#((LEFT HIS ZONE// VERY MUCH ON PURPOSE

[xfgpng]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 …

— [ nsfw ] : threesome, jealousy, smut, fingering, DP

— wc : 2.1k

the n109 zone often hosts these elaborate auction events and y/n is no stranger to it. ever since meeting sylus, she was invited to join him as his plus one on more than one occasion and she was quite used to the way the people acted.

they seemed to enjoy flaunting their wealth and flashing their very expensive watches as if she didn’t have the richest man standing by her side, a man they all feared and well, some admired and some … didn’t have such innocent intentions when thinking about him.

not that y/n cared all that much. she wouldn’t lie and go as far as to say she wasn’t jealous but she was reminded enough times just how loyal the other man was to her and besides, he wasn’t the only one who adored her so much.

taking a seat alone at the bar, she couldn’t help but grin as she called over the bartender. he was immediately interested, sending her flirtatious smiles and making sure to touch her hands on purpose every time he spoke.

“good evening”

“i hope we aren’t interrupting you”

taking a seat on either side of her, sylus glared at the bartender while rafayel leaned in to place a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder. she did look very beautiful this evening, dressed in a lovely dress gifted to her by the man himself.

who knew red and purple would go so well on her.

she was also wearing a very expensive piece of jewellery from sylus, a piece everyone in the n109 zone wanted to get their hands on but knew better than to approach her when she was occupied.

“now sweetie, did we leave you alone so you can get up to mischief?” sylus frowns, finally looking down at her. from his vantage point, she could look down the front of her dress and see her pretty lace bra. she really was a pretty little thing.

“am i not allowed to have a drink?” she asks innocently, “you both had business to attend to and i got lonely”

“you’d be a distraction” rafayel takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. sylus places a firm hand on her thigh, gripping just shy of painful. “we didn’t mean to leave you alone darling”

“i was entertained enough” she grins, leaning closer towards sylus when he leans over to take a sip of whatever she had ordered.

“would you like to join us next time?” sylus offers and he grins when her eyes light up. y/n didn’t like to be left out of the loop. she was a fighter and could handle anything.

she was certain her everyday job as a hunter was far more dangerous than dealing with a few idiots who loved to gamble and sylus did teach her everything she needed to know about poker.

he slides his hand further up her thigh and maintains eye contact as he taps the bar. he was ready to have a drink of his own.

“you always smell so good” rafayel whispers, kissing the side of her jaw. he was right, she did but so did he.

“did you miss me that much?” she teases. it had only been an hour since they arrived and their meeting with the owner of this club only lasted 10 minutes. the night was still young.

“i miss you all the time” rafayel says, now lightly grazing his teeth against her pulse point. she huffs but it turns into a soft moan when sylus squeezes her thigh.

“god you’re so beautiful” she hears him groan, taking a sip of the strong liquor he seemed to enjoy. she liked to dress up of course but she loved having all their attention on her even more.

“yeah?” she smiles softly, “you should see the rest of it”

rafayel groans and bites her shoulder in retaliation.

“tease” he scoffs before sitting up right and ordering himself a drink too. y/n was interested to see how long the two of them could wait before they were dragging her back to sylus’ place.

she bit her lip at all the possibilities before leaning forward to finish her own drink. she was a lot more patient than they were and it looked like sylus still wasn’t too pleased with the friendly bartender.

she leans back again and gasps, forgetting about her little gift she prepared. she felt a little more sexier tonight and she had rafayael to thank for that. the dress was long and silky smooth. so soft against her skin and the shoes she wore made her legs look great.

she decided to reward them both for their hard work and added a few extra presents. she started with the perfume. it was their favourite on her and a little body glitter.

then came the very sexy and over priced lingerie she bought with sylus’ card. the man didn’t even ask questions but she knows her saw the price on his phone and he was definitely curious. then the cute little plug she got from sylus. he had it made with a beautiful gem stone, a mix of deep red and purple, no doubt because of their eyes.

he was a sentimental pervert like that and she loved it, even though she pretended to be appalled by it.

normally she liked having one of them prep her. they seemed to enjoy it a lot more than she thought and she let them have their way with her but after a long and tiring week, she wants to let loose and she wasn’t in the mood to wait to be able to take it.

she wanted it the moment she was alone with them again and she always got what she wanted.

“you okay over there sweet thing?” sylus raises a brow. she wasn’t a lightweight and she hardly drank so her being a little flushed had nothing to do with alcohol.

“yeah” she breathes, “just fine”

the plug was a lot bigger than a normal one but then again so was he and rafayael wasn’t exactly on the smaller side either so she had to be prepared.

“you’re squirming a lot” rafayel chuckles, “are you that eager?”

“well.. not exactly” she lies, keeping her voice low, “it’s just a little bigger than the ones you usually make me use”

she sees sylus clench his jaw and rafayel’s eyes widen just a fraction before he narrows them.

“y/n” rafayel whispers, back in her personal space again, “you’re a little tease and you do this shit on purpose”

“is that why you let that fool flirt with you?” sylus asks, “you intend to rile us up this evening?”

“i did no such thing” she lies again, smiling far too sweetly at them both.

“we’re done here” sylus stands, “put it on my tab”

“y-yes sir!”

sylus scoffs and takes her hand.

“you want a fucker who can’t even speak properly to fuck you like i do?” he laughs but it doesn’t sound good, “i’ll show you”

sylus gently pushes her into the back of the limo as rafayel climbs in the other side. she tries to hide her excitement as rafayael tells the driver to wait outside.

“i hate to ruin this dress darling but we can always replace it” rafayel says before he’s tearing the material off her body. it should not be as hot as it is but she moans anyway, grabbing onto his shoulder as sylus tosses the remaining pieces of silk somewhere behind him.

they both take a moment to appreciate the lingerie set. it would be a shame to ruin it and sylus aches to rip it off her body but he can also tell she put a lot of thought into their gift tonight.

“all this, just for us baby?” he asks, kissing her neck as he cups her breasts. the lace feels so good against her skin and she moans, legs spreading on instinct when rafayael moves to sit between them.

“you look good” rafayel smiles, it’s a genuine soft smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the situation but she doesn’t care. she’s happy they like it.

“i do love what’s underneath way more so..” he grins, sliding the panties off slowly before shoving them into his back pocket. normally she’d call him a pervert but she’s too focused on the way she’s staring at her pussy.

nestled between her wet folds is the plug. she must’ve been a little uncomfortable and horny since she put it inside her and the images of her fingering herself in nothing but the lacy black bra and high heels has him twitching in his pants.

sylus reaches down and brushes against her clit. kissing her before she can moan too loudly again. they were selfish that way, not wanting anyone else to hear her pretty sounds.

“fuck” rafayel bites the inside of his cheek as he pulls the plug out slowly before pushing it back in. they don’t seem to mind the mess she’s making on both their pants and when she hears a zipper, she squeezes tightly around the toy.

“there will be no taking it slow” sylus tells her, “you’ll take us both and then when we’re home, we’ll take our time okay?”

she didn’t know sylus to be this impatient. he was usually the one teasing her and riling her up until she was begging.

“he asked you a question my love” rafayel says, “you remember your words don’t you?”

“yes” she gasps, “i do”

“good girl” he praises, “let me test you out first”

she nods, gripping sylus as rafayel pulls the toy out. it should be dirty the way he puts it in his house but she moans at the sight.

“fucker” sylus chuckles.


sylus uses the hand not playing with her breast to spread her folds for rafayel. he slips 3 fingers inside her and it’s still too tight. he works her open like that for a while, wanting to make her cum at least once before they fucked her.

she was always their first priority and they’d never purposely hurt her unless it was something she asked her.

“please” y/n begs, back arching as he works a 4th finger into her. she clamps down around his fingers as she cums. rafayel kisses her as she comes down from her high.

she isn’t sure when it happened but she feels herself being lifted up and then she’s sinking down onto sylus. it burns so good and she cries out in shock. she was still sensitive from her previous orgasm but she hardly has time to breathe before rafayel is sliding in with him.

it’s so deliciously tight that she finds herself cumming again just from that. she almost screams but sylus is quick to kiss her, holding her waist.

“fuck” sylus groans, “fuck baby, stop squeezing like that”

“sorry” she whines, eyes crossing as she grabs his shoulders. she’s sure that’s going to leave a nasty mark but he never seems to mind, often encouraging it.

they didn’t do this often. none of them wanting to hurt her or push her beyond her limits. they didn’t mind taking their sweet time playing with her body but they were all a little too worked up and she was preparing for it tonight.

rafayel bites down on her shoulder, holding onto her waist just above where sylus’ hands are and she should feel a little ashamed but she doesn’t.

“please move” she begs, moving her hips on her own.

“dirty girl” rafayel whispers, thrusting very slowly as both him and sylus find the perfect rhythm inside her.

she hides her face in the crook of sylus’ neck as the begin to fuck into her harder and faster. she can feel the limo moving with them and she has a little bit of sense to be embarrassed. it wasn’t like they parked far from the entrance and the driver was right outside.

“so good” sylus says right into her ear, “you make us feel so fucking good baby, just you”


she bites down onto his shoulder as she wraps her arms around his neck. it feel good, better than usual and she wonders if it’s because they’re both so worked up.

rafayel spanks her hard before gripping her fat of her ass. he could never get used to being inside y/n, even if sylus is here with them. it feels good, everything about her was just so perfect.

“i’m close” she warns, eyes squeezing shut at how quickly she seems to be reaching her peak tonight.

she doesn’t see them sharing a look over her shoulder before they both stop moving.

“wh-why?” she cries out, looking up so fast that she almost gets whiplash.

“you’re just so pretty like this” rafayel sighs, thrusting lightly, “so we’re going to start again, be good”

she wants to protest but they start up a new rhythm, slower than the last but still so good it makes her toes curl.

“there you go sweetheart” sylus moans into her ear, “just like that”

[arjwrites]

left my heart at home for you to hold- dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: leaving you is the hardest thing dean has ever had to do, but coming back home is the joy of his life.

warnings: none, fem!reader

word count: .9k

a/n: my first drabble for my 100 follower event! based on the song russell county line by 49 winchester (how fitting!) thanks for the request, i hope you enjoy!! <333

arj's 100 follower event

xxx

“I miss you, sweetheart.” Dean's words came out almost desperately. 

The giggling of your response through the phone speaker sent a pang of hurt through his body. He was so sick of being away from you. On hunts these days, Dean felt like he was just going through the motions. He used to enjoy hunting, at least to some extent. He felt a sense of satisfaction and purpose when he ganked the monster and saved the day. But ever since you came into his life, nothing satisfied him like you did.

“When will you be home?” Your sweet voice bounced around in his mind and he held tight to the shape of your words, imagining them in the shape of you. Sometimes, when his eyes darted up to check the rearview mirror, he would swear he could almost see you perched back there, nodding along to the music and throwing him a cheeky grin.

A few days was the answer to your question, though he didn’t like it very much. Hunts these days felt lonelier than ever, and a routine three-day hunt stretched into lifetimes apart from you. Of course, his brother was right there next to him, thumbing through newspapers and lore books. Sam would jump right into discussing this next case the second Dean snapped the phone shut. But he wouldn’t hang up just yet. He’d hang on to this little scrap of you for as long as he could.

The hunt would go on longer than expected, like they always did. Each snag in the road would enrage Dean. He was always desperate, needy, longing to return home to you. More often than not, Sam would catch him distracted. He’d be staring off into space while researching, or zoning out while interviewing a victim’s family member. He just wasn’t on his game. It was like he wasn’t fully there- a piece of him was always left behind, his heart all those miles away, tucked into your gentle hands for safekeeping until he returned.

Eventually, things would come to an end and the boys would emerge victorious- sweaty, tired, and often bloody, but nonetheless victorious. Before Dean had you, car rides after a successful hunt were full of classic rock sing-alongs and lazy diner stops. It used to be a common occurrence to stick around, hit the local dive bar, celebrate a little. These days, however, when the bodies hit the floor and the case was said and done, Dean put the pedal to the metal. The second their work was done, he was ready to hit the road. Sometimes, Sam would turn away to say goodbye and offer some comfort to a victim, and when he turned back around, like magic, their bags were all packed and Dean was already posted in the driver’s seat, revving the engine and honking the horn. “Let’s go, Sammy.” As they hit the open road, Dean would press his foot down, reveling in the growl of the Impala’s engine as they barrelled down the highway en route home to his girl. 

There was a familiar routine when Dean returned from a long hunt. You’d always have some sort of meal ready, no matter the time of day, knowing he would be returning tired and hungry. He’d stroll in dramatically, tossing his bag down and throwing some sassy remark like “Honey, I’m home.” When you’d run up to him all smiles, he would wrap you in a hug that radiated the genuine love you had been missing. He’d pepper your face with kisses, absentmindedly recounting stories of the hunt that seemed boring now. Once he had you again, back in front of his eyes and in his arms, nothing else mattered. 

In the days between hunts, when life was normal for as long as you each could manage, Dean wouldn’t leave your side. He’d follow you from room to room, lingering in your presence for as long as possible. His eyes were always locked on you, drinking you in. He couldn’t get enough. Most often, he was quiet. His love for you was strong, silent, reverent, yet ever-present. But there were always moments where the feelings inside him became too much. They bubbled up inside him and threatened to spill out uncontrollably. It was in moments like this where he attempted to turn his sentiments into words. 

“I love you so much, you know that?” Dean spoke from his spot next to you as the two of you washed the dishes from dinner. Your beauty made the mundane so fascinating. He could see your face reflected in the shine of the plate you were drying, capturing your form in a way that was so uniquely you, and yet, could never live up to the real thing. 

“I love you too, Dean,” you hummed in response, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you placed the final dish into the cabinet.

“No, seriously.” He wrung his hands, turning from the now-empty sink to face you. “You’re home now, kid. It’s always gonna be you. I hate leaving, but I’m always coming back to you.” 

You smiled, wiping your hands on your jeans before taking Dean’s. You lifted his arms up, wrapping them around your shoulders and allowing him to pull you close. There you stood in the kitchen, swaying gently to a song that wasn’t there, yet you both could hear it so clearly. It was as if you could feel your life together growing up around you, sprouting and blooming. This was home, where Dean would always return. And you’d always be waiting.

[mykmi]

txt as your boyfriends (sfw)

pairing: txt x gn!reader genre: fluff, headcanons warnings: none ig? tell me if there's anything btw!! a/n: i hope it was worth the waiting :(( i have writer's block constantly so i try very hard to not make y'all wait for too long, sooo enjoy!!!

| choi yeonjun |

likes to show up together at every event or party

he just likes the idea that you both belong with each other, he's so proud he has someone like you so why not show you off a little bit? and if course he likes it vice versa ;))

loves to take care of you, especially when you're tired or sick

tries cooking for you but the kitchen is a total mess... he's not necessarily neat so cleaning is mostly on you.... he's just too clumsy for it

very affectionate and communicative about his feelings

he's very emotionally available and every time there's a problem he's ready to talk it out and solve it together, so you almost never argue

probably confessed first

no but like i really do believe he's someone who would make the first move, who would take you out on fancy restaurants dates and shopping dates, who would confess his feelings first and just would do most of the work lol

needs a lot of reassurance about his work and appearance

he's sometimes insecure and too harsh on himself, as he's a very hardworking perfectionist, so he needs support and some nice words from time to time just to feel better

| choi soobin |

professional yapper

yaps to you all the fucking time. when members are tired of his yapping, they just send him off to you. “take it, it's yours” they say, pushing him into the room to you and closing the door. and what else can you do besides just listen to all of that?

dates by him are usually calm

every time he plans a date, it's usually something that wouldn't take a lot of energy, so you'd spend more time talking

very genuine with you

he just lets his guard down whenever he's around you, and it means he's relaxed the most with you. he's childish, giggly, and honest

lets you take the lead

y'all i believe he'd rarely make the first move, and it keeps on going. he can take the lead, but he'd rather not, especially in something like going out or talking to the waiters

nerdy af

spends 90% of his free time playing video games, showing off his skills to you and teaching you how to play (it's a bonus if you're a gamer like him); he likes a gf who is interested in learning ab his hobbies ^^

| choi beomgyu |

encourages you to step out of your comfort zone

he is the kind of person who will help you and try something new with you, even if it's stressful or scary for both of y'all. he will encourage the hell out of you so there's nothing left to do than to try

words are his weapon

no matter if it's about the volume of his words or the value, but both ways, they're very significant ;)

very attentive

buys you the best gifts, prepares the best dates, and remembers everything about you; he thinks it's important to show how much you matter to him

needs some private time

he's an introvert and no matter how loud he is, he's sometimes tired of being in a company. gyu needs to be alone pretty often, but he will make this up to you when he recharges

the best listener

he loves listening to you and doesn't really care what specifically you're talking ab.. sometimes he spaces out, but most of the time he listens :)))

| kang taehyun |

acts of service is his love language

he doesn't really say 'i love you', but he shows his love through small and not-so-small actions. he plans dates for anniversaries, gifts you flowers every now and then, and is a gentleman ^^

shares his knowledge with you

it's not a secret that he's very smart, and he loves sharing his knowledge with you; he only does this, when you ask ab something tho

impresses you all the time

no matter if it's his magic tricks, his physical appeareance or his knowledge and if he does this on purpose or not, but he does constantly impress you

plans his future with you

he shows how serious relationships are to him and includes you in his future, your future house, your future pet, and possible future family :)))

is never boring

he loves adventures and excitement, and he bring those into your relationship too. you'll go on spontaneous trips, some exotic places or concerts just to have fun

| huening kai |

sharing is caring

shares his things with you, whether it be hoodies, plushies, or food, he shares and sometimes doesn't even notice this

quiet and embarrassed 90% of the time

he doesn't like talking ab himself, so he listens to you. he's not so self-confident, so he gets embarrassed a lot. he'd be thankful for lots of reassurance, or else he might doubt himself :((

loves physical affection

it's easy for him to show how much he loves someone by touching them. he loves hugging, holding hands, kissing you, caressing your tummy, and anything related to physical affection

babies you a lot

loves treating you with special care and treatment, doing everything for you (including chores), and taking care of you all the time

the most supportive

is interested in everything you do, attends any events that are important to you and always praises you for your good work ^^

✉ thank you for reading ✉

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (2)

Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,659

Part: 2 of ??

Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Previous

Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.

"Do you need this?" 

She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.

Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 

"Why? You like grapes." 

"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."

Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 

He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.

"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 

"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 

"You see how that was childish?" 

"Whatever." 

Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.

A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 

"Get that one." 

His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 

"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 

She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 

Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 

After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 

Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 

Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 

"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 

"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 

"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 

Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 

Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.

Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.

"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 

"Same time next week." 

He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 

Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 

"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 

"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 

"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."

His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 

It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 

He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 

Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 

"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 

Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 

"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 

"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 

"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 

"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."

"Amen."

An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.

Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.

"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 

Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."

"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 

Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 

"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 

Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 

Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 

Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 

"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 

Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.

Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 

"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."

"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 

"That'd be grand." 

"I bet it would."

Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 

Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 

"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 

"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 

"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 

"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 

--------

The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 

An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 

He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.

The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 

Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 

"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 

No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 

"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 

The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 

The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 

Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 

Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 

Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 

"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 

Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.

It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 

"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 

Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 

"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."

"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.

"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 

"Contract?" 

"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."

Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 

"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 

"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 

"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 

She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 

Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.

"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 

Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 

She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 

"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 

"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 

"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."

"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 

Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.

"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 

"They talk?" 

"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 

Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 

"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 

"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 

June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 

Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 

Focus on today.

The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 

They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 

Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 

"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 

"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 

He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 

The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 

"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 

"Of what?" 

"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"

He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."

You know I'm ready

To love you

Forever 

Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 

"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."

Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 

As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 

When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 

But, for tonight at least, this was enough.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Delicate part.3

Gwayne Hightower x reader

Description: Gwayne chips away at Y/N's wariness towards him through his gentlessness and considerate actions. They grow closer in friendship until she falls ill, prompting Gwayne to realise Y/N's company has become essential to him.

Writer's note: dedicating this to the mother of Gwaynism and an actual icon @just-some-random-blogger and the lovely @liafiction, you gave me so many ideas with your shopping list of Gwayne traits and I have to credit you 💚. Also crediting Victoria for writing the descriptions for this fic, as she's much better at it than I am.

Gwayne is the sweetest boy in this and would definitely make a great girl dad.

Warnings: female reader, asexual reader, touch averse reader, very fluffy, mention of periods.

Having passed a week in the company of her dear friend, Alicent's brother Gwayne, Y/N was surprised at how quickly they had formed a friendship. Her first interaction with him, when he had frightened her, had made her wary of him, assuming that he would be just as coarse and forward as other knights she had been forced to interact with at Court. When he had caught her in his arms and kissed her hand, she had unceremoniously pushed him away from her, finding such physical contact to be discomfiting. She had never been able to fully explain her aversion, even to herself. She knew only that such physical displays of gallantry from other knights made her uncomfortable, knowing as she did that they were usually considered to be a prelude to courtship and marriage, something she knew she did not want. Her anxiety on this front had only increased at her father’s frequent reminders that her sole purpose as a Lady of the Court was to bind their House in marriage to another powerful House. The thought of marriage and rearing children with any of the obnoxious lords she had encountered at Court left her feeling nauseated and panicked, a feeling she knew Alicent shared with her. Before Gwayne Hightower’s arrival at King’s Landing, she and Alicent had wiled away many an hour fantasising about living in Oldtown together, far from the suffocating expectations of their fathers and the Court.

She was more than a little surprised when she quickly found herself becoming nearly as comfortable in Gwayne's presence as in Alicent's, since he had proven himself to be a true gentleman and friend. Since the day of their meeting, he had never solicited physical contact with her, other than to subtly tilt his elbow in her direction or position his palm slightly towards her after first assisting his sister from a seated position. Whilst these gestures were so subtle as to be missed by others, Y/N's heart was warmed by these chivalrous attempts to offer her his assistance without embarrassing her by forcing her to verbally refuse them. She was, additionally, pleasantly surprised at his own silence on the matter, never appearing to take offence at her quiet rejections of his assistance, only continuing to smile at her and laugh with her with a gentleness and kindness that stirred a warm feeling in her heart towards him.

It was this consistent gentleness in his manner towards both his sister and herself that led her to take his free arm on the seventh day of their acquaintance, when he came to collect her with his sister holding his other arm. It was worth pushing herself out of her comfort zone just to see the pleasantly surprised faces of both of her friends. The soft expression Gwayne directed towards her, in particular, had her feeling simultaneously elated and nervous, in a way she hadn't felt before. As the three walked happily, side-by-side, through the grounds, Y/N felt a degree of contentment she had never felt in the presence of two people.

From that day on, she had continued to take Gwayne's arm and his hand when he offered it to her, surprising herself, even, at how natural it felt to do so. She had begun to really look forward to the routine the three had established. They would walk and read together, talking of their childhoods, their hopes and dreams, creating their own world away from that of the Court. Gwayne took an interest in every mundane detail of her life, personality and hopes for the future, gazing at her with the same degree of attentiveness, no matter the topic of their conversation. He wanted to know about all of her memories from her childhood, her favourite flower, sweet, and even colour. The way his eyes shone and his mouth upturned in a self-complacent smile when she answered him that her favourite colour was green had her feeling momentarily embarrassed when she realised that he may have thought her answer calculated, given that green was the colour of his House. He quickly allayed this fear, seeming to sense from her biting her lip and looking away from him that this might be the case, as he touched her hand comfortingly, drawing her gaze back to his.

“Is that so? I am most glad to hear it. We shall be quite the dashing trio then, at the opening banquet, all dressed in green.”

As he retracted his hand from hers, Y/N realised that she missed the comfort that she derived from the feel of his hand placed lightly on hers, a feeling she had only ever experienced with her late mother and with Alicent before. She tentatively began to envision a future which included her new friend, where the three could live in the comfort of one another’s company, without the imposition of Court life.

In the afternoon, the ladies would come to show their support for Gwayne at the training yard and Y/N could not deny that she was impressed by his prowess with the sword. More than that, she was struck by his willingness to embarrass himself just to amuse his sister and herself. This, combined with his enduring politeness towards the other knights’ condescension at his youth and inexperience as a knight, displayed a strength of character she had yet to encounter in the other knights of her acquaintance. His confident manner and quick retorts to their insults frequently had both ladies struggling to repress their laughter at the confusion of the knights on the receiving end of his quips. Despite his jesting nature, he was quick to sense if Y/N herself was embarrassed and to either turn the conversation to a different end or redirect Alicent and her jests towards himself.

On one such occasion, Y/N and Alicent were standing with Gwayne in the training yard, after he had finished his training for that day, laughing at the shock of the other knights at his defeats of them that day. Continuing their jest that the ladies would have to carry Gwayne’s sword for him, Y/N playfully attempted to take his sword from his grasp. Not accounting for the weight of it, she immediately dropped it, only just missing her own foot in the process.

Gwayne’s eyes had widened in alarm when Y/N snatched his sword from him and nearly hurt herself in the process, leading him to quickly grasp her elbows gently in his hands, lowering his head to examine her face for any signs of distress or injury.

His voice coming out panicked, he frantically asked, “are you harmed, my Lady?”

Y/N felt her face begin to burn furiously with embarrassment at her behaviour, as she stepped back from Gwayne.

“I am well, I apologise.”

Hearing her stutter an apology in response to his urgent enquiry into her welfare, Gwayne was relieved that she was unharmed. However, seeing the blush blooming on her cheeks, as she directed her gaze anywhere but on him, Gwayne sought to reduce her embarrassment.

He chased her eyes with his, offering her what he hoped was a comforting smile. He wanted her to always feel comfortable around him and, whilst her jest had left him fearing for her safety, he appreciated that she had become so comfortable in his presence to attempt it.

He quickly sought to make a joke of the incident which would make Y/N laugh at him, instead of berating herself.

“If Lady Y/N’s quick reflexes are any indication of her skill in combat I will have to watch myself, I fear, lest she ambush me when I am unaware.”

He rejoiced to hear her and Alicent laugh at this, as she turned to meet his gaze. Encouraged by her response, he continued.

“I do not know how I shall manage if both of you lovely ladies determine to strike me down together, I shall be thoroughly overcome.”

As his two favourite ladies broke out into laughter, and Y/N’s eyes glittered as she looked affectionately up at him, he found himself hoping, not for the first time, that a time would come when they could always be together like this.

Y/N woke up to the familiar pain of her monthly cycle, clutching her stomach as she turned over in bed. Every month she struggled to manage the pain and nausea she experienced during her cycle, and was left with no choice but to remain in her room whilst she waited for both to pass. On such occasions she even absconded from Alicent’s company. Alicent was accustomed to these period of absence, and would allow Y/N her space whilst she recovered, sometimes sending her treats or books which she thought might please or interest her.

Y/N remained in bed well past her usual time for rising and had missed breakfast with her father, something she was not sorry for, given that they usually passed their meal in strained silence. Holding her bedsheet over her head, she did not initially hear her maid enter the room until a gentle hand pulled the sheet down.

“My Lady, I am sorry to disturb your rest but Ser Gwayne Hightower and the Lady Alicent Hightower have enquired if you will be joining them on their walk today. Would you like me to help you dress?”

A feeling of embarrassment rose in Y/N as she imagined her two friends waiting for her at the door of her apartments and she frantically rose to begin dressing, before a sharp pain in her abdomen had her falling back onto the bed. A moment passed before she was able to address her maid.

“Thank you, Lilah. Please could you inform Ser Gwayne and Lady Alicent that I am indisposed and will not be able to join them today. Please offer them my sincerest apologies and wish them a pleasant day. That will be all.”

Regretting that she would be unable to rejoin her friends, and wishing that she did not have to make such a feeble excuse, Y/N quickly sought the comfort of the covers, once again, as her maid left the room. Whilst she knew that Alicent would be aware of her condition from her excuse, she was unable to suppress the feeling of embarrassment at the potential of Gwayne knowing of it and thinking her weak. With this unpleasant thought turning in her mind, she struggled to find the repose which she so sorely needed.

Gwayne was unable to conceal the eagerness with which he looked up as a door within Lady Y/N’s apartment’s closed and he heard the tread of footsteps, looking up in anticipation of the lovely lady whose company had grown to be so essential to him so quickly over the course of the last two weeks. He was disappointed and concerned, however, when, instead of his lady, her maid reappeared to inform them that the lady in question was indisposed and would not be joining them.

Gwayne’s expression fell immediately, stricken with concern.

“Is the lady very unwell? Is there anything we could get her that might be of any help?”

Looking uneasily between Gwayne and Alicent, the maid seemed to struggle to give him an adequate response.

Seeing her flounder, and realising that she was probably trying to conceal the real reason for Y/N’s indisposition, Alicent thanked the maid, before pulling on Gwayne’s arm to lead him from Y/N’s apartments.

Turning to his sister in confusion, he was met with Alicent’s stern gaze.

“Don’t make a nuisance of yourself Gwayne, can’t you see that the poor maid was struggling to provide you with an answer.”

Reproaching himself with having made the maid uncomfortable in his concern for Y/N, he slightly lowered his head.

“I am sorry for it, but does it not concern you that Lady Y/N should be unwell. I only wondered if I might be able to procure something that might alleviate her symptoms.”

Patting her brother’s shoulder affectionately at his chivalrous nature, Alicent met his gaze.

“She will be quite well in a few days, you know that mother and I have often found ourselves similarly indisposed at certain times throughout the month.”

A look of realisation and concern passed over Gwayne’s face at this. Growing up in the company of his sister, Gwayne was no stranger to the symptoms she experienced during her monthly cycles, and would often read to her, her head on his lap, to help take her mind off them. He would bring her and their mother, when she still lived, their favourite sweets, almond cakes, and make up poultices of heated stones to ease their pain for them, after first checking that the stones were not too hot. Gwayne disliked seeing either his mother or his sister in pain and sought to alleviate their suffering in any way he could, or to at least provide a comforting shoulder to lean upon. He found his own father’s apathy towards the suffering of his wife and daughter to be a source of disgust and disbelief, and could not have anticipated Y/N being embarrassed at the thought of him being aware of the reason for her condition. His mind turned quickly now to whether he could send Y/N anything to ease her symptoms, finding that the thought of her experiencing any pain caused a pain of his own to tighten within his chest.

Turning to gaze down at his sister, Gwayne’s mouth upturned in a conspiratorial smile.

“I think that we should direct our walk towards the kitchens today, Sister. I wonder if they have any of those almond cakes you adore so much.”

Realising what he was planning, their thoughts always so in-tune with each other, Alicent tapped his cheek affectionately before entangling her arm with his, as they made their way through the lower levels of the Keep, towards the kitchens.

A knock at her chamber door at around noon, had Y/N raising her head slightly to call for the person on the other side to enter. Seeing her maid enter the room with a tray, a puzzled expression made its way onto Y/N’s face, given that her father would never normally send anything up to her on such occasions. As her maid brought the tray further towards her bed, she spotted a small bouquet of her favourite flowers, gardenias, tied together with a green ribbon, as well as a hot poultice, wrapped in a cloth, and a plate of almond cakes.

Y/N instantly recognised the ribbon to be Alicent’s, and realised that the tray must have been sent by her, especially since almond cakes happened to be both of their favourite desserts. A small, leatherbound volume on a period of history she had expressed an interest in learning more about to Gwayne, was also carefully placed underneath the bouquet on the tray, beside a note.

Thanking her maid for the tray, as she left the room, Y/N reached for the parchment first.

My Dear Lady,

Please accept these humble offerings of our concern for your welfare and swift recovery, in the hopes that they will be of interest or comfort to you. I happened across a bushel of these lovely flowers and thought of you, knowing them to be your favourite, and I thought that this volume might be what you were looking for in the library.

I do hope you enjoy the cakes. I have it on good authority, that authority being my dear sister’s, that they are a remedy to solve all ills. So insistent was she upon their effectiveness, that I am afraid I have made a poor impression of myself upon the cook, as she half chased me from her kitchens after she found me scavenging for them. I shall leave you with the image of your knight being felled by a saucepan, as I know only too well how much that would amuse you.

Please do rest well and let us know when you are better, or else I am sure to wither away in sorrow from your absence, and then I really shall not be able to lift my sword at the coming tourney. I will only have you to blame if such is the case.

With the fate of your knight at stake, please do take care.

Yours most faithfully,

Gwayne

Y/N found her heart swelling and her eyes watering the more she read of Gwayne’s letter, so grateful was she for the concern that both of her friends had for her, when she was so unaccustomed to receiving it in her own home. She could not supress a laugh at the thought of Gwayne, who was really very skilled with a sword, being felled by a saucepan, wielded by a belligerent cook.

@liafiction

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[dduane]

The first part of that last message got me curious -- given how long-running of a series YW is, how do you keep track of All That when writing a new entry? Copious amounts of notes? Re-reading the entire series backlog? Keeping a fully-functioning simulation of the entire YW universe running in your head with perfect accuracy? (only mostly joking with that last one)

And somewhat-relatedly, did you have any plan or idea when you started for how long YW would run? Or was it more of a "I'll keep writing about this universe until it stops churning out ideas," type of thing and that point just (very thankfully!) hasn't happened yet? I know for per-book purposes you're a proponent of outlining (I swear I'll try writing to one one day Q_Q) but do you also apply that to a series as a whole?

Let me take this backwards, as it may make more sense that way.

Particularly when doing series work, outlining is more vital than usual for me. (Which is saying a lot.) Some of the most basic reasons for this are laid out over here.

The simplest one, though, for series outlining, is logistical. Without having achieved a sense well in advance of what events (or effects of events) are going to be most formative or important (or both) for the characters in a series, you won't have allowed yourself time to think about them enough. And to fail to spend enough time on this is to cheat both yourself and the books in the series. (And your readership.)

If you're smart, you learn very early on that attempting to save time by shortchanging or omitting the planning stages is potentially profoundly destructive. You need to have a plan... and you need not to let anyone make you ashamed of needing one. Putting off your detailed character-interaction and event planning in the name of some magically occurring fit of inspiration, or theoretical bid toward creative spontaneity, will serve neither you nor your creation. You can throw "Hail Mary" passes all you like... but you'd better be damn sure there'll be someone in the end zone to receive. ...If not Herself.

...And just in case you're worried, your initial plans can be really loose! They don't have to jump out of your head full-formed like some local war goddess after somebody hits her dad in the head with an axe. The plan for the Middle Kingdoms books—after The Door Into Fire dumped me gasping by the side of the road and left me a few minutes to breathe—was nothing more than "Now that his boyfriend's finally upped the ante beyond all expectations, Freelorn finally gets off his feckless Would-Be Robin Hood shit and gets to work becoming king." I then spent the next decade thinking purposefully about how that was going to happen, and writing the second book in the series—while sufficiently working out the fine details of the climax (and beyond) to then be able to get busy executing the third book. Even though there was a change of publishers between the beginning of that series and the end of it, the basic dead-simple MK plan from a very early stage quickly became detailed and robust enough (because the series was short enough) to withstand the change. Not least because I'd been thinking about it in a general way since the early 1970s... and continue to do so, pretty much daily. The Door Into Starlight is still hanging fire...

YW has been a different story—quite literally—because the only plan extant at the start of things was, "Everybody slowly gets older (and slowly closer)." I always knew there were going to be more than the original three: there was way too much interesting ground to cover to just stop with those. (I've never yet succeeded in finding out who started the rumor that there were only going to be three books. Over time it's become one of those things you just shrug at and move on.)

(Adding a break here, because this does go on a bit. Caution: contains publishing skullduggery, plans ganging aft agley, approximate word counts, software recommendations, and value judgments.)

("Now wait just one minute. 'Feckless would-be Robin Hood shit'? Can she just say that??")

The circumstances surrounding the writing of Deep Wizardry and High Wizardry, though, made it plain to me that I was not going to be at the then-publisher (Dell) all that much longer. By the time HW came out, they were already starting to pull away from midlist books and authors in order to spend that part of the budget on best-sellers... so it became plain to me that attempting to construct a long arc with/at that publisher would have been folly. Because who could be sure what was going to happen next, and blow everything I'd built to smithereens?

Sure enough, when I finished A Wizard Abroad, Dell declined to pick it up (even though the books had been selling steadily and increasingly strongly in paperback). This annoying validation of my concerns—and my shiny new agent's—made it plain to me that further books in the series were going to need to be thematically driven, rather than mostly character-event-driven, and almost entirely capable of being taken as standalones. Any long arc was going to have to be one that could be suspended, or reworked, with little warning. Because what happens to you once, in publishing, doesn't at all mean you're immune to it after that.

It wasn't until the YW books were picked up by Harcourt in the mid-90s, with a strong editorial team behind them, that I felt confident enough to start building longer-arc material into the books, beginning with the arc that kicks off in The Wizard's Dilemma and more or less completes in Wizard's Holiday and Wizards At War. There is a secondary (and I assume, generally less obvious) arc that picks up material still unhandled in the "War Arc," and deals with it in A Wizard of Mars and Games Wizards Play. But plans for those stories' management were already nailed down in electrons as soon as 2001, because I had made some early choices about where I was going with the characters and their situations; and as new books came out, my editors agreed with me that the choices had been sound, and should remain.

I'll say this only because I've said it before: there is one piece of business planted in So You Want To Be A Wizard that has never been explicitly dealt with/followed up on in any of the books, and is at the core of YW #11. For the moment, it's safest merely to say that I do not willingly leave loose ends hanging. Beyond that, I'll leave you all to your own deductions.

...Now. How do I keep track of all this stuff? (The urge to mutter "With great difficulty" and run off into the wings is strong. But never mind.) :)

The question's fair, as there's a million-plus words' worth of it in the series at the moment. ...Mostly my guide remains the books themselves, in ebook form (in their NME versions. If I need to, I refer back to the traditionally published versions as necessary). I normally have a general memory of where a given event happens or where a given issue comes up for handling. I then pull that copy of the ebook(s) in question, and do a search on various useful target phrases until I find what I'm after, and where it leads.

For new work, or stuff not yet committed to what passes for canon, I do have lots of notes. Some of them are actually out in public, at the currently-being-revised Errantry Concordance (though they're not in any form that anyone but me will recognize). Others are tucked away in the notes sections of pertinent Scrivener files—this being one of the most valuable things about Scrivener, as far as I'm concerned: the ability to store project notes in the project itself as opposed to "all over the damn place." Others yet are in my iPad, as either typing or dictation, and get transferred to other files/formats as necessary.

But the very first thing that happens, when a new work comes into train, is an outline. Sometimes a hilariously simple one, sometimes one with more detail in the middle than at the beginning or the end. Doesn't matter what shape it starts in. All notes, scraps, prose chunks, random thoughts, and midnight cogitations, get slotted into place in this until it's ready to be organized and sent off to an editor. And this outline—no matter how fragmentary or how polished—remains ready to hand at all times until I've finished with correcting the book's ARC and am looking at the release date.

And then I zip it up and put it away where I can find it later if I need to... because some other plan, still in the building stages, may need something in that one that never happened, but now has its chance. Because in YW, as everywhere else in my work, it's so often about the things that have always almost happened... until they do.

...Anyway: HTH!

[kawaxyart]

My own Ninjago Designs~

It's done.

Holy Hell my Ninjago designs are done... Kinda.

Take this as part 1 since I'm planning on doing DR charas and probably Vania, Bento, Echo, Akita and Kataru at some point in the future. Maybe I'll throw some EMs in there too.

No Uniforms or Accesories for these (yet) 'cause they would end up covering most of the design and like, I didn't do all this work for that, at one point in the future I will definitely design their uniforms but not today :D

While these are mainly for one of my AUs I love them so much I'll probably end up using them in general redraws too so-

Breakdowns under the cut!

Warning of a long post.

RGB Trio

Kai & Nya

Dragon and Phoenix genes from Ray's side.

Oni (Keepers) and Merlopian Genes from Maya's side.

Nya gets more Merlopian traits while Kai gets more Phoenix traits.

The gills are mostly decorative as they can't actually breath through them, both got two sets, rib-cage and neck. They're a pretty vulnerable point and despite being vestigial they can hurt like hell if damaged.

While their horns match their dragon scales they're actually from their Oni side of the family.

Phoenix Feathers, decorative as they don't really have any purpose, Nya gets fins on the tail.

Dragon scales. They're actually pretty useful when it comes to battle as they serve as extra protection.

They got a good fire resistance thanks to their genes, Kai's got a bit higher resistance because of his element (and yet he's the one with burns)

Slit pupils, Nya's purple comes from her Oni side, Kai's aquamarine comes from his Dragon side.

Both have small-ish fangs. Kai's are dark grey, Nya's are coral/pink-ish, yes, they skeletons/bones are those same colours.

Lloyd

Dragon and Oni sides from Garmadon

Human side from Misako

Natural split hair and horns.

The horns and hair volume come from his Oni side, much to his annoyance. He has a lot of hair, and is very thick too.

Tusks also from his Oni side.

Visible claws on both feet and hands.

Dragon ears.

Paw-pads on hands and feet.

Slit golden eyes, these eyes change colour depending on his active power. Oni powers = Red eyes, Elemental powers = Green Eyes.

Protective dragon scales just like Kai and Nya, fortunately for him his actually cover more vulnerable zones.

Can summon wings but they're not usually visible.

Hailstorm Trio

Jay

Wolf ears, dude kinda got lycanthropy. No human ears.

Snake scales and tail. The scales are pretty sturdy but nowhere near as protective as dragon ones. They also doesn't cover a lot.

Tail has a rattle, yes, it's functional.

Got a lot of hair whenever there aren't scales thanks to the wolf traits

Long snake fangs, they are thin, they hurt, kinda weak biting force though.

Paw-pads on hands and feet, definitely pretty useful when going on stealth missions.

Prominent Litchenberg scars all over his body.

He can and will: Bark, Hiss, Howl, Bite & Wag that tail.

Freckles, lot of prominent freckles.

Sectorial heterochromia on both eyes, it was Blue/Brown before he activated his powers, after that the brown part became yellow.

Slit eyebrow.

The scales are more decorative than anything else.

His hair is quite reflective, from afar it looks as if you're looking at copper wires though in reality his hair is pretty soft.

He's got some white hairs because let's just say electricity running constantly through your body takes a toll on you.

Cole

Oni side from Lily.

Human side from Lou.

Ghost side because of a generational curse from Lily. [Reaper curse]

No visible fangs or tusks, likewise no claws.

Oni horns and tail.

He got faint Oni marks, they glow when he uses his elemental power.

Bi-colored hair with fading thanks to the ghost [Reaper] curse.

Heterochromia... kinda, left eye is where his curse is more visible, black sclera and green eye/pupil, he can see just fine it just looks weird. Might sometimes use contact lenses to hide it.

Ghost scar on his left.

Pointy ears from his Oni side.

Because of the Reaper curse whenever he steps into a room it grows cold, is a very particular cold feeling that can't be mistaken.

Aversion to water. It kinda hurts.

Has an uneasy aura hanging around him, it makes the hair at the end of one's neck stand.

Residual ghost marks that just look like green-ish patches on the skin.

Can literally suck the life of the living creatures around them [Reaper Curse]. When he uses these powers the Oni marks shine on a ghostly green hue.

Zane

Nindroid

Mood ring on right side of the head.

Can completely use a gleam to look human, he usually stays in a somewhat middle ground. It looks as if he's using an Armour.

Eyes are definitive give away he's not human.

One of the most human-looking in the group.

Eyes glow in the dark.

Bit Players (Just came up w this name)

Harumi

Literally Crystallized [Cursed]

Also part Oni thanks to the masks.

Oni horns and tail are also made of Corrupted Crystal.

While her eyes seem human her pupils are in star-shape.

Gems and Crystals grow on her skin, it's a bit painful.

She can go long periods without human necessities, this is the crystal affecting her body and metabolism.

When the Crystals break it hurts, she can either wait until they grow back or can glue them back until they "scar".

Surprisingly they're quite sturdy but they can definitely break like, in a battle.

The crystals made her quite resistant to elemental powers.

All things considered she's glad the crystals are red/purple and not green.

Morro

Ghoul [Cursed]

Heavy light hurt his eyes. Sunny days too, it gives him headaches.

Likewise he despises water and it can hurt him. Especially hot water, he can withstand cold water better.

Hands and Feet are claw-like, they're pretty sharp.

Marks around the eyes are scars, they light up whenever he uses his powers, he's getting more slowly, they'll appear all over his body at some point.

Shark-like teeth.

Darkened parts on skin are colder, in general he's cold to the touch.

He craves raw meat and blood, while he can survive without the gets moody, if goes too long without he starts to feel sick. [Withdrawal symptoms]

White pupils, eyes shine in the darkness.

Feet are bird-like, strong grips and incredibly useful when he needs to hold or hang on something. Yeah, he kinda uses them like extra-hands.

Skylor

Snake traits, Anacondrai.

Has Anacondrai cult tattoo on the back, it's slashed in the middle.

Unlike Jay's where his scales are more disruptive hers "fade", there's skin, soft scales and hard scales.

She got snake fangs too thought not as pronounced as Jay's.

Tail is long, she usually has to drag it when walking, although is heavy is also pretty strong.

Can "dislocate" her Jaw at will to open it more.

Big appetite but she doesn't need to eat as constantly as a human, maybe every third day since her digestion is pretty slow.

The scales aren't protective, they're more like decorative as most of her scales are soft.

Great biting force.

Pixal

Nindroid

Mood ring on right side of the head just like Zane.

Can't conceal herself like Zane as she doesn't have the functions to do so. She doesn't mind it though.

Hair can plug, it has different entries hence why the different colours, it's more versatile.

Eyes are a definitive give away and they glow in the dark.

[onepiecepetalfanfics089]

Omg this was so good like there something about breeding kink luffy that hits different 😩.

Do you take any requests cuz how about possessive gear 5 luffy 🤭

Imagination~..

Smoke seemed to fill the air as you sighed, your hair was tied up and you were wearing a kimono to celebrate the festival and of course, Luffy’s victory against kaido.

You and the crew were so so happy that he’d won! Who could’ve guessed that gear five could be that…cartoonish right..?

Well you were just making sure when everything was set with your outfit and hair when suddenly a faint mist filled the room..

Familiar mist…

A Pure, white and almost god like presence was definitely there. Watching you..

The same familier wide grin and blood red eyes popped out from what you could see in the mirror as hands covered your eyes. You could almost hear the giggling already from behind you as he footed while looking down at you. You could feel it..

A sigh left your lips and dropped what you were doing.

“Guess who!!”

You raised an eyebrow, why hadn’t he turned back into Luffy yet..? It was almost like he was doing this on purpose but you complied with his hand of course because he was your captain still technically and even more so..

A God.

“Hmm..I dunno..is it the guy who saved a whole country?”

You replied, your voice being playful as I you looked up. He took his hands off of your eyes and somehow grinned even more.

“Bingo!!!” He Saïd with a loud laugh which caused you to join in on the laughter.

Admittedly, he was quite the funny and cute one. Just an hour after beating kaido he spent all his time with you, following you around and floating wherever you went. Sometimes just blabbering about random nonsense while laughing at his own goofy acts and jokes.

There was times that he made you laugh so much that you had to held your stomach and drop to the ground, forcibly and just by his own doings.

But, there were also times where he acted rather strange when someone would get too close and try to ‘steal’ you away from him..

He seemed absolutely adamant about keeping you close..

No one should and dared to keep your attention for too long. They knew that you were very precious to joyboy. He didn’t even have to say anything to anyone about your attention. They just knew.

He saved a whole country for peeks sake and not to mention fought and won against one of the emperors of the sea.

The crew even suspected why he was so clingy, he would constantly butt in at any chance they tried to at least do one activity with you!

Trying to train or take a nap with zoro?

‘Hey Y/N! You wanna hear some jokes?!’

Just having a normal conversation with usopp and listening to his tales?

‘Hey hey!! Y/N!! Look at me! Look what I can do!’

Proceeds to something so goofy with his body your at a loss with words..

Anything just to get your attention because we’ll..he wanted it! You intrigued him greatly with almost everything you did!

Could you really blame him?..

.

.

.

.

At the festival, the music was lovely and the lights were glittering with beautiful colors and you smiled seeing the happy people who were celebrating the victory of no one other than your captain, Luffy.

Who was still in his god like form and stuffing his face with meat, rice and any food he could get his hands on. While keeping a firm hand in your hip to keep you close.

Sipping your Sake while Nika was blabbing away with goofy nonsense, you were half listening and half zoning out when suddenly you felt light tap on your shoulder.

It was Law. His eyes bore into you as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at you. This apparently caught Nikas attention as well. You of course didn’t notice though.

“Hey so uh..I’ve been watching you this whole time and you’ve been in the same place the entire night..”

He glanced over at the ‘sun god’ beside you .

“Would you want to dance?..”

The who party seemed to get quieter.

Did he not know?..

Blinking a few times to adjust from the shock and surprise and put on a smile and gratefully nodded. For weeks you haven’t hung out with anyone other then the white haired boy with ruby red eyes..it was good to finally have some peace.

You turned to Nika who was gripping your hip with a frown, one that was very rare for a guy who’d smile nonstop no matter what.

“Hey Nika, im gonna go dance alright? I’ll be back soon!”

Before the godlike figure could even respond, you were off to dance with Law.

Nerves eased through you as your movements matched the man currently in front of you.

A little spin here, a touch of the hip there..one of his hands found its way on your waist and the other on your shoulder while the both of your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your heart was pounding through your chest and you could feel eyes on you..deciding to ignore it you just got lost in the gray ones that were staring at you while the two of you danced.

Meanwhile Nikas face was almost in a childlike pout, watching you dance with the surgeon. His body in a laying position as he floated up on a white cloud. So many emotions were boiling up inside of him at that moment..he just had to figure out which one was the most controlling of him..

The final straw was when he saw him gently squeeze your waist and whisper something in your ear that made you giggle.

His fists clenched and his eyes narrowed.

He wasn’t that amused anymore..

After the party a smile stained your lips as you sat down by a lake, the moonlight casting upon the water perfectly.

Just then you felt it..that presence again.

Two red eyes peeled out of the shadows and a familiar grin was spread across the face you knew so well.

“Oh hey Nika..the party was fun wasn’t it?..I-”

Without another word you felt the warm feeling of his lips on yours. Your eyes widened in complete shock and your cheeks flushed a red color that could compete with the boys eyes.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he pushed you with little force into his lap. The familiar feeling of mist surrounding you resurfaced.

You didn’t know what to say..What on earth was happening with him?!

Eventually his stretched arms loosened slightly and he slowly traced his hands down to your waist, rubbing his fingers on the sides, His other hand went down to your thigh.

He finally stopped kissing you but his grin of course remained. Your mouth was agape and you were still trying to get over the fact that your captain had just kissed you!

His touch lingered while his hands just seemed to roam around your body almost lovingly.

“Hey Y/N..?”

Snapping out of the still remaining shock you slowly lowered your head.

“U-Uh..yeah?..”

“..we’re close right..?”

“Yeah..you could say that..”

“So don’t do that again.”

You were now again at a loss of words.

“Do what again..?”

He didn’t respond or didn’t really care to listen anymore as he hugged you tight, the wide grin that almost everyone knows him for returning while he chuckled.

“..hehe!!”

Raising an eyebrow you couldn’t help but snort too..he could never resist to make you laugh too..

Protective yet possessive arms wrapped then self around you tightly while a head nuzzled cozily into your neck.

Chucking could still be heard that almost sounded mischievous, yet still full of glee.

For a second you thought he was almost making a plan to always keep you in sight..no matter what the cost..

But of course that was crazy talk..

Yeah, it was alll just your imagination..

Eeeeeeeh i love this so much!! Omg- I hope this was good because I adored writing this and just Nika’s character in general!! Ty so much to @sirenbeloved for the request! I loved writing it! Thank you!! 💕💕

I MIGHT post another story but it’ll be like real late- but you best believe that I’m probably gonna post again tomorrow!!

Thank you for reading and again, have a good night/day or evening my lovely petals and thank you so much for just being with me and reading my work ❤️🌸❤️🌸💓🫶🏼

[honeyspawn]

Real talk, I think Frank Pricely is a genuinely really interesting character.

So when we meet him in Black Friday, he is basically a cartoon capitalist supervillain. He's obsessing over money, he is condescending to Lex, and we get the impression that he's Mr. Krabs level of money-grubbing shitty boss. He gets a whole song where he revels in how much money he's going to make, and shows ambivalence to how dangerous black friday shopping can be. Then Feast or Famine happens, and something... changes. There's a visible shift on stage when he and the audience realize that he is no longer in control that's genuinely really eerie. Put a pin in that, cuz I'm gonna come back to it.

When when we're introduced to him in "Daddy", we get a much more complete image of who he is as a character. It's not that he's not a greedy and condescending person, because he definitely is, but that's not the foundation of his character. When we see Toy Zone outside of Black Friday, we see that it's a struggling small business, and a genuine passion project for Frank. It's not that Toy Zone is a means for financial success, but financial success is a means to keep Toy Zone operational.

Then there's his relationship with Lex. He's definitely snarky and condescending, but he also actually cares about her, and sees himself as a parental figure to her. He gives her advice that he feels is in her best interest, and shows her a lot of the "tough love" that he thinks Sheila should be showing Sherman. Lex is even one of the people he says sorry too when he's about to die, because he worries that he failed her. While I do think Lex has some level of respect for him, I never really get the vibe that she sees him this way; she seems to think of him as more of a hard ass, and she would absolutely leave Toy Zone the minute a better opportunity comes up. Her job at Toy Zone for her is more about her need to take care of her family. And this is significant, because Frank is a very lonely person. After his dog Buddy dies, he has no family left. He reminisces on his parents, who didn't support his passions. He thinks of himself as a father figure to Lex, because he has nobody else left in his life. I'm not necessarily saying that he's a good parental figure to Lex, he can be pretty selfish, and even denied her for a raise once he could afford it, knowing she damn well needs the money. It's clear though, that he's trying to look out for her more than her actual mother (low bar as it may be), and on some level, he does think he's helping her. Because she's all he has. Her and Toy Zone, and he's about to lose that too.

This is why Sheila is so appealing to him. She represents not only financial stability, but a chance to not be alone. He doesn't love her, and I think he knows it, but he could learn to love her. He could have love and money, and if that doesn't work out, at least he'd have money. That's what he thinks anyway. But again, he's not the one with the power.

When we first see him in Black Friday, we initially think Frank represents the corporations, but he doesn't. He's a small business owner, and can only support his passion by participating in capitalism. He is a retailer, not a CEO. And that's what puts him in so much danger in Black Friday. Capitalism treats him as disposable. And that's how he dies. Frank was just as much under Wiggly's influence as anyone else. He lived a lonely life, and the business he's prioritized over forming any lasting bonds with other people is about to go down the toilet. Then this little green doll comes along that's supposed to fix everything. He doesn't want to keep the Wiggly dolls, but he still thinks they're going to fix the holes. And once he's served his purpose, Wiggly disposes of him. And that's what Sheila tries to do, too. The only reason he survives in Daddy is that Sherman decides he still has value. It's honestly really haunting how these stories mirror each other.

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

I Am Machine

Summary: In which Karl Heisenberg has nipple piercings and a chest full of insecurities.

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x afab!Reader

Word Count: -2.5k

Content Warning: Porn With Feelings <3 18+!, Nipple Piercings, Thigh Riding, Angst, Body Worship, Karl Has A Dad-Bod, Internalized Body Shaming, Insecurities, Feelings….A Lot Of Them, Giving Karl All The Love He Deserves, Dirty Talk, Manhandling, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, A Sprinkle Of Rough Fucking

A/N: Another massive shout-out to @queer-crusader!Thank you so much for throwing all the ideas back and forth <3

Tagging: @blueberrypancakesworld

I am machine

I never sleep

Until I fix what's broken

I am machine

A part of me

Wishes I could just feel something

- I Am Machine By Three Days Grace

With your shoulder leaning onto the old door frame, you watched him, watched how his fingers slowly crawled up to his chest whilst he stared holes into thin air and his teeth ground down on the soft insides of his cheek instead of the usual cigar butt. Karl took no notice of you observing him with a faint smile ghosting around your lips and so calloused fingertips ventured forth to grab at the dainty steel marbles screwed on tightly to the accompanying bar that went straight through his right nipple. They toyed with the small piece of jewelry for a moment as he blinked lazily, entirely absentmindedly, and zoned out.

You had to actively stifle a laugh as you were able to watch the coin flip in his thoughts, Karl seemed to remember that his left nipple was adorned by just the same accessory and his hand grazed across his chest. If it wasn’t for his brows furrowing up into a frown, he would’ve looked dreamy and calm in the warm light of the surprisingly sturdy light bulb.

“Feeling yourself up a little, hm?” You joked, trying to approach whatever it was that caused his knit-together brows with lightheartedness.

“Huh?”, For the blink of an eye Karl looked truly dumbfounded and entirely unaware of his fidgeting that drew all of your attention right at it, “Oh. Subconscious habit.”

“I know.” You smiled kindly back at him.

“Then why are ya asking, stupid?” He nudged his head in your direction with a wide grin stretching across his face, gingerly accentuating the crinkles and crowfeet around his eyes.

Although it looked like a genuine expression, you had a strong inkling sitting in your stomach, that he was trying to hide something from you, perhaps not even intently but purely upon instinct.

“I was trying to be funny. You should try that too sometimes.” The tip of your tongue darted from between your lips, playfully teasing him.

“I am funny.” He retorted bluntly.

“I don’t know about that, Karl.” The banter briefly continued as you walked towards him, sitting there legs all sprawled out on the bed with his back against the decrepit and depressingly gray concrete walls.

“Don’t ya think that metal-melting heat and the constant linger of death is hilarious? Tough crowd.” The burly man huffed humorously yet he couldn’t quite shake the pitiful tinge in his voice.

He watched you saunter over to him, the pair of unnaturally bright hematite eyes following you intently.

“What’s going on up there?” You let yourself plop right into his lap, straddling his bulky thigh as the very tip of your index finger nudged at his temple.

“Huh?” He muttered again, trying to plaster a blasé expression on his face but it slipped at the edges, the corners of his mouth contorting downwards for a split second before he could help it.

“The fidgeting, the chewing on the insides of your mouth? Does that ring a bell?” Your brows raised into a questioning arch whilst the rest of your senses tried to ignore the feeling of dense muscles between your legs pressing up against you. Was he doing that on purpose to side-track you?

“It’s just what I do.” He shrugged his shoulders with flimsy indifference.

“Karl…” Your free hand slid between your bodies, fingers closing down increasingly firm around the shiny and smooth piece of jewelry.

“Yes?” He hissed back, his thigh now obviously rocking against your clothed cunt, causing you to involuntarily rutt your hips against him.

“Don’t…” The word that rolled over your tongue came only labored as the intense feeling of arousal grew and spread from your lower abdomen.

“Don’t what, sugar? Get your head all spinning like that?” Karl leaned in closer, the tip of his nose nudging yours and lips ready to swallow whatever answer you’d give with a hungry kiss.

“Actually-” His head rushed forward, his lips pressing against yours with his teeth scraping over your bottom lip like a hungry animal, beckoning you to shut the hell up.

However, you didn’t.

“Karl, stop, please.” He let go of you immediately, widened eyes looking at you puzzled and silently questioning.

By now you knew that he wouldn’t just hand you the answer if you asked for it directly, you had to lovingly pull and coax it out of him, had to make sure that you brought his intrinsic guard down gently.

“Let me do that.” Your words only led to a more intense furrow on his forehead and instead of adding even more to them, you let your body do the talking.

In one lazily languid stroke, both of your hands brushed upwards over his stomach, fingertips playing with the curly hairs of a fading happy trail and tracing the little round of his belly pooch on their way to his chest. Upon skin touching skin, you could’ve sworn that Karl had flinched, barely even noticeable yet the little jolt had been there, reminding the both of you that, after all, Karl was sensitive, especially so when being touched.

“What…?” He mumbled quietly, his gray eyes darting down to follow the flow of your fingers across his torso.

“I like your stomach, comfy…warm.”, You shushed him saccharinely-sweet, “Love cuddling against it at night.”

“Uh-huh.” He let that one slide, albeit begrudgingly and through gritted teeth, thin ice already.

Knowing that he was watching you intently, you leaned in, allowing your lips to pepper quick and teasing pecks to his chest.

It was a gamble but you felt quite daring today, letting the tip of your tongue glide along the thickened, pale rose-colored scar tissue that stretched across the skin in long welts. Karl let out a rumbling groan that vibrated right through you, reporting about pooling arousal and a twinge of…disgust. You edged further regardless.

“Love everything about you.”, Your gentle hum got lost in the crook of his neck before your teeth rasped down with the curve of his shoulder, “You’re beautiful.”

“Not much beauty to find between scars, shaggy hair, and an outgrown beard, sugar.” You had tripped over the border, Karl carefully grabbed your jaw and redirected your face to look right at him and the pained expression in his eyes about broke you. You understood why he preferred to hide them away behind a pair of pitch-black glasses. Too expressive, too vulnerable.

“Will you listen to me?”, You tried not to break away from his gaze and it took almost everything out of you, “Please.”

For an agonizingly long blink of an eye, you couldn’t tell whether or not you’d been able to not only save yourself from the plummeting feelings but just Karl as well for his grasp at your chin wasn’t yielding at first. The hardly even uttered, more than anything mouthed Please appeared to hit him where he truly felt and couldn’t ignore it away.

“What were you thinking about earlier?” The question slithered past your lips calmly, gently, and softly.

“Why are you even here?” He retorted in a harshly cold tone with a question himself that equally served as a painful answer.

“Because I love you, easy.” You threw it right back at him, trying to scare off what must’ve been going down in his thoughts but instead, you felt him flinch again, this time more noticeable although you weren’t even touching him.

Line, hook and sinker. It clicked with you and forced your stomach to twist and turn in every possible direction all at once. Karl went through the equally mortifying yet filling ordeal of knowing that he was loved and at that greatly so.

It posed as something far outside of his control and with that immediately rendered into possible danger. Karl Heisenberg never wanted anything to do with love ever again after first getting his heart broken before his body followed suit. Every scar on his body reminded him of heartbreak that hurt a thousand times worse than the cuts and experiments. Love had brought Karl the worst pain he’d ever felt and in an only natural reaction, he had wanted to get as far away from it as he possibly could and that worked just fine until you happened.

“Because I want to.” You answered further before he could throw anything else against your love confession whilst your hands pulled his away from your jawline and instead guided them to rest right on your hips, “Please let me show you how much.”

From the very way you looked right at him, unwavering and with nothing but compassion in your gaze, Karl knew that you weren’t exactly requesting but rather announcing. With a swift nod, he accepted and let his hands remain on your hips. You couldn’t exactly decipher his facial expression but the little sound slipping free from his throat gave away that he certainly enjoyed your tender lips closing down around his pierced nipple, tongue toying with the metal bar. Greedily, you sucked the pebbled skin into your mouth just hard enough to leave a little hickey before letting it plop from between your lips again. You paid attention to not neglecting the other side, repeating the same process of suckling a bruise into the sensitive skin.

“Fuck.” Karl breathed sharply and you snickered.

“Only if you hear me out.” Pushing the envelope a little further, you rolled your hips in his soft clasp.

“God, you’re so fucking mean sometimes.” He groaned eyes rolling behind halfway shut lids.

“Gets you hella hard, love.” You certainly weren’t lying and the entire width of your palm tracing the outlines of his quickly hardening cock above his pants pulled a moan from the depths of his lungs.

“I’m afraid you gotta listen to me rant about just how much I love you if you wanna tap that.”, The sly grin eventually returned to your face as you nuzzled your mouth into the dip of his collarbone, leaving kisses before traveling further up his neck, “How much I love playing with those piercings, gets me fucking wet just thinking about it, and how much I love getting needy for being fucked so good all the time.”

“Go on…” Karl pressed the meat and muscle of his thig against your fabric-clad pussy and you ground down harder, desperately chasing the friction.

“Oh, suddenly you’re interested, huh, big boy?” Your teeth sank into the flesh of his earlobe, pulling at it provocatively, “Hmhm, gotta listen to me moan and groan about how stupid I get when you fuck me from behind, belly slapping against my ass or how much I love that grown-out beard between my thighs when you eat me out.”

“Alright, that’s it.”, Without so much as a fair warning Karl tightened the grip around your hips to hoist you off of him in a sudden push and pull, “Devious woman.”

Before you knew it, you landed on the mattress back first, head pushing into the feathery pillow as Karl towered above you, keeping you down by pressing himself between your legs whilst he kept himself together to not tear your pants off your legs but instead swiftly undress you as civil as he could.

“Poked the bear long enough?” You grinned, watching how his eyes ate you up entirely from the laugh lines around your lips to the scar on your left cheek that you got from falling into a shard of glass as an unsupervised toddler.

“Shut up and let me fuck you stupid if you know what's good for you, buttercup.” The menacing grow that was his voice made your back arch from the mattress, pressing your exposed cunt against his crotch, demanding immediate attention.

“Good girl.” The brief praise carrying clear hints of a little mocking intention before he unzipped his khaki pants to shove his freed erection right into you until you whined out.

“Can’t fucking believe that I let you get under my skin like that, make me feel all heart-eyes fucking shit.” Karl drilled his cock into you until his balls slapped against the round of your ass, one arm snaking underneath your knee to prop it onto his shoulder whilst the other palm pressed your mouth shut, leaving you to breathe through your nose.

“Make all fucking mushy on the inside and get my cock hard with sweet words, dammit.” He bottomed out but only to thrust right back into you, picking up a reckless pace that rendered every leftover thought in your head into thin air.

With shaky hands, you clawed at his back, leading your fingernails to dig into his skin, making Karl hiss from the sudden sting of pain, eventually making him you even harder, bordering on the edge of violence and you reveled in every plunge of his hips. Carefully crafted compliments and honeyed nothings quickly made room for thickening air getting filled with the smell of sex and sweat. It seeped into you, the predominantly musky smell of his body mixed with hints of tobacco and strong coffee, and you let it, basking in his presence. It filled you up just like his girth did with every brutal rock of his hips that brought you closer to ecstasy. Without being able to help it in the slightest, you felt the coil in your lower abdomen twitch and tense up unbearably fast, pathetically fast even. You groaned into the palm of his hand, eyes fluttering shut whilst gasping for air through your nose. It rendered you lightheaded, being just primitively fucked into and for a moment you felt so overstimulated and overfilled that you believed to have missed your own orgasm until it took you apart entirely. In the very second the first contractions started clasping around his cock, Karl's hand was off your face to make room for his lips to devour every moan and whine that rippled through you as if he was drinking it all up.

“Fuck…shit…”, The roll of his hips started stuttering and Karl shoved himself onto you as much as he could without hurting you, “Milking me so fucking good.”

A handful of thrusts followed before his own climax took over, making him halt and pump his load inside of you. You felt the pulsing and twitching of his cock, the sensation sending post-orgasmic ripples of pleasure through you.

Instead of just pulling out of you, Karl slipped your sore leg off his shoulder and shamelessly fucked his release into you with sloppy thrusts, mixing it with the wet of your release. WIth his sweaty forehead pressed against your, he muttered a breathy: “Fuckinglove you, too, shithead.”

[meaningofaeons]

Hi!! I just started reading your stuff and I really like it!! I was wondering if I could request some headcanons with the HSR boys (your choice but I would appreciate one with Jing Yuan) with a reader who is part of the Stelleron hunters and their role is to clear up any clues they may have left behind not on purpose, the boys caught them in the act and they made a break for it, but after the event the reader finds themself to be looking after the boys more (you can decide whether they know or if they find out due to a coincidence) and they confront the reader about it.

- 🌙 Anon

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ stellaron spy

⊹ character(s) - dan heng, jing yuan ⊹ word count - 1.7k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, stellaron hunter!reader, a bit of angst, fluff, mystery, intrigue, oh my!

hi 🌙 anon!!!! omy my first named anon (₌♥ᆽ♥₌) I'm so glad to hear you enjoy my writing!!! I was very tempted to add sampo to the mix here but as the stellaron hunters were not involved much with anyone in belobog I decided against it. but who knows?! maybe a p2 for this will come out! anyways, thank you for the request my lovely!!! I had fun with it! (๑✪ᆺ✪๑)

post editing katze here - I'm so sorry these read more like scenarios than hcs but all my hcs kinda do </3 I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

⊹ Dan Heng

Your assignment was simple: Clean up the Stellaron Hunters' presence in the Herta Space Station, and leave no trace of your own visit.

As a member of the highly skilled group, you were more than prepared and qualified.

And of course, Kafka and Silver Wolf saw fit to leave a mess behind for you as always.

They never did anything beyond Elio's allowance in order to guide the universe to the correct future, and it's not as if they had anything against you, but you still somehow ended up with a large workload each time.

A stray piece of Silver Wolf's code here, a bullet with Kafka's insignia on it there.

Nothing out of the ordinary, and all seemingly meaningless in the pursuit of the ideal future. Things that would be cast aside by the average person, if not missed entirely.

And yet, that's why you were here—those very "meaningless" pieces of evidence were specific items ordered by Elio that could cause the single tip of a domino should they be found and investigated. The most insignificant things could completely restructure the path you were on, and by extension, Elio's plans.

Of course, Destiny's Slave didn't tell you everything.

Specifically, he neglected to mention you literally bumping into a member of the Astral Express Crew.

On the way into a restricted section full of monsters.

Just perfect.

"Ah, I'm terribly sorry!" You were flustered, yes, but it served as a good cover considering your disguise as a researcher.

The man before you looked indifferent by nature, but something about you caught his eye, and he put his arms out to steady you.

"It's fine. Why are you heading into a restricted zone?"

"Ahh, I'm okay! Just grabbing some of my research materials! If you'll excuse me..."

He didn't seem content to leave you to do as you wished considering your disguise, but then he caught sight of the bullet you held. Kafka's bullet, signature carved into the side and all.

He put two and two together, his blue eyes widening.

"You—"

Before he could say anything further, you had vanished, hearing his footsteps chasing after you after ducking into an alcove. He came and went, and you found yourself alone again.

Well, there goes a smooth mission... He's surely off to alert security.

As the days passed, you continued your task. Of course, Kafka had given you a predictable answer when you confronted her about the run-in with the black-haired man.

"That would be Dan Heng of the Astral Express Crew. Don't worry. You were fated to meet. As I'm sure you know, your foresight on meeting him would have ruined the future."

Of course.

However, the young man intrigued you, and you eventually found yourself watching over him more and more.

He went to get lunch? You would subtly switch your disguise and be in line right behind him.

He took a walk around the station? You weren't far behind.

He entered a restricted zone to assist? You cleared out a couple of monsters ahead of him to make his job easier.

It's all for the mission, you'd justify. Just monitoring him to ensure he doesn't throw a wrench into Elio's plans.

Eventually, your little side-mission caught up to you.

"I really should just turn you in."

A pale hand had reached over your head, grabbing the information tablet above you, and you paused.

Compared to your previous meeting, you were a lot more calm. After all, as Kafka had said, you only needed trust in Elio and his future.

"Then why haven't you?"

The dark-haired man couldn't provide an answer.

"Are you here to stir up trouble again... Stellaron Hunter?"

"Just the opposite, really."

Dan Heng was perplexed, yet intrigued—two feelings he didn't experience often.

"I really should...—ugh. Never mind. For now, I won't do a thing. But I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"I will do the same for you."

"I've noticed."

"Then I'm sure you've noticed the gift I left in your pocket."

As soon as he looked down, you were gone. Still, you weren't lying—there in his pocket lay a piece of paper with your contact information... along with an alias.

Dan Heng didn't know what to feel, but a strange warmth filled his cheeks, and he ran a hand over his face.

What... just happened?

You, meanwhile, having completed your mission, met back up with Kafka in only a few hours' time.

"Your number, hm? Smooth, Y/N. I didn't think you had it in you. Should I consider this a betrayal?"

"Hush up, Kafka. You know this was bound to happen."

"Astute as always."

You had to hold back your groan along with your own reddened cheeks.

⊹ Jing Yuan

Being a Stellaron Hunter meant trusting Elio no matter what, even if it seemed to be at your own peril.

Even with his indifference towards his own and your lives in the face of the necessary future, Destiny's Slave had assured you and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters that you were not to be expended for the cause.

At least, not for a very, very long time.

So why is the General of the Xianzhou Luofu in front of you right now?

This wasn't in the plan! Only Kafka and Blade were meant to be arrested!

Your momentary panic caused you to forget the obvious—

You're not on any wanted lists, you have not been seen associating with either detained Stellaron Hunter on the Luofu, and you're posed as a completely ordinary Xianzhou Outworlder.

On top of that... Kafka had secured you a (fake) position somewhat close to the General for intel-gathering. For all intents and purposes, you were meant to be here.

But that handsome face honestly made your brain run on empty at the most crucial moment. And besides, your false position wasn't that high up!

Unless it was, and the information was withheld in case you got captured...

You wondered if Elio could laugh, and if he could, whether he was amused by your current blunder. Surely, all according to the plan of destiny.

"Goodness. I knew I had some level of charm somehow, but to think I'd evoke such a reaction."

You froze up upon General Jing Yuan moving his face even closer to yours, inspecting you carefully.

"Or perhaps you're just intimidated by me?"

Focus, Y/N, focus!

"Not at all, General," you were quick to respond, impressing even yourself at the steadiness in your voice. "I was simply stunned that the General would greet me, a mere advisor, personally."

"Well, mere advisor, I find you enthralling. Please report to work tomorrow directly to my desk. I'll have you assist me with my paperwork."

...Huh?

That's how you found yourself roped into being Jing Yuan's personal assistant.

The incident with Kafka and Blade progressed naturally, but you found yourself with more and more work.

All to keep up the cover of a simple employee trying to earn your daily wages, you supposed. Not to mention, the closeness of it all allowed you intel on Jing Yuan that you never would have acquired otherwise.

It made sense that this was Elio's plan all along, but you were still a bit bittersweet about your circumstances.

The sweet part being... Well, the General was nice to look at, and he wasn't a bad conversationalist, either.

And of course, the intel. The intel was good. You were certainly still focused on it.

When he ate, when he took walks (casual ones, he assured you when you were forced to join him, but you knew it was a guise for patrolling the Luofu), and when he trained with Yanqing, the Cloud Knight Lieutenant.

Everything went straight to Elio's ear.

The bitter part... Everything else.

Every day, you wondered if the General knew your identity and purpose. Yet he never spoke a word of it.

And his requests were getting more ridiculous by the day!

"Y/N, would you be so kind as to keep me company while I finish my paperwork?"

"That would be highly unprofessional... I must clock out for the night."

Another night, it was something else.

"Y/N, how about a game of chess?"

"We're working, General."

"Call me Jing Yuan, would you? 'General' is far too uptight."

"That would also be unprofessional!"

"Isn't it more unprofessional to deny your superior's request?"

Now you were sure of it. Elio, along with Kafka, Blade, and Silver Wolf, and every single one of the other Stellaron Hunters...

They were watching this all like a horrendous, slow-burn, romantic sitcom, and they were laughing their heads off at you running yourself ragged. That had to be it.

However, all good? things come to an end. It was only a few months in that you were called to clean up yet another Stellaron Hunter operation.

And with that, your resignation was plopped on Jing Yuan's desk in the dead of night, with you and him being the only two souls in the entirety of the Seat of Divine Foresight.

"...So, that's it?"

"I'm afraid so."

That smile of his made you want to stay, though you'd never say it aloud.

"Well, I suppose Stellarons are present in many different worlds."

Your jaw could've dropped. It was a miracle your face remained stoic.

"Do come back and visit me, though? Or better yet, desert them entirely and stay by my side?"

The tone was teasing, but the longing was still buried beneath it all.

When your face hardened, his smile softened.

"Of course not. I understand the feeling of being unable to abandon your comrades, your cause. Still, I do hope we meet again."

With a laugh at your silence, he unclasped one of the blue tassels from his uniform and put it right into your expectant hand—instinct on your part at his gesture.

"Return that to me soon. Don't make me wait too long. After all, without it, my coat is asymmetrical. Not a great look for the General of the Luofu, is it, my dear?"

"...No. I suppose it isn't."

It took you less than the space of a breath to vanish from his office, and you knew you likely wouldn't be back—not for a long time, that is—but Jing Yuan's tassel remained in your belongings nonetheless.

[echos-gal]

I was talking with one of my best friends about Star Wars characters being brought back and the possibility that Tech might return in a future work, and realized that even though TBB has ended, Star Wars has a really high track record of bringing back characters in other works, set after their supposed "death." Basically, no one ever comes back in the same movie/show/work they "died" in:

Maul: "died" in The Phantom Menace, brought back in The Clone Wars.

Gregor: "died" in The Clone Wars, brought back quite some time later in Rebels (and The Bad Batch, which comes first chronologically)

Echo: "died" in The Clone Wars, brought back SEVERAL YEARS LATER in the seventh season (I'm counting this as a separate show because it was not continuous - the show was revived)

Boba Fett: "died" in Return of the Jedi, brought back in The Mandalorian. DECADES LATER.

Asajj Ventress: "died" (died? like actually?) in Dark Disciple, brought back in The Bad Batch

Palpatine: somehow Palpatine returned

I feel like I'm missing some, but you get the point. The only ones I can think of who have died and come back in the same series are Ahsoka in Rebels and Fennec Shand in The Mandalorian.

There are also a couple characters whose fates have been left purposely open in order to have the possibility of bringing them back. Sev from Republic Commando is one who comes to mind. He is left behind in a war zone on a mission, and while Karen Traviss (author of the RepComm books) wanted to continue his story in a novel, Star Wars told her no because they wanted to keep plans open for Sev at a later time. We haven't gotten any additional Sev content yet, but his fate still isn't sealed.

Another is Mace Windu. I know George Lucas was like "he is dead for sure" but fans really want him back and so does Samuel L Jackson. I can see George changing his mind. Windu is a badass and beloved by fans. Another character who "fell," no body no death, and people are pretty adamant about getting him back because they liked him so much.

What I am trying to say is that Tech is a fan-favorite character whose story felt unfinished to many viewers. I'd say most of us were waiting every episode of season 3 for him to return, and the writers know that. Jennifer Corbett is on twitter and is very aware that "Tech Lives" is a huge thing in the Bad Batch fandom.

There are more animated works planned, as well: we know that Omega will likely appear again as an adult. There's like a 95% chance that a clone rebellion series is in the works, considering that they set it up in The Bad Batch. And Nika Futterman has hinted that Ventress will be appearing in future works. Tech could (and SHOULD) be brought back in any of these!

So yeah.... TECH LIVES

[agatharkn3ss]

the Tarot reading (spoilers)

We have today's clip from ep.7, where Lilia explains the layout of the Safe Passage tarot spread. In one of the promos, there is also a shot showing cards on the table in that same spread, so I thought I'll put the two together, just for fun!

In the clip it looks like maybe Lilia is doing a reading for Billy as he's sat in front of her? But the cards below seem like they would suit Agatha better (though I'll leave the psychic interpretations to you!). So maybe they all get a reading each?

(The card meanings taken from biddytarot.com)

Card 1: "You, The Traveller": Five of Wands [Reversed]

UPRIGHT: Conflict, disagreements, competition, tension, diversity REVERSED: Inner conflict, conflict avoidance, tension release In the Five of Wands, five men appear to be fighting each other, using their wands as weapons. However, on closer observation, their wands are raised but not striking or injuring anyone. It is as if there is no real purpose or outcome in this chaotic scene other than to create conflict and sow discord amongst the group. Each man wears a different outfit, symbolising their diverse backgrounds and belief systems, and suggesting that, because of their differences, they cannot find harmony and common ground with one another

Card 2: "What's missing, the reason for your quest": Two of Wands

UPRIGHT: Future planning, progress, decisions, discovery REVERSED: Personal goals, inner alignment, fear of unknown, lack of planning The Two of Wands shows a man, dressed in a red robe and hat, holding a small globe. The world is literally in his hands, marking the enormous potential before him if he can expand his horizons accordingly. He stands within the confines of his castle, suggesting that while he is contemplating significant opportunities, the man has not yet left his comfort zone to pursue them; he is still very much in the planning phase. His hand rests on an upright wand, and a second wand is affixed to the castle’s wall, a further sign that he is still not ready to venture out. In the background, the land is fertile while also rocky, promising that he has a good chance for success, so long as he can overcome the challenges that will arise.

Card 3: "The path behind, wounds suffered, lessons learnt": The World

UPRIGHT: Completion, integration, accomplishment, travel REVERSED: Seeking personal closure, short-cuts, delays The World card shows a naked woman wrapped in a purple cloth, dancing inside a large laurel wreath. She looks behind her to the past, while her body moves forward to the future. In her hands are two wands or batons, like the one The Magician holds. It is a symbol that what was manifested with The Magician has now come to completion with The World. The wreath is circular, symbolizing a continual cycle of successful completion and new beginnings because, as the woman steps through the wreath, she is completing one phase but beginning another one almost straight away. Around the wreath are four figures (a lion, bull, cherub and eagle), similar to those in the Wheel of Fortune. Both The World and the Wheel of Fortune speak to the cyclical nature of your life and your progression through its cycles. The four figures represent the four fixed signs of the Zodiac—Leo, Taurus, Aquarius, and Scorpio. They are symbolic of the four elements, the four suits of Tarot, four compass points, four seasons, and the four corners of the Universe. They are here to guide you from one phase to the next, bringing balance and harmony to your journey.

Card 4: "The path ahead, space for growth and discovery": Page of Swords

UPRIGHT: New ideas, curiosity, thirst for knowledge, new ways of communicating REVERSED: Self-expression, all talk and no action, haphazard action, haste The Page of Swords shows a young man standing with his sword pointing upwards to the sky. His body and the sword lean in one direction, but he looks the other way as if to see what else is happening around him. A breeze blows through the young man’s hair, and the clouds behind him appear to dash through the sky, bringing dynamic energy to the card. The ground on which the Page stands is green and fertile, suggesting that the Page’s ideas are likely to bring positive change and forward movement.

Card 5: "Obstacles": Wheel of Fortune (btw this card - and the Tower card - was also shown behind William Kaplan in Lilia's tent at the bar mitzvah)

UPRIGHT: Good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point REVERSED: Bad luck, resistance to change, breaking cycles The Wheel of Fortune card shows a giant wheel, with three figures on the outer edges. Four Hebrew letters – YHVH (Yod Heh Vau Heh), the unpronounceable name of God – are inscribed on the wheel’s face. There are also the letters TORA, thought to be a version of the word Torah, meaning ‘law’, or TAROT, or even ROTA (Latin for ‘wheel’). The middle wheel has the alchemical symbols for mercury, sulphur, water and salt – the building blocks of life and the four elements – and represents formative power. On the outer circle is a snake, the Egyptian god Typhon (the god of evil), descending on the left side. The snake also represents the life force plunging into the material world. On the right side rises the Anubis, the Egyptian God of the dead who welcomes souls to the underworld. And on top of the wheel sits the Sphinx, representing knowledge and strength. In the corners of the Wheel of Fortune card are four winged creatures, each associated with the four fixed signs of the Zodiac: the angel is Aquarius, the eagle is Scorpio, the lion is Leo, and the bull is Taurus. Their wings signify stability amidst movement and change, and each holds the Torah, representing wisdom.

Card 6: "A potential Windfall": The Hanged Man

UPRIGHT: Pause, surrender, letting go, new perspectives REVERSED: Delays, resistance, stalling, indecision The Hanged Man shows a man suspended from a T-shaped cross made of living wood. He is hanging upside-down, viewing the world from a completely different perspective, and his facial expression is calm and serene, suggesting that he is in this hanging position by his own choice. He has a halo around his head, symbolizing new insight, awareness and enlightenment. His right foot is bound to the tree, but his left foot remains free, bent at the knee and tucked in behind his right leg. His arms are bent, with hands held behind his back, forming an inverted triangle. The man is wearing red pants representing human passion and the physical body, and a blue vest for knowledge. The Hanged Man is the card of ultimate surrender, of being suspended in time and of martyrdom and sacrifice to the greater good.

Card 7: "The Destination": Ten of Swords

UPRIGHT: Painful endings, deep wounds, betrayal, loss, crisis REVERSED: Recovery, regeneration, resisting an inevitable end The Ten of Swords shows a man lying face down, apparently dead, with ten swords in his back. A red cape drapes over the lower half of his body as a sign of dignity as he leaves this world. While the dark sky is ominous, the sun is rising on the horizon, bringing a renewed sense of hope and opportunity. The calm sea in the background also brings solace, suggesting that even in times of darkness, there is a sense of peace and calm to be found.

[nnicknnelsonn]

The New York Times Review:

The Broadway revival of “Romeo + Juliet” plays to the TikTok crowd. But maybe that’s a good thing.

Source: New York Times Oct 24, 2024 (X)

Mostly positive, which is impressive from the NYT! Hopefully offsets the negative reviews. (X)

Kit Connor and Rachel Zegler and a viral pull-up

…Connor needs no help in keeping and maintaining the emotional temperature, easily enlarging the tenderness and obliviousness of his Nick on “Heartstopper” to fit the stage. When he looks into Juliet’s eyes, you see what he wants and how seriously he wants it; when he walks among his riotous peers, as they hump Teddy bears and sniff out insults, you see how little that means to him now.

Connor is also a very physical actor, or at any rate his recently beefed-up, often tank-topped body is given a workout. Instead of just climbing to Juliet’s balcony — represented by the design collective dots as a flowery bed that descends from the heavens — he does a leaping pull-up from the ground to get there, then lifts himself farther to achieve full face time. This is a lover with lats.

But a manly Romeo and a tiny Juliet — Connor is nearly a foot taller than Zegler — creates, or reinforces, a problem. It’s disturbing enough in the Shakespeare when Lady Capulet tells her 13-year-old daughter that “ladies of esteem” her age are “already made mothers.” With an actor who, despite his baby face, looks much older than his years (Connor is 20) and an actress who looks much younger than hers (Zegler is 23) you’re left in an indeterminate space between ancient and current levels of ick.

It’s wise, then, that despite the supercharged sexuality of the staging otherwise, Gold limits the pair’s lovemaking to gropes and kisses.

…Gold’s staging is perhaps the busiest and funniest I’ve seen, a lot of the humor coming from the dotty nurse, whom Shakespeare designed for that purpose. (She is played with Valley Girl snark by Tommy Dorfman, who also plays Tybalt.) And though there is, of course, violence, it is broadly mimed and deliberately mild. What the production emphasizes instead is unfairness, as teenagers tend to do as well, wanting limits to excuse their whining.

The play is thus less terrifying than teenifying — hence the plus sign instead of the “and” in the title. The lobby, lit like a junior high school prom, offers not just the expected merch and specialty mocktails but a table where ticket holders can learn about registering to vote. The choreography by Sonya Tayeh lands perfectly in the zone between professional movement and what a nerd might do in front of a mirror. Fangirling and fanboying are strongly encouraged. There is nothing unlikable about any of this.

It’s a little slick, though, at least for seen-that adults. The play’s twisty language, expressive of twisty thoughts, is largely untangled but, in the process, flattened. (Gold’s edit brings the running time, not counting intermission, to “the two hours’ traffic of the stage” Shakespeare mentions, but some of that traffic is stop-and-go.) I smiled a lot but never came close to crying.

Is that a reasonable response to aim for when staging the world’s most famous weepie? For me, seeing so many young people engaged, it is. Perhaps, as Shakespeare commands in the play’s closing speech, they will “Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things.” And so what if the production achieves that goal by protecting them from too much unruly feeling, just as the Capulets aimed to protect Juliet? Probably, the Capulets were right.

[fic-heaven]

Duty's Price.

1. Philip Graves.

⚠️ Gore ⚠️ /Heavy angst/ fluff to angst/ hurt no comfort/ loss/ madness / poor Graves looses his mind and his love

🐥Part one of a series of gorey and angsty shorts I'll be making to practice my written gore as well as the descriptions of grief and trauma, ALWAYS involving Reader's death.

-You have always loved Graves. Sadly, sometimes the consequences of loving the wrong man could cost you your very own life.

Again, ⚠️GORE WARNING⚠️

.

Your last words to Phillip: "I'm so sorry, commander..."

_______

The love and loyalty you had for Phillip Graves was unlike any other he has ever received.

Graves, like any other men who got to meet you, was instantly weak for you. You held a devotion for him that stroked his ego in unimaginable ways, but it was your unquestionable loyalty what got him tempted to test the lengths of your love for him while increasing his affection for you.

You had confessed more than once, and although he'd always make his feelings for you clear, he never really said "I love you."

Graves had a plan. A plan he'd order you to fulfill, much to his later regret and grief. A plan that involved a tank. To secure his scape or fake his own death depending on if you were able to kill the 141 and/or los Vaqueros before they could kill you. Phillip needed a very loyal and strong shadow to drive the tank, and with little luck, kill Soap and Rodolfo while he scaped Las Almas.

The first time you confessed, he had kissed you right then and there on the landing zone in the middle of a sea of shadows while waiting for your pilot to take you to Acapulco where you two would meet general Shepard for the very first time and strike an alliance. The second time was at his new office, he ended up hauling you to his desk and using his new forniture for the wrong purpose. Finally, the third time was in Las Almas when you were celebrating Valeria's capture, but that time he didn't kiss or make love to you, much less confessed that he love you back, instead he nuzzled your cheek with his thumb and smirked before breathing out a "Prove it, darlin'. One last act of loyalty and I promise after we get Hassan's ass I'll give us a try." You arched a brow at this but didn't question it one bit, as there was nothing you desired more than to finally be by his side in a more... Romantic way.

He chose you. Whose love and devotion for your commander was bigger than the affection you held for your previous allies, or so he thought. Phillip was convinced you'd be victorious in your mission of killing them, your habilites never disappointed him after all, you were sharpminded and your aim was unlike any of his other shadows. The thing was... You had shared victories and defeats with Soap and the others, you held each other, healed each other, bled, laughed and cried together working side by side. You were loyal to your people, and this treasonous move your beloved commander pulled, even if you had planned this from the start, wasn't something you fully supported.

Even so, you played your part faithfully parting from you commander with a final deep kiss he surprisingly initiated. He left with two escorts to a secured Humvee and you drove the tank to the training yard, turned the speakers on so your commander's voice would taunt the others to make them think he was inside and later you fought against Soap.

A fight between a man and a tank. Victory was secured right? Right...?

The more exploding sounds Graves heard coming from the walkie hidden in the cabinet of the tank the more scared and unsure he got. It was clear on the way his voice wavered while taunting Johnny, how he cursed when he heard the mines the Scotsman planted explode one by one wrecking the tank and violently shaking the cabinet with you in it. But to Graves dismay and luck, It only added more credibility to the farse... While you purposely missed and cursed at the bond you formed with Soap that was now a heavy weakness in your fight against him, Johnny kept trying to literally blow you up with anything he had at hand thinking it was Graves occupying your seat inside the tank. But frankly, after your betrayal, you think he wouldn't hesitate on his attacks if he knew it was you.

The heavy smoke and beeping console inside the tank were clear signs of your defeat. So, as you completed your final act of loyalty to Phillip, you took the walkie-talkie with a shaky hand and weakly spoke.

"I'm so sorry, commander..." You weren't going to attend your first date after all.

Just after that, a loud explosion announced your death kilometers from him. Graves could hear it from the racing humvee, could feel it on his bones, on his heavy heart, on his rotten soul.

He just stared ahead, turned off the quiet walkie-talkie and kept silent the whole way to his base.

A few days passed. Imagine the pain the commander endured when all they could save from you was a sad sack of crisped dust inside a fucking cardboard box. It was insulting. It was disgusting. Phillip was in denial, his brain couldn't process that all that was left of you was inside that sad container. He couldn't understand how that friday when he had kissed you goodbye before the tank fight, a few hours later you'd be reduced to ashes like this. He couldn't accept it nor believe it.

With constant insistence, his own shadows relented and revealed that the ashes they gathered were just remnants near the tank but they wouldn't deny that a part of you wasn't in that cardboard box either which had him stop his restless pacing around his office.

"P-part...?" He parroted, eyes injected in blood from not sleeping in days.

With hesitation one of the shadows approaches his commander warily. "Sir. As a widowed husband, I understand your grief. But trust me when I tell you, sir... That in between seeing my wife's body and what they presented me of her... I would have preferred to fool myself into thinking that those ashes in your counter are all that's left of her." Graves thanked his sincerety and advice. But the ache and denial in his heart pushed him to force his shadows into letting him see what they ACTUALLY recovered from you.

The fruits of his betrayal. The outcome of his scape plan was a few floors down. He should have listened to his shadow.

His breaths became chocked, with shaky shoulders shivering violently, a weak yelp arupted from him when his knees buckled under him making him fall to the floor next to where they had left you. He was having a panic attack. The tears on his eyes felt so hot he immediately thought they'd melt his face just like what happened to you, and the flash of your body on his mind and the fact that it was resting one feet to his right was enough for his brain to scream in terror.

Your remnants were scattered on a table, it's metallic color contrasted with the carbonized bones, the torn scraps of the burnt uniform you wore barely united the pieces of your mangled torso and limbs. You were missing a whole arm from the shoulder and your right hand was detached from your other forearm. Both your feet were gone and your legs were nothing but bone mid thigh. Your head, or what little they gathered from it, was completely detached from the rest of the body. His watery eyes could only make out your fractured jawbone, the ligaments, tendons and some muscle were out the air still uniting the jaw piece to the cracked skull, it's skin was melted, mangled beyond recognition, your eyes were missing as they had to be the first thing that melted from your face, and a few locks of hair remained attached to a very small part of sunburnt scalp. Phillip barked everyone to get out, his tense body wasn't fully facing what was left of you as he couldn't contain his gaze on your corpse for longer than a fucking minute.

Never on his life had Graves felt such fright. His shaky legs hardened, stood him up and he immediately ran, the fight or flight response his brain suddenly got from the view he had just witnessed filled him with such terror and ache it was maddening. In a blink he was running away from his shadows all throughout the base as the men tried to stop their commander, to calm him, to speak to him, some were pushed, others even received a punch. Phillip felt like a child being chased by demons, demons who wrecked your body leaving it a mangled mess. His thoughts were running a mile per minute, thinking of your crisped corpse being eaten by crows, or any other wild life from Las Almas while the culprits celebrated their victory against him, of Soap taunting him back by exploding and burning your beautiful body while he was scaping the country like a coward, of the steel bracelet he gifted you the day of your promotion which he saw before in the room where they had placed your body, the steel had gathered so much heat it melted your skin to the bone until your wrist had detached from your arm. Without realizing he was screaming like a mad man pointing and swinging a knife to whoever tried to approach him while his feet carried him out the training yard.

He curses whoever was above for punishing him like this. His throat felt raw from the loud screams he had let out into the night's air, the crisp cold hit his sweating body like he had entered a giant fridge. His hair is wild as his hands keep tugging on his locks and scratching his own face, his uniform is damp with some stains of green from throwing himself into the wet grass of the training field. He was squirming on the spot as if he was getting electrocuted by a wave of sorrow and shock struggling to get a hold of himself, standing up only to lose balance and fall to the cold grass again and again, just like the newborn foals he helped birth at his father's farm learning how to stand without the help of their mother.

He was going mad then and there. As the shadows who ran after him pinned his body still and one of them tried to sedate their commander after disarming him in his crazed state. Right then as he struggled on the floor against all the shadows trying to calm him, Phillip knew he had lost his mind compleatly. When his eyes saw another shadow across the field, still and unmoving like a tree, the shadow took their helmet and face mask throwing them carelessly to the grass and he saw you. Your face was sad but stern. It held disappointment and... Betrayal.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart... I-I didn't mean to, this wasn't supposed to happen. Please don't look at me like that.. don't- PLEASE...!" He couldn't say it out loud as whatever they had injected into his veins was making him feel a strong wave of dizziness until his eyes closed and the last thing he saw was your form melting right before his pinned body, an invisible fire taking your life once again, your screams were silent as the commander was held too far from you. He felt useless unable to rescue even the fake you his own mind had projected.

How pathetic was that? How pathetic was him?

He'll never be the same. Not without his (Y/n). But gods be damned if he gave up on ending the entire 141 unit.

.

[five-rivers]

timer

@echoghost1 @everfascinated

.

It hovered over the surface of the portal, clearly separate from it.  A large, flat, disk shape, with a pale, luminous face.  More vivid numbers circled the edge, painted neatly.  A single, delicate, metal hand pointed towards the number seven, on the left side of the clock.  It had been pointing there for the past hour or so, ever since it had been noticed.  

Maddie drummed her fingers on the workbench she stood next to.  The timer - because what else could it be? - was, thus far, a mystery to her.  Usually, Maddie liked mysteries.  Exploring the mysteries of the Ghost Zone had been the reason they had built the portal in the first place.  This mystery was fascinating, and Maddie was excited about it, but it was also incredibly troubling.  

Obviously, the timer - hovering, green, immovable - was ghostly in origin.  What else could it be?  But how did a ghost place get in here to place it?  For what purpose?  How much time was left?  What was it counting down to?  It couldn’t be anything good.  Ghosts had no love for her family or their works.  

As soon as she’d noticed it, she and Jack had started taking readings, but nothing they did gave them anything conclusive, or any way to get rid of the thing.  

It was frustrating and troubling.  Frustrating and troubling.  

“Uh, Mom?  Dad?  It’s six and we were wondering if you wanted us to order dinner or anything…”

Maddie looked up to see Danny coming down the stairs.  

“Oh, sure!” said Jack.  “Pizza sounds great, son!”

“Yeah.  What are you even– What’s that?”  

Danny stared wide-eyed at the timer for a long moment, and Maddie moved to reassure him.  Danny was always so timid around ghosts, so afraid.  This timer was doubtlessly malevolent, but she and Jack wouldn’t let it do anything to Danny.  

Briefly, Danny’s eyes gleamed green.  Then, slowly, but inevitably, he collapsed.

Maddie leaped forward, keeping Danny from hitting his head on the bottom step by the narrowest of margins.  “Jack!”  

“What happened?” he asked, hurrying over.  “Danny?  Danny?  Talk to me, son!  Can you hear me?”

Danny’s eyes fluttered open briefly, overly reflective, then shut again.

“I’m setting up the quarantine booth,” said Maddie.  “Will you carry him?”

Jack nodded, grimly.  

They’d gotten the quarantine booth set up after Vlad’s unfortunate recurrence of ecto-acne and the revelation that ecto-acne could be contagious under certain circumstances.  It was sealed, filtered, protected, shielded.  Every precaution they could think of had gone into it. 

… and, yes, they should use those precautions more often, but Maddie and Jack loved getting up close and personal with the subjects of study.  

“We need to get that thing shielded,” said Jack as he set Danny on the bed.  He rushed out towards the timer and started setting up shield projectors around the portal.  

Maddie, meanwhile, pulled the medical scanner free from the ceiling.  Well, ‘medical scanner’ was a very sci-fi way of putting it, when really it was quite prosaic, if you knew how it worked.

She positioned it over Danny’s body and set it to taking data. 

Temperature, low, heart rate, low, bones, intact, nervous system… that part of the scanner didn’t work all that well, ignore that reading…  

Ectoplasm levels were off the charts.  

Maddie inhaled deeply.  Stay calm, stay calm.  They would fix this.  They’d cured Vlad and Danny’s friends, they could cure this, whatever it was.  They would get rid of that timer and they’d save Danny.  

“Mom?” said Danny, weakly.  

“Hey, sweetie,” said Maddie.  “How are you feeling?”  

“Bad,” said Danny.  He tried to sit up, but Maddie pushed him back down.  “What’s happening?”

“You collapsed suddenly,” said Maddie.  “We’re trying to figure out why.”

Danny raised one hand to his face.  Green light reflected off his hand.  Understanding flicked over his features.  

“Okay, but I think I’m feeling better, now,” he said.  He tried to sit up again.  

“We need to figure out what happened before you go running around,” said Maddie, pushing him down again.  She looked over at Jack, through the thick, transparent sides of the quarantine booth.  Jack was now trying to throw a towel over the timer and–

Wait a moment.  

“Stay down,” she told Danny.  “Let the scanner do its job.”  She walked out of the quarantine booth.  “Wait, Jack, wait.”

“But we have to keep it from affecting Danny.  We don’t know if its effect is visual or what.”

“I know, I know,” said Maddie.  “But look at it.  Look at the hand.”

The hand, which had been pointing at the number seven, was now pointing at the number six.  

Jack scowled at the timer and tried to throw the towel over it again.  The towel passed through it.  “Are we sure this is a timer, Mads?  Maybe the numbers are counting down charges or something like that.”

“I don’t know, it still looks more like a timer to me.”

“But why did it affect Danny like that?” 

“I don’t know.  We need to start decontamination procedures right away, though.  His ectoplasm levels are off the charts.  The sudden spike is probably what made him collapse, but I don’t know how this could have increased his ectoplasm levels so much so quickly.”

I don’t know either,” said Jack.  He picked up the latest version of the Fenton Finder (which incidentally, still detected Danny more often than not) and shook it.  “None of the detectors we have pointed at it picked up anything.  Nothing going towards Danny, nothing ambient, nothing anywhere else.”

Maddie had hoped that their detectors had picked something up, but with the continued failures of the Fenton Finder, maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised.  

“We’ll keep looking,” said Maddie.  She was forgetting something.  What was she forgetting?  “Jazz.  We need to tell Jazz, so she doesn’t come down here.  What if it only affects minors?”

“Righto,” said Jack, shoving the Finder at Maddie.  “I’ll do that, you start the decontam procedures!”

Maddie nodded tightly and turned back to Danny.  She could see his eyes gleaming from here.But they could fix this.