#this is inspired by me and myself and I. I’m currently learning how to spin pens so I can bust it out randomly in conversations and then act

[dolorianwolf]

Kim Kitsuragi the type of guy to spend hours on his own learning how to spin a pen around his fingers real quick, and when he feels like he’s absolutely mastered it he starts doing it around the precinct but he doesn’t make a big deal of it and if anyone comments on it he shrugs and says “it’s just something I picked up when I was a kid” but that’s a lie! he was up until three last night making sure he could do it without dropping the pen a single time.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #he’s a loser!!! who wants to look so cool!!! I love him. such a guy #this is inspired by me and myself and I. I’m currently learning how to spin pens so I can bust it out randomly in conversations and then act #like it’s no big deal #I am also a loser

[sunivaa]

Dressed my sim-self in a dress and came to you to talk a little.

Now everyone is discussing EA, early access, some creators talked about how they were negatively affected by the perception of creating CC as work and other things. I am very sorry that people feel bad and I am glad that they are better now, I hope it will be like that.

In this text, I want to talk about myself and why I am glad that EA allowed early access. For me, creating CC is probably the most favorite thing, despite the fact that I have hardly played the Sims for quite some time. Just sit, spin meshes, add new spins. I use EA meshes, edit them and add new twists to create something unique in this game, some hairstyles have almost nothing left of the mesh of course, but that's not the point. I am very passionate about this business and the fact that I can monetize it somehow is very important. I live with my mother, so far I have neither the ability nor the need to live on my own. I don't get much from my patrons, but it's enough for me to buy medicine that I have to take constantly, buy clothes, cat food, food, and financially help my mom and the people who are currently suffering from the war in my country more , than I am, because I am lucky to live in a relatively safe place. It's important to me to get paid for creating CC, because if I didn't get paid, I would have to go to work. It wouldn't be a tragedy, of course, I would find something where I don't have to die to get pennies, but then I wouldn't be able to do what I really enjoy - making CC. That doesn't mean I'm doing it "just for the money". This means that people who like my CCs allow me to pursue my hobby without the fear that I won't have the funds for what I need.

I am infinitely grateful to everyone who supports me financially or just with kind words. I really like the hair I'm creating now. I like ANY post where I see my CCs. If the closed sunivaa.iva account suddenly likes you on Instagram, then I saw my CC on you and I am happy like a child.

I am glad that the people who support me financially receive thanks from me in the form of early access. It is important to me that I feel that I am not just "living on donations", but that I am giving something for which people are willing to pay a little. It wouldn't be a tragedy for me if I had to remove early access, but I'm glad that for now, I won't have to and my patrons will be able to receive such thanks from me. I feel obliged to you, I'm ashamed that I still can't fix bugs in old hairstyles, or reduce the number of polygons in them. I can do it, but I don't have enough strength and desire for it, I want to create something new. I wouldn't mind at all if someone else does this and posts these hairstyles for themselves! I'm not suggesting this, just saying that you can do whatever you want with all my CCs. I don't care who does what with them. I am happy because I can do what I like.

I hope that one day I will still have the inspiration to fix my old hairstyles, and make that heart belt as an accessory, finish a new blog, I remember everything, but I can't force myself, I don't want to break myself. I hope you are not mad at me for this.

I love myself. I love you. Thank you for allowing me to do what I love. I could write a lot more, but I think someone is already tired of reading

/I do not know English well. It is easier in simple answers, but with such large texts I use a translator, so I apologize if there are any mistakes that I did not notice. I still haven't learned English 👉🏻👈🏻

I will finish the new hair (the one on the screen) and publish it within a day Colored spinning wheels are not my authorship, you can download them here

[peripherys]

∘₊✧💖✨💕✧₊∘

hi there! i'm han elliott (they/them), and i'm an artist, composer, and lover of stories. here's where you can find my work!

💖 tags:

my art ✧ my music

✨ links:

twitter ✧ instagram ✧ soundcloud ✧ cohost

thanks for visiting! have a nice day.

∘₊✧💖✨💕✧₊∘

🌈 random trivia:

✧ i’m nonbinary (leaning towards nonbinary transmasc? i call it Non-binary With Left Beef) and pansexual, but if we’re being real, i’m whatever gender or sexuality that works best for the bit

✧ i'm autistic, and some of my special interests are: animation & the industry, queer representation, psychology, digital fusion & jazz music (particularly hiromi!), the psychology of parasocial relationships, animal crossing, aaand many more things.

✧ speaking of animal crossing: i've been playing since New Leaf in 2013. my favorite villager is Diana, and my favorite NPCs are Isabelle & Flick.

✧ i've been playing piano since 2013, and it's the first/only instrument i've played! i first started learning because i saw the overly-embellished and complicated anime OP covers that animenz posted on youtube, and (ratherly naively) thought to myself: "yeah, i can do that".

✧ music is a big part of my life! i started composing in 2013 as well, when i figured out i could change the chords of the boring practice songs i was learning, by changing the positions of my hands. how fun! some of my favorite composers/inspirations aaare: joe hisaishi, hiromi, aivi & surasshu, ryuichi sakamoto, louie zong, dave malloy, kazumi totaka, fiona apple, snarky puppy, aaand many more. if you give me jazz chords, a lot of 4ths, some bleeps and boops, and it sounds Gay™️, i will probably like it.

✧ i watch way too much youtube. i love video essays, commentary, and comedy videos! my current favorite is anything Trixie & Katya. i have just about every monologue from them memorized. i can recite the Paul Hollywood monologue front to back. for better, or for worse...

✧ sadly, as expected from everything else here, i am also... a weeb. my favorite studios are ghibli, science saru, trigger, and kyoto animation. i love anything that's Gay™️. some of my favorites are: kiki's delivery service, whisper of the heart, keep your hands off eizouken!, yuri on ice, chihayafuru, great pretender, kids on the slope, skip to loafer, mob pyscho 100, mushishi, aaand... the list goes on.

✧ i love autobiographical comics & manga! some personal favorites: spinning by tillie walden, my lesbian experience with loneliness by kabi nagata, and blank canvas by akiko higashimura.

✧ i've been drawing since i could pick up a pencil, and while the quantity of art i make waxes and wanes over the years, i will never stop!

#pinned post #introduction

[crazyblondelife]

A Fall Tablescape and My New Thanksgiving Ebook (Survive the holiday with ease)

It’s very satisfying to start with an idea and create something beautiful!

~ Yours Truly

I’m a collector…I collect dishes, silver, vases, beautiful objects. There are times when I think I need to let go of my stuff and clear out the clutter and there are times when I’m so thankful I have these collections to pull from when I’m feeling creative. I go back and forth between wanting to be a minimalist and trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m a maximalist who loves to be organized. I’m not sure the two go together, especially given the busy life that I’m currently living. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t dream about having “a place for everything”, but then my busy brain thinks of a project or table setting or blog post and I’m running around gathering things and putting them in piles for when I have time to create the table or the post or whatever else I’m imagining. Then I look around at the piles and get stressed because everything is a mess! I think that’s a creative brain at work and I probably just need to embrace it!

There is a point to this ramble…

Recently, I attended an event in Chapel Hill, NC called Design Matters. It was an event to raise money for the UNC Children’s Hospital which is such a great cause. This was a two day event and the focus was about why design matters in our lives! James Farmer, the famous interior designer and gardener, was the keynote speaker on the first day and I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed hearing him speak. He is a Southern gentleman at heart and such an endearing person. If you don’t know James Farmer, I highly recommend all of his books…you’ll definitely be inspired.

Day two of the Design Matters event featured Caroline Gidiere who is an interior designer from Birmingham, Alabama. Caroline was also such a great and inspiring speaker! We ate lunch while we listened to her speak and enjoyed pictures of her beautiful home and projects that she had worked on. I left with many ideas to implement in our home.

The speakers at the Design Matters event were fabulous, but I’ll have to say that the highlight for me was viewing the many tablescapes that were created by designers and shop owners in the area. From Christmas tables to Thanksgiving tables and everything in between…my mind was spinning when I left. I took mostly videos on my phone because I wanted to be able to recreate some of the tables and put my spin on them. I’m sharing a couple of pictures below…kicking myself for not taking more!

One thing that I learned…

Almost every table had a beautiful arrangement of flowers in the center, but what really made the tables look so beautiful was what had been placed on the table around the flowers. It was like the flowers were the center of the arrangement but there was also an arrangement around the flowers. Look at my table below and you’ll see what I’m talking about. Around the flower vase, I added apples, votive candles, more hydrangeas, ivy, pumpkins, etc. This made the table so interesting, visually appealing and full!

One of my favorite purchases this year has been this little round bistro table with 4 chairs. I’ve used it for so many photo shoots and it fits perfectly in our gazebo. I decided to create a fall tablescape while I was still full of inspiration from the Design Matters event and i was so pleased with how it turned out.

For the center of the table, I used an arrangement that I purchased at the Design Matters event (these were on the lunch tables and were sold afterward). After placing the flowers in the center of the table, I added hydrangeas from my yard, ivy, small pumpkins, votive candles and then I began to set the table.

I love to mix styles of plates and glasswear…I don’t think it matters as long as there is a common color and each piece is beautiful. I used square placemats, pink and white dishes from Haand Ceramics (don’t forget to use code CRAZYBLONDELIFE for 15% off), antique linen napkins, amber glass champagne glasses, small vintage juice glasses and ivory pearl flatware. I added small vintage bowls filled with crackers around each plate along with small bowls (also from Haand filled with ). The mixture of the more contemporary plates with the vintage items along with the fullness of the center of the table, really was beautiful!

The combination of the white plates along with the pink and brown made for the perfect outdoor table setting and matched the flowers perfectly! As I said above, I love mixing contemporary with vintage and these little pink bowls looked amazing on the vintage, gold rimmed glass tray! If you’re unsure of what will look good together, just get it all out and play around until it makes you happy! It’s very satisfying to start with an idea and create something beautiful!

I’m so glad you’ve scrolled this far because I’m sharing a link for my Thanksgiving E-Book! My daughter Rebecca helped put this together and it’s something you’re going to love! Just click the link to get tips for organization, recipes, outfit ideas and more to make this Thanksgiving the BEST EVER!

Below are a few pictures of my favorite table setting. you can easily see what I’m talking about with the fabulous velvet pumpkins piled up around the base of the flower vase and the taper candles. This arrangement was huge and so beautiful! The picture…bottom right was another of my favorites!

I’ve made a small boutique below that contains a few of the items I’ve mentioned! I’m planning on doing a little more research on vintage items that I’ll add! Thanks so much for reading today! I hope you’re inspired to create a beautiful table of your own and I hope you enjoy the Thanksgiving Survival Guide!!

#Table Setting #Tablescapes #Fall Tables #Design Inspiration

[dailyadventureprompts]

Drafting The Adventure: Hitting a Wall

I know the signs before I really start to feel them, I start trawling through my notes looking for validation, I find it hard to concentrate on anything even if it’s pure entertainment, my thoughts become slippery and recursive as I think through the same few phrases or sensations on loop.

By the time I realize that I’ve hit a creative block I’ve usually been spinning my wheels for two or three days, letting everything else in life distract me from the fact that I haven’t put words on the page or made progress on one of my current projects. Then I feel guilty for not being productive and angrily stare at a blank page for the remainder of my freetime slowly making myself worse, and still getting nothing done.

It’s a cycle that I’ve been fighting for years, and one of the predominant sources of despair in my early life once my brain had associated creative accomplishment with self worth. I now know mostly that I’m not any better or worse a person because of my rate of output, but that doesn’t change the fact that I really LIKE the feeling of being creative and clever and creative blocks stand in the way of that feeling.

Lets use my most recent block as an example: I wanted to write a player home type adventure prompt where after doing a solid for the local nobility the heroes are suddenly bestowed with a knighthood and a keep overlooking the town they’d been adventuring out of. I found a really solid piece of art that captured the mood I wanted for the prompt ( sometimes the hardest part of running this blog) but when it came to actually detailing ideas for what the castle was like my brain just sort of... stopped. Sure I had a couple of ideas but they didn’t really form into anything actionable, and those concepts that managed to make it into the page were long, rambling, and frankly uninteresting.

I’d hit a wall, and it wasn’t until I was honest with myself that I had an actual problem that I could start doing something about it. Lets look at some of my solutions:

Back to the Drawing Board: While I’ve now spent several years attempting to surmount my creative blocks, it’s only recently that I’ve come to realize that blocks occur not because I’ve just run out of creative juice/have gotten stupider/angered my muse, but because I’ve committed to a flawed idea and I need to back up and plot a new way to act on my inspiration.  if I’m having problems finishing a sentence, I go back to the start of the paragraph, if I’m having trouble with a paragraph I go back to the start of the whole document, If I’m having trouble with the idea, I go back to what made me think that Idea was going to be fun in the first place.

Recognize the learning opportunity when it hits you in the face: No one is born inherently creative, it’s a process of refining your skills over time so when you encounter challenges in the future, you’ve already developed the tools needed to overcome them. Each problem then becomes an opportunity to improve, until you can gladly flaunt the things that would have stopped a younger version of yourself dead in their tracks. In this instance, figuring out how my creative blocks affect my brain will not only let me avoid them in the future, but get past them when I inevitably make a misstep.

Give your brain something else to chew on: I was already half way through thinking “maybe I should analyze why I run into walls and how I get out of them so I can implement that strategy on a wider scale” when I realized I was drafting this post in my head. Making it has not only helped me formalize a few strategies I’m going to use going further, but given me enough distance from the project that was stonewalling me that I can begin to rethink it, rather than try to “solve” what I’d already put down.

Why isn’t this working?: I’ve asked myself this question many times when I feel like I’ve run into a creative dead end, but it wasn’t until this most recent hurdle that I realized I’d never defined what “working” meant. comparing this prompt against several others that HAD worked made me realize that when I’d given the party a place to stay, I’d always paired that with a significant quest that came before/after, which I neglected to do for this particular prompt because it was already intended as a followup.  Using the fort as a launching point for a new story is going to give me all the inspiration I need.

#it's a process #dnd #dungeons and dragons #adventure #5e homebrew #homebrew adventure #DM advice #dm tips #dm tools #dm tip #drafting an adventure #writer's block

[thewoodbine]

A newcomer enters the building, holding a large picnic basket in his hands that seems a bit too heavy for him to carry. A purple cloak (that seems a tad too large for his small frame) hangs loosely around his shoulders, and he looks a bit out of breath - as if he’s come a long way. Looking around he seems extremely confused, and slightly nervous judging by the trembles that occasionally run through him.

“Hello?” He asks, wincing at the volume of his own voice, “I was curious about uh…” He runs a hand through his curly black hair, body tilting as he goes back to fumbling with his basket, “I was curious about just- ya know- stopping by and saying howdy!” The boy finally drops the picnic basket by his feet before straightening up, adjusting his cloak a bit before finally seeming to relax.

“I’m Milo. I realized I never introduced myself. Beginner witch, been working on my craft for about a year and a half, and I’m always looking to learn more. Particularly tarot work!”

After another second Milo goes and pulls something from his basket, a container of well worn tarot cards that sparkle gold under the light. He brandishes them with a flair, “I’ve seen a lot of conflicting information so I thought I’d ask, what’s your opinion on reading reversals in tarot? Like if the card shows up upside down.”

It wasn't uncommon for confusion to be the dominant expression on people's features entering into an occult space, even by those who knew exactly what they were walking into beforehand. So Mae didn't mind a bit when everything about the newcomer screamed uncertain. Grinning her ring adorned fingers kept her own cards neatly in place and fiddled idly with the corners while he took a seat. " Well then, welcome!" She had gotten in the craft so young, it was hard to remember what it was like for it all to be so new, but she got a nice sample taste anytime she took on a new subject or magical school. At any rate Milo seemed a lovely sort, the kind that reminded her of moss. She was a great fan of good moss.

" That's a really good question actually, and one that gets covered in the tarot community a lot."

🃏 On Reading Reverse Cards In Tarot 🃏

"Reading reversals can add a whole second world to your tarot readings. It's like getting to take a peep at both sides of the coin. They are very valuable to a lot of readers, but in the same vein, they can derail someone who is trying to push themselves to use a system they don't understand or jive with.

What I have to bring to the discussion is to look at your deck and purpose to decide. For example, my current favorite deck right now is the Victorian Fairy Tarot." She motions to a set of golden yellow cards with bluebells and greenery on the backs. " Like the fae they are inspired by the cards have enough bite all on their own. Some of the cards are-well- they're brutal. I do not need reversals to give me contrast and depth to my reading. They get highly specific without reversals, so I don't use them. I don't think they would add anything here. My Illuminated Tarot Deck is actually an Oracle deck and everything inside comes at it from a positive spin. There are no traditionally negative cards. I could read it reverse if I need them to be more specific or realistic, but really I pick these cards when someone is seeking advice or comfort. Not warnings or scolding. So I don't use reverse on them either unless they're the only deck on me and I'm in a pinch.

A Raider Waite though is kind of your catch-all, and well, you get twice the amount of detail and precision reading reverse than if you only interpreted them one way. So I definitely use reversals then.

Starting out though, I wouldn't recommend it. That is just because you have so much overwhelming amount of information to learn about your cards and your spreads that you don't need to double the learning load. Once you have a good handle on reading upright though, see how you feel about reversing and how that impacts your readings. If you think it adds more depth and authenticity- keep it! If it just confuses you, leave it aside.

Ask yourself this: Does reading reversals add anything to this reading? What might get lost in reversals? Does this deck already have a checks/balances system in place? Does the spread? Do I feel readings with reversals end up more or less accurate?

At the end of the day- reversals are a stylistic choice. It's basically deciding to up the shadows on a painting. If you don't know how to shade, you'll just make a blurry mess. But other people- shadows are most of the substance in their style and it looks amazing. Some people work best in pastels or using shading sparingly. You'll find your own artistic flair to help you interpret the images you find yourself making."

#witch #occult #pagan #magick #tarot #divination #cartomancy #witchcraft #wicca #witchblr #baby witch #witchy #witchy things #witchyvibes #witches of tumblr #paganism #tarot reading #tarotblr

[oficmag]

Contributor Spotlight: JJ

Now that Issue #1 is live, we at OFIC Mag are excited to shine a light on some of the amazing contributors from our inaugural issue. We hope you all love them as much as we do!

Today’s spotlight is on JJ | @JJLinwood and @trickybonmot, who wrote “The Attended” for Issue #1.

Tell us a bit about yourself!

I'm a mother of two and a slow but passionate fanfic reader and writer. I've had many a hyperfixation over the years, from spinning wool to baking macarons. I'm currently really into photographing moss. I'm also finally getting into vidding, after years and years of listening to songs on repeat and thinking "Who can I get to make a vid of this???"

How did you find fandom?

My first brush with fandom was the snailmail newsletter for Queen's Own, the Mercedes Lackey fan club. I definitely had my own self-insert character and privately wrote fic about her being lifebonded—I mean, soulmates—with angsty side characters, without mailing in a release form, which I felt very guilty about. Once the internet came along I fell into fannish things so gradually that I really don't remember how it happened. Usenet and Livejournal were involved.

What fandom are you in now and what brought you here?

I'm STILL deep in Modao Zushi aka MDZS aka The Untamed aka CQL fandom. I was brought here by...a tumblr gifset! I could probably dig up the exact one. It hit me like a lightning strike. I mainlined the series as fast as I could and never looked back.

What’s your favorite book of all time and what do you love about it?

I'm so excited to tell you that my favorite book is The Other Wind by Ursula K. Le Guin. I love it because it is so gentle, a story of monumental events told through the most humane, compassionate lens. The conflicts are so delicately wrought, the characters so carefully chosen. There's no violence in it, not one fist or sword or even really a spell, although it concerns magic deeply. Not to mention that the prose is absolutely pure, and the landscape is so beautiful and familiar to the heart. The epigraph is a poem that belongs to the book's world, and it makes me cry all by itself. This book sent me on a journey of reading Le Guin's early works, and it's an absolute delight to see how her approach changed over time, the things she got good at, the things she came to believe were important. 

What projects are you working on right now?

I'm working on a fantasy novel that has been with me for a long time, about two boys who discover they can do magic together and how they change each other's lives (spoiler: they're in love). Also, a fanfic inspired by “Papa Don't Preach,” some simmering ofic short stories, and did I mention I'm learning to vid??

What are your aspirations as a writer, big picture or small?

I want to express myself honestly, and I want to have my stuff out there being read by the people who need it in that moment. I think that's the best I could ask for.

If you could give one piece of advice to beginning writers, what would you tell them?

I sort of still feel like I am one, even though I've been at it for a while! I learned a lot about writing from knitting. I learned that as long as you keep going little by little, it will get done. If you don't, it won't. And mistakes are part of the process.

THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF THE OFIC FAMILY, JJ! WE’RE SO THRILLED TO SHARE YOUR WORK WITH THE WORLD.

#bookblr #writerblr #issue 1 #spotlight

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things-First Day Jitters (Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None.

A/N: There will be a Part 2 to this piece based on S3E10 in order to give some groundwork to the dynamics amongst the team once the reader joins them. Enjoy reading! I had so much fun making this piece. 

The Purest Things Masterlist

au! october 2007

"Criminal profiling is more of an art than a science. Modeling a criminal profile demands the precise marrying of psychological and rational instincts with the crime scene's particulars. What steps would you take in the process of analyzing a suspect to form a solid profile," the stoic BAU Section Cheif asks.

"First, I would want to accumulate all attainable information about the crime to help explain the "how" and "why" of the offense," you counter.

"What kind of information?"

"I'd want to acquire knowledge on the victim to examine the victimology. For example, I'd determine the victim's career and place of employment, friends, family, social status, criminal records, and daily routines and habits. Then, I can look at the connection between the victim and the unidentified subject. Did they know each other, or are they strangers? Why was the victim targeted, and was it them specifically, or are they just one quarry in a tangled web of attacks?"

You look for some signal in Cheif Strauss's attitude as to whether or not you should continue. 

Let’s ramp this up a notch. 

Taking the liberty of doing so regardless, you continue.

"Then, I want to know more about the attacker. I want to classify him...or her, as well as the offense. Why did it take place at a specific location? What is the motive? Is the suspect an amateur or a professional? This collection of data helps to assemble a proper crime assessment. I can now paint the picture of what happened before, during, and after the attack. Next, I can start to hypothesize and formulate a complete profile; I can deduce the kind of person we are dealing with. This assessment includes the age range, social status, what type of career he or she may hold, their I.Q., anything that describes the attacker. Now, I can give the profile to investigators and work to capture the assailant. The profile not only helps track him down but also helps refine the interrogation process."

Pausing the video recording, David sets the remote on the table.

"Academically, she's perfect for the job, Aaron. But will she fit in with the team? She seems too well trained, too straight from the textbook."

"That's why I wanted you to see this next part."

They both watch you in expectation.

"If I may Section Chief Strauss...as much as academic training benefits a student in laying the foundations for their selected career field, all of the studying and laboring over perfect grades becomes virtually obsolete once on the job. Instead, implementing the mechanics and learning through experience, trial, and error is far more beneficial. Executing what you've learned in the real world and refining your expertise in the field is the only way to accurately reveal whether or not you are capable of doing your job."

Rossi snickers at your straightforwardness. Aaron crosses his arms, struggling to fight back the urge to smile.

"Care to expound on that?" Strauss proposes.

"You don't trust the current...organization within the BAU. You feel as though Unit Cheif Hotchner and his team pose a threat to the unit. However, I think you put more emphasis on the chain of command. Specifically, you don't trust Agent Hotchner. In the entirety of this vetting process, you have continually undermined the Unit Chief's role in selecting a new agent. He has not been included in any of our telephone calls. Never once have you cc'd him on our emails. Nor has he been invited to sit in on our in-person interviews. I think the only time I've set eyes on him was in the lobby. He seemed to be completely unaware of my presence and purpose here. I'm sure that were I to be hired TodayToday, I could walk right into his office, and he would be blindsided entirely by my arrival and position on the team. Now, if I am to be apart of this renowned group of individuals, I want to know that I will be a part of it. I do not intend to be an outsider in my field or a pawn for higher-ups' ulterior motives. So, with all due respect Cheif Strauss, I would like to withdraw my application. If any of the aspects that I have touched on prove true and impact my role within this unit, I have no interest in undermining an established team that has no place for me."

Rossi claps Aaron on the shoulder, "She'll do just fine."

**********

You step inside the lobby of the FBI Academy. Although the sight is not new to you after your intense vetting process, it now takes on a new meaning. You have a new purpose. Processing your surroundings, you regard the entryway's clean efficiency. Considering the darkness that looms over this bureau, the lobby is welcoming all the same. 

So this is what my tax dollars have been paying for.

Noticing that an elevator has arrived, you call out to the person inside one of the many lifts. They hold it open for you. The sound of your clipping heels progresses as you run across the glossy tile floor. High heels may not seem like the most logical choice for your first day of work in the FBI, but when wearing them, you feel elevated. As if the world is your stage and you are the ballerina dazzling the crowd in her pointe shoes. Sure, they are uncomfortable at times, but wearing them can almost be considered a superpower. A quintessential accessory of the iconic femme fatale.

The woman in the elevator gasps as you climb on board, startling slightly.

"Are those Jimmy Choos?" She squeals.

You laugh and shake your head, peering down at the patent leather footwear, "No. I wish, though! They're just some old Steve Madden's I got on the clearance racks." Seeing her shoes, you imitate her enthusiasm, "Those are unique! I've never seen a green...quite that color on shoes before."

Chuckling, she thanks you, "Shoes are one of the many ways I express myself. I'm pretty sure at this point I have a pair of shoes in every color for every mood. Today I was feeling a little envious, so I chose this lime green."

"Envious?" You ask.

"There is a Doctor Who convention going on this weekend, and I have meet and greet tickets for the entire cast, but I've been called in on a case. Meanwhile, three of my friends from counterterrorism are on their way to meet David Tennant as we speak. So yes, I am envious."

"Oh my gosh, I heard about that! Catherin Tate is going to be there too. God, what I would give to meet Donna Nobel in the flesh."

"You watch Doctor Who?" Her eyes widen.

You shrug my shoulders, "I'm a bit of a self-proclaimed Whovian."

Shoving her bags underneath her shoulders to free her hands, she stretches them to you, "Penelope Garcia. We are going to be the best of friends."

Taking her hand in yours, you introduce yourself, "I'm Y/F/N/ Y/L/N. I look forward to having a best friend in the building. Today is my first day."

"Oh sweetie, you are going to do amazing," she looks up at the floor number as the elevator dings, "Well, this is my stop."

Stepping off alongside her, you notice her slight surprise. "Mine too," you announce proudly.

"Wait," she whispers, holding a hand up to your face in a stopping motion, "Today is your first day. Oh! Are you the newbie?"

"Today is my first day as a profiler at the BAU, yes."

Stomping her feet repeatedly, she cheers, "Oh, this day keeps getting better! My darling, you will fit in just fine. Now come with me. There's another fellow Whovian I'd like for you to meet."

Following her through the enormous glass doors and into the department, you can't help but feel slightly overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle. "Welcome to the bullpen," she turns around, beaming, "Oh! Spencer, come hither, the new girl is here!"

The young man spins around in his chair and raises his eyebrows, giving you a once-over; he strolls across the office to meet you. You can't tell if he is too tall or too thin. Perhaps, his head is just considerably big for his body, or his lengthy hair gives that illusion. When he nods at you, holding his hand out to greet you, he looks slightly like a little bobble-head doll.

"Dr. Spencer Reid at your service!" He melodically sings.

Nerdy pipe cleaner. I like him.

"It's a pleasure, Dr. Reid. I'm Y/F/N Y/L/N."

"I read you got a full ride through college and graduated from Berkley with a semester completed at the University of Kent for Psychology of Criminal Justice, and you have a degree in Forensic Psychology."

You nod, impressed by his research—time to dazzle him with yours.

"And you, Dr. Reid, attended Caltech. You completed your undergraduate degree at 16, and you hold Bachelor's degrees in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy. Very impressive."

"You forgot PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering," he adds.

You nod, "My apologies."

Breaking a tiny smile, he shifts his gaze to the floor as you notice the light tint of pink shading his cheeks. Unable to resist, you feel the heat rise to yours as well.

"Ah! You must be our newest recruit—Benvenuto nell'esperienza della tua vita," a gentle voice echoes from behind you.

Turning around, you see a familiar-looking, dapperly dressed older gentlemen gliding down the stairs to greet you.

"And you are Agent David Rossi. I attended one of your guest lectures at Berkley three years ago," you reach your hand out to meet his.

"Call me Dave, and you can thank me for inspiring your career choice later. Right now, we have a case. It looks like it'll be a first day via baptism by fire for you kiddo," he lifts his thick eyebrows and winks at you. David motions for you to follow his lead, and you eagerly journey behind him.  

In the conference room, you are met with the eager faces of four other new colleagues. The first to catch your eye is the herculean adonis, whose attention fixates on you. You watch as his eyes scour you top to bottom, taking your whole body in.

Four words. Sculpted by the gods. Where has he been all my life?

"Where have you been all my life?" The statuesque man purrs, running his thumb across his bottom lip.

Ha. Jinx. You can buy me a drink anytime.

"Hiding from men who lead an introduction with that," you strut over to shake his hand. A knot swirls in your stomach as your finger-tips touch, but you quickly dismiss it as mere infatuation.

Throwing his head back in laughter, he responds, "I like you already. Derek Morgan."

"It's nice to see you again," the bright, blue-eyed young woman you recognized as the media liaison smiles, "I'm Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me J.J." On the day of your first interview with Strauss, she offered you directions to the Section Chief's office.

Next, Agent Prentiss introduces herself. Her thick, raven-colored hair elegantly falls to her shoulders and encompasses her diamond-shaped face. There is a spirited as well as clever expression in her eyes.

Finally, Agent Hotchner stands up. You are taken aback by his astute and severe manner. He's taller than you recall, although you have only observed him from afar. Like most men, he seems to have become an automaton of the modern workplace, measured and valued just for his productivity and obedience. He is tense, most likely swallowing intense trauma and concealing it so he can get up each day and do the same tedious job again and again. Most men display these traits in the way they parent, becoming domineering companions, stacking decay over destruction until their home-life collapses. What remains is a mass of bitterness resentment.

Yet, he exhibits none of this. Beneath this rather tough exterior, you can discern that he is the kind of handsome that infiltrates your bones, that exudes an air of olden times before he's even said a word to you.

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[yandere-society]

The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired 

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it. 

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story! 

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango​ 

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know! 

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon. 

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me? 

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire. 

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing. 

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together. 

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine. 

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk. 

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.” 

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.  

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water. 

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold. 

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight. 

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person. 

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear. 

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces. 

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field. 

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain. 

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me. 

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor. 

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist. 

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?” 

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-” 

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come. 

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

-

I’m chasing something odd in my dream. 

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing. 

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast. 

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains. 

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face. 

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am. 

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men. 

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail. 

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy. 

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

-

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two. 

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle. 

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit. 

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me. 

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family. 

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.  

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room. 

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?” 

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother. 

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.” 

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again. 

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites. 

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room. 

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.” 

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows. 

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely. 

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch. 

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant. 

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-” 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” 

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend. 

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.  

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me. 

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” 

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.” 

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more. 

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me. 

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week. 

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount. 

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly. 

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.” 

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me. 

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.” 

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand. 

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.  

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features. 

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire. 

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone. 

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.” 

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?” 

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.” 

-

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.  

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer. 

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.” 

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago. 

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well. 

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave. 

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him. 

-

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice. 

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing. 

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take. 

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I... 

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages. 

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl. 

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.  

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands. 

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.  

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me. 

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened. 

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain. 

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

-

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America. 

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!” 

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?” 

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over.  “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL 

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole 

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers, 

                                      The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.” 

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?” 

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace. 

-

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes. 

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!” 

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.” 

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns. 

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so. 

-

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse. 

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway. 

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this. 

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning. 

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger. 

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp. 

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper. 

-

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry. 

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief. 

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence. 

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in. 

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room. 

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room. 

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls. 

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well. 

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts. 

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares. 

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to. 

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I  turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn. 

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board. 

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us. 

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room. 

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me. 

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy,  dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!” 

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase. 

Mr. Jeon Jungkook. 

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.” 

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at. 

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.” 

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me. 

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of  this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor. 

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue. 

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second. 

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure. 

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues. 

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.”  My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise. 

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue. 

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.”  Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.” 

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously. 

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head. 

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?” 

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.” 

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.  

“You have my word.” 

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find. 

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.  

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?   

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not. 

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me. 

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction. 

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes.  The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.       

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more. 

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man. 

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire. 

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago. 

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.                          

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain. 

“I live to serve.” 

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses. 

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white. 

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up. 

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him. 

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed. 

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.” 

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on. 

 “The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us. 

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need. 

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing. 

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck. 

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his. 

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me. 

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show. 

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way. 

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought. 

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation. 

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets. 

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.” 

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt. 

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.” 

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! 

#yandere-society #yandere #yandere bts #jungkook x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #kim seokjin x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #seokjin smut #jin smut #jin #seokjin #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #jeon jungguk #jk #alice in wonderland inspired #the rabbit hole #bts #bts fanfiction #mintedmango #therealmintedmango

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Anything you write is so amazing so can I please request a marriage au and possibly mafia with Hyunjin. You can pick the plot!!

Hi! I’m not sure if you wanted smut, but I was inspired to write smut. Please enjoy.

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Mafia AU; Marriage AU

Warnings: Language and Smut

Word Count: 1.7K

It was cold when you pulled up to your expensive estate, bundled up in a luxurious coat and an evening gown that cost more than the car your driver had brought you home in. But no amount of money could improve your current mood, silently loathing your husband’s insistence, yet again, that you return home early and miss out on all the fun at your best performing club.

“Fuck him,” you decided aloud, slamming the door closed behind you as you marched along the neat sidewalk leading to the front door. 

For the past several weeks, you had done your best to run the club downtown where you entertained the wealthy patrons who enjoyed the rare alcohol selections from the bar. You were the reason why the club was so successful, but then everything seemingly changed overnight, and you would always blame the drunk, inconsiderate asshole who started a huge fight that had to be broken up by every security guard you had hired. 

By the time Hyunjin arrived on the scene, your husband was incensed, and he enforced a very strict curfew that prevented you from staying in the club past nightfall. “Extra security measures my ass,” you growled. “Who else is gonna run that place while he drives around town making all sorts of deals?”

He hadn’t always been that protective. When Hyunjin found you after taking over your father’s pathetic excuse for an organization, merging the two together, and sealing the deal by asking for permission to marry you - the gorgeous daughter who could certainly handle herself in a fight - he promised that you would be involved in every aspect of his underground mafia dealings.

But then the fight happened, and you were stuck at home bored out of your mind while you resented Hyunjin’s decision to keep you locked up like some kind of animal. The anger and frustration continued to grow each night you found yourself gazing out the window in the living room and wondered what was happening to the rest of the world while huge, well-armed security guards walked the premises of your home and kept you inside. “I’m not doing this anymore,” you decided, and you didn’t even bother to change out of your club skirt before planting yourself at the mini-bar in the kitchen where you would wait for Hyunjin to drag his ass back home. “I won’t stand down!”

It was a worthy declaration, and you were in the process of rehearing everything you wanted to say to Hyunjin, ruminating over the past few weeks of isolation while glancing at the fancy clock ticking away in the background. The hour had entered the early AM when you heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke on the phone to one of his subordinates. “We’ll meet with him this Friday,” Hyunjin said, and you watched him walk into the kitchen, startling when he realized you were still awake. “Yeah, I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

You smirked, waiting until he hung up the phone before speaking. “It’s about time you get here.”

“I had some things to take care of,” Hyunjin replied, and he must’ve been ignorant to your foul mood as he walked over to spread your thighs, making himself comfortable between them. “You’re still all dressed up.”

“We need to talk,” you said, deciding that it was best to get straight to the point.

“Sweetheart, what’s your problem?” Hyunjin asked, and you frowned as he started messing with the knot on his tie.

“My problem is you, Hyunjin,” you snapped, furious that he was being so nonchalant.

“Me?” Hyunjin scoffed. “What the hell did I do wrong?”

“Really?” You rolled your eyes at how dense he was. “Can’t think of anything?”

“Is it because I’m home so late?” he asked. “You know I work late sometimes, baby.”

“Quit calling me that,” you growled. “I’m talking about the new club. You know I’m the best person to run it, but you keep sending me home like I’m a kid or something.”

Hyunjin smiled. “Is that all? You’re precious to me, baby,” Hyunjin whispered, kissing you like you were something delicate to be treasured.

“My father taught me how to use a knife when I was ten,” you hissed against the seam of his mouth, pulling back to glare at Hyunjin. “I’m not a flower.”

Hyunjin scowled, and you realized that you had said something to piss him off, swallowing hard when he grabbed your arm even while trying to keep on a mask of false bravado. “I just wanted to come home and make love to my wife,” he said, and you winced when the hold around your arm grew tighter. “No,” he continued, and all previous semblances of softness were gone. “You want to be fucked, isn’t that right?”

“I want to be treated with respect!” you protested, yelping in pain when he forced you up out of your chair only to spin you around and bend your entire upper half over the counter.

“Is that right?” he growled into your ear. “You want me to let you do whatever the hell you want?”

“I can protect myself,” you said. “I did it before I met you!”

“But you have me now, sweetheart,” Hyunjin cooed, and you shivered when he started sliding your skirt down your thighs. 

“I don’t need you to boss me around,” you insisted, even though it was quite obvious that Hyunjin had had enough of your attitude.

“Speak like that to me again,” he snarled, landing a sharp slap to the flesh of your ass. 

“What are you gonna do?” you challenged him. “Fuck the fight out of me? Act like the big bad mafia boss who orders everyone around?”

“Maybe I will,” he whispered, and your next words were wiped clean around a moan when two of his fingers immediately penetrated your tight cunt. “Not so mouthy now,” Hyunjin said, and you whimpered at his tone, legs shaking at the fast movements of his fingers against your delicate walls, grazing that sweet spot with every stroke. 

“This isn’t fair!” you whined, but Hyunjin only laughed in response, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he brought you back against his chest, curling his fingers just right as he flexed his wrist with talented motions. 

“You’ll cum once like this from my fingers,” he said. “And then once from my cock.”

“Is this your way of controlling me?” you asked, wincing when he abruptly removed his fingers and allowed you to tall back down against the counter.

“It’s my way of loving you,” Hyunjin said, and you could hear the raw emotion in his voice. “I just want you to be safe and happy, Y/N.”

“Hyunjin...” you tried, but there was no finishing a coherent sentence when his fingers were back on your clit, drawing harsh little circles with his thumb while three fingers stretched the walls of your still-tender pussy, pushing you closer to the edge while murmuring sweet nothings into the hair at the back of your neck.

“Feel good for me,” he said, and you choked around a stuttered exhale when your first orgasm of the night left you reeling from Hyunjin’s dramatic shift to something soft and decidedly un-mafia-like. 

“Baby,” you sighed, allowing your forehead to touch the cool surface of the counter to alleviate the sweat building there, groaning when Hyunjin slid down your panties and started working apart his well-pressed suit pants. 

“You can cum again for me, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and despite the ache in your core, you spread your legs even wider for him when he started to push his cock between your gaping walls, replacing the spaces where his fingers had previously brought you to the edge. “So tight,” Hyunjin moaned, and his hands held firmly to your hips as he started pounding immediately, leaving you no time to adjust; although, you were already prepared for him because of the mess he had made from finger fucking you into oblivion. 

“Shit your cock is amazing,” you cried, tossing back your head against the fresh waves of pleasure, closing your eyes as you took everything he was giving you.

It almost felt like a peace offering, especially when your husband was more than inclined to take you over any available surface of your lavish home. 

“Yeah?” Hyunjin grunted, and you could practically feel his proud smirk as he gave you all his attention, working his cock at different angles and listening for your reactions: staccato moans and dramatic cries of his name. “Tell me when you’re close.”

“Soon,” you promised him, arching your back just a little more because it gave Hyunjin better leverage to hit your g-spot on every thrust. 

He took the hint, grinding his hips against your ass and working you over as only someone who had spent years learning your body could. “Do you need me to touch you?” he asked and you nodded fiercely, unable to resist the tears that started to fall when one hand returned to your throbbing clitoris, giving it some much-needed attention as the rest of you started to fall apart.

“I’m coming!” you cried, looking back over at your husband and nearly losing it at the sight of his concentrated expression. Sweat falling down the sides of his hairline, eyes focused on the place where he was pumping his cock inside of you, expression shadowed by the same lust and desire curling at the place where he was working you with his cock and fingers. “Hyunjin!” you shouted, losing every single last reserve of your inhibitions as you came for a second time, panting and desperate for him as he gave two deep thrusts before his cum joined your own.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, pulling his cock from your ruined cunt as you held on to the counter with whatever strength you had left since your legs almost felt numb from his prior ministrations. “I got you,” he said, reaching down to collect you into his arms, holding you close as he brought you both upstairs to your shared bedroom.

You sighed at the feeling of the satin sheets against your lower back, reminders of the extravagances that his mafia dealings could afford you both, reaching over to wrap an arm around Hyunjin’s waist to keep him close. “I know that you love me, baby,” you said, drawing his attention. “But I still want to work the club at night.”

“Y/N,” Hyunjin growled, and you savored the wild, animalistic look in his gaze that promised you both a very long night.

#hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin drabbles #hyunjin oneshot #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #mostlycompetent

[melianthemon]

✨💐Diana May’s Writeblr Intro🍇🍯

About Me

Hello! I’m Diana (she/her). This is my first writeblr and I’d really like to meet other folks interested in writing, so interact with this if you want me to check out your blog. Reblogs are appreciated!

As for other things about me: I love houseplants and have a spiderplant named Gerard Way. I love history and art. I’m pretty good at art myself when it comes to slow-paced, realistic traditional works. I run when the weather’s nice enough and I vegetate when it’s not. I really look up to Dolly Parton and may gush about her awesomeness on occasion :)

My main blog is @khloros and I follow from @eccentrichouseplant <3

About My Blog

The url of this blog is an amalgamation of Ancient Greek (which I’m pretty sure I put in the wrong grammatical order) but it’s supposed to say “honey-flower”. I’ve tried to learn Ancient Greek a few times, but it’s a slow process :’)

I tend to organize a lot so if you ever want to find a post of mine, it’ll be tagged well. If you can’t find it you can totally send me an ask! I love talking with people and am always willing to help out.

As I mentioned before, I’m new to writeblr, so I’m not entirely sure what to post. So far I’ve been thinking about sharing a few snippets, posting some information on my WIPs and characters, and rambling occasionally about my writerly woes. I reblog a lot of writing advice as well as some inspiration and things that fit my WIPs’ themes.

This is a writeblr and it shall be about writing! That being said, I’m happy to be derailed if you want to talk with me ^_^

What I Write

Most of the things I write are slightly off-beat. I enjoy taking common tropes and twisting them just a bit. Genres vary widely, ranging from historical romance to sci-fi family-bonding.

My writings usually reflect whatever I’m interested in at the time. I love to research and will weasel in little facts I discover here and there!

I also rarely write without humor. I don’t do slapstick, but I do do (hehe, doo-doo) little quips and ridiculous situations. I enjoy the balance between drama and humor and like to challenge myself to keep it realistic.

Along with that, I love happy endings and happy feelings. That doesn’t mean I avoid conflict, it just means that all ends well no matter what. I’m a stubborn optimist, what can I say?

What I Read

I read a lot of informational books, some of my favorites being The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben, Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake, and Bees and Their Keepers by Lotte Möller. As you can see, nature is something I’m very interested in!

I also read a ton of poetry! Ocean Vuong is one of my favorites. I actually have this little notebook filled with poems I like, all written in glitter pen.

As for fiction, the genres I usually go for are romance and historical, though rarely historical romance for some reason. I’m currently reading Spin by Peter Zheutlin but haven’t been able to get through much of it due to busyness.

How to Interact

If you only post adult content, don’t reblog from me.

TERFs/SWERFs and acephobes are not welcome here.

I’m happy to be tagged in anything, be it for a game or just to get my attention. There’s no rules regarding my asks, either, so feel free to send in anything. Messages are open as well! I take my time to respond but will not ignore anybody.

Current WIPs

Spades is my first WIP. It’s a western lesbian romance set in the late 1800s.

Two elderly women find themselves facing financial difficulties after losing the support of their families. In an attempt to earn enough money to live a few more years semi-comfortably, they decide to forge wills of John Does for inheritance. They travel the Wild West, committing these crimes, but things escalate quickly.

Spades is currently an unfinished first draft.

❀ *✧･ﾟ

Red Rover, Red Rover is a heartwarming sci-fi featuring a childlike rover, a confused alien, and nosy scientists.

A rover sent from Earth winds up in an alien’s garden. This alien is reclusive and awkward, having isolated himself from the rest of the town to focus on his small farm. Upon discovering the rover, he isn’t sure what to do. The strange, beeping creature resembles a child of his species enough for him to consider it to be a lost child. As he bonds with the rover, he becomes torn between attempting to reunite the child with its parents or adopting it himself.

This story was originally posted on AO3 with just one chapter, but I’ve been considering scrapping and rewriting it for NaNoWriMo 2022.

❀ *✧･ﾟ

Waxwinged is a WIP I didn’t mean to start but don’t regret that I did. I’ve been very happy with it so far! It’s a historical novel set in 1943 Illinois, with adventure and romance influences.

Most of us are familiar with the story of Icarus. But what if that story was brought closer to the present?

Nikolas is a young carpenter building a prison. He’s mostly content with his life—working with his father, knowing how to do his job well, talking with a pretty girl who hangs around the jobsite every so often. All of this is thrown out the window, however, when he and his father are framed (or not so framed) for assisting in the escape of a prisoner and are sent to prison themselves. They now must escape—but how?

Waxwinged is currently an unfinished first draft.

❀ *✧･ﾟ

The Knight’s Apiary (And Other Tales) is my newest WIP. It’s a fantasy novel made up of several stories, all of which gradually become connected.

Chalybion is a knight and a traveler who never stays in one place for very long. He hides himself behind his armor whenever possible because when it is removed he appears invisible to himself yet to others, he appears as someone they once knew but are no longer in contact with. One day, however, the tables turn when he meets someone he recognizes.

He must cope with the realization that there may be more to his past than he initially thought while still maintaining his duty as a knight. The novel follows him through his adventures in slaying various beasts, as well as taking care of an apiary in his free time.

The Knight’s Apiary is in it’s plotting stages as of now.

❀ *✧･ﾟ

With That Being Said…

Interacting with this post will help me discover the rest of the writeblr community, as tumblr’s search system isn’t exactly the best. Reblogs will share this with other people and I really appreciate them! No pressure to do so, of course, and likes are totally loved just as much. Thanks!! Hugs and kissies <3

#writeblr #writeblr intro #author intro #writeblr community #writing community #writers on tumblr #writeblr introduction #new writer boost #writers of tumblr #new writeblr #new writers on tumblr #wip intro #writing intro #anyways hiii

[pluviophile-bookworm]

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt.3

Ok, full disclosure: I should not be doing this right now. But I've been thinking about it since yesterday and, well, I reckon I can go over 1x4 and 5, and then move on to my actual work. So here we are. I'm really, really excited for these two, so without further ado, I'll dive right into:

1x4: It's hard to believe that I couldn't see... the majority of what happens in this episode when I first watched it

Why is Nini such a pro at making a scene with whoever her current boyfriend is in the middle of a public place? I mean, I get it that she's upset about EJ going through her phone — who wouldn't be — but maybe - and this is just a friendly suggestion — she could try and discuss that in private, not start a shouting match within view of all their classmates. Just saying.

'Ricky would never steal my phone' — well, perhaps not, but he's not quite above deleting stuff from it, either... I wonder if whoever is writing this show knows that there are many other ways to make a relationship unhealthy... it's not funny anymore. Just repetitive.

Ahhh Natalie and her emotional support hamster! At least there's one good thing about this scene.

Sure, Ricky, blame Big Red for the fact that you misplace your stuff... a very nice best friend he's got, indeed.

Gosh, everything is so awkward and there is just so much tension all over the place — Ricky's parents, then EJ and Nini, and then Carlos just being oblivious to the fact that they just broke up... you know, that last part just made me laugh. And then Ricky's reaction to his parents legally separating just broke my heart. That boy's been through too much.

Big Red being completely clueless about theatre terms is super funny and endearing, but let me just put myself in his shoes for a sec. He's followed his best friend into a badly thought-out scheme to get back together with his ex, got dragged into joining the crew, and is now expected to know what everything is. I would not put up with that... ok, who are we kidding, I'm a massive pushover and would put up with anything, but my point is... he shouldn't have to. At least people are doing the bare minimum to help him learn and nobody's laughed at him for not knowing. That's the good thing about this crew.

Ok, so I have posted about my thoughts of their take on What I've Been Looking For before, back when the episode was brand new, so I won't go into detail about that. In short, I think they've got the arrangement all wrong considering that it is a plot point in the original movie, but... the execution is funny. The scene is about Nini and EJ's post-breakup tension and it shows. I just kind of wish now Miss Jenn had pulled Nini out and put Gina in, even just for this rehearsal — and I might or might not be saying this as a Portwell shipper.

Miss Jenn is done with the students' personal drama and honestly, I'm right behind her. These kids are being completely unprofessional — and well, I realise that we can't expect them to be professional at this stage, but... they could at least try to concentrate on rehearsal and not their personal lives for a second.

Ricky hugging a cushion is my spirit animal. That's it, that's the comment.

Ahhh the tension between EJ and Gina though... 'around here seniors don't follow sophomores' — well, we'll see how it goes, Mr. Senior.

What gives Nini the right to shout at strangers about their relationship? I am honestly so frustrated with her these days. Wonder why I never was during season 1. The reasons are all there.

'He loves you' — yeah, like a little sister, he does. Also, Ash is so precious, always trying to see the good in other people. EJ 1.0 is so lucky he had her as an example.

Ok, I'm not going to go into what an amazing best friend Big Red is because we all know that (plus I'm saving it for a certain scene in 1x5), but this must be so hard for him. I mean, he's trying his absolute best to help Ricky feel better and distract him from his problems, and Ricky is turning everything down. I mean, I guess I understand where he's coming from too, but I'm unable to look at things through the lead-centric lens alone anymore. I'm more aware of non-lead characters now (some more so than others) and this is putting a whole new spin on my perception of everything that happens.

I've got no idea how Big Red can sleep with all this noise, though. I could never. But to each their own.

'perfect on paper' — that's EJ 1.0 to a T. I've got to give Nini that.

Ricky wearing the pride t-shirt... we love to see it.

See, this is why I keep forgetting why I ever shipped Rini and then remembering again... their chemistry is just so on-again-off-again, and here it's definitely present, but I just need a couple with consistent chemistry, you know. Hey, isn't that kind of what All I Want is about? Kind of. I don't know. I've been unable to listen to that song ever since it got big irl. I have this... problem with media that becomes popular and mainstream... I mean, I never hold a grudge against things just for being popular, but I just... relate to underrated stuff much easier. Not because it's underrated, but it just so happens that nearly everything I like and relate to is underrated in some capacity. Even HSMTMTS itself — it's practically unheard of here in Bulgaria, so I would not have found it if I hadn't been looking for it specifically. Ok, this comment got derailed several times. I guess I'll just stop here and move right on to 1x5 at this point.

1x5: A bedazzled tablecloth, a perfectly balanced unicycle and bad reception at the barn... not the perfect ingredients, but they can still... Work This Out

'Miss Jenn says that's a life in the arts... well, that and almost constant unemployment' — alright, I know this line is not supposed to be funny, and that it's a painful reality for a lot of people, but... maybe it's the delivery. I just laugh every time.

See, this is what I mean when I say I want to see consistent chemistry — Seblos have it. I mean, I really don't want to jinx things, but... they do.

Big Red seems to be in a more... outspoken mood today, I guess you could say. Too bad Ricky is still shutting everything he says down. Seriously, Big Red and Seb should start a club for people who try their best to be there for their loved ones and still keep being shushed.

I might be super frustrated with nearly everything Nini says and does (can somebody please tell me why that is?), but... flushing her dress down the toilet? Major mood.

Listen, I love Miss Jenn and that she's close to her students, but... emerging from a toilet cubicle and inviting herself to Kourtney and Nini's girls' night was... Will Shuester level of questionable.

Ricky being the mature one about his parents separation is... I mean, it's admirable, but how did he move past the impending depression of last episode and towards being the one who tells his dad to get up and move on? Well, I mean, good for him. But I think the issue is far from buried yet.

'Friend of the year'? Ricky? I don't think so. First of all, if he were, he'd know that Big Red does not have two left feet. Wasn't it you, Ricky, who was stumbling over the steps in HSM a couple of weeks ago? You're one to talk. Plus Big Red's been listening and trying to help while you've just been spouting off about your personal problems for... how long has it been now? I get it, Ricky has issues that he needs to work through, but he's almost legally blind in both eyes when it comes to Big Red.

Ok, but Ricky is the epitome of 'cannot solve his own problems but has a suggestion on how everybody else should solve theirs' in this episode. Maybe take a step back and listen to your own advice?

'My parents think I'm bonding with the livestock' — I've got no idea why I find this line so funny, but I do. And I've got so much love for this entire scene. Carlos' reaction to Seb's response to his invitation is just... the most adorable thing ever! My heart might just burst. Especially given what we're about to go through tomorrow in 2x10... I am. Not. Ready.

The entire karaoke scene just reminds me of... pretty much every extended family reunion on my mum's side. Her cousins love karaoke and are also completely tone-deaf. I love it that they're able to have fun with it, but my ears are still recovering from my great aunt's birthday party two years ago.

'When did you become Nini?' — Why does Mr. Mazzara know so much about his students' dating lives? I mean, Miss Jenn does, too, but he doesn't strike me as someone as invested in them as her. Idk, it just struck me as kind of weird.

'I didn't agree to photos' — please, EJ, I'm sure you'll want memories from your first fake-dating gig with Gina... once you're no longer fake-dating, you know. Boy, these two are going to have stories to tell to their grandchildren.

I've said some stuff about Nini, but... 'a bedazzled tablecloth' is the funniest description I've heard for Gina's homecoming dress.

'Maybe it's not actually about you at all.' Yeah, you tell him, Reddy! Ricky needs to get over himself.

The way Big Red sniffs out the drama, though... I was not-so-randomly reminded of that moment in 2x9 where Seb was like Carlos. and Big Red was like, 'Are you guys fighting?'...

Big Red doing a comedic lip-reading of Gina and EJ's dramatic scene is absolutely hilarious. I might or might not have sold my heart and soul to him after seeing that scene for the first time. But I just remembered how he said earlier that maybe he can't read lips and that just makes this 100% funnier — he was basically like a child who can't read yet making up a story based on the pictures in a book, and I mean it in the best way possible. He's a theatre dark horse, this one, and they should all be intimidated — or inspired, whatever they choose — by his hidden talents. Gosh, I love this guy. But can you blame me?

'You think I'm actually going to confide in you?' — Absolutely. You can't bully someone from your position of authority over them and then act like you're their friend. I do know now that Mr. Mazzara has hidden depths, but he had no right to be as rude to Carlos as he was in 1x3. He was right about one thing, though — Carlos doesn't need a dance partner to dance.

Ricky saying he was going to apologise to Gina and counting that as an apology is giving me major TJ/ Buffy flashbacks. I wonder why that is... * sarcasm *

Nini feeling like a fraud makes me actually sympathise with her for a second. But I feel like Nini's flaw of defining herself through boys and Ricky in particular has been addressed one time too many now, since it was first addressed here in this episode. If they make her and Ricky get back together again in season 2, I will riot. [side note: I feel like the Born to Be Brave scene says a lot about both Rini and Seblos as couples. Nini and Carlos both feel, in the moments leading up to the song, like they are incomplete without their partners. Ricky, too, has built his personality entirely around Nini at that time (and is still not completely over that in s2). And then the song comes in to remind them that they don't need a partner to be happy. I'm just thinking of Big Red's 'perfectly balanced unicycle' comment from the promotional materials, and of how he and Ashlyn, even when they're dating in s2, are never portrayed as being incomplete without each other. I guess there's a reason why they're the Beta Couple of the show — their relationship drama is nearly non-existent, and when it does exist, it's just caused by them caring too much about each other. Every other couple on the show should learn from them.]

Everybody supporting Carlos during the Born to Be Brave number just warms my heart so much... I am actually crying real tears. And then the end, when Seb finally shows up, right in time for the slow dance... I have a lot of feelings about this scene.

Seblos' dialogue here still kind of makes me cringe a little... but like, in a good way.

Yikes... Miss Jenn's getting into trouble... I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But she's lucky she's had enough time with her students for them to love her enough to fight for her. Still, this is a topic for another episode, and so I won't expand on it in this post.

Well, that's it. That was 1x4 and 5. Those were pretty much my favourite episodes when season 1 was airing. And I can definitely see why, even if my views on some things have changed due to stuff that happens later. But, as I constantly say, that's what rewatches are for. In other words, 'once more, with feeling this time' as my choir director used to say.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts: the rewatch #nini salazar-roberts #ricky bowen #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara #rini #seblos #redlyn #portwell #jnk

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Michelle Kiefer

Michelle has 55 stories at Gossamer. If you haven’t read them, what are you waiting for?! She has great takes on Mulder and Scully. I’ve recced some of my favorites of her fics here before, including Christmas in California, Making Other Plans, and Six Inch Valley. Big thanks to Michelle for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I’m not sure anyone is still reading my stories.  I haven’t migrated my X-Files ones to AO3. I don’t think Gossamer provides any viewing statistics. I’d be very happy to hear that people still like my work.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

My X-Files fandom experience was amazing.  I remember that sense of excitement and immediacy.  It was thrilling to write stories (and read those of other authors, of course) in an active fandom for a show that was on the air.  It was truly my first experience in an online world--a parallel world to my real life existence.  I learned how to keep a foot in each world.  As I recall, it was very hard to keep my focus in my “meat” world, when the online one was so fast moving and thrilling.  But I did get some balance in my life as time went on.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Message boards and mailing lists were my experience.  They were primitive compared to the pretty screens now.  I forged some amazing friendships, some of them with people I discovered lived relatively near me.  All I wanted to do was discuss episodes and fic.  The flame wars were a little intimidating, but also amusing if you didn’t get swept up.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I was very passionate about the fandom--as I said, there were times when my online life seemed to overpower my real life experiences.  I learned to manage that, and think I’m all the better for that.  And I found some amazing friendships that are active and thriving today.  I learned a lot about writing with XF fanfic.  The level of quality was stunning.  A decent percentage of fic were as good or better than traditional published fiction.  But there were so many writers!  I wanted to make an impact on the fanfiction world, but that meant taking my writing very seriously and learning to develop a story, pace that story, make it compelling and believable.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had a couple of coworkers that talked about the show all the time.  I was curious, so I watched an episode.  I believe it was the cannibal town one.  I thought David Duchovny was odd looking and wasn’t terribly impressed.  But I tried another episode - Wetwired, which blew me away with the morgue scene when Mulder thinks he’s going to identify Scully’s body.  Ah...I thought, now, I see what everyone is talking about!  And from then I was hooked.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

As I watched, I wanted more.  I was fairly new to the internet (frankly, the internet was new to almost everyone)  I found episode reviews, and some of them were fantastic.  Some mentioned fanfiction.  I was unaware of such a thing, though to be honest, since childhood, I’d been spinning stories in my head about characters on TV shows.  I found some fanfic. The first couple of stories were not great (at least one was horrible) but then I found some that were very good.  Probably a bit soap-operaish, but still readable.  And then I became voracious as I plowed through the mass of stories looking for the good stuff.  And boy was there good stuff.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I’m not estranged from it, but I don’t spend much time with it after all these years.  I’ve found fanfic in some other shows that I like and only occasionally read old XF stories.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I’ve not been as involved with any other fandoms, i.e. following commentary on the show.  I tend to dive into TV shows well after their heyday, so I’m always late to the party. I do read fanfic from other shows, and have actually written fanfic for other shows, but I need a really good idea to write.  None of the other fandoms for my other shows are as busy and active as XF, even ones currently in production.  And none of them have as much fanfic and certainly not the level of brilliance that we had in XF.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I tend to go for interesting partnerships, very much in the XF fashion.  And a flawed hero is always a plus!  The partnerships don’t necessarily have to be romantic---in fact I find I prefer those that are not.  Really, Mulder and Scully were the only ones I felt deeply as a pairing, probably due to the chemistry between the actors. But the partnerships have to be well-balanced and realistic.  I loved the characters on Sleepy Hollow.  The two main characters were very much in the mold of Mulder/Scully.

My newest passion is British detective shows and I’ve completely fallen for the “Morse-verse” shows, Inspector Morse, Inspector Lewis and Endeavour.  Less of an XF feel, but compelling characters with interesting backstories.  Other favorite partnerships in the British detective genre are on Inspector Lynley and Broadchurch.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

A bit less now, though I’m still involved with a wonderful group of ladies who love the X-Files.  When we get together for a yearly weekend, we binge episodes and eat impressive amounts of junk food.  XF isn’t on network TV these days, but if it was, I’d probably watch it.

A couple of years ago, I listened to Kumail Nanjiani’s XF podcast on my long commute.  I loved the commentary and interviews so much that I did watch some old episodes.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I don’t read much XF fic.  I’m currently reading in some other fandoms, but it’s harder to find good stories--the ones I follow aren’t very active these days and the quality just isn’t what XF was.  We were so lucky.  We had maybe 20 incredible top authors at any one time, then maybe another tier of 50 to 100  good to maybe great writers.  And with new episodes, there was so much inspiration. We were so spoiled.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Everything from Syntax6, MaybeAmanda, Kel.  A special story for me was “Strangers and the Strange Dead” by Kipler because I remember reading that very early in the morning in my unheated basement in the winter because that was the only time I could use our single computer without others in the family complaining.  I remember actually gasping at the big reveal in the story.  I can even remember the story’s opening line!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I was just learning how to write fiction when I was involved in XF, so I’m not sure my best work is there, though the bulk of my stories are there.  I liked some of the work I did with others.  I wrote Bone of Contention and Out of the Everywhere with Kel and I think that those stories got the best aspects of both of our styles.  For stories I wrote myself, I think they’re not bad, but they are rather short and it’s always easier to maintain a theme and style for a short story.  I liked Black Cherry Velvet.  I’m writing some Inspector Lewis stories that I think are pretty good--they benefit from the years of experience that I was gaining through XF.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Never say never, but I probably won’t write more XF.  I used to burn with it, but I think that got burned out a bit.  Still, I have such wonderful memories of the whole period.  It might be worth looking at again.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

As I mentioned, I am currently playing in the Inspector Lewis world.  It’s sad--it’s a very small and not terribly active fandom.  Sad that my best work is in an inactive fandom where I’m lucky if 20 or 30 people are reading them.  It doesn’t help that I don’t write the most popular pairing.  

But I’m really enjoying it.  I occasionally write for Man From Uncle, which really shows my age, as that was a childhood obsession.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

With XF, it was always a take on an episode--did I get a tiny idea that I wanted to develop, or was I not thrilled with the way something went on the show.  Now,  it’s usually a “what if” kind of thing where I get inspired by a possible event and explore how that would play out, i.e.  “What if this character had a one night stand resulting in an unplanned pregnancy?”  What would happen?  How would he handle the consequences of this?  How would it change his life?

What's the story behind your pen name?

It’s literally my own name.  I SOOOO wish I’d used a pen name.  But I was naive and fandom was so new to me that it never occurred to me that a pen name would be better.  I always told myself that my real name sounded like something made up, like a TV newscaster name, and I hoped people assumed it was a pen name.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My husband and my kids were the only ones who knew about it for many years. Then I went to a fandom/fic gathering for three days and had to explain to a few other family members and my work mates why I was going to Chicago on my own. It’s still mostly a need to know thing and they don’t really need to know.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’m on AO3 as msk.  And everything I wrote for XF is on Gossamer.

(Posted by Lilydale on February 2, 2021)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #michelle kiefer

[redsector-a]

AO3 Ask Game

I was tagged by @themarshalstale which, thank you so much! I feel like I always get missed on these (I know why, it’s been 84 years since I published anything but still). 1. How many works do you have on ao3?

46 it seems. Which...look I’m slow man so that’s not surprising. lol Also crippling depression does not make for much production, at least for me.

2. What’s your current AO3 wordcount?

309662 according to the stats.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

So do I could only AO3 or in like life? lol I suppose it should only be on AO3 since this is an AO3 ask game. Hrm. Basically AO3 can be summed up as: Marvel (in several iterations - all Avengers related) Torchwood Highlander But isn’t it more fun to consider my entire fandom life, which, I’m sorry, I’m old so...yeah. Not all of this is was published and beyond that a lot is not available anymore...which is likely for the best. Highlander Star Wars Babylon 5 Ronin Warriors/Samurai Troopers Marvel (again, several iterations also of note Avengers and X-Men both count) Torchwood Star Trek LOTR Stargate (SG-1, SGA) Mortal Kombat I dabbled with the idea of Potter fic but never got past the ideas stage.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1: You rearrange me till I’m sane Clint finds himself spiraling into a deep depression after the Battle of New York...until the Winter Soldier ends up saving him and inadvertently giving him a new purpose – to save the man that the Soldier had once been – Bucky Barnes. Not one to be outdone, the Soldier decides that his new mission is to ensure that Clint remains alive himself. Protecting a blonde man with a self-destructive streak is somehow very familiar to him. Through the back and forth of who is saving whom they cross the country and learn more about themselves and each other – and perhaps find a reason for living. 2: Five Dates Bucky Didn’t Realize He Was on And the One He Planned Himself To say that Bucky was surprised when Clint kissed him was an understatement. But it was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he learned they'd been dating for months without him realizing it.Clint gets whisked away for a mission before they have time to talk and Bucky is left to figure things out on his own - hindsight being 20/20 he can't help but wonder how he missed things the first go around.

3: Puck Luck Bucky Barnes is used to the ups and downs of an NHL season. He's used to the unpredictability of the game, knows that bounces don't always go your way, but that doesn't make a broken hand in the final third of the season any easier to deal with. Especially not when he ends up with an impromptu roommate/personal assistant in the form of one Clint Barton - his agent, Natalia Romanova's (rather attractive) friend he hadn't known existed before his injury.

It's just for six to eight weeks - what could possibly happen in that span of time?

4: Loose Lips Launch Ships

Based on the following prompt: “We go to school together and I think you’re cute and apparently you’re also the pizza delivery guy and my little sibling opened the door screaming hey sibling! you know that kid you’re in love with? you really weren’t kidding when you said his jawline could cut steel holy shit-” Bucky is the pizza delivery guy. Clint's younger (foster) brother has a big mouth.

5: Indelible Bucky Barnes has a pretty decent life – a good job, good friends, a cat that adores him - but something is missing. He’s always found body art to be beautiful and inspiring, and on a whim (and with the hope that maybe he can find what he’s missing) he decides to take the plunge and get a tattoo. That's how he meets Clint Barton. Clint's talented and compassionate and there is an instant spark between the two of them. It's not long before Bucky finds himself wondering and wanting more from the relationship despite the ghosts of the past that crop back up. Because Clint makes him feel normal in a way he truly hasn't for years...

(this was pre-Alpine so I was totally chuffed when canon confirmed Bucky’s status as a crazy cat lady (affectionate).

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not.

I really really really want to do it but I often times don’t end up doing it. There are a few reasons. First, I am akwward AF and bad at interaction adn I feel like just saying thank you would be...not enough? Second - I often times tend to like...turtle (aka retreat into myself) when life gets Too Hard/Busy which happens a lot to me (sigh) and then I miss the vague window in my mind in which it would be okay to respond and then it’s even more weird. I do love and cherish all of them. Like there was one months ago that made me go “hmm...I didn’t think I was going to do a sequel to that fic (You rearrange me till I’m sane), timestamp glimpses sure but a sequel hadn’t come to mind” but then the comment made me think! So...who knows? lol Anyway, I literally have been rereading some in an effort to try and get myself going again. Know that if you have commented, I love you.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

At the moment? Probably: Look at you look at me Bucky's in love with Clint - problem is he's really not supposed to be. For Winterhawk Week 2019 - Forbidden Love (I really don’t want to give away the spin in the fic but...if you’re familiar with the Secret Avengers Vol 2 run circa 2013ish (aka when SHIELD initially ‘took control of the team’) that’s a bit of a hint as to the spin). Were it done, Torch Song would be up there. ;) Torch Song Clint is sent back in time, via an alien device, to 1938. While he tries to figure out how to get back home, he takes up singing and entertaining to make ends meet and does his best to not disrupt the timeline.Then he meets a 21 year old Bucky Barnes. --- A torch song is a sentimental love song, typically one in which the singer laments an unrequited or lost love, either where one party is oblivious to the existence of the other, where one party has moved on, or where a romantic affair has affected the relationship.

7. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Does *wanting* to write crossovers count? lol I want, so badly, to do more crossovers and fusions (which...are kinda deeper versions of crossovers in a way). The only one I do have posted is a crossover between Highlander and Torchwood -

The Immortal Mr. Jones A series of vignettes (some long, some short) in the life of the newly immortal Ianto Jones. My most ambitions project that I have been working on since late 2011/early 2012 is a fusion of the Avengers with Stephen King’s the Stand. I will get that done at some point *shakes fist*  The Stand, for those who don’t know it, is an epic 1000+ page novel about a flu epidemic (I know) that wipes out over 99% of the population and then two figures representing Good and Evil pull the survivors in two directions for a showdown. So basically it’s a non-powered modern AU set in that universe. It’s a passion and comfort project. lol

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. Well, minor bitching back when I was in a prior fandom because I tagged a pairing in a fic but it was pre-slash and not labeled as pre-slash. I got hate on...I think it was Torch Song? And I’ve gotten hate on tumblr re me and my fic in general as well. Fandom! *jazz hands* Oh! And I’ve also been hit by those reviewers within Winterhawk (among general Clint pairings actually) who like rate you on either number scales or the “meh” scale. Which isn’t hate exactly but...it’s passive aggressive bullshit because I can’t believe none of them realize at this point that the authors can see their bookmarks - you know?

9. Do you write smut?

Yes. Do I write it well? I have no idea. lol

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of. Well...there was, I think, one of those reposting sites that had a few fics on it but I don’t think it was being passed off as someone else’s? I can’t quite recall. It’s why I have a note on AO3 about reposting my work anyway.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not entirely, but sort of. Let me explain - I am part of a PBEM game; which for those unfamiliar since it’s a term that was most heavily in use 15-20 years ago, in which you basically do a round robin type writing thing but rather than everyone writing the same characters you write your own characters and you play off what other people have done. Another way of looking at it is  it’s basically DnD without dice and written down rather than done out loud. You also don’t have to all be around at the same time. It’s a lot of fun and yes I have been in it for 20 years even though there aren’t many of us left but they are some of my dearest friends and fabulous writers. Wins all around.  One of the other writers and I have actually toyed with the idea of doing a co-written fic actually, mostly because we work super well together and keep getting ideas for things but can’t really do them as rpgs since the pbem style isn’t used much anymore.

12. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Winterhawk probably. Though, let’s be real - Han & Leia are epic and amazing as are John & Delenn (from Babylon 5).

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Does wanting to expand The Black Stallion books as a wee child count? lol Not much of that was written save for world building ideas but there was a great oral tradition of telling stories to my friends. Otherwise...maybe a tie between Star Wars and Highlander. Star Wars was a love since I was super young but the writing bug didn’t hit me until around the same time Highlander was a thing as well.

14. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? You rearrange me till I’m sane for sure. Though Torch Song, if it were finished, would be tied I imagine (I suck at picking favorites). Honorable mention to Puck Luck and Indelible. Tagging: I have seen this like a million times (okay 5) so I feel like everyone has been tagged already that I know. But...I guess... @vexbatch @crazycatt71 @heartonfirewrites and @disruptedvice sorry if anyone has been tagged before.

#icyredfics #writing #winterhawk #long post

[qwertyfingers]

WOO CONGRATS ON THE TEET YEET!!! also also, your poetry is beautiful. can i ask how you got started?

thank u!!! apologies for how long this answer got i’m waffling

so i feel like the start of my answer is kind of unhelpful because i really just. started writing? no one encouraged me or helped me or anything i really just ran with it on my own. a lot of how i write is really just how i think - the metaphors and similes and weird comparisons come very naturally to me. i have no idea if this is how other writers feel?? but i can’t give any advice on how to develop that beyond just. writing a lot.

i’ve find poetry to be really good emotional outlet, so a lot of what i write about is very repetitive in terms of themes - a lot of mentions of my dad and my stepdad, compulsions, teeth and while i don’t think any of what i wrote back then was very good or worth sharing it did give me a lot of practice in kind of. building a writing headspace?

i can’t really point to any specific inspirations early on because i really didn’t read very much. most of my favourite poems when i was younger were very structured and used a lot of rhyme - i really enjoyed war poetry when we studied it in high school for example - but i’ve always written pretty loosely, a lot of enjambment and playing around with formatting. i felt very drawn to mary oliver and richard siken when i discovered them in my mid-late teens (although i defintiely think that i understand them better rereading them now as an adult). 

i’ve written many different styles of poem, but i really only have two style of writing behaviour: either i write total stream-of-consciousness and don’t edit it until i’ve totally run out of things to say - pompeii, reimagined from this collection was written this way, as was FOIL - or i write very conscious of the formatting from the start - some examples of this are unholied, ajovy and my father thinks i should learn how to code. sometimes there’s a crossover like in inelegant fingers but typically its one or the other.

the city i live in now has a pretty big ~poetry scene~ with several regular live readings, even more random events throughout the year, and people regularly coming from out of town to read here. i hiiiiighly recommend going to readings if you live somewhere that you can get to them because it can expose you to a really wide range of writers, from first-timers to people with long publishing histories. being involved in that scene really taught me that there’s really no hierarchy of talent, that there are fantastic writers at every ~skill level~. and more than anything, that it’s possible to hate a poem or poet and still get a lot out of their work. i’ve made a lot of friends through going to and helping to host events too :) 

some recommendations for writing that i personally find useful:

spend a lot of time thinking about writing! when i’m out walking, even when i’m getting groceries, i’m spinning thoughts around my head about writing. i frequently think up what i think of as the ‘headline’ of a poem when i’m busy doing something else. write that shit down! keep a notebook or note on your phone and write them down. 

relatedly: absolutely cannibalise your old poems. if you’ve got a piece you don’t like any more, or that you could never finish but you’re attached to it, steal your favourite lines and work them into soemthing else, or challenge yourself to rewrite that poem in a new style or format

i keep a word doc full of lines and phrases i liked that i couldn’t fit into anything or that weren’t developed enough that i go back to and take things from. sometimes it’s just a handful of words - ‘ transposing neuroses onto neurons’ sat in that doc for months before i used it - and sometimes its entire lines or even stanzas. i also paste in here things i deleted from existing pieces during editing - sometimes you like something but just not in its current setting yknow

give yourself writing challenges! there are allllll kinds of things you can challenge yourself to do. find a photograph you like, and try to write the feeling it gives you, or write about the content of it, or from the perspective of the person taking the picture. pick an album or song and listen to it on repeat and write. go to different places and see if your writing feels different there. write a poem first thing in the morning or on your lunch break or write before you go to bed. write when you feel really happy, or scared, or angry or tired. write about someone you love, or someone you really hate. write using found-language - blackout poetry is one version, but you can also cut words out and collage them. a friend of mine wrote an amazing poem using ads on gumtree. i like to hit random page on wikipedia and challenge myself to write using the words on that page or about the content of it. i dont find timed challenges helpful but some people do. experiment! ask your friends for prompts! if you’ve friends who also write poetry, give eachother challenges and give eachother feedback

also, if you’ve got friends who write, absolutely ask for their input on a piee if you get stuck. my friend tasha frequently helps me with my grammar and punctuation to improve clarity and many more people have helped me with ideas, promts, challenges and encouragement :)

my personal favourite: write about fiction! a lot of my favourite of my own poems were about this. ;kodos in error - which desperately needs reworking but that i’m nevertheless very proud of - was written about the tarsus iv storyline in the original star trek. the only overt reference to it’s origin is the name kodos in the title - and it’s very much about myself too - but ultimately the entire time i wrote it i was thinking about that plot. i’ve also written about fortnite and the expanse  

play around with what you want from a poem. sometimes it’s emotional, sometimes it’s all about the sound and the feel of it in your mouth, sometimes it’s about imagery and giving the reader a clear picture of something. Sometimes you want to do something fun with the formatting, or make it short and snappy or long and lilting. Try not to get stuck in one type of poem. 

personally unless i’m writing for a specific thing - like a reading of to submit to a specific journal - i never think about a reader until i’ve finished at least the first draft. i’m not a professional; i share the things i like but ultimately i write for myself only. i don’t need to have an audience in mind for anything i write, and i think that helps me. not everyone finds this easier, but i do.

read poetry! read absolutely anything you can get your hands on - even when you don’t like something you can learn from it. poetry foundations 

talk about poetry! i didn’t go to school for creative writing and most of what i learned in HS went totally over my head, but i find talking about poetry i like with friends to be infinitely valuable. discussion will help you find things you didn’t see before, and understand why the things you do like resonate so much, how you can maybe replicate those in your own writing etc.

if you’ve never written before, it is literally never too late to start. just get going! don’t let your inner critic get in the way, just write and write and try not to worry too much about whether its ~good~ until you get more used to writing.  there are a thousnad different ways for a poem to be Good. if you write for emotional release and it works then its good. if you write to get other people to understand how you feel and that comes through, its good. if you just want to make it sound a certain way then its good. 

<3

[writingblock101]

Insufferable (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Request for anon: “Would you write a Damian fic that’s him basically being a total brat in the beginning and immediately starting an antagonistic or combative relationship only to be thrown on his ass when he’s like wait?? I think I actually like her?? How do I get her to stop arguing with me??

Word Count: 3,700

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013

You and Damian are 12 at the beginning of this. Enjoy! 

“That was awesome!” Jon grins. “But watch this!” He fires laser beams from his eyes at the target down the range. 

“Whoa!” You cheer. “Oh, I got another one!” You notch and fire six consecutive arrows, hitting the target in the pattern of a smiley face. 

Jon laughs. 

“Can you do any other shapes?” 

“I’m working on doing animals. Roy thinks it’s funny, and Jason wants me to learn how to spell out messages,” You grin proudly.  

You started as a street rat in Star City inspired by Green Arrow and Arsenal but you bit off a little more than you could chew. Good thing Arsenal was there to watch your back then he found himself in possession of a protege. To this day, Roy swears he still doesn’t know how you talked him into training you, but Jason told you he has a soft spot for street kids. 

You’re at the Justice League Watch Tower because apparently the Justice League wants to work out a deal with the Outlaws or something. You think it’s stupid, but you guess you can give credit to League for trying to bridge the gap between themselves and the Outlaws. Batman has failed for years to do so effectively, but then again, for the world’s greatest detective, Batman is kind of a dumbass. 

Luckily, you didn’t have to sit in on the shit show because Superman brought Superboy with him, and apparently Batman is bringing Robin. Jon speaks highly of Damian, but Jason refers to him as the “demon child”. Then again, Jason didn’t like Tim for a long time, but you think Tim is cool, so maybe Jason’s wrong about Damian. 

“Oh, great, another arrow,” A new voice groans from behind you. 

“Damian!” Jon grins. “This is Y/N, Black Falcon!” 

“I was expecting someone more impressive, but perhaps I had my standards too high for an arrow,” Damian narrows his eyes. 

Okay, maybe Jason wasn’t wrong... 

“Funny,” You raise an eyebrow. “I thought Robin would be taller.” 

“I am a perfectly adequate height,” He growls. 

“Okay, pipsqueak.” 

Damian rolls his eyes again. 

“It’s clear you’ve been living with Todd by your childish insults.” 

“At least I don’t get mistaken for a nine-year-old.” 

“Perhaps that is a problem you have. I am twelve.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

You watch his jaw clench, a smirk working onto your face. It’s almost cute how hard he is pretending to not be annoyed by you. 

“Y/N was showing me her archery skills! Look, she can make shapes!” Jon points toward the target downrange, probably hoping to diffuse the situation quickly building between you and Damian. 

Damian rolls his eyes, looking unimpressed. 

“What tactical advantage does shooting your arrows in a smiley face give you?” 

“None,” You admit, slinging your bow over your shoulder. “But I bet you can’t do something more impressive.” 

You see him rising to the bait as he glares at you. 

“I don’t stoop to childish competitions to prove myself.” 

“Come on, Dami,” Jon pleads. “Show us the trick with the Batarang and the apple!” 

Damian whips around to glare at Jon for exposing him partaking in “childish competitions” while your mischievous smile deepens. 

“Unless you’re scared of your party trick looking lame,” You taunt. 

“It’s not a party trick!” Damian barks. 

“Right because I’m sure you have a lot of use for being able to throw Batarangs at apples in the field,” You roll your eyes. 

“Target practice,” Damian snaps.

“And a normal target wouldn’t work?” 

Damian glares at you for a long minute. 

“Whatever,” He mutters, shoving past Jon toward another room. 

“Does this mean you’re going to do it?” Jon asks hopefully.

“Fine.” 

“Yes!” Jon grins, then motions for you to follow him. “Come on! We’ve gotta go get apples from the cafeteria!” 

“There’s a cafeteria in here?” You dazedly question, following Jon and Damian.

“Tt,” Damian rolls his eyes. 

While the Outlaws have some cool technology (especially Kori’s ship!), most of their technology pales in comparison to the Justice League’s resources. Damian retrieves apples while Jon explains some of the other technology around the Watch Tower. The three of you return to the training room then Jon tosses an apple into the air. 

Damian throws three Batarangs, slicing the apple into six even pieces in midair. He glances back at you, looking smug. You will admit, his accuracy is impressive. You’ve thrown knives before and it’s hard to be accurate throwing one knife at a moving object, much less three and slicing the target evenly, but of course, you can’t show that you’re impressed. 

“Hey, Jon, can you slice one of these apples mid-air with your laser eyes?” You ask. “I’ve got an idea.” 

Jon grins and eagerly throws an apple in a high arch, then cuts it with a blast of his laser eyes. You notch an arrow and fire it through the two apple halves, pinning it to the wall before it can hit the ground.

“Nice,” Jon praises while Damian looks bored. “My turn,” He hands you an apple to throw.

You toss it for him and Jon flashes his laser eyes again, but this time when the apple hits the ground, there’s a zig-zag pattern wrapped around it. 

“That was cool!” You grin. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Damian looking at the apple with an impressed expression. 

“Toss two at once,” You tell Jon, notching an arrow. 

He throws two apples into the air, then you fire your arrow through both apples, pinning them to the wall. 

“Tt,” Damian rolls his eyes. “Throw two more,” He tells Jon. 

Jon grins, then throws two more apples. Damian throws a Batarang, one side of it catching one apple and the other burying itself into the other apple so that by the time the Batarang hits the floor, both apples are embedded on either side of it. 

“I bet I can hit an apple before you can slice it with a Batarang,” You challenge Damian. 

A smirk crosses his face. 

“Be prepared to be disappointed.” 

. . .

By the time Roy came to get you, you, Jon, and Damian had ran out of apples. Instead, Damian was throwing one of his Batarangs with a hole in the center of it while you tried to fire an arrow through the hole. 

You notch another arrow then nod at Damian. He tosses the Batarang. You follow it with your arrow through the high arch then release, the arrow flying through the air and through the hole in the middle of the Batarang. 

“Yes!” You cheer, high fiving Jon and Damian. 

“Damian! Do you think you can hit one of Y/N’s arrows mid-air?” Jon asks. 

Damian glances over at you for a moment. 

“I can hit one of Y/N’s arrows easily, but will Y/N be able to hit one of my Batarangs?” He taunts. 

“I could hit it in my sleep.” 

Before Damian could remark with something witty, Roy interrupts. 

“And as much as I would love to watch that, I don’t feel like replacing all your arrows yet. Come on, let’s go home.” 

You frown at Roy but turn to Jon and Damian. 

“Next time,” You promise, then follow Roy out of the room. 

Jon and Damian watch you two leave then Jon turns to Damian with a grin. 

“Y/N is cool. I like her.” 

Damian rolls his eyes. 

“She’s insufferable.” 

“Sure,” Jon agrees knowingly. 

Damian glares at him, ignoring the mischievous smile on Jon’s face. 

. . .

You’ve never been to the Manor before, but a few months after the Justice League meeting, Jason had to retrieve some intel from Batman, and Roy sent you along with him to make sure Jason doesn’t start a fight with his foster father. He says Jason wants to set a good example for you so he won’t get in a fistfight with Bruce while you’re there.

“Alright, come on,” Jason ruffles your hair. “I know you want to see the Batcave.” 

Currently, you’re sitting in the kitchen, chatting with Alfred, but at the mention of the Batcave, your face lights up. 

“Thanks for the sandwich, Alfred!” You grin, chasing Jason out of the room. 

“Of course,” He smiles. 

Jason leads you over to the grandfather clock then moves the hands on the clock to a specific time. The clock shifts, revealing a doorway. 

“Whoa,” You breathe, following Jason down the stairs into the huge cave. 

You walk around the room slowly, taking everything in then you notice a figure sitting in front of the Bat computer. 

“Tim!” You grin. 

Tim spins around in his chair and smiles at you. 

“Hey, Y/N, hey Jay. I didn’t know you guys were going to be here.” 

“I’m picking up some intel from Bruce,” Jason tells him. “Roy made me bring Y/N to make sure I would be on my best behavior,” He rolls his eyes. 

“And I wanted to see the Batcave,” You add. 

“Bruce is in the back,” Tim jerks his head back toward a different area of the cave. “Come on, Y/N, I’ll show you around.” 

You grin and eagerly follow Tim around, soaking in all the information. He shows you the various souvenirs Batman has collected from the Rogue gallery, the collection of Bat suits and past Robin suits, miscellaneous technology, and the vast array of weapons. 

“This one is yours, right?” You ask, taking the bo staff off the wall. 

“Yep,” Tim confirms, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You ever used one?”  

“No,” You admit. “But sometimes I use my bow for hand to hand combat when I’m in a pinch. I’m not very good, but I’m getting better. Jason is helping me.” 

“I could show you a few moves if you want,” Tim offers.

“Yeah!” You grin then Tim leads you onto the mats in the training area. 

In comparison to Dick and Jason, Tim is fairly skinny. He doesn’t have the advantage of lots of muscle mass, so he has to compensate in different ways which is perfect for training you. While Roy and Jason are both good teachers, they are also both jacked while as of a year ago, you were starving on the streets, so you’ve been building your muscle back up, but you’re nowhere near their muscle mass (and probably never will be). 

Tim shows you a few moves with his bo staff and even finds a bow for you to practice with so you can translate the moves over to your choice of weapon. He also shows you a few moves that allow you to flip someone over, even when they are heavier than you. 

You push with your legs, driving your hips forward and pull down on Tim’s left arm, forcing him over your shoulder. Tim hits the ground with an “oof” but grins up at you. 

“That was good,” He praises then you hear a familiar scoff behind you. 

“That was child’s play,” Damian cross his arms. 

Tim sighs, sitting up. 

“Oh yeah?” You cross your arms. “Come on the mats, I’ll show you child’s play.” 

Damian rolls his eyes. 

“If I wanted an easy fight, I’d spar Drake.” 

“Thanks,” Tim remarks sarcastically. 

“Afraid you’re going to lose?” You taunt. 

“Tt, I’ve fought against opponents twice your size blindfolded and won. I don’t fear losing.” 

“Sounds like a lot of excuses to me.”  

“I spend my training time improving, not fighting those beneath me.” 

“Beneath you?” You question. “You’re three feet tall. There’s not many people beneath you.” 

Tim snickers from the mats while Damian glares at you. 

“I am not short!” He protests. 

“Sure you aren’t, champ,” You smile condescendingly. “You’re just fun sized!” 

Damian glowers at you then steps onto the mats. 

“Fine. I’ll partake in your pathetic training exercise.” 

You grin then Tim steps off the mats to let you two spar, watching from the side. You will admit that you may be a bit out of your depth by sparing Damian. It’s no secret that he is very well trained and an extremely talented fighter. You’re more a long-range type of fighter, but he’s too damn smug for you to not at least try to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. Somehow, you manage to shake out of Damian’s hold, flinging him off you. 

Damian is a good fighter, but you know you’re putting up one hell of a fight right now. He lunges forward, and that’s when you see your opportunity. One minute, Damian is upright, in fighter’s guard, ready to strike, the next minute, he’s on his back staring at the ceiling, all the air knocked out of his lunges. 

“Nice job, Y/N!” Tim grins while you cheer, running over to high five him. 

“It worked!” You grin. “That was so cool.” 

Damian slowly sits up, looking a little dazed then Jason walks over and announces that it’s time to go. 

“Bye Tim!” You grin then smirk at Damian. “See you later, Bat Brat!” 

Damian doesn’t even have a witty remark to shoot back at the insulting nickname you yelled to him. Once you and Jason leave the cave, Tim looks over at Damian with a knowing grin. 

“You look a little starry-eyed there, Dames,” Tim shoots him a shit-eating grin. “Someone has a crush.” 

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian growls. “I do not have a crush.” 

“Oh please, everyone in this family practically falls in love when they meet someone who can knock them on their ass. I know that look. You like Y/N.” 

“No, I do not,” Damian snaps, getting to his feet. “She is insufferable and you’re even bigger idiot than I thought if you think I would ever be attracted to someone like her,” He storms out of the cave while Tim grins. 

. . . 

Initially, you didn’t want to join the Teen Titans. You think something similar to the Outlaws is more appealing than the Teen Titans, but Roy and Kori convince you to give it a chance. The Titans had an especially big mission that they needed some extra manpower on so you agreed to help. 

Low and behold, no one other than Damian Wayne is leading the team. You stroll into the tower with an overnight bag slung over your shoulder, Damian not noticing you until you say: 

“Wow, Robin. I remember when I was taller than you. Then again, everyone was taller than you.” 

Puberty was kind to Damian, finally blessing him with his father’s height. While Damian doesn’t have near the muscle mass of Bruce (what seventeen year old does?), you predict that Damian will eventually be taller than Bruce. 

Damian sighs, slowly turning to face you with an unimpressed look. 

“I see your humor hasn’t improved with age.” 

“I see you still have a stick up your ass.” 

It’s been a few years since you’ve seen Damian. Both of you have grown more into yourselves and improved skills, but some things never change. 

“Why are you here?” Damian demands. 

“Didn’t you hear? I’m your extra manpower on this mission,” You grin viciously. “I’m Y/N,” You introduce to the few Teen Titans you don’t recognize. 

“Great, the Justice League is dooming us to fail,” Damian rolls his eyes. 

“They did that when they put you in charge,” You snap back. 

“Yes, and I suppose you’ve had lots of experience leading your nonexistent team.” 

“Cute,” You sneer, shifting the bag on your shoulder. “I’m going to go claim a bed,” You announce then wander further into the tower. 

“So, Dames,” Gar asks. “Who’s your friend?” 

“Not a friend,” Damian growls. 

“You wish she were more than a friend,” Jon grins. 

“No, I do not,” Damian snaps. 

“I dunno,” Gar trails off. “It seemed flirty to me. What do you think, Jon?” 

“Definitely flirty,” Jon agrees. 

“Shut up,” Damian growls. “I was not flirting with Y/N. She is insufferable,” Then Damian storms off. 

Gar and Jon exchange a look. 

“He’s so into her,” Gar insists. 

“Has been since we were twelve,” Jon confirms. 

. . . 

You’ll admit it. Damian is a good leader. He’s a smug dick, but he’s good at what he does. Of course, just like any other of Damian’s talents, you would never admit this to him. His ego is big enough without you inflating it anymore. 

And while Damian is a good leader and a fantastic planner, sometimes, plans go astray, like this plan, right now.

“Shit,” Robin curses. 

You frown from where you’re keeping watch while Robin hacks into the compound files. 

“What is it?” You ask. 

“They’ve got a highly advance software on here that will recover any deleted files from the hard drive,” Robin frowns. 

It was a rescue and extraction mission from a highly advanced facility experimenting on kidnapped kids to make super humans. The rest of the team was evacuating the facility while you and Robin went to extract data and destroy files. 

“So, we have to destroy the computer system,” You frown, looking at the vast system which spreads across the huge room then look in your quiver. “I only have two exploding arrows left and they aren’t strong enough to take out everything.” 

Robin curses in Arabic. 

“I don’t have enough explosives on me to destroy the whole system either. Perhaps Superboy could--” He’s cut off by the sound of footsteps running your direction. 

You draw your bow again, ready to fire. 

“Looks like we’ve been found.” 

As the first security guard rounds the counter, you let the arrow fly, shooting him in the shoulder. Robin uses a flying roundhouse to knock out the guard while you fire an arrow at a guard attempting to sneak up on him. You fire another arrow then punch a nearby guard in the face. Before the guard can recover, you backhand him with your bow then knock him backward with a front kick. 

“Black Falcon!” Robin calls, then flings a guard toward you. 

You fire an arrow into the guard’s shoulder and knee, the man collapsing to the ground with a scream. 

“We’ve gotta figure out how to destroy that computer without blowing up the building,” You grab Robin’s arm. “Come on, before they send more guards!” 

Robin nods, running back to the computer room with you, emptying the small explosives he carries with him. 

“These will take out some of the systems, but it won’t destroy the whole thing,” Robin frowns, digging through his utility belt. 

“What if I fire my explosive arrows at them? Between both of the explosives, that would be enough, right?” 

Robin pauses to think for a moment then begins arranging the explosives in a specific pattern. 

“Can you fire both of your explosive arrows at the same time?” 

“Pft, easily.” 

Robin nods then finishes arranging the explosives. 

“We need to get to a higher vantage point,” He pauses, looking around the room, then spots a vent. “There.” 

“Uh… You’re a little big for a vent, don’t you think?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at Robin’s broad shoulders. 

“Getting into small, high places is Nightwing’s specialty. I am more than capable.” 

You shrug. 

“Whatever you say.” 

“I’ve set the explosives to be a chain reaction. Fire at that one,” Then Robin points to the explosives at the top of the chain and you two make your way into the vent. 

While it’s a tight squeeze for Robin, he’s true to his word and maneuvers expertly into the vent. The only feasible way to hold your bow is sideways, but you’ve shot sideways plenty of times. 

“You ready, Bat Brat?” You ask. 

Robin nods curtly, clearly unimpressed with the old nickname. You grin at him then fire at the explosives. 

. . . 

The rest of the mission goes smoothly. All of the people experimented on are getting medical attention, any of the Titans that were injured are being patched up, and there were no casualties. You don’t mind the Titans. Heck, you might even join the team. 

Currently, you’re sitting on the roof of the tower, your feet dangling over the edge. While the Titans are cool, you enjoy your tall perches. You blame Roy for introducing you to the thrilling world of heights. 

Someone silently sits down next to you. You don’t even have to turn your head to know who it is. 

“You’ve got a good team, Dames,” You tell him. 

“They’re adequate,” He says simply. 

“That’s pretty high praise coming from you,” You tease. 

Damian rolls his eyes. 

“You were also… adequate on the mission.” 

“Aw sucks, Dames. You’re gonna make me blush.” 

Damian rolls his eyes again. 

“You weren’t too bad yourself,” You tell him, bumping his shoulder. “You’re a good leader. This team is lucky to have you.” 

You see Damian look down out of the corner of your eye. You turn to see him hiding a blush. 

“Aw, Damian, are you blushing?” You tease, poking his cheek. 

“Shut up!” Damian snaps, his face growing darker. He bats your hand away. “I’m not blushing!” 

“Sure you’re not,” You grin, leaning back on your hands and admiring the city. 

You two sit in silence for a few minutes, watching the sunset over the city. Maybe Roy and Kori are right. Maybe it’s time for you to join a team of your own… 

“I…” Damian starts slowly. “I enjoyed having you in the field today.” 

You look over at Damian with a shit-eating grin. 

“Careful, Dames. With words like that, you might make me think you actually like me.” 

Damian blushes again, looking irritated. 

“Your personality is insufferable, but you have good skills.” 

“Uh-huh,” You nod, not buying anything he is saying. “Is that why you’re sitting on the roof with me and not your teammates?” 

Damian doesn’t say anything which only deepens your grin. 

“I enjoyed today too. We work well together,” You say. “I think I’ll have to tag along on another mission soon.” 

“...I’d like that,” Damian admits. 

You grin again, laying your head on Damian’s shoulder. 

“You know, you may be a cocky son of a bitch, but you’re alright, Dames.” 

“You’re still insufferable,” Damian tells you but leans his head on yours anyways. 

“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling with that line.” 

“I don’t need to fool anyone, it’s the truth!” 

“Uh-huh, Dames. Sure it is.” 

Me? Write a Damian fic where I’m happy with his dialog and characterization? It’s more likely than I thought. 

Part 2

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #robin #robin x reader #jon kent #superboy #roy harper #arsenal #red arrow #jason todd #red hood #red hood and the outlaws #roy and jason are co parenting #it's great #tim drake #red robin #garfeild #beast boy #can't remember his last name #dc #batman #dc comics #I'm really happy with how this turned out