not to feel provoked by Aemond. "I'm telling you, it was an accident."

"You'll pay for it? I can already see you whining to your mother to spoil you again for everything you want. No, not this time, I don't want you to pay for it, I want to make it clear what a cunt you are. I don't want you to come back here anymore."

"It was me who did it-" you were interrupted again.

"I have friends here too, Aemond, don't forget that."

"That's because everyone forgets that you and your brothers are the worst scum they can come across. None of them know your brute of a father."

"Leave my father out of this," Jace was on the verge of fisticuffs.

"You're right, I suppose he's been duped by your slut of a mother--"

Then he took a fist, and everyone stifled a scream, and there was the odd brave one who dared to clap. And no, it was not Jacaerys the puncher. So drunk, angry at the interruptions, and even more provoked by the comment, no one had foreseen the blow you threw at Aemond, nor the strength you had hidden. The fact is that the boy started to bleed from the nose, and that applause had perhaps encouraged you too much.

"What the fuck?" Aemond said to you.

"We told you it was an accident. And it wasn't even Jace, you fucker. It was me...yes! Me! And the only scum I see here is you!"

The whispers and the dreads returned, and now there was no more applause. Jace tried to push you away again.

"Don't mind her, she's drunk," Jace excused you.

"I'm not going to hit a woman," Aemond wiped his nose.

"You better" you said and Jace threw you knives through his eyes.

"How brave, Jace" he then exclaimed in a higher tone. "You need a poor girl to cover your back...pitiful."

He then lowered his voice as people seemed to start talking again, commenting on what they had just seen. Someone was able to turn the light back on, and the cheering returned.

"Both of you get out of here right now. If you don't, I'll make sure no one talks to you for the rest of the college." The blond finally whispered.

As you stepped aside, Baela and Rhaena were already there to find out first hand what had happened, and Rhaena saved you from falling straight to the ground.

"Is she drunk?" She asked Jace.

"Clearly...though she's never been very smart."

"Jace, don't be cruel," Baela urged him.

"She needs to throw up, and I'd rather she do it here than in the car," Rhaena looked at her cousin ruefully, you trying to regain the mobility of your fist. "Give us a hand getting her upstairs...please."

Without a word, Jace was able to hoist you onto his back, with Baela and Rhaena watching to make sure you didn't let go and fall down the stairs.

"I think I cracked my finger," you said slurring your words. You held out your hand to Rhena to show her. "Can you see if I've cracked it?"

"I don't have x-ray vision, honey," she replied.

"You punched it with your other hand," Jace corrected you. Only you laughed, clutching his neck again. He still smelled exaggeratedly good and his hair was there for you to sink your face into. But soon you reached the bathroom.

Rhaena grabbed your hair and it wasn't long before you were puking. Outside the bathroom, Jace avoided Baela's gaze, who knew that Aemond's words must have hurt him. And soon your consciousness came back. You rinsed your mouth and rethought your life choices.

"Did I just punch Aemond Targaryen?" You asked the girl. And she nodded at you, smiling. "I just punched Aemond Targaryen!"

And then you smiled, and a little gasp escaped you, leaning out into the hallway to join Baela and Jacaerys.

"I just punched Aemond Targaryen!"

Though Baela was smiling, it was Jace who wanted to burst your little bubble of happiness.

"What you just did is make a fool of me," he cut you off, his tone serious and low, shifting his gaze from the floor to you.

"Hey...I stood up for you." You were instantly out of any joy.

"I didn't need your help, in fact, what I needed was for you not to be here. It was all your fault."

"Aemond would have used any excuse to insult you in front of everyone, no matter what happened, just like you don't need anything to insult me."

"Don't compare me to Aemond! He hates my mother and everything we have. Instead you..." he paused for a moment, frustrated and waving his hands around, not knowing what to squeeze, "you just need to exist to..."

"To hate me?"

Though he didn't answer, he didn't need to. He turned his eyes away from you, and closed his mouth. And then you were overcome with all the ridicule you had always made, not just today. Whatever had been going through his head about you had always mattered little to you. But now you could understand that it was you, your personality and everything that you would never change that bothered him so much. And that confused you more, because if Jacaerys saw you like that, when he was an admirable person in many ways, did that make you a despicable person?

"I'm going back to the flat" you whispered after a few seconds. You started down the stairs, getting as far away from Jace as possible.

"I'll give you a lift" Baela offered.

"No need, I'll walk..."

"No, I'll take you, I don't feel like being here anymore." She grabbed you by the shoulders and made you stop.

"Are you sure?"

"If my friend doesn't have a good time I'll never have a good time...I hope you feel the same way." She winked at you and you smiled a little. "Go to the car, I have to say goodbye to some colleagues."

She left you the keys and you walked alone to the place where you remembered getting off. And opening the door, the warmth of the car comforted you and although you thought you would be grateful for the silence, it brought back the bad memories and your head was spinning again. It took you a while to realise that Baela was taking a long time, but you refused to go back into that house.

Biting your nails in the dark, with a few stealthy tears falling, you half lay down in the back seat, because you always got dizzy in front, as all your friends knew. And when someone opened the door, you were instantly glad to think it was Baela, but it wasn't. The smell was different, and though it was a smell you loved, the presence made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Jacaerys sat in the back seat in awkward silence, and slammed the door shut. He didn't make you step aside, for he shrank back in his seat and turned on the car's light. And even then, he didn't look at you.

"Where's Baela?"

"Inside."

"And... And why are you out?"

"I'm not technically out of a place if I'm inside a car." He replied in a pedantic tone. To that you said nothing, just let out a snort, giving up. "Rhaena told me you'd be here."

You stood silent waiting for him to develop, but he struggled, shaking his leg, making you incredibly nervous.

"If you're going to be like this you might as well have stayed outside. In the open air if you wish me to be more specific..."

With a look of disgust, he opened the door and walked out. And you felt a little silly because the light made you look a little ridiculous in that posture, waiting for someone who wasn't coming and having blown the only chance you had to make amends with Jacaerys. And you watched from the window as he paced back and forth, his coat pulled tight and trying to cheat the cold. You enjoyed watching him for a while, and it wasn't long before he gave up. When he tried to go back inside, you quickly got into his seat, not letting him sit down.

"It must be minus twenty degrees in here, let me in," he demanded.

"You're too much sometimes."

"Please, my nipples are going to turn blue!"

At your hesitation, Jace decided to have his way, sitting down roughly and causing you to pull away. Locked in the car again, Jace took a breath, and finally spoke.

"I don't hate you!" Though from his tone it didn't sound like it. "But it's as simple as that every time I've run into you, you've managed to overshadow everything."

"Jacaerys, we've lived our whole lives together. It's natural for you to hate me--"

"But thats what I'm telling you, that I don't hate you, and that's what irritates me the most. You've been the apple of my mother's eye ever since you were adopted. Her only daughter, while I, the one already there, the eldest, the first-born and the supposed to be the dearest, have always remained in your shadow."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't, you'll never know what it's like to have everyone telling you how great you are while I choke on trying to make someone proud of me. You smile and you have it all."

"I don't know? Listen to yourself, Jacaerys, it's you who only has to smile to get what you want. You're a taciturn, stubborn and rather obtuse about a lot of things and everyone lets you slide because you're the favourite, the handsome, sporty one of the brothers and you get good grades even though no one's ever seen you study." Your raised voice made his eyes widen quite a bit, that or maybe you were moving dangerously towards him.

"I study at night!" he justified himself.

"I know, your mother always thought it was the hours you masturbated but I've always known you studied because you get anxiety about not answering an exam!"

"And you know everything because you are a know-it-all and everyone tells you everything because they want to be your friend!"

"Then why don't you?" That sounded a lot more desperate than you thought it would.

"Because I want to feel like a real leader for once in my life, I want to feel independent and you've never stopped trying to match me. You haven't even let me fight with someone who has insulted me, not you!"

"And you needed to ostracise me for years and remind me how lonely I am to get me to leave you alone?"

Then you stepped back, and the dim light let the two of you watch each other carefully. Your tears had long since passed, but Jacaerys seemed to have them on the verge of coming. And then you felt sorry.

"I'm sorry."

You said it unwillingly at the same time. Silence returned, and your gazes parted, though you couldn't help but glance sideways at him.

"The worst thing about all this..." he started to say, "is that I like the song you wanted to play too. But I didn't want to play it because it makes a lot of sense that people would have loved it and the wanted to be friends with you, you're someone...quite unforgettable."

"Well, you didn't need to learn the whole DJ thing to get girls' attention." That made him smile a little.

"Luke's not going to believe you called me 'the handsome one of the brothers'," he joked.

"Oh, that's all you got? Now I feel stupid. I'm going to go get Baela," you moved to open the car door, but again, Jace's hands picked you up, pulling you back towards him.

"I know I'm taciturn, stubborn and obtuse, but you know I'm more than that..." he then rested his hands on yours, checking those small burns that had been left over from the accident.

"Of course I know that, Jacaerys..." then you realised how close you were to his face. His greenish eyes were now completely black, and never before had you felt as seen by him as you did at that moment.

"Your fingers must be burning..." he put one of your hands to his lips.

"And you must still be a little cold."

Without quite knowing what was going on, the alcohol reminded you that you were indeed much looser than you were used to, so when Jace kissed your fingers slowly, you couldn't help but caress his lips, which went from cold to incredibly tempting.

As soon as you pulled your hand away, Jace launched himself at your lips, and first it was a strange, slow kiss, soft and silky. Jace smelled so good...and kissed so well...it didn't end there. He pulled you on top of him and continued kissing you, the passion increasing with each kiss. As your tongue entered, your hand moved down to Jace's chest and you felt it grow so close to your own sex. And the music coming from the party so far away seemed to increase in your mind, the movements of the car getting faster and faster.

When you undressed is something you'll never know, but you do remember undressing Jace with that stupid car light on. You were no virgin, but Jace felt so new, and the readjustment he gave you made you feel that instant electricity. And it was you moving up and down, with Jace trying to capture your lips, even though it had been feeling so good for a while that he could barely do anything but moan softly. He knew how to move his hands and his sweat made him look a thousand times more handsome than you'd ever seen him.

"I'm going to cum," he warned you. "Fuck, even for this you're the best..."

"Don't exaggerate," though it brought a smile to your face and red to your cheeks. It didn't take you long to feel that explosion as Jace closed his eyes and caught his breath.

Dismounting from him, the tender kiss that followed surprised you, and you could feel a smile on his lips. You hadn't cum, but the experience had been worth it, though you didn't think about the consequences at the time. Then Jacaerys brought his hand to where you wanted it most, and a moan escaped you in that supposedly high-pitched voice that didn't seem to bother Jace so much now.

"Tell me how you like to be touched," he whispered softly. And you put your hand with his to change the rhythm.

"I like it like this" you replied, his fingers were still a little cold and that made it all the better. You were concentrating but when you opened your eyes your enjoyment increased. Jace's face was pressed to yours, and he kept his eyes on you as he moved his hand without even penetrating you. He looked into your eyes, or he looked at your lips, but he was full of affection for you, for the first time it was only and completely for you.

Then that tingling feeling ran through you from your stomach to each of your fingers and toes, and Jacaerys delighted in seeing you with the favour returned.

And it all ended with another kiss, lacking tongue or eagerness, but full of tenderness that made you forget every single bad thing that had ever happened.

"Your mouth tastes like good weed liquor," he confessed as you got dressed again, his dimples peeking out.

"And yours tastes like rum-cola."

"Clearly I win this one."

Laughing and blushing, you nodded. And before you kissed him again, Baela and Rhaena's voices began to grow closer. And the two of you parted as if it were routine as the car doors opened and closed.

"I'm sorry for the lock-up," apologised Baela. "I hope it's all right."

"It is...it is," you responded.

Jace opened the window, trying to disperse the smell a little, and his attempt at being sneaky was a little too funny to you.

"I'm glad...something smells funny though..."

"Did you know that cars are cleaned on the inside too, Baela?" The twin teased.

The two engaged in an absurd argument that was amusing, but your eyes and mind focused on Jace as he placed his hand gently on your leg, and then turned his palm over to offer it to you. And you took it silently, interlacing your fingers and letting them rest in your lap.

You had cried about Jacaerys, you had executed an act of violence in defence of Jacaerys, you had left Jacaerys in the cold. You had made love with Jacaerys...now you could understand why wars were difficult. What a weirdly victorious night that was.

#house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #jacaerys strong #jacaerys velaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys velaryon #hotd jacaerys #hotd smut #hotd angst #hotd fluff #harry collett

331 notes · View notes