#(thought id start adding that since i plan to do more drawings for them and not everyone reads my bio (not that i blame you just putting it

[sassykitkat22]

Now i love how vlads obsession switched gears and id like to add to it by making it once more extend onto another person

Jasmine dun dun dunnnnnn

As we know from the show danny got added to his obsession regarding Maddie and Jack after discovering danny is a halfa like him

And since its done a 180 here i think after a while of interacting with jack at some point will brag about his oldest daughter and eventually go down to how many times she helped keep dannys secret as well as make to steer the conversation away from phantom during dinner

And you know making sure jack and Maddie pulled away to actually take care of themselves

What is going through vlads head is something along the lines of

I see while me and jack where blinded by that

she devil my dear niece was not only making sure danny was able to feel safe and comfortable

But also insured my brother from another mother wasn't being worked to the bone by she who shall not be named and making sure he ate food

And yes vlad knows if someone isn't there to check in on jack then he will get sucked into the invention zone but his best buddy is very passionate about technology and we all get that way sometimes

But that tendency had to be ten time worse because no doubt Maddie brushed off any thoughts his best friend could have had about taking a break in order to use his mind to further her goals just like how she did when he was left in the hospital half alive half dead

Why it must have been a constant struggle to ensure jacks continued good health but his niece managed to pulled through

Suddenly, any trouble jazz my have had with uptight rich kids disappears as they try to avoid her and if she ever had to take a loan for college any debt has been paid off

-------

Jack finds a harley quinn on death's door after an argument with the joker one day and decides to help her get back to health

Now jazz as a psychology majore in gotham had heard the story of Dr. Harleen Quinzel at her school, teachers have used her as a cautionary tale about being carful to keep patients at an arms length and some have even done research papers on her because they consider her morbidly fascinating

Some say she's someone who was tragically doomed to fall into being a Rouge eventually due to her family background.

While others consider her a someone who was manipulated, warped by the joker and could have has a normal life if she never encountered him.

One day, she goes to visit her family after having a bit of essay writing block and deciding to take a step back and take a small break

just to find out that her lovable himbo crime lord dad has taken in said

"fuck it if my family can get away with having ties to the criminal underworld why can't I"

Jazz get help on her essay as well as someone to talk psychology to

and harley gets help breaking away from the joker obsession!

Harly, when healed enough, decides to teach jazz some tricks she's learned since in the profession jazz is planning to go into. It's better to be safe than sorry

(Now jazz knows how to aim! Though she still prefes the anti creep stick)

(P.s she's crossed out Fenton and wrote Nightingale creepstick)

Danny, with his dislike and general distrust for clowns, tries to supervise only to get pulled in and eventually get some therapy

Harley after learning about Maddie and what she tried to do to danny decides to join jacks team and gets adopted as a pseudo sibling by Jack

and that's the day she gained a non-shitty but kinda crazy family as well as a place she can feel safe.

Thus, Auntie Harley was born

(Bud and loo are kinda like guard dogs for the building, and Jack absolutely helps to spoil them)

(She and Jazz definitely tag team to help curve their family's bad habits at some point)

(She's helping Danny make chaos as soon as they are left in a room together)

(She is also the therapist for jacks helpers though people where definitely wary of her at first they eventually got use to her)

Now keep in mind she sees how Vlad acts, and while she understands the whole ghost obsession thing, she tends to help keep him on a bit of a leash and pulls him back if it starts negatively affecting everyone with both words and a good smack to the head

------

Something i want to add is vlad didn't originally like her very much and the feeling was mutual After harley came back to visit the first time he tried to threaten integrate her on why she came back what is she planning for his best friend, niece, and nephew how can he get her to leave?

Now vlad as a business man prides himself in being able to hide things from his opponents with a mask

So he's more then a little botherd when she casually lists off all his issues and the possible reasons behind these issues and bein 90% right

He only starts to semi trust her and see her as an ally/pawn is when she smacks down a bunch of goons joker sent to ambush jack after he tried to attack a upgraded crim alley with laughing gas and failed

I cant think of what would push them into being sort of friends but as a friend harley helps vlad through his more toxic traits

And when jack decides to date again she and him being both paranoid about relationships team up to make sure whoever is trying to woo their favorite himbo has honest intentions and isn't looking to use him

And she makes sure vlad doesn't try to make things up so they can cause a breakup

Because lets face it this vlad right here will probably hate the idea of jack trying to date someone purely because (in his eyes) its because of a relationship with Maddie that jack was pulled away from him in his time of need and became distanced enough to the point of misplaced resentment and hatred

So to him, jack dating = no more friendship

Thankfully harley, his frienenemy is there to pull him away from those thoughts before he does something that would actually ruin his friendship

Now, harlys nicknames for the Nightingale family!

Danny=little hyena

on account of his habit to bite dangerous people and ask questions later

Jazz=jazzy

I know its a bit lazy but I could just genuinely see her calling jazz this

Jack= Jackyboy

Again, a bit lazy but I'm honestly drawing a blank, so feel free to pop in with suggestions

Vlad= vamps (Dracula is the one she uses if he does somthing or gets out of control)

Red hood/jason

I have two

shrike

I feel like she could probably figure out his previous identity as robin and shriks are pretty brutal birds if she did

Plus I imagine they get off on the wrong foot due to her past relationship with the joker and I can see him threatening first chance he gets maybe somthing along the lines of "I'll throw you from the highest building I can find then shoot you before you hit the ground just befor you hit the ground if you hurt them"

So violent

And Red Gremlin

There's no reason it just fits

Sam=sqirt

Reasons

Tucker=mummy boy? Pharoah dude????.....

Hacky oh gosh that made me cringe. Maybe something like guru or techie? I know those are probably lazy but i seriously still got nothing (i dont remember the character that well)

DP X DC Prompt #45

Gotham has a new rouge. Except he only steals food and medical supplies in great quantities.

(Jack takes Danny and runs to Gotham after a Reveal gone Wrong where Maddie tries to kill Danny)

[hm-chan]

Week 8 reflection

What?

This week is also a prototyping week for me to work on. Since I finished my coaster paper prototype, I started work on the interactive website using Figma. I listed what function pages have to include.

Sign-in page

Home page

Forum page

User page

Q&A page

Background page

Interactive section

About me page

Reading/video page

The interactive section is the most challenging part to build up because I have to draw many graphics and let users experience and interact with the website. My mood board inspires the website style, a simple pattern with a shape of solid colour. Although this is what style I have thought for the coaster rather than the website after the conversation with the technical support in the fab lab. If I want to add colour to the coaster, I must draw the colour by myself, and I don’t feel confident enough to do such stuff. Also, the material I chose for the coasters looks better with no colour added so I will pick another design. 

I’m using the Kiwi bird design, like the coaster design for the website icon. The icon colour is now black, but I’m still trying other colours for the best-looking options. The black colour hasn't active my desired results. I have done the first design for the Sign-in page, Forum page, Q&A page, background page, reading/video page and kind of about me page. I’m rejoicing that I have made some progress this week, and I hope to finish the first design of the user page and the interactive selection by next week. I designed to combine the video and reading on one page, but during the making process, I realised this decision would make too much content on one page, so I needed extra time to solve this issue. The new design is both of them have their page. 

I named the website KiwiNibble. This name combines the idea of eating habits with the Kiwi bird's association, suggesting a cute and playful connection to both food and the bird. Should I make another logo of the KiwiNibble or only use the Kiwi bird design? I will see if I have extra time to work on it first. Finishing the website first is what I’m going to focus on next week. I still have to change the text style or the colour in the future because they still can look better.

So what?

This week's work made me realise I hadn’t thoroughly thought through my project and had enough time to learn the whole idea. I didn't know enough about all the design details in the Inspiration and Ideation phases, so the prototyping time was slower than expected. If I had a clearer idea of what I wanted to achieve a few weeks before, I could have saved time and used it to design another logo instead of agonising over what to do or not to do.

In addition, various obstacles keep appearing in the process: too much content is concentrated on one page, the lack of technology makes it impossible to achieve the initial required effect, and the original design does not give good results. It makes me less passionate and more agitated. I repeatedly asked myself if this was really what I wanted to achieve.

Overall, my lack of consideration seriously affected my planning and implementation. 

Now what?

I need to make a list of things I need to think about for the whole project so that I don't have to spend extra time thinking about it again because something is missing or I haven’t thought about it. In addition, I will list the problems I am likely to encounter and consider ways to deal with them in advance. Early risk assessment allows me to be better prepared for possible problems and avoid being too anxious.

Reference:

Gloria.Chan. (2023). DES 301. https://www.figma.com/file/8rZQILNUwspy1Nts5nNaYF/DES-301?type=design&node-id=0%3A1&mode=design&t=98rn8AGvNHFV7dx0-1

[nonbinary-morro]

Morrotober day 2: wind/using powers

aaa i had allota fun w this!! i hate working with ink but i think it turned out pretty ok :DD

((click for better quality please omg tumblr killed these images im begging))

((no reposts plz but reblogs are gr8tly appreciated :D))

first try of the second image under cut:

[citrineghost]

Struggling to stay organized because you have ADHD?

Well, I have a fantastic solution for you! There’s this bitchin site called Trello and I’m gonna tell you all about it

This is not sponsored, I just really like organization and Trello is awesome. And, as always, no readmore because this is targeted at ADHD people and y’all ain’t gonna click it

[ID: a picture of a website with many columns/lists. Behind the lists, there is a customized background. To the right is a sidebar showing that you can search Unsplash for backgrounds right from the site. Each column/list has a bunch of ‘cards’ on it. The cards each have a title and color coded label(s) /end ID)

Here’s a picture of my to-do board

There are some things blacked out, mostly just my avatar, name, and some original creative stuff I don’t feel like broadcasting.

So, Trello is broken up into different levels of organization. Let’s start with the most important level: boards.

Boards

A board is what’s pictured above. Think of it like a corkboard where you pin your notes. You can make as many of these as you want. You can title them, invite people to them, automate certain parts of them, and more.

On your board, you can make

Lists

Lists are those columns you can see on my board. You can title each list, click and drag them around to reorder them, set them to automatically label the things on them, and so on.

My lists on my to do board are titled with a time period for when I aim to do something. The time periods are large and vague, which makes them great for my ADHD. I can move things between them as I need, which is also great for my ever shifting brain thoughts. 

But! What makes it great is that whatever I put in the left list, titled Next, I know is what I need to be focusing on at the moment. It makes it easier to ignore what’s to the right of it and let’s me relax knowing I won’t just forget everything I’m not prioritizing.

Lists are used for holding

Cards

(ID: A picture of a small window that opens after clicking on a card. It contains the title, the labels (with their names now visible), and a functioning checklist. There is also a place to type a description, a place to add comments, and a list of buttons on the side for managing the card and its place on the board /end ID)

Each card can be as simple as containing just a title (making it a simple entry on your list), or as complicated as housing photos, descriptions, checklists, labels, and comments. You just click the card and it opens the window shown above.

My card is for a tabletop I’m working on, nicknamed TAP. I have it labeled with all of the things pertaining to what it involves (world building, writing, in progress, spreadsheeting, and art/creative). These color coded labels make it easy to see what kind of cards I’m looking at when looking at the overall board and lists.

As I do things on the checklist, I can mark them off. You can even set it to hide completed items on the checklist.

When I’m done with an item on my to do list, I click and drag the card to the Done list (which is offscreen on the far right). If you don’t want a visible Done list, you can also just archive a card and it will disappear from the board.

You can also set due dates on cards, which will notify you when they’re almost due or when the due date arrives.

Customization

One of my favorite things about Trello is that you can customize the appearance of your boards! My ADHD brain can’t stand looking at the same thing constantly, so it’s great that I can change things up. Each board can have its own design too, so you can match the vibes of the board with the appearance.

You can pick from a bunch of solid colors for your board or you can use the connection Trello has with Unsplash to search and select free stock images provided by photographers.

Other Parts of Organization

Not only do you have boards, lists, and cards, you can also make Workspaces, which are basically categories to sort your boards into. If you use Trello for projects, and have a board for each project, you can sort your boards into a Projects workspace.

There is also a function called Butler, which you can use to automate boards. For example, you can set it to automatically create a card called “Pay Rent” at the start of each month.

On the right, in the same sidebar where you can see the background options, there’s also an activity feed, tracking every time a card is moved, commented on, added, archived, and so on.

Team Work

Not only is Trello great for keeping private boards, you can also invite people to them! That makes it incredible for household management, group projects, or even friend groups who feel like storing plans and personalized memes. You can literally use it for whatever you want and in whatever way you want!

ADHD Applications

So, now let’s get down into the specifics of how this is great for people with ADHD.

You can make as many boards, lists, and cards as you want.

This is a big one for me, because I really struggle with websites that limit how much you can do with one account and force you to make multiples and then juggle multiple logins and so on. Start a new project? Make a new board. Follow your heart. Be free. If you end up giving up on it, just delete it, or store it for later. You can Star the boards you actively use and just use the Star list to access the boards you need, so if you star all your active ones and then ignore the unstarred, failed projects, you can leave them to rot or abandon them until the mood strikes again.

You can organize in a way that works for you.

So many organization applications are made to work one way and that can be really difficult to navigate as someone with ADHD. So many people with ADHD have such specific needs in regards to how they organize that it can be really hard to find something that works. Half the time we end up just scrambling around from application to application, cursing them as we go because one has one thing we like, but it doesn’t have the thing this other one has that we like and nothing ever seems to just work.

Trello makes it possible to personalize how you organize and even change how you organize halfway through. I keep my to do list organized in 4 priority levels with the addition of a Pin list and a Done list. You could also:

Keep a list that works as a calendar, with a card for each entry, organized in order of date

Keep a list of reminders where automated weekly/monthly/yearly responsibilities pop up

Jot down reminders as you think of them

Keep lists of school assignments in the order they’re due

Use descriptions and photo uploads on cards to collect information or resources needed for said assignments

Keep lists of information that’s easy to forget or lose track of on paper like address history, work history, references, contact information, and so on (like I’ve done on my ‘Pin’ list)

Use boards for projects, to keep track of things like resources, due dates, meeting times, sending files between classmates or project partners, and so on

Use boards for planning events like weddings, parties, conferences, school dances, or whatever else you’re into

Collect resources, references, or recreational to-dos (like links to fanfiction you want to read)

Literally anything

You can separate everything onto different boards, making everything visible from the titles of cards, or combine it all into one, with lots of information available on a click

The sky’s the limit

You can automate repeat tasks.

ADHD comes with a lot of forgetfulness when it comes to regular tasks, such as weekly appointments, medication reminders, and a yearly charge for your Nintendo membership. You can put that stuff into your calendar, but that can also be tricky because then you have information spread across multiple platforms.

Just as easily, you can set Butler to make new cards with reminders on them.

There’s probably more but I have ADHD and I forgot

Just think of the possibilities!!

I used to get debilitatingly stressed out because I would have 10 things floating around in my head because I was simultaneously trying not to forget them and also stressing about them and I would make what I call “spaghetti lists” where I would list all the things I’m thinking of, just as a way to calm down and know that I won’t forget them, so that my brain could quiet down.

Since starting this board, I haven’t had to do that once because all of the things I’m afraid of forgetting are already listed, even if they’re on the list titled ‘ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ‘ because idk if they’re ever actually gonna happen.

It can be incredibly stressful to see all of your to do items in one place, but since starting this, I have been less stressed overall, because I now know I can find them all in that one place. Learning to manage and cope with the stress of knowing I have a lot to do is easier than forgetting things and then realizing I’m late on something or things just never happening because I never remember them when I’m in a place where I can work on them.

And when you have everything in one place to reference when you have some executive energy, you can suddenly just start doing things. I have them labeled by type so I can go, “I’m in the mood to draw,” and then check all the dark blue labels for creative projects. It makes everything so much easier.

Anyway, I hope this is helpful to some of you, it’s genuinely been life changing for me

[lovelybarnes]

can you do a fic that’s like the ep’s “hit” and “run,” but it’s Y/N and Spencer’s child they have to save, and not JJ’s?

pairings: spencer reid x reader, platonic!bau x reader

warnings: mentions of getting shot, bank robbery, blood, kidnapping, worry, cm stuff.

about: requested! s7 e23-24 but spencer and y/n’s child is at risk (jemily is canon btw, will knows)

thank you so much for requesting! sorry it took me so long and it's going to have to be in two parts, since apparently it was too long lol, it'll be up as soon as i'm done editing it! (i also promise it gets better in the next part-) part two

-

the ticking clock on your wrist seemed to pulse with each move the arms made, each one notifying you that you were running a little later than before. when spencer rounded the corner to your mother’s house, you sighed in short relief, unbuckling your seat belt when he parked and getting out of the car to open the door to the back, smiling at your son in his booster seat. “hey, bug,” you whispered, undoing his seatbelt and pressing your lips to his head in a weak attempt to wake him up. spencer was taking things out of the trunk hurriedly, setting them down and walking to the door of the house, where your mother was already waiting.

you pulled your little boy into your arms, seeing as he wasn’t fully awake yet and would probably stumble over his feet if you set him down. you only hummed when his fingers twisted in your shirt, holding you close.

“hey, mom,” you greeted, giving her a kiss on the cheek. spencer’s hand rested on your lower back, the other adjusting emiliano’s hair.

“i’m sorry we’re so late, it was supposed to be a day off so yesterday we stayed up late, and emi wouldn’t wake up,” you said, your mom nodding as a response, "oh it's no problem, honey," she assured, stretching her arms out.

you kissed emiliano on the head again as a goodbye, smiling when he made a little noise and handed him to spencer, who pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before giving him to your mom. you waved goodbye to your son, heart stinging a bit from the disappointment that you weren’t going to spend the day with him like planned. “bye, mom! we’ll be back later, i love you!”

your mom sent you a goodbye you barely heard as you and spencer sped walked back to your car, driving to work late.

-

the ten minutes you were running late didn’t seem like such a big deal when you realized practically everyone else was behind schedule as well, although you couldn’t blame anyone, it was supposed to be your free day. spencer had even planned to go to a comic con with penelope, but he had only been able to start to get dressed before everyone got called in.

you and spencer were still in the car, examining the scene before getting out. outside, spencer planted a quick kiss on your lips, and you smiled, giving his hand a squeeze, then joining your team.

you stood between spencer and jj, greeting the others with a small nod and a smile before hotch began to list facts about the case. out of the corner of your eye, you noticed jj and emily’s hands tangling together, and a small smile sneaked onto your lips. your eyes flicked up to will’s face, realizing he had seen it too.

you looked back to hotch, who was still talking.

“... killed one person in each robbery.”

rossi voiced the question you had before you could, “m.o.?”

“single gunshot wound. each of the victims has bled out,” hotch explained and you all began walking towards the large vehicle housing penelope, sometimes cutting in with thoughts.

“serial killers with a thirty day cooling off period and we’re only just hearing about this now?” emily asked.

“headquarters identified them as robbers first and killers second,” hotch said, and you raised an eyebrow, “no one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies- especially in the span of seven months.”

“i agree; i disagreed with the original assessment, but i was overruled.”

you nodded, continuing to listen to what hotch was saying as you walked into the fbi rv.

“why haven’t we been able to id them off of surveillance footage?” derek asked.

“they hack the security feed and turn off the cameras. both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we’re allowed to watch.”

you squeezed penelope’s shoulder as a greeting, and she only smiled, blowing you a kiss as she continued to type.

you looked up at the screen showcasing the surveillance, running your eyes through the hostages. “they’re using the hostages as human shields,” you observed out loud.

“this is the first time they’ve been interrupted. what went wrong?” jj asked; the rest of the team voiced their thoughts until hotch gave everyone orders on what to do and where to go.

“jj, reid, and prentiss, look over past robberies, that’s going to be our victimology. pull another analyst if you need to. dave, handle negotiations, and morgan and l/n, strategize tactical options with mpd.”

you all nodded, and you squeezed spencer’s hand once more as a goodbye, walking out with derek.

-

you only had a few minutes to introduce yourself to mpd when a gunshot rang, making you flinch slightly and realize you would have even less time you thought.

“l/n?” a staticky voice you recognized as penelope interrupted your talk with the officer who was going to go in to help the injured bank robber, and you apologized as you pulled the intercom from your pocket.

“yeah, pen?”

“we got names. chris and oliver stratton. they’re brothers. oliver is the injured one”

“chris and oliver stratton," you repeated, "thank you, penny.”

“always, sweetie.”

you relayed the information to the officer with you and derek, who was currently loading up his weapon before reaching to put it in his pants. derek stopped him before he could, “no, no, no, no, i want you to put that in your bag.”

the officer paused, as if asking why, and you responded, “the woman’s probably going to want to search you,” you pushed the medical bag closer, watching as he put the weapon inside, “but chris is going to be too worried about his brother to delay long enough for her to check the bag, too.”

“alright.”

derek and you shared a look, “you’re going in to provide medical assistance, no unnecessary risks, hear me?” derek said, and the officer nodded.

“once you stabilize oliver, check on the hostage they just shot, he might still be alive,” you added. “understood,” officer green replied.

“do not draw your weapon unless you can subdue the unsubs without endangering the hostages,” derek told him, and green nodded again, zipping up the bag. “yes, sir.”

he began to walk over to the bank entrance, and you went over with rossi and hotch with derek; you stared at the screen with the surveillance, spotting the officer you’d just talked to walk in,

“shit,” you muttered, realizing the brother was probably going to die. “this isn’t good, hotch,” you said, and hotch didn’t reply.

“morgan, tell green to make a move before chris does.”

morgan touched his mic, pushing it closer to his lips, “green, you gotta go. green, go.”

you saw as he reached into his bag, pulling out his weapon in silence. chewing at your thumb, you froze when you saw chris reach for his own weapon, shooting green in the chest. you didn’t even have time to think over what just happened when chris shot him again in the head.

you could only blink and stare at green’s body lying lifeless on the floor, jaw clenched and hands shaking in frustration, trying to remain composed.

the next few minutes were a blur, swat was called and hotch and strauss argued about something you didn’t really pay attention to, “you okay, l/n?” derek asked and you nodded, “yeah. yeah, i’m fine, are you?”

derek only nodded, his attention taken away by rossi, who was waving him over.

“they called,” you realized, walking over to rossi.

“...i want an... armored truck and a plane with a cleared flight path to switzerland.”

a female voice cut in, “no, no, no. chad. we want to go to chad.”

“yeah,” chris said, “no agents with guns this time. we’ll fly ourselves.”

there was a click that indicated the conversation was over, and you swallowed hard, “i don’t think he’ll be happy she injected herself in like that.”

-

“these guys were too good to get caught. so, why did they?” rossi asked, and will, from next to you, answered, “911 received a call alerting them to a robbery in progress.”

penelope cut in from the screen in front of you, “actually, it was a text. dc added 911 messaging after the virginia tech students’ texts went unanswered during the massacre.”

“can you trace it, garcia?” hotch asked.

“yeah. that message was sent from a cell phone that is currently inside the bank that is registered to a… larry phillipis jr.”

will paused, “why does that name sound familiar?”

rossi was silent for a second, thinking, “that’s the name of one of the gunmen from the ‘97 north hollywood bank shootout in california.”

“so, is this an homage?” derek questioned, but no one was able to answer.

“guys, that message was sent thirty seconds before they blacked out the security feeds for entry.”

another voice offscreen that you recognized as strauss asked how that was possible, and derek answered, “it didn’t come from a hostage, it came from one of the robbers.”

you swallowed, “she wanted us here.”

-

jj and emily were back, and walking over to you and derek. “there’s no clear line of sight to the vault,” will noted, observing the map.

“no, but if we come in, that’s where they’ll go. we need to be ready for it,” derek stated, gazing up at the building.

“garcia caught us up. why instigate a hostage situation?” emily asked from next to you, and you shrugged, “what’s a narcissist without attention?” you answered, “she thrives on it.”

jj was looking around, “she must have something bigger in mind.”

you agreed silently, “well, we need to separate chris and the female to find out what that is.”

“it’s not going to be hard, they’re already on edge,” emily supposed.

rossi walked from the rv to the phone, taking your attention with him. you stared at him before noticing emily stepping over to him and leaving you to stay behind with derek, jj, and will. you all talked between each other, talking strategy and theories.

-

the next thing you knew, chris was asking for will, and jj was staring at will like he was crazy to even consider it. you were sat next to will, only listening to their conversation.

will was shaking his head, looking between jj and hotch before he turned to you. “i know you’d do it if you were me,” he told you, and you saw jj roll her eyes. “will, i get what you’re feeling, but you’re too close to this case to make this call.”

“you’re damn right i’m close,” will mumbled, “four people are dead because i shot his brother. and no one else needs to die because of what i did.”

you shook your head, “this isn’t about you.”

“risking your life won’t bring them back,” jj pointed out.

from in front of you, hotch sighed, “i’m sorry, will.”

you all stayed in silence for a while until emily walked in, a look on her face that made you sure the news she had wasn’t good. “he’s threatening to shoot more hostages until he has will.”

you sighed and will shook his head, standing up, “screw this, i’m going in.”

there was a panicked look across jj's features, mouth open to argue, but she didn't get to say anything. “no you’re not, we are,” hotch interjected.

-

in under three minutes, everyone was ready to go, vested up and anxiously waiting for the signal. you stood next to jj, biting your lip and staring at the map in your fingers, trying to strategize. you had barely looked up when you recognized will, walking towards the doors of the bank, seemingly unarmed with his hands raised. your eyes widened, lips mouthing an unheard no and you immediately turned to jj, who had barely seen him.

her mouth opened in a scream of protest, feet beginning to take off to try to stop him in any way she could, but derek had wrapped his arms around her chest, holding her back and off the ground, even as she fought against his arms. emily touched her arm in a useless attempt to calm her. you were frozen, only able to stand and stare and wait for the best that was probably not going to happen.

it was only three seconds that jj’s feet were on the ground, body trembling and eyes already rimmed red.

ten seconds passed by and three gunshots rang, loud and piercing and you pulled a hand to your lips, eyes following jj’s as she tried to run again, but you and derek pulled her back, letting her go when she planted her feet on the ground unsteadily, hand on her mouth.

-

you were all surrounding jj, apprehensive and waiting for her to blow up or scream.

“did you see where he was shot?” she asked finally, waiting for anyone to reply.

no one did, and after a moment of loud silence, she sniffed, her red brimmed eyes staring at penelope, “is he alive or dead, garcia?”

penelope stuttered, “i- i don’t know.”

“he was wearing a vest,” emily reassured, “he might be okay.”

jj scoffed, staring at her girlfriend, “might be,” she repeated bitterly.

one of the two missing from the group walked inside in a hurry, bad news no one needed from rossi’s mouth, “they’re not answering.”

jj stood up, shaking her head, “alright, we need to get inside.”

derek grabbed her arm gently, “it’s too risky, jj, we don’t have eyes inside anymore.”

jj’s eyes were wet as she looked up at hotch, pleading. “aaron...” she begged, and after a second, hotch nodded. “let’s go in.”

you all stood, walking outside.

-

not two minutes later, they called, just before you were about to go in.

“want to save the life of mister william lamontagne jr.? one medic that won’t pull the same shit the last one did, or else i’m killing them both.”

“we’re going in anyways,” derek pointed out, and emily nodded, “yeah, but the way we’re going in, it’s more likely the hostages and will won’t make it. if we send someone in, there’s a higher chance we can get them out.”

hotch was thinking, his forehead creasing as he stared at the paramedics. “we need an agent in there.”

“send me,” you said promptly, all eyes going on you. “i have medical training. i was an intern at the hospital before i decided i wanted to be a profiler. i can help him and i can take them down, hotch.”

“absolutely not- that would just be sending another agent in there for them to kill,” derek argued, but you ignored him, staring at hotch, “hotch.”

“l/n…”

“we don’t know how he’s doing, but chris just said we could send a medic in, i’m going to guess that isn’t a great sign. i can do it, i’m an agent, i’m capable, they haven’t seen me or heard my voice, i can fight well without a weapon, you know that.”

jj was staring at you, her fingers tangled with emily’s.

hotch was silent for a second, contemplating what you’d just said, “get your vest on,” he said finally, and you nodded, squeezing jj’s hand before putting said object on.

before going in, you grabbed morgan’s arm, pulling him aside. “i don’t know where spence is, and i’m really not sure what’s going on in there so, if anything happens-”

“y/n-”

“please.” you begged, and derek only nodded.

“if anything happens, my will is in my second drawer, tell him i love him and please don’t let him think it over too much.”

a voice that belonged to hotch interrupted you, “l/n!”

“i’m gonna be okay, tell him that. tell everyone that, okay?” you asked, and derek nodded,

you took a deep breath before walking over to hotch and grabbing your medical bag, double checking you had everything.

hotch had stood in the tent, behind you, only watching you from afar while you pulled on your vest straps, tightening it around your chest. you put on another shirt over it, leaving it invisible to anyone who wasn't looking close enough. you had smiled at hotch before beginning to leave, one of his hands wrapping around your arm and pulling you still.

“hey,” he said softly, “be careful.” you nodded, “yeah. of course.”

his hand loosened, and you sighed, walking away and towards the dreaded bank, arms up and medical bag hanging off your fingers.

the moment your fingers touched the door handle, you could just feel something was wrong, but you couldn’t risk anything- especially will and the hostage’s lives just because of a feeling.

so you pulled the door open, and stepped into the bank, eyes searching for will, who confirmed your bad feeling because he was sitting up, someone putting pressure on his wounds.

“what-”

“get inside! right now unless you want both him and you to die!”

-

you should’ve known it was a trap, you should’ve just listened to hotch and derek and stayed put, but you didn’t and now it was probable you were going to die.

will was fine, for the most part, he had a bullet wound to his shoulder, but he was up, talking to one of the hostages. you set your medical bag down, observing chris.

the woman had gone somewhere else, and you took the time she wasn’t there to try to communicate with her partner.

“chris,” you started, walking over to him. his gun was quickly raised at you, and you slowed to a stop, raising your hands. “i’m unarmed, as you requested, i’m just a medic.”

his hold on the gun wavered but it didn’t lower, “what?” he demanded, and you swallowed.

“you can’t trust her- the woman. she’s taking orders from someone else.”

chris shook his head, “she’s taking orders from me.”

you shrugged, “chris, take a look around you. when this place is stormed- and it will be stormed, they are going to take all the bad guys, but right, now, i only see one.”

chris looked away from you, and you heard will walk up behind you, “she’s setting you up to take the fall for this, boy.”

chris peered at him, “that’s not true.” he stated, “and how would you know?” he snapped, eyes staring back at yours, “aren’t you just a medic?”

you nodded, “they told me. the feds- they told me they found evidence of that. you can’t trust her.”

the answer seemed to please chris, and he shook his head again, “that’s not true,” he repeated, and you shrugged, trying to act natural, “then where is she?” you asked. chris pointed to his right, “she’s back there.”

you heard will hum from beside you, “huh.”

chris got up all of the sudden, pointing the gun at you and will. “alright, you both, come here. i’ll show you.”

you and will exchanged a look, and he gazed behind you at something you couldn’t see.

“go on,” chris urged, and you began to walk with will, almost falling when chris pushed your shoulder harshly.

you and will were ushered into one of the rooms of the bank, where a few black duffel bags were discarded on the floor. you dismissed them, too busy with the sensation of a barrel of a gun pressed against your back. the woman stepped out of a door, eyebrow raised as she studied at you.

“what the hell are you doing down here?” chris asked, pushing you and will aside to point his gun at the woman.

“calm down,” the woman responded calmly, “you’ll find out soon enough.”

chris didn't like her answer, shaking the gun, “tell me.” he demanded, and a sour look passed by the woman’s face.

what happened next was a blur. the woman muttered something to chris and he picked up the duffel bags, ushering you and will outside. you dropped the bracelet emiliano had made for you outside of the door- in the hope that someone of your team would find it- before you were pushed into the backseat of a car.

on the road, you looked around, trying to figure out where you were and making sure will was okay, while the woman- who you heard chris call izzy- played the recording of the bank on a loop in front of you. you pried your eyes away from the screen, instead trying to form a plan in your head.

“what the hell is that? you recorded it?” chris asked, but izzy didn’t look up, too preoccupied with the images on her tablet.

“i’m talking to you, izzy!” chris said, “you planned this whole thing,” he thought out loud, looking back at the road, “you didn’t tell us any of it, you set us up.”

izzy wasn’t paying any attention to him, but chris continued to talk, “you killed my brother.”

at this, izzy responded, but she still didn’t look at him, the gun in her other hand still pointed at you, “no, that would be him.” she stated, bored.

chris eyed at you and will from the rearview mirror. “how do i know they aren’t your partners?”

izzy watched you, “why would i work with them?” she questioned, and chris was getting increasingly frustrated, “why would you do any of this?”

izzy took her eyes off yours to turn to chris, who glanced at her. “fbi said you got somebody else.”

izzy smiled, “you sound jealous.”

chris raised a gun to her, “who is it?”

izzy rolled her eyes in response, “put that away. this isn’t about revenge, it’s about survival.”

a confused look passed over chris’ face, and izzy continued, “if you haven’t figured it out yet, i’m your only way out of this mess.”

chris moved the gun from her to will, “alright, let me kill them so we can get on with it.”

izzy shook her head, eyes drifting back to the tablet, “we need them.”

“why?”

izzy’s was now distracted by the video, replying distractedly. “leverage. we need to fix him up.”

“and how do you propose you do that?”

izzy shrugged, pointing at you, “she can do it.”

you shook your head, “i can’t, i don’t have my medical bag. and even if i did, i don’t have what i need to do anything.”

izzy was attentive at this, and she gave instructions to chris, driving to an unknown destination.

-

shit, you thought, staring at the outside of your window when the car pulled up to a fire department. you flinched when chris opened the door to your side and pulled you out, a gun held against your back. izzy did the same to will, standing behind the ambulance door and demanding the medic to fix will.

you were shoved to the wall, a gun against the side of your chest and a promise you would die if you moved whispered in your ear while will was getting fixed up. you only heard a gunshot when you were back in the car with will and chris, and you shared a look with will, fingers curling around the cushion of the car in frustration.

-

izzy was taking a call, the voice from the other line muffled, and you couldn’t make out who it was or what they were saying.

she gave a location when she hung up, but chris locked his jaw and rounded the corner harshly, parking the car.

“i’m not going anywhere until you tell me the plan,” chris declared, and within a second, izzy had moved the gun from you to chris, shooting him twice.

you flinched at the loud noise, looking from chris to izzy. “what are you doing?” will asked, and izzy shrugged, “he talks too much.”

“go ahead officer, get him out,” she ordered. “and do what, just leave him there?” will asked.

“yes please.”

she turned to you before will got out. “if you move an inch, i will kill him.”

you only nodded, staring at her as she motioned will to leave the car.

when chris was out, writhing on the floor, she glared at you. “you’re driving. get out.”

i can leave, but i can’t leave will here and she’ll shoot me for sure if i run. will can’t fight her right now. without a safe option, you agreed, eyeing will as he entered the backseat again, and you climbed where chris resided, only able to stare as izzy hastily cleaned the blood off the seat.

when you were inside, hands on the wheel, she pointed a gun at will, “go ahead. drive.”

so you did.

-

you stopped where she told you, watching in the rearview mirror as the hostage will had been talking to climbed in, patting will on the back. “hey will. you see that?”

“i want to do it again,” izzy smiled, watching the man- matthew as izzy referred to him. “we will,” he assured.

izzy turned back to you, “drive. you know the way.”

you glared at her, unmoving. she frowned, shoving the gun into your ribs, “drive,” she hissed. when you still didn’t react, she squeezed will’s gunshot wound, pushing the barrel on the side of his head. “or he dies.”

“drive,” matthew stated simply, and at the sight of izzy’s finger dancing around the trigger, you did.

-

you could only tighten the grip you had on the steering wheel when you parked in front of your mother’s house, already spotting her playing with emiliano on the lawn.

izzy was staring at you, admiring the frustration on your features, “come on, medic,” she urged, pointing the weapon at you again before putting it in her bag.

you opened the door of the car and walked out, forcing a smile on your face when izzy leaned up to your ear, “you better play nice, or i’ll kill them all.”

you picked up your son when he saw you and squealed, his little arms wrapping around you. you kissed his forehead, “hey bug, i gotta talk to grandma, how about you go back to playing?”

“okay, momma,” emiliano nodded, and you put him down, watching as he ran over to one of the play houses you brought for him.

“hey honey, what are you doing here? i thought you and spencer were supposed to come later?” your mom questioned, her eyes scanning over izzy.

“have you been watching the news?” you queried, and she shook her head, “i heard what happened on the radio, is spencer still working?”

you nodded, “yeah, i wanted you to go with molly because of everything that was going on.”

“are you sure? i can stay,” your mom assured, and you shook your head. “no, no, it’s dangerous right now, and i trust molly.”

your mom looked back at izzy, asking a question with her eyes. “this is izzy, one of the detectives, she’s going to watch over emi.”

“okay, are you sure?” she asked again, and you nodded, relieved you had set up a safe word with her and that she had remembered. she only glanced back at you and emi before she got into her car, “call me for anything.”

you didn’t respond, calling your son, “c’mon, emi, let’s go inside.”

emiliano skipped ahead, running into the house, past you and izzy, who had been surprisingly quiet.

you turned back to her quickly, “if you touch him, i will kill you,” you promised, and izzy didn’t flinch. “if you touch me, he kills will, then a certain spencer reid, then you. you wanna leave your kid an orphan? be my guest.”

you clenched your jaw, glaring at izzy until emiliano ran up to you, tugging on your arm.

“momma, can we watch a movie?”

you took a deep breath and crouched down to him, offering your son a smile as you shook your head, “i can’t, not right now, bug, i have to work, so you’re going to stay with izzy and play with her for now, okay?”

emiliano nodded, and you kissed his head, assuring yourself you would not lose him, and he wouldn’t lose you. “i love you, bug, daddy and i will see you soon.”

emiliano smiled at you and planted a kiss on your cheek, giving you one more squeeze before you straightened up, staring at izzy for a second.

you walked out, hands trembling as you climbed back into the car, wanting more than anything to run back inside and take your son to his father, where you knew he'd be safe. but it wasn't an option right now. because right now, you had to leave your baby with a serial killer and you had to go sit in the car with another one.

[kjack89]

E studying late in the library, R as the late-night security guard

The only sound that came from the far corner of the second floor of the library was the steady, and occasionally emphatic, clacking of laptop keys as Enjolras hunched over his laptop. He only paused to grab a sip of coffee or swipe a notification from Twitter off of his phone screen, and as the time crept past midnight, he showed no sign of slowing down.

At least, he showed no sign until, without warning, the lights turned off.

Enjolras looked up, his face lit only by his laptop screen. “Hello?” he called, but no one answered. “Is anyone there?”

Again, there was no answer, and Enjolras glanced at first the time on his phone screen and then at the document he was working on, which was no closer to being done than it had been when he had started working on it some two hours prior, and he groaned. “God damnit,” he sighed, standing up and grabbing his phone and, after only a moment of hesitation, his coffee.

He made his way to the stairs, guided by the dim glow of the exit sign. Luckily, the lights were on in the stairwell, and Enjolras made his way to the ground floor. The lights were also off on the first floor, and Enjolras scowled before catching sight of a light from an office behind the circulation desk.

Enjolras stalked over and rapped his knuckles against the desk. “Hello?” he called, peering into the office. There was a man in there, lounging in his chair, and Enjolras raised his voice. “Excuse me?” The man did not look up and Enjolras scowled in irritation before practically bellowing, “Excuse me!”

The man startled upright, blinking owlishly through the window at Enjolras before standing and making his way to the office door. “Can I help you?” he asked mildly, which caused Enjolras’s blood pressure to skyrocket.

“Someone turned the lights off,” he said stiffly.

The man raised one dark eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “On the second floor,” he said. “Someone turned the lights off.”

Leaning casually against the doorway and crossing his arms in front of his chest – Enjolras tried not to stare at how his t-shirt stretched across his chest as he did – the man then had the audacity to smile at him. “I’m sure they did.”

“Right,” Enjolras said, tearing his eyes away from the tattoo on the man’s bicep. “Only, I’m trying to get some work done and that normally requires, y’know, light.”

The man nodded. “One might think.”

Enjolras counted to five in his head to try and stop from yelling. “Are you going to turn the lights back on?”

The man tugged at the collar of his university t-shirt as he considered it. “No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m not going to turn the lights back on.”

Enjolras stared at him, his mouth hanging open, before drawing himself up to glare at him. “And why the hell not?” he demanded.

The man shrugged. “Library closed at midnight.”

Enjolras blinked. “Since when?”

“Since we’re operating under summer break hours,” the man told him, sounding far too amused, and Enjolras scowled again.

“It’s May.”

The man smiled lazily at him. “Your grasp of the calendar year notwithstanding, the semester’s over, so the library is no longer open 24/7.”

Enjolras tried very hard not to seethe. “So you’re kicking me out.”

The man shrugged again. “I mean, I’m not gonna bodily remove you from the building or something, but yeah, I am gonna ask you nicely to leave, and if you refuse, I’ll probably have to call campus security.”

Enjolras’s brow furrowed. “You’re not campus security?”

“I’m library security,” the man corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?” Enjolras asked sourly.

“Slightly less fascist,” the man said cheerfully, and Enjolras almost smiled. Keyword being almost. “Also I’m a student, and mostly I’m here to make sure folks swipe their IDs when they come in and to stop folks from walking out with books they haven’t checked out.”

Enjolras cocked his head. “And what’s the punishment for that?”

“Normally me escorting them to the checkout counter so that they can check them out.”

Enjolras huffed a dry laugh. “I’m not getting the vibe that you have a lot of authority here.”

The man chuckled. “That’s because I don’t.” He hesitated before adding, “My name’s Grantaire. And you are…?”

“Not sharing my name to prevent you from sharing it with campus security,” Enjolras replied coolly.

Grantaire grinned. “That’s a mouthful, your parents must’ve really hated you.”

Enjolras smiled slightly as well. “I mean, they did, but not for that reason.”

Grantaire took a step towards him. “If I promise not to report you, will you tell me your name?”

“How about you turn the lights on the second floor back on?” Enjolras countered.

“They’re on a timer, and I don’t have the means of overriding it, so unless you want me to stand up there holding my flashlight up for you to read by…”

Enjolras smirked. “Now that is a tempting thought.”

Grantaire gave him what Enjolras imagined he thought of as a pleading look. “C’mon, tell your name. I can go through the records of ID swipes, but I’d really rather not have to take that kind of time.”

“Why do you want to know my name so badly?” Enjolras asked.

“Because I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing a lot of you this summer,” Grantaire said archly. “Besides, I like to know the name of the cute guy I’ve been flirting with for the last fifteen minutes.”

Enjolras opened his mouth to scoff, or to tell him that this wasn’t flirting, or to do any number of things to rebuff the implication, but instead, what came out was, “Enjolras.”

Grantaire blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“My name is Enjolras.”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire repeated, a slow smile crossing his face. “Wow, your parents really did hate you.”

“Almost as much as yours,” Enjolras shot back, “naming you Grantaire.”

Grantaire laughed. “Like you said, mine did too, but not because of the name.” He hesitated. “Why don’t you work down here?”

Enjolras blinked. “What?”

“I can’t turn the lights back on upstairs, and the only lights are going to be in stairwells or around emergency exits, or here, at my desk. As comfortable as I imagine studying in the stairwell would be, I’m pretty sure I can rustle up another chair for you.”

The offer took him by surprise, and Enjolras hesitated, trying to find a good reason not to and coming up short. “Are you going to watch TV all night?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Maybe. But I can put some headphones on if it’ll bother you.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you sort of need to pay attention to the security of the building?”

“Yes, because I’m sure all of the students who have gone home for the summer are planning to break into the library,” Grantaire said dryly.

Enjolras laughed lightly. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Grantaire perked up. “So is that a yes?”

Enjolras hesitated for only a moment more before jerking a nod. “Let me grab my stuff.”

Grantaire grinned. I’ll be here.”

“I’m sure you will,” Enjolras muttered, turning around to grab his things from upstairs. He knew that he should just go home, or maybe move to Starbucks or the student union, both of which he was pretty sure were still open 24/7.

But if he was being honest, he was mostly just working to have something to do while he waited for Combeferre and Courfeyrac to get back to campus. And besides, whether or not it was flirting, if Enjolras was being entirely honest, he hadn’t entirely hated the conversation he’d had with Grantaire.

Even if Grantaire was two steps away from being a fascist cop.

His mind made up, Enjolras gathering his belongings and made his way back to the circulation desk, letting himself behind the desk and joining Grantaire back in the office, where, true to his word, Grantaire had procured another chair. “Voila,” Grantaire said, grinning up at him, and Enjolras set his stuff down on the desk, glancing at the computer screen, which was paused on an advertisement.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

Grantaire glanced at the computer as if he’d completely forgotten he was watching anything. “Oh, uh, Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

“Seriously?” Enjolras demanded.

“Yeah, well, it’s quite popular—”

Enjolras snorted. “Sure, it’s copaganda repackaged into a sitcom, what’s not to love?”

Grantaire whistled lowly. “Wow, you must be fun at parties.”

“I make it my business not to attend too many parties,” Enjolras retorted.

Grantaire looked amused. “I’m not entirely sure that’s the comeback you think it is.”

Enjolras had realized the same thing, and flushed slightly. “Seriously, though, don’t you understand what role shows like Brooklyn Nine-Nine or Law & Order or—”

“Or Chicago PD or NCIS or CSI when it was still airing,” Grantaire continued, nodding officiously.

Enjolras glared at him. “My point,” he said icily, “is that these shows have engendered in the American public a tacit complicity in the ever-expanding and increasing militarization of our police.”

Grantaire nodded. “They sure do.”

“You agree with me?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. “That surprises you?”

Enjolras shrugged. “I mean, I was expecting even boilerplate pushback about how it’s ‘just a show’ or something like that.”

“Entertainment is as much a reflection of society as it is a tool to shape it,” Grantaire said, propping his feet up on the desk. “Only an idiot would argue against that.”

“And I’m meant to believe you’re no idiot,” Enjolras said dryly. “So then are you just...ok with the militarization of our police?”

Grantaire sighed. “Of course not.”

“Ok, so you acknowledge the role shows like this play, and you are against said role, but you’re watching it anyway?”

Grantaire considered it for a moment. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he said cheerfully.

Enjolras stared at him. “But...why?”

“Because I believe you can critically engage with the media you consume while also, y’know, consuming it,” Grantaire said. “Besides, it’s funny.” Enjolras shook his head slowly but Grantaire didn’t let him speak, instead patting the seat next to him invitingly. “Look, you and I can and probably will argue about this all night, but how about you sit for it? I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

“Really?” Grantaire asked mildly. “I would think you of all people would be more in favor of an egalitarian seating arrangement.”

Even though Enjolras glared at him, he nonetheless sat down. “Fine,” he said stiffly. “But don’t think that this conversation is done.”

Grantaire grinned at him. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I’ve got all night. Are you going somewhere?”

This time, Enjolras didn’t hesitate. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Finding Him

AU!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping/taken, angst, mentions/implications of rape, mentions of blood, gruesome I think, maybe. (If I need more warnings, I’ll add them. Not sure what I need for warnings right now) I would recommend to being at least 18 to be safe.

Summary: Dean doesn’t come home from a supply run. Sam and the Reader find the Impala, but no Dean. Who would take Dean? Why? Clock’s ticking.

Word count: 2,400-ish

a/n: Inspired by a fic called Lost by @talesmaniac89​, only I switched the roles and the whole premise of the story in comparison.

Finding Him Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

~

His vision blackened by the dark hood that covered his head.

“See boss, I found him, one of the Winchester boys.” A male voice says. As if he were expecting a prize.

“Yes, I see that, you were also to get his little brother you nitwit!” another man shouted.

Dean could hear growls in the distance. Meaning he was dealing with more than just one monster. Also, what kind of monster?

“But doing this draws out his brother. Once he is out and about, I’ll get him.”

“You better, but watch out for his mate. I hear she’s feisty.”

Y/N, they knew her as well. But she was only with the brothers for, not even, 6 months now.

“Why again are we doing this? Why don’t we just swarm their base now? I mean, we can use his scent to lead us there.” A female voice was heard this time. She sounded rather annoyed by the whole situation.

“Because, it’s her I want.”

“Why?”

“She’s a half-breed. First of our kind. Her mother was human. They say half-breeds are weaker than their pure bred counterpart. But I beg to fucking differ!” the boss man got furious at a memory.

Y/N’s a what? Dean thought. He could only huff against the gag in his mouth that was tapped in by duct tape. His hands were bound by all kinds of bindings. Rope, tape and even chains. These werewolves took precautions to prevent Dean from escaping or fighting back.

Y/N must have done something to piss this guy off. He thought.

“Just bring the other Winchester, Lure this bitch out. I want her now!”

 “Sam, I found the impala but no Dean.” She said into the phone.

“Store clerk said no one was following him in the store. So it must have happened outside of the store on the way home.”

“I don’t like this Sam, who would take him and why?”

“I don’t know. Come swing by, pick me up and I’ll drive Dean’s baby home.”

“Sure thing, then we’ll get hunting for your brother.”

She hung up the phone. She could smell it. It’s faint but it’s werewolf. Maybe it’s time to come clean about her lineage to Sam. It might help in finding Dean.

 “So you’re a half breed. Half human, half werewolf? How’s that possible?” Sam asked. Not a hint of malice in his words, no hint of anger or hostility in his body language.

“My mom was human. My dad was an alpha werewolf. But my mom died giving birth to me. I never really had a mother. But there’s this other pack, my dad went rogue on them when they started killing humans. He’d kill his own members to save humans.” She explained.

“Your dad sounds like a good man.”

“He was. Then his alpha found us. Tried to take me. He fought back. Or, tried to. I managed to get away. But in the woods I could smell my dad’s blood. He kill him. I’m more than sure, he’s the one that took Dean. He’s trying to lure me out.”

“He really shouldn’t underestimate the Winchester way of doing things.”

“What do you have in mind, I do see those wheels in your head turning?” she asked.

“We’ll need Cas’s help. I’ll even see if Bobby or any of the apocalypse hunters are up for some fuckery.”

She smiled, what does this guy have in mind, must be awesome.

 Weeks pass.

Sure he’d feed Dean, give him water even. But the alpha has a plan. And it’s not a great one.

He’s building an army.

“It’s my daughter, Alpha. She’s presenting, and I feel she is suitable for bearing a half breed.” Said a woman behind the door.

“Once she is fully presented, we’ll put him to work. And soon she will bear a half breed. Because if that bitch won’t come to me, we’ll come to her, with an army to boot.”

Dean swallowed thickly.

Already several scared girls had come in, he was forced to impregnate these girls. In hopes of making werewolves just like y/n.

He’s not dumb, half breeds are not as weak as people or other monster claim them to be. Because of their human counterparts, they don’t give up.

“How many have we made so far boss?” the same wolf that kidnapped Dean asked.

“9. Nine half breeds. And 5 of us. Two omegas, one beta, and two alphas. The half breeds don’t even need to present. That’s the thing we need to research further.”

“I’m sure our doctors in the sandy hills would love to look at them, and this girl of yours.”

“I’m sure. But, she’s mine. Mine to tame, mine alone. I’ll make an omega out of her.”

“You want to see what offspring you and her would produce?” he asked. Seeing his masterplan now.

“We need an army. Those British hunters already got the drop on us and have killed most of ours. But now, with us being mostly half breeds. We’ll see how much of a match we are to them.”

“Impervious to silver. But they’ll die like any normal human.”

“Maybe so. But we’ll train them in combat. We will win this.”

His comrade nodded.

 A low growl could be heard from y/n as she paced the library.

“Weeks Sam, it has been weeks. We need to find him.”

“I know, Bobby’s trying to round up everyone.”

“I can feel them doing something to him, it’s not good. We need to hurry.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t describe it without making you feel uncomfortable. But it’s not good. Let’s just put it at that.”

Sam’s phone rang. Caller ID, Bobby.

“Hey, Bobby, whatchyou got?”

“Sam, bring your girl and come to our hide out. It’s getting bad out there.”

“Bad, bad how?”

“We’re out numbered. The amount of werewolves is growing. More than what we can keep up with.”

“Okay, we’ll pack what we can and meet you out there.”

Sam hung up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Their numbers are growing.”

“I told you it was bad.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s making an army of half breeds. Like me. And he’s using Dean to help in that process.”

“You mean, he’s forcing these wolf girls to rape my brother?” Sam asks, growing sickened and angry.

“Yes. Which is why we need to hurry. Let’s just go where we need to go. I’ll tell you what we can do to win.”

 “Great, not only are you like a human, but impervious to silver. So our bullets and knives won’t kill you.” One of the male apocalypse hunters fumed.

“So how do we kill them?” Meg asks.

“Just like how you’d kill any human. An ordinary weapon. But don’t injure them. Or Don’t waste time on the kill. They…we can heal quickly.”

“You have to have some kind of weakness.” Bobby says.

“Well, we’re not totally impervious to silver. I learned that the hard way from you hunters.” She says. “Just before I met Sam and Dean, I ran into a hunter. He learned of what I was. And tried to kill me. His silver blade slashed my arm. I had this nasty looking infection. But really it was poison.”

“Dean brought you back, and we healed you up.” Sam added. She nodded with a sad smile.

“That’s why you didn’t tell us. You were afraid we’d do that to you.” Sam says. She cast her gaze to her feet, fiddling her hands at her waistline. She felt Sam’s hand at her cheek. Coaxing her to look up at him.

“You had our backs, you saved Dean from shifters and wendigos. You saved me from vamps and werewolves. Cas from angels. Hell, even our own mother from a number of monsters. We wouldn’t have hurt you darlin’.”

“When he saved me, Dean. I imprinted on him.”

“How’d you…”

“I’m not sure. He felt safe. I felt safe. It was after he saved me, I’ve been able to feel what he feels. Know exactly where he was. Or is. Some say imprinting anyone, a wolf or human, is done by sex. But we didn’t do anything. He just held me. Safe in his arms.” She explained.

“Could be that. Could be a soul thing.” Bobby says. “Soulmates.”

Sam and Y/N nodded.

A moment passed. Y/N shook her head out of her thoughts.

“We need to get Dean back before the Alpha kills him. When he deems Dean no longer useful. I can, feel him. He does feel far. But I’m sure I can find him.”

“Well, let’s do this. Bobby, you, and the hunters try to get their numbers down. Kill as many as you can. Y/N and I will get Dean out of there. Then after—”

“I’m killing that Alpha, once and for all. More lives are in danger with him alive.” She growled.

Sam could only nod.

 A shot rang out.

“All the guards outside are half breeds. Aim for the head.” She ordered the hunters that came along.

Shot after shot rang out.

She took in their scent. They weren’t that old, freshly presented. She stared at them in confusion. Half breeds don’t present. Unless a certain gene allows them to present or not enough research went into half breeds.

“Sam, you and I we need to move in. now.” She ordered. Sam nodded.

“Keep them from entering.” She told the hunters.

“Sam, let’s go!”

And they ran their way inside.

 “Get the human!” the alpha ordered.

Dean, looking a bit rough from weeks and weeks of rough sex, little food and water and no sleep. The wolf picked him up by the collar, Dean grunted against the motion as his hands were bound behind his back since the day they brought him in here. His wrists have been cut up and bloodied from his struggles.

“I’d be happy to rip his heart out for ya boss.” He sneered.

“NO!” The alpha shouted.

The wolf shuddered.

“He’s mine.”

He threw Dean at the Alpha’s side.

Dean landed on his side with a hard thud and grunt. He was too weak to play the tough guy. Too weak to give a witty comeback.

He just laid there, waiting for his death.

 Sam, preoccupied by other wolves in the warehouse as Y/N walked into the Alpha’s Domaine. His den, his ‘Throne Room’. He stood on a balcony meant for loading large machinery. It had no railing on one side.

She could smell his blood. Causing a growl to emerge deep within her chest. Her fists clench so hard she could draw blood.

“There she is.” The alpha growled.

“Here I am. Do you want to end this or should I?” she asked. Glaring down at him.

“You dare talk like that to your Alpha?” he growled.

“You are not my alpha, I’m no one’s alpha. You are a murderer.”

“Now, I’d beg to differ on that. You killed your own kind.”

“I have two kinds. Human and wolf. Humans seem a lot better than you.”

He growled at her remark.

“You mean, like this human!” he pulls Dean up by the collar. His sheer strength alone allowed him to hold Dean in the air, hanging him by his collar. He hung him over the ledge with no railing. Intending on letting him either hang to his death or drop him.

Her heart dropped.

Dean kicked, trying to get free. He began gagging for air.

“He’s weak, just like your father was. Your father was infatuated with a human and it weakened him. He was my right hand man!” he shouted.

She tried to keep a good poker face going. But Dean’s eyes began to roll as he was loosing more and more air.

“You are just like him. Infatuated with a human.”

“Let him go.” She says. Demanding.

The Alpha cocked his head, cocking an eyebrow, smirking. Oh, she thinks she’s going to have it easy. He thought.

“Please, I’ll turn myself over to you willingly. But you have to let him go. Alive!” she demanded.

“Hmm, such a tempting offer.” The Alpha says playfully. “But, no. I think I’ll pass.” He says.

He repositions Dean so he could easily wrap his hand around his throat. She could tell he was squeezing the life out of him, he kicked furiously, desperately trying to get free.

I hope this will work. She thought.

She darts, climbing up a stack of crates leading up to the platform.

She managed to get on the platform without him noticing. She could see the color to Dean’s face changing. His eyes rolling.

A fire burned in her eyes. He’s not going to take him from her.

With her claws now drawn, she forces her hand through the Alpha’s back and through his chest.

He can see what looks like silver nails on her claws.

The impact causes him to drop Dean.

He drops on to his back with a hard thud.

The Alpha gags as the poison from the polish is coursing through his veins.

“You really should have taken the deal.” She says. Pulling her hand from his back the Alpha drops dead with a thud. On the concrete ground below.

“Dean!” she gasps. Seeing him not moving.

She rushes to him, cutting him free. She brings her ear to his mouth. He’s not breathing.

“No, no, no. Dean, please.” She begs.

She works him over her shoulder as she get’s him to a more flat surface.

“Dean!” she heard Sam shout.

She laid Dean flat on his back and began doing chest compressions.

“Sam, Bobby, we need to get him help.” She begs as she worked on him.

“Cas!” Sam prays out loud. “Cas, if you hear me please, we need you to save him!”

“Cas!” she adds on. “Please, I can’t lose him!”

“Sam, Y/N.” Cas says behind her.

“Cas, help him.” She begs. Her eyes blurring with tears.

“I will try.” He says.

He places two fingers to his forehead. Only to see limited injuries healed. But Dean took in a deep, much needed, breath.

Cas falls back, weakened.

“I do not have enough grace to heal him completely. My grace has been depleting lately. Once I am fully regenerated, I’ll heal him again.” Cas says.

“Thanks Cas, it’s something.” Y/N says. “Let’s get him home.”

 ~

Part 2

What’d you think? Want more? Let me know either by ask or reblog. Remember, feedback is fuel.

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @jayankles​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @akshi8278​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 2/8/2021

[chuuulip]

The First Kiss of Love

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female Reader

Warning:  Fluff with a smidges of angst

Words: 3262

Prompt: hey i was wondering id you could do a hannibal lecter one where the reader doesnt realize that hannibal likes her and she gets jealous when hes talking to another woman. when she calls him out on it he cant help but laugh. the reader is basically a oblivious dummy type and way too much of a klutz .

Summary: “Dr. Bloom is really beautiful.” your small, joyless voice continues its sentence. “Ah...yes indeed.” Hannibal replies casually.

A.N: This is for an anon that request some Hannibal fanfic. I’m sorry that it takes me so long xD I hope you like it! whoever you are ❤️ Thank you for @jewels2876​​ for helping me with this piece, love you ❤️ Also tagging fellow Hannibal fans 😉 @venusdemonroe​​​ and @detectivehannibal​​​ thanks for feeding me Hannibal content and discuss him with me ❤️

__

It’s been a couple of months since you’ve worked with Dr. Lecter. You were once a librarian; due to an accident, you lost your job as a consequence of a long time recovery.  Hannibal Lecter literally was an angel or your angel to be precise. Vividly, you remember the time you met him. By chance, Hannibal is in the clinic when you do your physiotherapy. He catches a small stack of books that you buy that day. He manages to balance the books in his left hand while his right-hand catches you before your face kisses the floor.

Long story short, both of you have some sort of conversation that leads to you applying for a job to be Hannibal’s secretary. You are excited but also nervous when you do your interview. You have no idea that Hannibal is a well-known psychiatrist not only just in Baltimore but also in Maryland. There is a fear that Hannibal will not choose you because of your clumsy tendencies. You are naturally what people will call a klutz. Physical activity somewhat hinders your ability to shine among others. You are either too slow or too weak. Not to mention lucky stars seem to distance themself from you. But not that day, the day when you get an email of your employment. Hannibal is pretty impressed with your CV and how good your skills on scheduling and data management, 

“Good morning.” the soft, accented voice of Hannibal greets you. Today, he wears a dark blue windowpane pattern jacket suit. He chooses a somewhat dark metallic floral pattern adorning the red-brown tie. His white buttoned-up shirt makes the color of his suit and ties pop. Hannibal always dresses elegantly, something that you always look forward to seeing.  

“Good morning, Dr. Lecter.” You stand up and follow Hannibal inside his office. He takes a seat on his brown leather chair. Everything looks immaculate as always.

“Schedule for today?” he unbuttons his suit jacket and you quickly help him hang the suit. “Thank you, my dear, you didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s alright Dr. Lecter.”

Sometimes when it’s only you and Hannibal in the office, he accidentally calls you my dear. You aren’t sure if it's because that’s the way he usually addresses someone he is in contact on a daily basis, or it means something more? Oh, you wish.

“Dr. Lecter…, for this morning you will have two appointments. Mrs. Potter and Ms. Randall. Also-- Mr. Franklin said he might need to reschedule.” Your slightly breathy voice points out other appointments Hannibal has outside the office. Your work had become kind of a blend between his secretary and personal assistant, to be honest. It was actually Hannibal's idea to engage you more into work that’s not strictly his office related. Not that you are complaining because it let you take a peek on Hannibal’s other persona. Not to mention that the payment is pretty generous. 

Not once does Hannibal ask your input on what type of thing should be added in his office, and by that, you are pretty proud of yourself. Not a lot of people give any thought about your opinion. Although Hannibal, like when his office has this sleek look and somewhat minimalist style, he always mixes something that you could say was classic inside his office. You have been inside his office quite a lot, but sometimes you help him tidy up his books and document. He’s somewhat more of a hard copy type of person than a soft copy one. Like you. You like the smells of an old book although some of Hannibal’s books smell too clinical for you. Like the smells of a hospital or a place with a lot of disinfectants.  

Pretty proud of your experience as a librarian in the past, and knowing Hannibal is a perfectionist himself, you practically turned the side of his office into a perfect mini library. The medical record shorts are alphabetically arranged while his other books are listed by genre, then in an alphabetical manner as well. When Hannibal stays longer in the office, sometimes you catch him drawing. A hobby that he said he has since childhood. One day he told you, “Growing up, I found my hobby really useful when I decided to be a medical doctor.” and you can’t help but agree. After he finishes with what he sketches at that time, he specifically calls you into his office and shows you the final product. That action simply makes your heart flutter in excitement.

“Thank you, you can leave for now.” He gives you his subtle yet beautiful smile. Those eyes of his when he smiles always send some sort of quick rush to your brain.

Giving Hannibal a short nod, you quickly excuse yourself. You stumble upon your own shoe and almost fall, face first. Luckily you can prevent that from happening, hoping Hannibal doesn’t notice, although you think he did. Scurrying from his office, you station yourself on your spot. Continue typing and archiving what Hannibal asks you. 

Sipping your now cold latte, your eyes shift to the books next to your PC. It’s a book called Les Fleurs du mal renaissance, a volume about French poetry that Hannibal had lent you after you finish some short of psychology 101. You have read a few pages of it, and since it’s in French, it takes you some time to understand it. 

Sometimes Hannibal invites you to his office to let you read his book while he draws things. Trying not to get caught red-handed, you glance at him from the corner of your eyes, savoring the scene in front of you. Wondering what Hannibal actually does on his day off, is there anything he can’t do? Your brain likes to take a detour on what Hannibal does at home when he’s not seeing other people’s minds.

A soft clink of steps on the mahogany floor wood, momentary pauses your fingers on the keyboard. 

“Good morning Mrs. Potter.” you stand up immediately. Greet her with a polite, shy smile. One of the things you are still learning from working with Hannibal is being confident. Since the secretary is usually portrayed as bold and beautiful, while you on the other hand are quite the opposite, Hannibal makes sure you take your time to adapt from ‘less contact with people at work’ to ‘in contact with different people almost every day.’

“I’m here for my appointment.” her British accent tickles your ear. It’s rare for you to meet a Brit, especially as posh as Mrs. Potter. Although you never glance at a patient’s medical record, you do actually google them. When you find out Hannibal’s reputation, you know that most of his patients are a somewhat well-known person. Mrs. Potter is an owner of exquisite but limited jewelry store on the east coast. From several articles that you read, she has had quite a lot of scandal. Despite that, you will not deny her beauty. She may be quite older than you, but the way her cheekbones stay supple and very few wrinkles decorating her face sometimes makes you jealous. 

“Yes, sure. Please wait a moment,” immediately, you walk to Hannibal's office door that's just a foot away from your desk. Giving a soft knock, you open the door and inform Hannibal that Mrs. Potter is already here. He gives you a quick nod, and you open the door wider, to let Mrs. Potter start her session. 

Hannibal isn’t a strict boss. Or that’s actually what you thought about him. Of course, you are a professional employee as you can be, but sometimes you spend time reading the book you borrow from Hannibal between your desk job. Mostly because you already do whatever Hannibal tasks you with. On some occasions, you join Hannibal when he attends some appointments, such as when he needs to be a keynote speaker in a well-known conference around Maryland and DC. An experience that you guess is his way to widen your social ability. 

“Thank you Mrs. Potter. I’ll see you in the next session.” Hannibal’s accent cues you to stand up and bid your goodbye to Mrs. Potter. The rest of the day comes out like it usually is. Typing and arranging schedules for Hannibal while also scrolling on another book to read. Even though you were a librarian before, there’s just so many books and so little time to read. 

When it’s time for you to go home, you knock on Hannibal’s office door and open it slightly when he answers you with a soft, “come on in”. You excuse yourself while also giving Hannibal’s friend a smile. Although Hannibal doesn’t have a lot of appointments today, his friend, Jack Crawford visits the office and you know that means Hannibal will stay late until dinner time.   

*** 

The next day your work finished earlier than you thought so you spend some time at work to continue reading the poetry book. Some people may find it weird that you like to stay a little bit longer at work than going back home. There’s always this thought of knowing there is someone close to you, without the need to do conversations in every millisecond, calming. When your eyes shift to your gold bronze table clock, you haven’t realized that you are pretty late, as the sky already turns dark. 

You know Hannibal is still in the office and you plan to excuse yourself before it’s getting really late. You don’t want Hannibal to drive you back home since you feel embarrassed about it. He always makes sure you arrive at home safely when you spend more time at the office or going home pretty late since Baltimore isn’t the safest place on earth. However, there is always a thought in your head that Hannibal being a little bit protective towards you, his employee because you are just a much of a klutz and he feels responsible. 

You aren’t sure what possessed you to move too quickly and it just messes up your footing. The point of your left oxford shoes hit the castor office chair. Ungracefully you trip to the floor and bring the chair with you. The falling chair let out a loud bang while you landed on your hands and knees, grimacing in pain. 

You aren’t sure when but your brain kind of mid freeze for a second. When you look up, you see Hannibal crouching down and calling your name, worried, “-- are you ok? Can you stand up?”

“I--I’m ok Dr. Lecter,” you try to stand up but you hold up your right hand in a sign of I need a minute. 

Hannibal takes care of the office chair first, putting it back in its original position. He carefully lifts you up, supporting you and letting you sit back on your office chair. “I’m sorry my dear, but I need to check?” He asks you for your permission and you quickly give him your approval. With an expert examination of his hands, Hannibal checks your knees for any swelling or visual deformity. Since your past accident, you are prone to any joint and soreness on the knees. Delicately, he gives a little pat on both your knees. “I think everything is ok, you may need to have some pain killers.”

“Thank you Hannibal.” you blurt it out. Sometimes you call him by his first name when you aren’t in office hours, although rarely.

He graces you with that smile of his, subtle yet it always makes your heart quiver, the kind of smile you infrequently see. You notice that sometimes he has his professional smile, it is short and kind of cold. The smile you always notice when he meets his colleague. You don’t know a lot of Hannibal’s friends, but when he has some impromptu meeting with Jack, you slightly witness more smirk and sometimes there’s this naughty element like he is planning something evil, although humorously.

“Wait a minute, I will drive you home.” Hannibal left you to go inside his office. 

There’s a guilt in your stomach that you feel you are being a burden to your boss. When your concentration dispersed like vivid smoke, the corner of your eyes caught the beautiful woman you have seen a couple of times visiting the office. Unlike other women who mostly visit Hannibal for a session, this woman is indeed different. 

“Ms. Bloom.” You greet her. Your smile may look blankly courteous even, but you definitely are not in the mood to give her your big smile this evening.

“You look unwell, are you ok?” 

“I-- I’m ok.” you try to answer her, less tense.

“Alana?” your eyes shift to Hannibal as he opens his door.

“Hey, Hannibal. I try to call you but I thought I might as well just drop by.”

Hannibal’s eyes divert from you to Alana, and he gives Alana a quick nod, letting her quickly enter the office. “It will be quick. Can you wait for a while?” you give him a nod and smile at him nervously.

At first you aren’t sure why you are nervous but something finally clear on your head. Maybe you are jealous. You know a lot of women near Hannibal are not only beautiful, or rich, they are also acutely intelligent. Although you aren’t rich, you aren’t that bad looking and you will not say you aren’t intelligent but when you compare yourself to someone like Alana, there will always be inferiority engraved in your mind. Not to mention that she has known Hannibal longer and better than you.

Hannibal's office door opens and Alana exits the door with Hannibal following her. “I heard what happened to you from Hannibal.” Alana stops in front of your desk and gives you her sympathetic smile. “Get well soon.” She gives you a pat on your shoulder and says her goodbye to you and Hannibal.

“Shall we?” Hannibal changes his focus towards you and you nod in agreement. Let him help you out of the office. 

***

“So…,”

“So?” Hannibal glances at you momentarily while driving, asking you to continue what you have in mind.

“Dr. Bloom is really beautiful.” your small, joyless voice continues its sentence.

“Ah...yes indeed,” Hannibal replies casually. 

Your eyes glance at the dark street. Hannibal’s office is located in a quite busy place and it’s nice to see less traffic when you get out of the area. 

“Did both of you date?” you blurt it out. Your eyes widen in horrors as you blatantly just spill out something unprofessional. “Hanni-- Dr. Lecter, I-- I-- didn’t mean to pry on your personal life.” 

Hannibal looks at you and lets out a laugh. Something really rare, something that you even have witnessed. The crinkle on his eyes when he laughs lets his somewhat cool and calm demeanor melted. It takes you sometimes to register on what just happens. 

“I’m sorry my dear, that’s just quite funny.” Hannibal stops laughing and sends you a quick smile.

“Also that might not answer your question but the answer is no, Alana and I, we aren’t dating. I’m her mentor and our relationship is more of colleagues and friends.”    

You aren’t sure why you hold your breath, but after listening to Hannibal's answer, you let out a long exhale, feeling that something heavy has been lifted up from your shoulders. 

Hannibal’s Bentley stops in front of your apartment complex. Ever the gentleman that he is, Hannibal asks you if you need help. You decline his help as if you can’t embarrass yourself enough in one day. 

“Before you go, I have something to tell you.” Like a deer caught in a headlight, you look at Hannibal. He switches on the light inside the car and pulls his bag from the backseat. He handed you several papers that looked likely to be a job application. Your eyes widen, vision blurry as a sudden tears drop from your eyes. This is it, maybe Hannibal has enough of your clumsiness. He doesn’t find you worthy as he sometimes needs to ‘babysit you’ when you do something you don’t intend to do. 

Feeling that he may be approaching this the wrong way, Hannibal tries to comfort you. You put both of your hands in front of your chest, like a shield in a defensive manner. Try to accommodate his tall frame, awkwardly Hannibal turns his body to the passenger seat and embraces you. He shushing you and pat your heads 

When your silent cry turns into a hiccup but more calmer, Hannibal pulls away from you. With a stutter, you explain to Hannibal that you understand if he doesn’t want you to work with him again and you are thankful that he’s been a very great employer to you. 

“Hey,” Hannibal swipes the tears that rolls down on your cheeks with his thumbs, “--it’s not that. Look, my dear, the reason I handed this paper to you is not that I want to fire you, but I have been pretty impatient lately.”

You look at him, eyes full of question on what the fuck he means by that? Although you don’t let it out loud because you don’t want to make any rude comment. Because Hannibal doesn’t like that.

“I’m one of those people who do not agree with office romance.” 

Office? Romance? What the hell? No one has any romance in the office, you thought. 

“I have been pretty much intent to court you,” his eyes flicker to your lips and back to your reddish eyes. “Alana came today because she wants to give me the application personally, there’s a librarian vacancy in her University and I pretty much just want to hand it to you.” Your brain wiring, try to connect the words as if you forgot how to speak English.  

“Apologize if I’m being rude my dear, but I have observed you for some time and I encourage myself to just lay it all here so I didn’t make you upset. Of course, if I am proven wrong, you can stay and still work as my secretary. No harm, the position will always be yours.” 

“Hanni-- Hannibal, does this mean that you like ‘like’ me?” 

He answers you with a quick nod and the smile that always makes your heart flutter. You try to reach Hannibal but your knee prevents you from doing such a thing. Hannibal let out a small chuckle as he finds your difficulty quite amusing. 

You eye him in disbelief but your anger melts right away as his face gets closer to yours. His right hand's cup at the side of your face as his lips inches closer towards you. With eyes close, you feel the brushes of Hannibal’s lips. The kiss is soft and delicate as if he is just testing the water. 

You let your hands sneak at the back of his collar as you seek more contact. Both of your lips slide and glide against each other. Letting out a whimper, you grant Hannibal’s tongue to slip past your lips. Teasing and flicking languidly, exploring something that makes you shudders in want. 

After some time, Hannibal withdraws his lips from yours. Eyes fluttering open, you can see Hannibal’s pupils expand. He let his foreheads rest at yours while his hand still cups on your face. “So...I believe it is a 'yes''?” There's humor in his voice. 

With a broad smile and less reddish eyes, you answer Hannibal with a confident nod and grant him another kiss on the lips.

__

As always, like, comment and reblog are really appreciated ❤️. Let me know what you think about this xo

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Tik Tok - A Haven Sequel

F/M Pairing: Chan x OC (original female character)

Genre: Have Sequel; Enemies to Lovers

Warnings: Explicit Smut (unprotected sex) and Language

Word Count: 4.6K

Summary: Chan would do anything for his adopted family, and maybe that’s cost him a chance or two at finding love for himself. However, when the convenience store hires a strong, independent young woman to act as assistant manager, Chan finds himself in competition with someone who is very much like him - he’s just too stubborn to admit it.

A/N: This is another anon request that I spent way too long writing.

There was only so much more that Chan could take before he inevitably fell over the metaphorical edge. It wasn’t helping that work had become a source of unrestrained anxiety and frustration for him, but he definitely didn’t need to be a victim to one of Hyunjin and Jisung’s increasingly frequent pranks. And when Chan woke-up one morning with a strange stirring in his abdomen, he was shocked to find his hand in a warm glass of water while the two miscreants in question observed him from the side of his bed.

“I told you it wouldn’t work!” Hyunjin whined.

Meanwhile, Jisung was shaking his head in disbelief. “Chan, you were supposed to piss the bed!”

Chan rolled his eyes, shaking off the accumulated water droplets from his hand before glaring at Hyunjin and Jisung. “Get the hell out of my room,” he grumbled, and the two younger members had enough common sense to obey the eldest when he was in a foul mood.

Chan sighed as he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, attempting to do something with the messy curls laying limply on top of this head. It might be a while before he ever bleached his hair again because the sorry state of his scalp was no laughing matter. Yet, Chan eventually found himself giving up on making his hair look presentable, proceeding downstairs to offer a grumpy greeting to Minho, Sara, and Changbin who were reading something from the newspaper.

“Bad mood again?” Minho inquired while stuffing his mouth with more cereal.

“No thanks to anyone in this house,” Chan responded, and he found himself even more irritated when he looked over to see Sara giggling when Changbin whispered something into her ear. “I’m sure everyone would like to hear what’s so damn funny,” Chan said, and Changbin and Sara both immediately averted their gazes.

Meanwhile, Minho was studying him with that stupid look of his that only served to encourage Chan’s quick exit from the kitchen before he blew-up on his members. Honestly, his persistent mood changes weren’t really the fault of anyone he lived with in the house. In fact, the real source of his frayed nerves was the red-headed bitch who the convenience store had just hired as an assistant manager.

Chan had a certain order to how he ran the store, and Lisa was determined to ruin everything. She refused to obey his strict ordinances - often flaunting a change to his regular routine as if she found it humorous. It was like she was going out of her way to make Chan as miserable as possible, and he was slowly losing the battle with his patience.

Perhaps that’s why Chan was dreading the prospect of work, and when he pulled into the parking lot outside of the convenience store, he sent a silent prayer up to anyone who was listening that he might survive the afternoon.

But his mood only worsened from the second he walked through the door, and Lisa spotted him from behind the counter. “Morning, Satan,” she greeted him with a chipper tone that Chan despised.

“I’m supposed to teach you the cash register today,” Chan grumbled, and he threw on his apron before joining Lisa at the front.

“Well, this should be fun,” she remarked. “I guess you’re planning on making it harder than it needs to be.”

Chan frowned at the comment because Lisa had told on numerous occasions that he was far too strict with the store’s management. But that’s how Chan had always been taught to conduct his affairs - with a stern hand and a detailed explanation since all the little details were critical. It’s how he ran the house with the others, ensuring that the budget was maintained and that everyone was always contributing. “You might treat everything with indifference,” Chan said. “But I care a lot about this place.”

It was the first job he ever had, and Chan owed a lot to the owners who agreed to take a chance on a young man who had no experience to offer them. Overtime, Chan had proven himself more than capable, and he would like to keep things in order like he preferred. “Whatever,” Lisa said while smacking her chewing gum

Which Chan had told her repeatedly was improper.

“Listen carefully,” Chan said, and he inputted his employee ID before grabbing a few items around the register. “I’ll start with a demonstration.”

“Great,” Lisa said with an exaggerated sigh that Chan chose to ignore as he meticulously explained the various types of ways in which a customer might try to pay for their purchases. 

“Credit or debit,” Chan reiterated. “They might also try paying with cash or a check, and you have to make sure that it’s legal tender.”

“Ugh,” Lisa groaned. “Do me a favor, Chan, and skip the lecture where you explain the history of counterfeiting.”

Chan immediately tensed at the sharp jab, but he took a deep breath to steel his nerves before he ensured that Lisa understood what every button on the register controlled. “Our clientele expect quick service,” Chan said. “You can’t spend all day trying to figure out how to open the drawer.”

“Oh, really?” Lisa asked, and she raised an eyebrow in question as she reached over to press the button in question without even looking. “It’s not that hard.”

“Yes,” Chan hissed as he slapped her hand away. “I can’t expect anything less from you! I suppose you think this whole job is a big joke and you can do whatever the hell you want?”

“When did I say that?” Lisa countered. “I respect the position, and if there’s a problem with the store, then it’s you.”

Chan froze at the accusation, and he imagined that someone might be inclined to draw flames above his head because the comment was nothing short of incendiary. “I’m the problem?!”

“That’s what I said,” Lisa replied. “You take everything too seriously, Chan. I’ve spoken to the other employees, and they’re all afraid of messing up because you expect perfection.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything!” Lisa exclaimed. “Most of these kids are working here part-time to help get themselves through school. You act like this place is a damn computer software company!”

“There’s nothing bad about taking pride in my work,” Chan said.

“I never said that,” Lisa returned. “But you take your work to the extreme, and it really makes it hard to come in every morning just to here you complain that there aren’t exactly twelve cups next to the slush machine!”

But Chan was flabbergasted - he had never seen anyone stand up to him like this and express such vile contempt. He was just trying to make everything better! Why was that so difficult for her to see?

“We’re supposed to be professional,” Chan finally muttered. “I’ll be in the back office.”

“Okay, but have fun micromanaging everyone,” Lisa said, and Chan started counting down from ten inside his head before he really lost his shit.

It was late when Chan returned home, and he was feeling drained from his horrible day at work. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, he rested his head against the steering wheel for just a moment to collect his thoughts. His mind was a chaotic engine of latent rage directed at Lisa, but he didn’t want to take it out on anyone inside the house.

And when he felt like he had better control over his emotions, he put on a forced smile and greeted Jisung and Hyunjin who were both sitting in the living room. “Yo, Chan,” Jisung said, and he was jabbing at the buttons on his Xbox controller. “You look pissed.”

“Just a bad day at work,” Chan said, and he lifted his head when he started smelling something spicy. “Is someone cooking?”

“Y/N and Minho were supposed to make dinner,” Jisung said.

“I think they just made a mess,” Hyunjin added, and he laughed at the pained expression on Chan’s face.

“Oh, great,” Chan muttered, and he knew to prepare himself when he walked into the kitchen to greet a cloud of smoke.

“Channie!” Y/N yelled, standing at the stove and mixing some sort of sauce in a giant pan. “I’m making your favorite.”

“I can see that,” Chan said while withholding a sigh - his kitchen was a disaster, and Minho wasn’t washing the dirty dishes fast enough before new ones piled up on the counter.

“Excuse the mess,” Y/N said as if realizing that Chan was not pleased by what she had done.

“Y/N,” Chan groaned - looking around the disaster zone that she had made of their dishes. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Both Y/N and Minho looked up at the same time - surprised to hear Chan’s bitter tone. “What do you mean?” Y/N asked. “You were coming home late so I thought I could make dinner.”

“Yeah, but look at this fucking mess,” Chan cursed, and Y/N flinched because Chan never cursed very much.

“I’m sorry, Chan,” she whispered. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“You never do it right!” Chan found himself snapping at Y/N who instantly cowered behind Minho who had come to stand between his girlfriend and Chan.

“Hey!” Minho growled, and he was suddenly crowding Chan against the wall. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Get off,” Chan grunted, and he shoved harshly at Minho’s shoulders. “I don’t need this right now!”

“Is that right?” Minho asked. “You think I shouldn’t say anything when you come home and act like the world’s biggest asshole?”

“You’re just making everything worse,” Chan retorted.

“No!” Minho shouted. “You’re the one who made this into a problem! We’ve been working for hours getting this together, and you have no right to come home and accuse us of anything.”

“Are you blind?” Chan snapped. “The kitchen is a war zone!”

“It can always be cleaned,” Minho said, and he turned around to look at Y/N while softening his tone. “Go upstairs, baby, this isn’t your fault.”

Y/N nodded once before cautiously tiptoeing backwards in the direction of the side door, and Minho waited until she was gone before returning his attention to Chan. “What’s going on with you, Chan? You’ve been rude to everyone these past few weeks.”

Chan closed his eyes as he swallowed down his pride and bruised ego because he knew that Minho was right. “I know,” he said. “There’s been a lot going on at work, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Figure it out, Chan,” Minho said - blunt as always. “You can’t let this affect everyone else.”

Chan knew that Minho was right, but he had never felt so conflicted.

During his next shift, Chan was determined to control his undesirable tendencies and assume a far more lenient attitude with the rest of his employees. 

“You’re doing fine,” Chan said, even though he was screaming on the inside while watching an employee attempt to stack one of the produce windows.

The young man offered him a sincere smile to express his gratitude, and Chan took that as affirmation that he could return to Lisa’s side as she restocked the candy section. “You’re in a good mood,” she remarked while offering him a look of suspicion,

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Chan asked while crossing his arms over his chest - a move that was meant to keep him from reaching out to straighten the price tags.

“Well, there’s been like a thousand violations of your unspoken rules,” Lisa remarked. “That new guy even broke the coffee machine.”

“His paycheck next week should suffice to repair the damages,” Chan said through gritted teeth - an unexpected chink in his armor. 

But Lisa caught it nonetheless, and she smirked while indicating to the display she was working on. “Do you have something to say about my section?”

“Of course not,” Chan exhaled.

“What about the expiration dates,” she said before leaning in closer. “I didn’t even check them”

Chan grimaced, and he could feel the beginnings of his patience unraveling. “It’s fine, Lisa.”

“Really?” she asked. “Would it bother you if I left the labels backwards?”

“No,” Chan muttered. “But it might be better if they were facing the customer.”

“Should they be alphabetical as well?”

Oh, that was the last straw! Chan was done with this whole good guy act, and he didn’t need Minho or anyone else to tell him how he should act towards the people who were supposed to be working under him! “I’ve fucking had enough!” Chan exclaimed, and he reached out for Lisa’s hand and started pulling her in the direction of the backroom.

“What’s this all about?” she asked, but there was an airiness to her tone that told Chan that she still wasn’t taking things seriously!

He locked the door behind them and corralled Lisa against the wall - to the point where their noses were brushing. “Do you take some sort of sick satisfaction in pissing me off?”

“Maybe I like you this way,” Lisa said, and Chan was startled when she reached out to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “This is a good look on you, Chan.”

“What?” he questioned, but he didn’t pull away because there was something strangely hypnotic about her eyes. 

“I’m really attracted to you,” she whispered, and the sound was spoken directly into his ear. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Lisa-”

But Chan was interrupted by the unexpected pressure of her lips against his - wiping all coherent thoughts out of his mind.

“I think you might want to talk less, Mr. Bang,” Lisa purred, and Chan clenched his jaw to strengthen his resolve.

“Get on your knees,” he growled, and Lisa closed her eyes around a moan before pushing back against his chest - allowing her enough room to drop down on the floor while her hands started working apart his belt. 

“I’ve been wanting this since our first day together,” Lisa said, and Chan braced himself against the wall when she took out his cock from his boxer shorts - running her hand up and down his length. “You’re really big, Chan.”

“Yeah?” Chan grunted, and he could barely hold himself together when her lips wrapped themselves around the tip of his erection. 

He watched through a haze of lust as she took him deeper - hollowing her cheeks while bobbing her head along his cock. It was the last thing Chan could’ve ever imagined, but he was experiencing so much pleasure from her warm mouth. 

“Is it good?” Lisa asked - pulling off for a moment to ask the question while exploring the slit of his cock where pre-cum was already forming.

“Keep going,” Chan replied, and dug his fingers into her crimson-colored hair to ensure that she took him as far as she could. “Is this what it takes to shut you up?” Chan snarled, forcing more of his cock down her throat.

Lisa moaned around him, and Chan almost came from the vibrations that jostled his sensitive erection. “Take off your jeans,” Chan said, managing the words around a rather loud moan that he couldn’t seem to prevent.

But Lisa obeyed him at once, shimmying down her skinny jeans while sucking on his cock and using her tongue to trace the underside. “Stand up, slut,” Chan ordered, and he was pleased by Lisa’s willing compliance as she walked over to a nearby desk - spreading her legs wide when he walked between the gap. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Lisa nodded her head, glancing back over her shoulder to give him her best sultry look. “I know you’re angry with me, Chan, and I deserve whatever you give me.”

Chan was delighted by the words, and he didn’t hesitate to push his cock inside her welcoming heat, grinding his hips against her ass just to feel her convulsing around him. “Where was this obedience before?” Chan asked, pulling out to just the tip before forcing himself back inside with as much strength as he could manage.

Lisa gasped when her hips slammed against the edge of her desk - whimpering around the discomfort. But Chan had no intentions of stopping, and he held onto her waist as he started ramming himself into her pussy with the weight of his frustrations adding to his power. It was hot and passionate, and the sounds of their fucking echoed throughout the backroom while Lisa’s moans provided the perfect melody.

“Come inside,” Lisa said, and Chan cursed.

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yeah,” she gasped, and Chan knew better than to leave her unattended, even if she might deserve it, so he allowed one hand to leave her hip and play with her clit in teasing circles.

“Come with me,” Chan said, and he pressed down even harder while nailing himself between her walls one last time before the entire world exploded around him.

There was a blurriness around the edges of his vision, and Chan was gasping for breath while Lisa hummed in content from beneath him.

When Chan woke-up the following morning, he wasn’t sure what to think of the unexpected encounter he had with Lisa from the previous afternoon. For the remainder of his shift, he had avoided Lisa as much as possible while carrying the weight of his guilty conscious. Because he couldn’t help but think that he had taken things too far, and their work relationship would suffer as a consequence.

Chan glanced at the clock on his nightstand and knew that he couldn’t delay the inevitable any further. But at least Chan could afford enough pride and apologize to Lisa? Perhaps she would forgive him, and they could forget about everything that had happened and move on with their lives.

But maybe Chan’s optimism was misplaced because Lisa gave him a dark look when he met her at the counter. “Oh, hey,” Chan said, and he winced when his voice broke.

“So...” Lisa trailed off, looking at him with an intense gaze. “Yesterday was something.”

“Uh, yeah,” Chan said, and he allowed an awkward laugh as he messed with the cash register. 

“You don’t regret it, do you?” Lisa asked, and this was Chan’s opportunity to fall on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. Because she was surely upset with Chan for his behavior. Yet, when Chan forced himself to look at her, he was surprised to see that she held no resentment.

“I don’t know,” Chan decided. “I guess I’m confused.”

“Confused?” Lisa repeated with a playful smile. “Chan, we had sex, there’s nothing to be confused about.”

“Shhh,” Chan hissed, looking around the room to see if anyone had overheard them. 

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked with a laugh. “Chan, you were fantastic. I wish we had done that earlier.”

“R-really?” Chan stuttered, and he hesitated when Lisa leaned into his weight.

“I loved it,” she told him. “I’ve never been with someone like you before.”

Chan was surely blushing, and he could feel the heat scalding his ears. “Lisa, I don’t usually act like that.”

“Oh, I know,” Lisa said, and her fingers trailed down the buttons on his shirt. “It was refreshing, Chan, to see you so aggressive. I could get used to that.”

Her words did something peculiar to his arousal, and he found himself feeling more comfortable around her. “You mean, it’s better than how I usually am.”

“There’s really nothing wrong with your little ticks,” Lisa said. “I think you could afford to loosen up every once in a while.”

“I see,” Chan said, and he reached out for her waist. “Are you the person who can help me relax?”

“If that’s what you want, baby,” Lisa said, and Chan couldn’t stand it anymore - reaching for her hand to bring them both back to that same backroom where everything had collapsed around them.

His lips were on hers instantly, and Chan moaned when their tongues started to move between them. “Come here,” Chan growled low in his throat, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

Lisa allowed him to handle her with a sigh of pleasure, and she opened up for him like a beautiful flower - something gorgeous to behold. Chan had never experienced these feelings with anyone else, and he was certain that he had lost every bit of oxygen in his lungs when they finally pulled away from their heated session for more air.

“Woah!” 

They both jumped apart at the sound of their co-workers voice, and he held up his hands in surrender while his gaze moved between Chan and Lisa with clear surprise. “Josh,” Chan said, and his voice had a much higher-pitch than usual.

“I’m sorry,” Josh said. “I didn’t realize-”

“It’s okay,” Chan interrupted, and he backed away from Lisa with a heavy breath. “I need to check on the shipment.”

He was gone without waiting for Josh’s response, but there was a small voice at the back of his head that told Chan he needed to figure this thing out between him and Lisa before the situation escalated.

Still, he couldn’t really explain his decision, but Chan found himself standing outside of Minho’s bedroom that night with his hand raised to knock. Of course, it was one thing to think about something, and another to actually put those thoughts into action. Consequently, Chan was desperately searching for the courage to reach out - literally - and ask Minho for help.

Thankfully, his internal debate was terminated when the door suddenly opened and Minho flinched in surprise when he saw Chan. “Were you just standing out here?” Minho asked, and Chan took a deep breath.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure,” Minho said, and he stood back to allow Chan enough room to walk inside.

“It’s something kinda personal,” Chan said, and he was grateful that Han and Felix weren’t there because it was already awkward enough opening up to Minho.

“You can sit down,” Minho said, and Chan joined the younger on his bed while messing with the loose fabric of his work jeans. “Is something wrong?”

“it’s more like...someone,” Chan said.

“Oh?” Minho frowned. “The same person who’s been bothering you at work?”

“How did you-” But Chan trailed off at the end of his sentence and decided not to question Minho.

He was unusually astute for his age.

“I figured it out,” Minho still answered him. “Did you want to talk about this person?”

“Yeah, but’s complicated.”

“Why?”

Chan grunted at the question because he didn’t really know why things had gotten so complicated. “I thought there was a mutual hatred, but I think I read everything wrong.”

“Something changed your mind,” Minho said, and Chan slowly nodded.

“We had sex.”

“Woah!” Minho laughed, and he threw up his hands like he wasn’t quite ready to just jump into this part of the story. “All of a sudden?”

“She got on my nerves.”

“So, you thought that sex would fix everything?”

“I don’t know,” Chan groaned, and he collapsed backwards on the mattress. “But she said that she really liked me.”

“Did she give any indication of that before?”

“No,” Chan replied. “But she was always messing with me. She liked to ruin the way I ran the store, and she tried to change everything.

“Damn,” Minho finally remarked. “I admire any woman who has the guts to stand up to you.”

“What do you mean?” Chan asked, and he supported himself against his hands as he glared at Minho.

“Don’t take it personally,” Minho said. “But you’re a bit of a control-freak, Chan.”

“Are you sure?” Chan asked, and it was a dumb question because Minho rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been living with you for years, dude. I’m bound to notice these things.”

“Well, I don’t mean to act that way,” Chan said, and Minho sighed and patted his shoulder.

“The first step is admitting your wrong-doings, my friend.”

“But what am I supposed to do about Lisa?”

“Oh, is that her name?”

Chan groaned in frustration because nothing was going the way he expected. “It feels awkward.”

“Then, you have to talk to her,” Minho said - like it could really be that simple.

“It’s awkward,” Chan repeated with a pointed glare.

“And there’s only one way to fix the awkward,” Minho replied. “Seriously, Chan? Don’t make this into something bigger than it needs to be.”

Chan knew that Minho was right (because he was really good at helping others with their problems), but he was still afraid. He was scared that talking to Lisa would bring up complicated feelings that he’s never had to deal with before, and what was he supposed to do, then? Feelings weren’t something that his careful rules could control, and he didn’t like it when things happened without him realizing. But he was also frightened by the idea of ruining something because of his own shortcomings, and maybe it was time that he made the effort for someone else.

And Lisa was certainly worth more than all the consequences.

Chan was a complete mess of nervous energy when he started his shift on a bright, promising Saturday afternoon. He diligently cleaned down the counters, and ensured that the register was online before shifting back and forth between his feet as he stared at the entrance. Because Lisa was due to come in for her shift at any moment, and Chan was giving himself a mental pep-talk for their impending conversation.

But it still didn’t stop his heart from beating erratically when she arrived, giving him a generous smile as she took off her coat. “Good morning, Chan,” she said, and he was relieved that the old nickname of “Satan” had been abandoned.

“Lisa,” Chan said, clearing his throat. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure!” Lisa said, and she walked behind the counter to stand next to him. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Chan started around a deep breath, “I want to talk to you about our...encounters.”

“Encounters?” Lisa repeated, and Chan could feel himself growing more and more embarrassed as she teased him. “You mean like when we had sex in the backroom?”

“Yes, that,” Chan said, and Lisa giggled. “I just think I handled everything inappropriately, especially the way I talked to you.”

“Oh, don’t apologize for that,” Lisa said with a sly wink. “I liked the things you said to me.”

“Uh-huh,” Chan agreed, and he shook his head to collect his thoughts. “I should’ve never avoided you because I made things worse, and that was wrong of me.”

“It’s fine, Chan,” Lisa assured him. “I was willing to give you all the space you needed.”

Chan was surprised by her generosity, and he pushed through to the end of his little speech. “Would it be okay if we tried things out?” Chan asked. “Like, maybe in the right way?”

“The right way?” Lisa repeated with an amused smile.

“Yeah, like I could take you on a date or something,” Chan said, hoping he didn’t look as awkward as he sounded.

“Hmmm.” Lisa pretended to consider his suggestion, running the tips of her fingers over the edges of his bright-red ears. But she eventually ended his misery - moving in closer for a sweet kiss that Chan could feel all the way down to the points of his toes. “I would love that, Chan.”

And maybe he could blame it on the novelty of the situation, but Chan quite liked the warm feeling that blossomed from the center of his chest. Almost as if he had never felt more content before in his entire life.

[hyunjilicious]

The safest white - harry styles

Summary: When things with your abusive boyfriend reach a new level, Harry comes to the rescue. 5.7k Warnings: mentions of abuse. I hope you enjoy this! Please tell me what you thought! Your words make my day ❤

Never in your life had you thought you’d end up in a situation like this. Growing up, you got used to the idea of an ideal relationship, and for whatever reason, fell for the glamourized Hollywood look of the downs people went through as they fought for their partner. Real life hit you like a ton of bricks, put a cloth over your mouth and cut your legs from the knees down. Knowing you have to fight for what you want and know is right, even if faced with facts that contradicted your beliefs, you found yourself alone, screaming at nothing in the middle of a sea of darkness. Your own house. And you were screaming internally, because once again, you feared the man you used to call ‘love’. Droplets of sweat tickled your skin as they rushed down your sides, and your hands and feet, although cold, were damp too. You stood in the middle of the bedroom, facing the door. In some twisted way, you knew there was no chance for you to hide, so you stood there, ready take no more hits without hitting back. And harder. After pampering yourself with a pep talk, you ended up feeling quite confident. Confident that you’d get the fuck out of there with your head held fucking high, but it was a confidence that dissipated once the sound of your own phone ringing reached your ears. “Fuck” you mumbled to yourself, after you jumped out of fright. “No, no, no! Y/n. Get. Yourself. Together” You muttered these words through gritted teeth, repeating them over and over again, until the layer of unshed tears in your eyes became too thick and rushed down your cheeks, forcing you to fall to the ground. The impact made your knees sting, but the pain in your heart had already numbed every nerve ending in your entire body. You were at the edge of collapse, and you phone was still ringing. Wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt, you crawled over to the bed and picked up your cell, only to see Harry’s smiling face on his ID photo along with the pouting emoji you added to his name. It didn’t even take a moment’s worth of consideration before you pressed the red button and declined the call. Not that you had any power left in your body to communicate with another human right now, but you also knew that if it was something important, he’d also send a text, letting you know the matter was indeed urgent. And it came. The text came about 15 seconds later in real time, but for you, it was all a haze. Again, you didn’t think about it. If you declined his call and he still insisted, something must’ve been up. 'Love, I’m stuck at the studio for at least another hour and my mum is coming over’ 'She’ll be at my house in about 20 minutes’ 'If I leave rn I’ll have to come back tomorrow and I want to spend the day with her’ 'Can you go over there’ 'Let her in and hang out or something’ 'Or if you’re busy can she come to you and wait for me there?’

No, way. There was no way you could face his mother right now. She always saw right through your bullshit. Starting with when you and Harry were 18 and started denied your feelings for one another and up until this year, when she sensed something was off with you. When you saw her 2 months ago, it took you about 3 hours to convince her nothing is wrong with you for the sole purpose of keeping Harry out of your relationship. All it took for her to notice you weren’t comfortable with your boyfriend was the way you answered a question about his whereabouts. After that, you had to make up a whole story to prove to her she didn’t need to worry. And they say actors are good liars. You felt you were going to choke with every lie to told her, and frankly, you were surprised she believed you in the end. Maybe it was just how much she trusted you. Nevertheless, you weren’t the person for the job.

You stared at the messages on your phone, and breathed out from the deepest depths of your lungs. You hated that you couldn’t help him right now, but knowing at least 3 other friends of Harry's should be available, you locked your phone and fell back down, leaning against the side of the bed. The mere thought of Harry and Anne calmed you down a bit, but when you went back to reality, another wave of misery hit you. You still had to get out of there, but opening the door to your bedroom was probably the most frightening thing on your mind. There was not much time for you to gather your thoughts and plan your next move before your phone buzzed again. 'You hung up on me. I know u can see these. Everything ok??’ Instantly, you palm connected to your forehead as you rolled your eyes in disbelief. “How did he-” you muttered, unlocking your phone, to assure him you were ok. As it turned out, your text wasn’t enough to convince him you were good, so he called. But for this, you didn’t have the power. This time you didn’t bother to hang up, you turned off your phone completely and fell down onto the carpet. The minutes that followed were excruciating. That is if there was even a matter of minutes, your sense of time wasn’t even hazy anymore, it was gone altogether. The cries you tried to muffle out of fear Jack would hear you from the other room, created an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. If up until now it was all psychological, the spasming of your abdominal muscles were sure to force out everything you hadn’t eaten in the past two days. Just gastric acid was threatening to come up, but this feeling alone wasn’t enough to get you to stand up. By now, leaving the house wasn’t the problem anymore. It was the part of you that allowed yourself to be treated like trash that you didn’t know how to get rid of. At this point, the only thing you felt like doing was cracking your own chest open to rip out your heart and pick apart the broken parts. And not even that was good enough, you were afraid you’d be left with nothing. Since there was nothing you could do right now, you slowly stood up, and decided to head to the bathroom and clean yourself up in order to sneak out of the house. Messy hair and running mascara would draw attention to yourself on the street, and that was not something you could risk. As you walked across the bedroom, when you moved past the window, your eyes landed on Jack’s frame. He was sitting at the table in the back garden, drinking straight out of a bottle of Jack Daniels that was more empty than full. As messed up as that was, this sight gave you a rush of confidence. In this state, it was highly unlikely he’d hear you leave the house, and even if he did, you were positive you’d be able to outrun him. Once in the bathroom, the woman you saw in the mirror was not you. You refused to accept that you were in this state. It was a momentary lapse of character, from which you’d bounce back. You had to. In the shower, although feeling like you could break down all over again, you forced yourself to remain on track, and about 20 minutes later, you were back in your bedroom, putting on whatever clothes you found first. You checked the window. Jack was still there, scrolling on his phone. If you played your cards right, you could leave without your eyes landing on him again. You gathered your essentials - phone, charger, wallet, keys and whatever else you found completely necessary and walked over to the door, where you stopped. “I’ll take you less than three minutes to get to your car, Y/n” you whispered to yourself. “You can do this” You mumbled these words to yourself a few times, and when you raised your hand to open the door, the knob turned by itself and your heart fell two stories down. Already in overdrive, your adrenaline kicked in, sweating out of every pore as you instinctively looked for an object to use to defend yourself. All these defence mechanisms crumbled to the ground when you heard his voice. “Y/n?” because it was Harry, “Are yeh in here? Please, answer me!” You breathed out in relief, something you didn’t know you could feel again. You rushed to unlock the door, and he hurried inside at ungodly speed. “It’s Jack, ain’t it!?” he questioned with anger filled words, “I just got off with the phone with my mum, why didn’t yeh two say anything?” “I told her it was nothing” you mumbled, trying to avoid his eyes, but the way he held onto your cheeks made it impossible for you to look at anything else. “You did, yeah.” Harry nodded with despair, “And she believed yeh and now she’s blaming herself. Tell me. What happened? Where is he?” “God” you cried out and tried to lean your head back, but Harry stopped you and prompted you to look at him again. It worsened gradually, but by now, you barely managed to breathe properly as tears cascaded down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey” he breathed out, “Look at me, love. I’m here, ok? It’s over. I’m here. I got yeh” You tried to nod, but all you did was choke a sob and collapse into yourself, Harry barely managing to catch you. Holding you tight to his chest, he rocked you in his arms and rubbed the back of your head, “Its me, love. Its Harry”. He tried to chuckle, but pain was audible in his voice too. “Nothing will happen to yeh, ok? I swear on anything that I am, yeh're safe, yeah?” You wanted to nod, but when he moved his fingers up a bit across your scalp, you winced in pain, and he caught sight of it in an instant. “Did he hit you, Y/n?” he asked, pulling away to look into your eyes. You nodded no. For whatever reason, that was what you considered was the right answer. “Don’t lie to me, angel. Yeh don’ ever have to lie to me, ok?” “Ok” you muttered. “So did he?” “Yes..” And that was then the light in his eyes died. They started shining a particular type of darkness that terrified you to your bones. You froze. Your mind was too numb to act on your emotion, but when he brought you to his chest again, you finally realised your fear was unrooted. “Where is he?” Harry groaned in a deep tone. “Please, don’t” “I just want to talk to him” he fibbed. “Harry, I’m serious-” you cried, “Don’t do anything, I don’t want this anymore. I want it to be over. What if he tries to-” “Listen t' me, angel” he said sternly, looking straight into your eyes, “You’re crying. Shaking. I’ve never seen yeh like this. Ever. Not even close. Yer whole body shivered when I touched you. That man, hurt you. I don’t even want to think about what he actually did to you right now. Yeh’re the happiest, strongest woman I met in my entire life and he managed to bring you in this state. I won’t have that, ok? I won’t sleep again if doesn’t pay for this.” “Please, Harry” you whimpered, wiping some of your tears away. You placed your hands of top of his, and grabbed them tightly, “What if he does something to you, what if-” “Think about the girl that will come after you, hm? What about her? He’ll go on with his life thinking he doesn’t need to pay for his fucking demented behaviour, and she’ll walk straight into the lions den” “What if he hurts you?” “It won’t get to that, love. I’ll just talk to him. But I have to do this. I can’t not do it, you understand that, right?” After you reluctantly agreed, mostly because he wasn’t showing signs of giving up and you didn’t have it in you to fight him at that moment, you headed downstairs and he walked you to his car. Harry opened the door for you to climb in, but before that, you pressed yourself against him again, craving his touch and the feeling of safety it provided. “Oh, love” he sighed, rubbing your back. “I got yeh” You didn’t want to let him go, but you knew you had to. Eventually, you got into his car, but turned to him before closing the door. “You’re just gonna talk to him, alright?” you sniffled, “And then you’ll be right back, yeah?” “Yes, darlin’” Harry nodded and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be right back” And with that, he left. You watched him walk into the house, your eyes remaining trained on his back until he was out of sight. Not knowing what was going on was driving you insane. Your phone was surely not going to provide any kind of distraction, you felt out of place, like you were sitting on a pile of nails as a train was approaching you at full speed. But there was nothing for you to do about it. Going in and joining the conversation was sure to make things worse, for all of you. It hurt that the right thing to do was sit and wait, you hated it, but you had to be patient. In need of something you keep your mind busy, you opened the glove compartment, and started rummaging through the junk that had pilled up there over the past few months. Mostly napkins, candy wrappers, McDonald’s straws, and seemingly, irrelevant stuff. Eventually, you came across some other things, like your old phone case, which you ended up discarding after you bought a new one while you were shopping with Harry for a birthday gift. There was also there a bottle of perfume, the kind you’ve been wearing for years, and in this one, there was barely anything left. Jumping jacks were taking place inside your heart. You knew Harry was the kind of guy every girl deserved in her life, but you wanted him for yourself only. It was mostly junk, and useless little things anyone would have forgotten existed, but he kept them. It didn’t take long before you got lost in thought again, but in the end, you decided to ignore any rush feelings you might be having, taking into consideration the emotional break down you have just been through. “Hey, love” Harry’s voice filled the air inside his car, as he flung the door open and climbed in in one swift motion. “Did you talk to him?” “Yeah” he said distraught and nodded, before turning around in his seat to check if it was safe to pull out. “With my fists” Your eyes snapped to his knuckles. Skin cracked and little droplets of blood peaking to the surface. However, he gripped the steering wheel as if it was nothing, and kept his smile on. What was most surprising, but actually not quite, was that he looked genuinely relieved. You sighed, “H, what happened?” “Nothing, love. I got there fuming ready to beat the guy to the pulp. But he was drunk outta his mind. I stopped then, I promise. I told him what I had to say but I doubt he understood a word I said” he confessed, grabbing your forearm and giving it a squeeze. “You said you were only gonna talk to him…” “That’s what I was planning on, I don’t- I don’t know what- anyway-” he mumbled, in between ragged breaths, “We’ll deal with it, ok? You won’t ever have to see him again. And he’s fine. He deserved so much worse, but I’m- I’m uh, I’m not-” “Thank you” you whispered, looking down at your hands, knowing any moment now the tears would come back. “Yeh don’t need to thank me, angel. I should have known sooner, this should never have happened” “I know… I’m sorry” “What’re yeh sorry about?” Harry asked, eyes trained on the road ahead, “None of this is your fault” “Then whose is it?” you exclaimed, “Hm?” “Fucking his!!” You tried to change the subject, but all you managed to do was drop this one. Nothing else held. Nothing was of interest, and even if it was, the timing was wrong. There was no way you could have started talking about what movie you just saw, and Harry clearly didn’t feel like boasting to you about what a great time he’s been having with his friends and family. Needless to say, for about 10 minutes, it was you, Harry and the sacred uncomfortable silence. “Can you drop me off at a hotel please” you asked, cringing a bit at your own words. “No, why?” He was clearly surprised, if not offended. “I- uh” you mumbled, too ashamed to use a normal tone of voice. “It’s your mum, H. I can’t see her right now. I don’t want to talk about this anymore, nor do I want someone else to worry about me. I promise I’ll be better tomorrow, and I’ll come hang out. Get a coffee or something” “Is that the only reason you want to go to a hotel?” “Yeah…” “Perfect” Harry nodded, “She’s not at my place. Didn’t expect you to be in the mood for company. But you shouldn’t be by yourself. I can drop you off wherever ya want, but not if you’re gonna be alone”. He took your silence for an answer. “My place it is, then” And you got to his house, and even if you had been there millions of times before, you felt out of place. You were afraid he bought you here out of mercy or sympathy, despite what he had just said. The atmosphere was different, and for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like home. For years, his house and anywhere near him, you felt your safest, yet today, you were afraid anything you’d say or do would be out of place. “Yeh know how this works” Harry said, walking into the kitchen, “It’s your home too, don’t shy away” “I know” you chuckled, and it did sound fake and it was obvious he noticed, but none of you pointed it out. “Are you hungry? Want something to drink? Tea? We can order something-” “I’m fine, thanks though” you sighed, slowly advancing towards him. You leaned your hip against one of the counters, silently awaiting his next move. But he didn’t quite do anything, except change his expression into one of maybe confusion. This must have been hard for him too, you didn’t know what you needed to hear, how could he have possibly known what to say? “Do you wanna watch something?” you asked, wanting to relieve some of the pressure. To be fair, you were not in the mood to watch any movie, but you figured laying down next to him would be calming and an easy way to avoid unwanted conversation. “Yeah, 'course” Harry nodded. “Actually... Got any wine?” He seemed completely taken aback, but soon enough, he came back to reality, offering to get the alcohol while you picked something you wanted to watch. It wasn’t a difficult choice. Seinfeld was a sure option, since you both liked it and it required almost no concentration at all. Just as you laid down on his couch, Harry came back into the living room, two tall glasses in his hands, and a bottle of while under his arm. “Figured white wine was safer, dunno how much we’re gonna drink, and nothing is worse than a red wine hangover” “Just how drunk do you think I wanna get?” you laughed, taking the glasses from him. “As drunk as yeh want, love” Harry smiled, pulling out a corkscrew, “The choice is yours” “Just don’t let me start ranting or anything” “Yeah…” he cringed, sucking in a deep breath as he squinted his eyes, “Can’t promise yeh that. Ya know I’m a sucker fo’ yer drunken ramblings” “Oh shut up” you scoffed. “And why did you bring these?” you questioned, pointing to the glasses, “Don’t you know me at all? Or are you suddenly grossed out by my germs?” “When you put it like that, it sounds gross, yes” Harry laughed out loud, before clutching the corkscrew tight into his hand and opening up the bottle, “But still, I’d be happy to exchange germs with you” “Oh wow” “Wha'?” Harry belted, playfully offended, “Yeh started it!” “Well, it sounds so much worse when some else says it” None of you could ever win this. He came over to the couch and motioned for you to scoot over. During the first episode, you kept your distance, but as the minutes passed and as the level of wine slowly lowered, so did the space between your bodies. By the third episode, Harry was laying down on his back with his knees bent, as you leaned back against his calves. That was when you opened up the second bottle. Still white wine, still safe. Harry's words. Every now and then one of you would chuckle, and in case too much time would pass without one of you making a sound, the other would gently ask an “You asleep?” even though both your minds were way too busy to be able to relax enough to drift off. When you almost finished this bottle too, Elaine was throwing a fuss, in the middle of Jerry’s living groom over some guy she went to gym with. “He wiped his hand on the top of the bottle when I offered him water” she said offended through the TV screen, making you stand up and turn to Harry. “This is the universe, love” he laughed but instantly you shushed him, knowing what line was next. “Are you kidding?” Elaine said again, “He should be craving my germs!” And at that, you both burst into laughter. “I had no idea this was the episode” you barely managed to say in between your crazy giggles. “Is it a coincidence?” Harry smirked, “Think not!” “You’re drunk” “So are yeh!” he defended himself, as if it would change anything. “You know what else I am?” “What?” You picked up the bottle and finished whatever was left in it, and then turned to him with a proud smile on your face, “Ready for the third one” “Stand up” Harry commanded and pointed to the space right in front of the couch. “Why?” “Do three pirouettes and if yeh don’t stumble I’ll open another one” “Buzz kill” you pouted and slapped his legs, “No” “I’ll do it with you” he laughed, and when he stood up, you reluctantly did too. When he motioned for you to do the pirouettes, another smile crept up your lips, “At least put some music on if you want to see my moves” “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” he laughed, walking over to his phone on the table, “Are we gonna dance in the living room like the crazy people in those sappy chick movies we used to watch?” “Why do you have to be an asshole?” you joked, leaning your head to the side. “Because-” was all he managed to say before the music turned on, making him stop talking as he silently laughed. “Why-” you exclaimed, “On Earth, were you listening to My Heart Will Go On? Is Harold in love?” “I have a good explanation!” Harry jumped to defend himself, pointing a finger at you, “I tried to learn it” “On guitar I hope” you teased. “Ha, very funny” “Oh my god, Harry!” you burst into laughter, “I’m assuming you nailed it on the first try” “Yess!” he threw his head back, cheeks all red, “Celine stand back, I’m coming for yer money” “What would it take to convince you to sing it to me?” “Sing it with me” Harry responded in an instant, and it might have been the alcohol, but it didn’t even take a second before you agreed. You both grabbed one of the empty bottles as microphones, and sang your hearts out. Even though Harry had the vocal capability to reach some of those notes and sing full verses correctly, nothing that came out of his mouth sounded right. And if you were to carefully listen to the atrocities that came out of yours, you’d feel the need to hide for a week to finally get rid of the embarrassment. But you didn’t care. And neither did he. Harry only got like this if he was in a truly good mood. He wasn't always bubbly and childish, especially not today after everything that happened, and you knew a bottle of wine wasn’t enough to awaken this side of him, but still, he danced his hips into exhaustion, providing you with all the good energy you didn’t think you could possibly get. Your performance ended when some Creedence song started, and you walked over and pressed yourself against Harry’s chest. Since you got to his house, you gradually started to feel better, but it all came so naturally, you literally had to stop and check in order to actually realize it. “Thank you” you mumbled into his shirt. “Don’t need to thank me, love” Harry said softly, rubbing your back, “Seeing you loosen up and smile makes me feel better too” His words warmed up your heart from the inside, and it was probably the amount of emotions that you felt in the last 12 hours that caused you to have so little self control, but your eyes watered. At that point, thinking someone’s happiness relied on yours, was too much for your mind to process. Especially considering that for the last few weeks, it had been quite the opposite. A lot of things came to mind. There were a lot of things you felt like saying to him. Somehow, you couldn’t escape the need to thank him again and again, you wanted to tell him how amazing he was, how much of a blessing he was. Right then and there you got emotional you wanted to rant your heart out, but in the end, you lacked the courage. For some reason, even though you had nothing but good things to say, you were afraid to do so, embarrassed even. “Still-” you said softly as you pulled away from his chest. Your eyes rose up to meet his, and he welcomed you with the same warmth he had been showing all day, “I don’t know how to exactly say this, but I know that there’s no one in my life who would have dropped everything and came to check up on me, but you did. And I know you don’t want to hear me thanking you again, but I’m so so grateful you’re in my life” you confessed, breaking into a light sob. The change of atmosphere was too sudden. He didn’t see this coming, and you didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to finish your statement without a cascade of tears streaming down your cheeks again. “Love” Harry cooed, grabbing your cheeks and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. The heat from his palms gave you a newfound sense of reality, forcing your thoughts to spiral again. “Y/n, I love yeh. So much. Yeh need to realize that someone taking care of you isn’t out of the ordinary” “It is for me, Harry” “I’ll fix yeh” he chuckled, and it was so weak, and his eyes cried because he had to do so. “And we can talk about it, or you can talk and I can listen, tonight, tomorrow, three weeks from now at 3am. Whenever yeh’re ready, I’m here for you, ok? I fucking love yeh so much, Y/n. Don’t push me away, because I’m here for you no matter what, ok? I want to be” His words, his tone of voice, calm but also disturbed and with traces of pain audible in it, the way his hooded eyes bore into yours, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath he took, was all too much. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now because I’m afraid I might say things I shouldn’t” “If you mean it, you have the right to say it. It’s that simple, love” he smiled reassuringly. You contemplated telling him how much you loved him and how it has been him all the time, but you were afraid he would put it on account of everything that had happened during the day, and that he would brush it off. The last thing you wanted was for Harry to believe your feelings for him weren’t solid. And on top of it all, up until a few hours ago you were in a relationship, and it felt wrong to admit that all this time you have been thinking of another man. “Maybe some other time” you finally said, pushing aside the topic and putting some distance between the two of you. “Whenever that may be” he nodded, “I’m here, yeah?” A whole pile of tangled emotions filled up your chest, and you needed an escape. A chance to put your thoughts in order before you said something you’d later regret. The wine was threatening to force out some confessions, and you decided a shower would be the perfect opportunity to delay them. You stayed in the bathroom for a questionable long time, but when you walked out, wrapped in a towel, Harry was still awake, watching the TV. He had laid on the bed some clothes of his for you to wear, and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself when you finally understood why there were two shirts. The first one was neatly folded, but you didn’t really pay attention to it. The second one, a bit to the side, was obviously recently worn, so you didn’t think twice when you chose this one, the scent of his cologne tickling your senses. After putting the pair of sweatpants on too, you headed back to the living room, where Harry was comfortably laying down on the couch. He signaled for you with his arms open to join him, and you did so in an instant, cuddling into his chest. “There’s only a bit left of the game. 10 minutes tops. Mind if we watch this? I can put Seinfeld back on if you want to” “Oh, no. It’s ok.” you shook your head, “Just tell me who we’re rooting for” “The blue ones, love” Harry laughed kissing the top of your head. After you both shuffled a bit and settled back down in a more comfortable position, with his arms wrapped around you and your head buried into his neck, you only managed to comment on a few moments of the game before falling asleep. Next thing you knew, Harry was rubbing your arm up and down and whispering softly to get your attention. “Let’s go to sleep, Y/n” “No” you mumbled, turning your head so he couldn’t see your face. “Its much more comfortable, angel, I promise” he laughed. “I said no” you giggled back. “I’ll let yeh sleep here then” When he tried to pull away, you tightened your hold around his middle, “No” “Do you know any words other than no?” Harry laughed out loud. “No” His chest shook as he chuckled at your antics, “We’ll sleep here then” “Yess” you smiled and turned to face him again. He seemed amused, but even so, he looked down at you with awe in his eyes. After taking his shirt and his watch off, you both resumed your position on the couch, but this time, you had your back pressed against his chest. “I knew you were gonna chose this shirt” Harry spoke up a second after you closed your eyes, “But it’s weird because you smell like me now” “Harry?” you questioned, playing with his fingers, “Are there things you want to say, but you’re too afraid to?” It took a while before he answered, but you waited patiently. “Yeh mean in general?” “No” you said and squeezed your eyes shut, cringing in anticipation. “I mean now” This time he didn’t answer. Maybe he would have, but when you figured enough time passed, you turned around in his hold. If the answer was no, there would have been no reason for him to hesitate, so you took his silence for a yes. It was a risk you were willing to take. “Good night, Ni” you said and pressed your lips against his; it was hurried, it barely lasted for two short seconds but you put your soul into this kiss and it sent your heart into overdrive. After you pulled away, you turned around immediately and settled back into your spot. He was silent, not one of his muscles flinched. Maybe it was the wine. You shouldn’t have done that. You wanted to move. Not touch him anymore, never see him again. It felt like you ruined the best thing that ever happened to you, all because you couldn’t control yourself. And you were so close. You should have just laughed at his remark about the smell of his shirt and then go to sleep. Why wasn’t he saying anything? This was wrong, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Would yeh have done that if things with Jack happened differently? If they ended on good terms? Or if we weren’t drunk?” “Yes” you whispered, your voice cracking, “I wanted to do that for a long long time. But I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, forget it” “Will never” he said, and then brought you closer to kiss your neck, “And don’t be sorry” “I love you, Harry” “I love yeh”. He kissed your scalp and spoke into your hair, “The most”

-

Hey, guys! In case you read this far and thought this sounds similar (or maybe exactly the same) to another fic posted on here, it’s because I had previously uploaded it to another blog. It was a Niall imagine at first but then i was like hm... Harry! Anywayyyy i hope you liked this! Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought!

[army-of-mai-lovers]

Why Amon Should Have Been An Android

(spoilers for LoK and Young Justice season 1) 

If you followed my LoK liveblog at all you may have noticed that I theorized at one point or another that all four major villains of LoK (Amon, Unalaq, Zaheer, and Kuvira) were secretly robots/androids (the term I used was robot, but the more accurate term would have been android.) Now, with Unalaq it was definitely just because I found him boring, with Zaheer it was to make fun of the fact that he was an Airbending prodigy with zero training, and with Kuvira it was because it was a thing at that point for me to predict that an LoK villain was a robot (and I was kind of right that time!!) 

But with Amon? I was completely serious. We never see his face, his cause is stupid (and the perfect way for his programmers to start some trouble in Republic City), and he was able to resist bloodbending, which, if you’ll recall, requires that the victim have blood for it to work. You know who doesn’t have blood? That’s right, androids/robots. 

But there’s another reason that I sincerely thought Amon was going to be a robot (android), and it’s the reason I’m writing this. There was something naggingly familiar about LoK to me, and no, it wasn’t that it was a sequel series to ATLA. To me, LoK doesn’t really feel a lot like ATLA (barring, of course, the very poorly shoehorned in fanservice cameos of Iroh, three times, like he’s a recurring character or something.) I struggled to pinpoint exactly what it was, but in my own observations and the observations of other people that I was talking to while liveblogging, a couple key differences became clear: 

[ID: an image of Korra from the back looking out towards Republic City, which is shown to have large white skyscrapers, a bay, and numerous smaller buildings. Much of it is obscured by fog and clouds. The city is built in the middle of a sprawling bay. /End ID]

1. the setting of LoK is incredibly Americanized and Eurocentric. While ATLA displays a lot of cultural insensitivity towards the cultures it borrows from in choosing how to depict them, LoK...doesn’t really depict other cultures. Republic City to me felt very similar to how 1920s New York is typically depicted in media, and no setting in the Earth Kingdom or Water Tribe was explored enough to really explore the unique cultures of those settings. While you can tell in ATLA that bryke was somewhat interested in (a vague, exoticized, unrealistic vision of) East Asian culture, LoK is very clearly inspired by America and Europe, with very little else influencing how the setting was depicted. 

2. there are no “unimportant” people in LoK. Everybody is related to somebody we know from ATLA (or somebody from ATLA), a powerful business mogul, military, somebody high up in the government, a celebrity, and/or the Avatar. The only character I can really think of that’s an exception to this is Kai, who really does not have much of a role. (I guess you could argue that Mako is an exception but y’know...he was a famous pro-bender for a while there) You don’t just get to meet a regular person living in a village anymore. Every character in LoK has political, social, or cultural power. 

These points, put together with the technological prowess of the world of LoK (which is different season to season and sometimes even episode to episode depending on how the writers are feeling that day), made the show feel very distant from ATLA, but very, very close to another show that I have watched and loved. And that show is Young Justice. 

[ID: an image, from left to right, of Batgirl, Blue Beetle, Bumblebee, Beast Boy, Miss Martian, Nightwing, Superboy, Wondergirl, Robin, and Red Arrow in the foreground, posing together. Above them and in the background are the adult heroes, obscured in shadow. From left to right, Red Tornado, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, Batman, Superman, the Flash, Green Arrow, and Wonder Woman. They are all against a gradient blue background. /End ID]

For those not in the know, Young Justice is a DC animated cartoon focusing on the teen sidekicks, proteges, and relatives of superheroes like Batman, Superman the Flash, Green Arrow, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, and others banding together to form their own superhero team. YJ is set in America, vaguely, with characters residing in cities with names like Gotham City, Star City, and Central City (a naming convention that Republic City fits right into). And as is apparent from the premise, most of the characters you’ll meet in YJ are superheroes, related to superheroes, or otherwise important business moguls, celebrities, or political figures. And while the world of YJ is of course significantly more technologically advanced than that of LoK, there’s more overlap than you’d think. Besides spaceships, teleportation, smartphones, and genetic engineering, there’s really not a lot of tech that YJ seasons 1 and 2 have that LoK doesn’t. 

So you may be thinking, “ok Arthur, we get it, you’re a fucking nerd, what does this have to do with robots?” I’m glad you asked! One of the storylines of YJ focuses on the war between rival tech moguls Tio Morro and Professor Ivo, in which they build increasingly sophisticated androids. Ivo’s are pretty much just designed to kill supers, but Morro’s are expressly designed to mirror the human psyche, and desire to be a part of human society. Amon very clearly also desires a community, and does much of what he does to integrate himself into a community of nonbenders where he really doesn’t belong. Further, Morro’s androids are immune to threats that humans are not immune to because they are not made up of organic matter. For example, in season 1, episode 3, Miss Martian attempts to read Red Tornado’s mind, to no avail, because she can only read the minds of organic beings. In a similar vein, Amon was able to resist bloodbending, and while unfortunately that was not because he was an android, it would have made sense given the conventions of the cartoon android genre. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my previous YJ knowledge very much influenced the way I read that scene. The way Amon’s body was animated very much mirrored the animation of Morro’s androids trying to resist their evil creator’s programming. 

So, I’ve taken you through the what, the how, but I promised that I’d say why Amon being an android would have been better, and I plan to deliver. First, it needs be remarked that while Amon being an android wouldn’t have made much sense, it would have only made slightly less sense than the canon explanation of Amon being Tarrlok’s secret brother. In fact, I’d argue that, if handled correctly, Amon being an android could make more sense and be more impactful. Here’s how I envision it: android! Amon would be pretty similar to Red Tornado, in that he would know that he was an android and be programmed to help people. He was of course, built by Hiroshi Sato (that man designed and likely built all the Equalists’ weapons he has the range), who sees himself as a sort of father to Amon. Hiroshi tells Amon about the systemic disenfranchisement of nonbenders and how a Firebender killed his wife, and Amon, being programmed to want to help people and to desire participation in human society, decides he wants to lead a revolution against benders. However, an android can’t very well openly lead a revolution (you could add a bit in the backstory episodes about how humans don’t trust androids or something), so Hiroshi and Amon come up with the story that Firebenders burned his face and hands, which is what prompted him to lead the revolution. Thus, his whole body, including his face, is covered, and his followers assume that it’s because the burns are so bad, and they follow him. In the latter half of the season, the krew would uncover Hiroshi’s involvement with the Equalists, but Asami would be the one to realize that Amon is an android that Hiroshi built. Amon being Hiroshi’s “son” of sorts would be another element of Asami coming to terms with the evils of her family, as Amon in this case would be a machine programmed to be easily manipulated to follow Hiroshi’s cause and would consider himself her brother, and she would have to reckon what to do with both of them. The nonbenders’ cause would still be legitimate after Amon was exposed as an android (unlike it is when the literal figurehead of their movement is also antithetical to their movement) and the heroes would have to reckon with the realities of bender supremacy and the hurt it caused. Amon could even get a redemption arc and work with world leaders to make a better society for nonbenders and androids like himself (I’m sure there’s some parallel you can draw between nonbender oppression and android oppression, though I can’t think of one atm) As an added bonus, Amon wouldn’t be able to bend, so he couldn’t bloodbend Korra, which would be one less time that an LoK villain took away Korra’s bodily autonomy. Amon could even be a recurring character in the later books, because really, wouldn’t LoK have been more fun with a newly-redeemed android sidekick still learning about what the world is outside of his creator’s narrow worldview? Plus, that would give Asami more to do in books 2 and 3 than meet Varrick and participate in love triangle drama (Amon is of course replacing Varrick’s presence on the show), and getting to know and bond with Amon could be the catalyst for her visiting her father in prison in book 4. 

Remember, I didn’t claim that this would be good, I claimed that it would be better, and since the bar was on the ground with that secret brothers twist that wasn’t too hard to accomplish. tl;dr bryke are cowards, take the plunge and make him an android. 

[abrakophile]

I was looking through a bunch of junk and found some letters from my dad when he was in the army. I’m afraid I'll accidently toss them, so maybe I’ll put them here?

OPs Name JUNE 02 03

I LOVE YOU

THIS IS MY NAME IN KURDISH

*my dad wrote his first and last name, and under it, in Kurdish*

ILL TRY AND FIND OUT HOW TO WRITE YOUR NAME AND MOMS TOO.

ITS STILL HOT. I WORK AND READ BOOKS TO PASS THE TIME AWAY.

HOW ARE YOU DOING? GOOD I HOPE. WHAT DO YOU DO FOR FUN? DO YOU EVER HANG OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS? TELL THEM I SAID “WASSUP?” NAH, DONT TELL THEM. TELL ME WHAT YOUR THINKING. I’M TRYING TO SEND YOU SOME MORE OF MY DRAWINGS. WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DRAW YOU? DID YOU LIKE THE DRAWING I SENT YOU OF YOU NAME? ITS ALRIGHT IF YOU DIDNY. JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU DO WANT ME TO DRAW YOU.

(Flip Page)

THIS IS WEIRD! (The page does not have lines on the left side of it) i WONDER WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS PIECE OF PAPER. HaHa

I MISS YOU ALOT. PLEASE SOND ME SOME MORE OF YOUR DRAWINGS, YOU CAN DRAW ME ANYTHING YOU WANT TO.

ARE YOU BEING GOOD FOR YOUR MOM? ITS NICE IF YOU HELP HER OUT WHILE I’M AWAY.

HAVE YOU BEEN ANYPLACE NEW? HOW IS SCHOOL GOING FOR YOU? IS MOMMY GOING TO SCHOOL? I KNOW I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL WHEN I GET BACK. HOPEFULLY I GET THE CHANCE TO LEARN EVERYTHING THAT THERE IS TO KNOW. THAT WOULD BE GREAT.

ALSO, ID LIKE TO DO SOME FISHING? HOW ABOUT YOU? I GUESS ILL END HERE. BE GOOD AND STAY IN SCHOOL. AND JUST SAY NO TO DRUGS.

THEYRE BAD.

I LIVE YOU OP

*hearts and x’s* DADDY

---

(I don’t know if all these pages are in order or if it’s missing any, but this was the letter in the same stack as the last but this one was for my mom. In some places his indents indicate passage of time.)

I HAVENT HAD ANY TIME TO WRITE SINCE WEVE BEEN ON THE ROAD, NOT TO MENTION THAT WE CAN’T SEND MAIL WHEN WE’RE MOVING ALL THE TIME.

WEVE BEEN ON THE ROAD FOR ABOUT FIVE OR SIX DAYS, I HAVENT REALLY BEEN COUNTING. I KNOW I TOLD YOU THAT WE’D BE IN KUWAIT FOR A WHILE, BUT THAT WAS SO YOU WOULDNT BE WORRIED. I’M GOING TO KEEP THIS LETTER THOUGH, TILL I GET HOME.

ABOUT TWO NIGHTS AGO, WE DROVE THROUGH BAGDHAD, SOMEBODY SAID THAT THERE WERE PILED BODIES, I DONT KNOW IF IT WAS TRUE.

AND I GUESS YESTERDAY, A COUPLE OF PEOPLE SAID THEY SAW A MISSILE OR SOEMTHING SHOT AT US. I WAS TRYING TO FIX A TRUCK SO I DIDNT SEE IT.

ITS NOT AS DUSTY HERE IN IRAQ. IT REMINDS ME OF THE CONVOYS IN KOREA.

MOST OF THE PEOPLE WILL WAVE “HI��. SOME OTHERS DONT.

I SAW A KID OPEN HIS HAND ONCE WHILE MOVING, AND IT SAID “BUSH” THAT WAS KIND OF COOL.

OH YEAH. HERES A STORY. WHILE OUT DOING A MISSION, ONE OF OUR “BRADLEY” TANKS FIRED ON AN ENEMY AMMO TRUCK AND CLIPPED A KID. THE ROUNDS BLEW ONE OF HIS LEGS OFF AND SOME OF THE OTHER, FROM THE KNEE DOWN. SO THE MEDICS PICKED HIM UP AND BROUGHT HIM TO OUR RECONCOLIDATING POINT FOR MEDICAL TREATMENT. I GUESS HE EVENTUALLY DIED FROM LOSS OF BLOOD THE NEXT NIGHT AND YESTERDAY THEY TOOK HIM OUT AND BURIED HIM.

ALSO WE PICKED UP ABOUT 25-30 P.O.W.s AND SENT THEM SOUTH.

IT GETS PRETTY COLD AT NIGHT. AND THE DAY’S ARE VERY HOT.

SINCE WE LEFT KUWAIT ITS BEEN ME AND MENDOZA IN THE FIVE TON WRECKER AND I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT ITS BEEN EXCITING. WE KEPT GETTING SEPERATED FROM THE CONVOY AND BREAKING DOWN. BUT I THINK THAT WERE BETTER NOW. HOPEFULLY.

IM STILL WAITING TO BE AMBUSHED TO MAKE ALL THIS SEEM REAL TO ME. A PART OF ME WANTS IT AND ANOTHER DOESNT.

AND IT SEEMS LIKE ONLY OUR UNIT HAS TO STAY IN UNIFORM, EVERYONE ELSE WEARS T-SHIRTS AND BANDENA’S AND RAGS ON THEIR HEAD

WERE STILL GOING NORTH. NOBODY KNOWS HOW LONG WE’LL STAY. ITS NOT THAT BAD HERE. MEANING, IT COULD BE WORSE. 

I USED A “SHIT-CHAIR”. ITS JUST A METAL CHAIR WITH A HOLE CUT IN THE MIDDLE AND THE SEAT FROM A TOILET BOLTED TO IT, GROSS.

HELICOPTERS CAN BE HEARD ALL DAY AND NIGHT. I GOT TO SEE THEM DROP BOMBS ALL DAY ABOUT 3 DAYS AGO, FROM A DISTANCE OF COURSE.

ILL BE DRIVING AGAIN, IN A MINUTE. PROBABLY RE-FUEL AND BACK ON THE ROAD AGAIN. IM ENJOYING IT.

I HAVE 8 MAGAZINES FULL OF ROUNDS. NO GRENADES, BUT I LIKE IT LIKE THAT.

SOMETIMES IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT.

I GUESS ILL END IT HERE FOR NOW

I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU TWO TWICE IF NOT THRICE AS MUCH AS YOU MIGHT MISS ME TOO.

HELLO AGAIN. WERE SOMEWHERE NEAR TIKRI + MOSUL. YESTERDAY, ME + MENDOZA WENT LOOKING FOR MOMENTO’S. WE BROKE A LOCK TO A NEAR BY BUNKER AND FOUND 6 A.K.47s! BUT ON OUR WAY BACK TO TURN THEM IN, MAJOR TATU GOT THEM FROM US. I WAS SO PISSED. BUT I GOT A GAS MASK w/ FILTER, A FULL MAGAZINE CLIP FROM ONE OF THE A.K.s AND A BERET WITH IRAQ 1 RANK ON IT.

I MADE A STENCIL FOR THE TRUCK WERE RIDING IN. ITS CALLED THE “GAMBLER.” YESTERDAY MENDOZA DROVE, SO TODAY ILL BE DRIVING.

IM NOT POSITIVE, BUT, I THINK WERE GOING TO TURKEY. NIETO SAYS THAT HE OVERHEARD SOMEBODY FROM S1 (or SI, I’m not sure) SAYING WE MIGHT GET PAID EXTRA FOR GOING THROUGH BAGHDAD.

I THINK NIETO’S MAD AT ME. CANT EXPLAIN WHY. MAYBE ITS BECAUSE IM RIDING WITH MENDOZA AND HE DOESNT LIKE MENDOZA TOO MUCH. OH WELL, WHATEVER REASON, HOPE THINGS GET NORMAL AGAIN. HAVE TO GO,

*hearts and xs*

TODAY IS THE 25th OF APRIL, I RECEIVED FIVE OR SIX (OR SEVEN) LETTERS YESTERDAY. THE LATEST WAS DATED 07 OF APRIL. THAT TELLS ME THAT ITS GOING TO TAKE A WHILE TO COMMUNICATE.

WE HAVENT RECEIVED MAIL BECAUSE WEVE BEEN MOVING NEVER STAYING IN ONE PLACE MORE THAN A DAY, OR TWO, UNTIL NOW. WE’VE BEEN IN THIS SPOT GOING ON FOUR DAYS TOMORROW?!

GIVE ME A MINUTE...

FOR THE LAST COUPLE OF DAYS IVE BEEN HELPING MENDOZA PULL THE ENGINE OUT OF A 5 TON TRUCK AND SWITCH IT w/ ANOTHER ONE. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASY BUT THE FLY WHEEL SEIZED UP INSIDE THE BELL HOUSING. ITS FINISHED NOW AND THE RUMOR IS WE’RE LEAVING  (OR MOVING) AGAIN TOMORROW.

ITS 10:33 THURSDAY MORNING. YOUR TIME IS 12:32 JUST TURNING THURSDAY.

I ALMOST CRYED WHEN I SAW ELIS PICTURE. I REALLY MISS BOTH OF YOU. LET ME BACK TO BEFORE I GOT DISTRACTED. I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO SEND MAIL BECAUSE WE’VE BEEN MOVING. BUT I GUESS THAT WHATEVER THREAT THERE WAS (IF ANY), ISNT SO THREATFUL ANYMORE, WE CAN START RECEIVING AND SENDING MAIL. NO PHONE TO CALL FROM, AND NO INTERNET TO E-MAIL FROM.

THE WHOLE UNIT IS SCATTERED, SO EVEN IF I GET WHAT YOU NEED IT’LL TAKE FOREVER TO GET IT TO YOU. LET ME PULL THOSE LETTERS BACK OUT. OH WAIT. I DID LAUNDRY AND SOME UNDERWEAR THATS DRY, FELT HARD, OH WELL, WAIT A SECOND, K

I HAD TO FOLD SOME T-SHIRTS. ALL MY SOCKS ARE STILL DAMP. 

YOU CAN USE MY CONTRACT TO SHOW THAT I ENLISTED IN TEXAS AND HOWS THIS

*On a separate sheet my dad wrote a detailed note for my mom to give to someone to confirm that he did want to buy a house. He writes “I AM ALIVE AND WELL.” and “PLEASE ACCEPT THIS PAPER”, then he signed it with his scribble signature, and underneath it wrote his name in print and added “1st SQUADRON 10th CAVALRY HEADQUARTERS TROOP (I have no clue what this means)*

HOW’S THAT? HOPE I SPELLED EVERYTHING CORRECTLY. IM ALMOST READY WITH A DESIGN TO COVER THE OTHER TATTOOS ON MY LEFT FOREARM.

I JUST FINISHED LOOKING OVER ALL THOSE LETTERS YOU SENT FOR ME

IM BACK! I GOT SLEEPY SO I TRYED TO LAY DOWN FOR A LITTLE BIT. NO SLEEP. I DONT THINK. I DIDNT HAVE ENOUGH WATER TO WASH MY DCV’S AND A PAIR OF BDV’S. BESIDES FOR DRINKING WATER, BUT WE HAVE TO CONSERVE IT.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE RUMORS. TOMORROW WE’LL BE LEAVING FOR THE IRAN/IRAQ BORDER TO DO “PEACE KEEPING” FOR 3 TO 6 mths. OTHERS SAY THAT THE 4ID (i think is what this says) GENERAL WANTS TO KEEP US HERE TILL NOV., THATS WHEN 1 CAV WILL COME TO REPLACE US. WHILE OTHERS SAY WE MIGHT LEAVE BY JUNE. NOTHINGS FOR SURE.

SMALLER RUMORS FLOATING AROUND THE SITE ARE; RAMSEY AND SFC BACON ARE SLEEPING TOGETHER. SGT SIREK HAS PLANS TO TAKE NIETO AS HIS APPRENTICE AND PADIWAN LEARNER OF THE DARK SIDE. LITTLE BLACK ARNOLD IS MILITARY INTELLIGENCE FOR SPECIAL FORCES OPERATING UNDER COVER A SURVEILLENCE AS PART OF

*the rest of the page is blank*

IM BACK. TODAY IS THE 27th. I GOT BACK TO THE LITTLE CAMP AREA ABOUT AN HOUR AND A HALF AGO. I LEFT YESTERDAY MORNING TO, WELL, AS PART OF DE-CON (DE-CONTAMINATION) MISSION. HERES THE INFORMATION THAT I GATHERED.

A SITE HAD BEEN FOUND THAT WAS THOUGHT TO HAVE CHEMICAL WEAPONS AND 1-10 WAS APPOINTED TO GO TO THE SITE AND DE-CON THE CIVILIANS THAT WERE GOING TO OPEN THEM. AS IT TURNS OUT THE CIVILIANS HAVE BEEN DE-LAYED AND WOULD BE SET BACK 1 DAY.

THE NBC TEAM THAT I WAS WITH WERENT PREPARED TO STAY OVER NIGHT AND AS FORCASTED BY SSG MINOR WE MIGHT HAVE HAD TO STAY 3 TO 4 DAYS. EVERYBODY WAS PISSED.

LATELY ITS BEEN GETTING REALLY COLD AT NIGHT AND WE JUST HAPPENED TO BE NEAR A RUNNING RIVER. SO THE, ITS ABOUT 9 O’CLOCK AND IM BEAT, NO SLEEPING BAG OR ANYTHING TO COVER UP WITH AND I DECIDE TO TRY AND SLEEP. I GET AS COMFORTABLE AS POSSIBLE AND I GET ATTACKED BY MOSQUITOS. NOW IM PISSED SO I DECIDED TO JUST TO STAY UP ALL NIGHT. ABOUT 10PM ONE OF THE HEMTT (this might just say “hemi”, I don’t know) FUELERS SHOWS UP AND SGT TORRES SAYS HE HAS EVERYBODYS SLEEPING BAG! THE SITES ABOUT 45 MINS AWAY AND THEY LEFT SOMETIME MID AFTERNOON TO GET OUR SHIT, I HATE THESE PEOPLE.

RIGHT NOW ITS 9:01 PM AND ITS 11:02 AM YOUR TIME. I MISS YOU.

RIGHT NOW IM GOING TO ADDRESS AN ENVELOPE AND HAVE IT READY TO SEND TOMMOROW THE 28th. IM SORRY IF IT SEEMS THAT IM NOT WRITING VERY OFTEN. FOR A WHILE WE COULDN’T. AND NOW THAT IT SEEMS WE MIGHT BE HERE A LITTLE WHILE, THEYVE KEPT ME REALLY BUSY. LET ME ADDRESS THE ENVELOPES (he drew a star here)

ALL DONE. I THOUGHT ABOUT THE HOUSE A LOT TODAY AND YESTERDAY. IM SURE BY THE TIME THIS LETTER REACHES YOU, YOU’LL HAVE EITHER GOTTEN IT OR GAVE IT UP. IM O.K. WITH EITHER DECISION YOUVE MADE.

YOUVE KEPT THIS FAMILY TOGETHER, AND THAT MAKES ME PROUD. YOUR SMART, ATTRACTIVE AND FUNNY. AND YOU DONT TAKE ANY SHIT FROM ANYBODY. I LOVE YOU.

I HOPE THAT OUR DAUGHTER TURNS OUT TO BE LIKE YOU.

I GUESS ILL MAIL THIS TOMORROW, FIRST THING, SO

EVER YOURS

EVER MINE

*my dad signed it with his scribble, and wrote his name under it. under that are hearts and x’s with my mom’s name and then my name under hers.*

[procrastinatorimagines]

hellooo, can i have imagine with Angus MacGyver?

Gala + Tension + Bombs

The fundraiser was a lot more glamorous than Matty had let on and the food, as Jack had said repeatedly through a full mouth, was delicious. It really was, there was caviar, shrimp and a whole array of hors d'oeuvres that made your mouth water, though you wished the portions were a little bigger. You weaved in between the guests on the arm of your date for the evening, Angus MacGyver, who was currently sporting a very flattering white suit. Not that you’d tell him the ‘flattering’ part - you’d actually told him that white was the worst colour to get stains out of. He may have joked that your floor length red dress was appropriate for hiding blood stains then, but that was the added bonus of the colour you were going for anyway. 

A waiter came by with champagne flutes and Mac grabbed two for the both of you as you positioned yourself close to the dance floor, within ear shot of your targets - a couple of American arms traffickers posing as dignitaries, Conrad and Charlene Elmore. Both the man and the woman looked intimiating, their features were nearly as sharp as their outfits as they conversed with foreign nationals. The traffickers had decided that the best place to arrange a sell for their arms was at a fundraiser specifically designed to raise aid for those affected by the destruction their weapons, and those like it, caused.

You, Mac and Jack were tasked with tailing the sellers, while Riley and Bozer monitored from the van, checking incoming communications for when the buyers would arrive and seeing if they could trace the weapons themselves. Matty’s intel told the Phoenix that they were making their trade in untraceable diamonds, but you did not know what the buyers looked like, or when they were meeting the sellers at the fundraiser. 

“Okay, keep your eyes peeled, it’s been over an hour since Mr and Mrs Terrorist arrived, they could be making their sell at any moment.” Matty’s voice sounded in your ear over coms.

“Do you really think they’d make the trade right here Matty? I don’t exactly see any weapons of mass destruction on hand.” Jack replied, clearly still eating. Mac rolled his eyes.

“That isn’t how these guys work. Our intel says that they have drop sites located near where they make their sales. Diamonds go to them, and if they check out, a key and location go to the buyer. This way if the authorities ever did catch on to where the weapons were, the sellers would be long gone.” Mac explained, offering you his hand for a dance as your targets made their way to the floor.

“it’s smart really, it’s how they’ve avoided being caught for so long. We only got this intel because the CIA got one of their buyers to flip.” You continued, eyes not leaving your targets as you and Mac danced, a little too closely for comfort in the dress you were wearing. The middle of an op was no time to think about your crush on Mac, you scolded yourself as the music changed to a slow dance. Mac’s hands went to your waist, mimicking what the rest of the crowd were doing as yours went to his shoulders. You noted Jack’s pointed glace in your direction as the two of you danced, especially as the couple next to you went in for a kiss, causing Mac’s cheeks to go a little pink and avoid eye contact.

Okay so maybe there’d been a moment on the last op when you’d kissed him to maintain your cover at a night club when you’d snuck into the back room to plant a bug. Maybe. Mac had been a little uncomfortable with you ever since and you weren’t entirely sure what that meant. But as the music continued to play you found yourself being drawn closer and closer to him until your arms were more around his neck than his shoulders. Mac was pulling you closer too, until you were an inch apart. Then the song ended.

He cleared his throat and took a step back, maybe a little too quickly as he noticed Jack grinning behind you both. The sellers finished their dance too, and started heading off the dance floor in the direction of a shorter, balding man who had appeared at the side of the stage, glass of whiskey in hand and what appeared to be a monacle on his face.

“That might be our buyer.” Mac stated and you nodded, signaling to Jack who had already seen where you were looking.

“I’ll see if I can get a bit closer,” Jack said, “Riley, tell me when these camera glasses thingys get a read on Mr Bond Villian over there.” Jack pushed the fake glasses up his nose and wiped his hands on his trousers, moving closer to where a waiter was standing with a tray of champagne.

“Don’t get too close,” Riley said over comms, “we don’t need him getting suspicious, just a little further... yep I got it.” Jack took a sip of his champagne and turned away from the three suspects again. You and Mac approached the tables near where Jack had been standing.

“One of them will probably go for the exit closes the stage, it takes them out down the side of the building towards the kitchen,” you explained.

“Intel says the sellers never stay to the end of the events they attend so my money is on the couple taking that exit,” Bozer replied, “we’ll see them if they do.” Bozer and Riley’s van, designed to look like a meat delivery truck, was positioned just outside the kitchen’s in the staff car park.

“Okay, if they leave, follow them at a distance. Jack, meet up with Riley and Bozer outback once Riley has an ID on our mystery buyer. Mac, Y/N, you’ll take it from there, let’s see exactly what this guy is paying for and make sure it never gets out onto the streets.” Matty ordered just as Riley got a hit on facial rec.

“Okay, this guy is called Horatio, believe it or not, Horatio Delatorre, interpol has him as one of the richest and most dangerous global arms traders; it looks like our local traffickers are expanding their market.” Riley relayed the information and you and Mac shared an uneasy look.

“If we take him down, we take a key player off the board.” Matty said.

“Let’s not lose him then.” Mac said grimly, as a velvet pouches was exchanged between the targets. “Diamonds for the key and location I’d guessing” he noted, “they’re about to be on the move.” Jack was already out the other side door, he’d be rendevousing with the others any second, which was good because the Elmore’s were making their exit stage left and Delatorre was heading back to mingle with the rest of the guests. 

“Okay, Jack, Riley, Boze, you’re about to have company. It looks like Delatorre is going to hang around for a little white so we’ll meet back up at the exfil point once we have the weapon and Delatorre in custody.” The Elmore’s were officially out the building and you and Mac were left with the final target.

A few hors d'oeuvres, mindless chit chat and two awkward dances later, and Delatorre was heading for the front exit. You and Mac followed at a safe distance, getting your car from the chauffeur as Delatorre’s and his driver cruised down the street. 

Mac hopped in the drivers seat as you climbed into the passengers side, swapping into flats and pulling your gun out of an array of handheld weapons from a draw in an underseat compartment. “Remind me how Bozer got Matty to let him use Phoenix money to recreate a Bond car.” You joked, appreciating the leg slit in your dress as you attached a fully stocked thigh holster. It was only when you noticed Mac clenching his jaw that you realised putting your bare leg up on the dashboard might have been a little much, quickly lowering it as he took a left turn, slowing down and switching off the lights as the buyer pulled into a shipping yard.

“We should go on foot from here,” he said, making you glad you’d brought spare shoes, your feet had not appreciated 6 flights of stairs and a fight with two highly trained mercenaries a few weeks prior, your heels still hadn’t fully recovered.

You and Mac approached cautiously as Delatorre got out, appearing to be counting the containers until he stopped at a battered looking red one with the number 7 on the front. It was a far cry away from the glitz and glam the traffickers were known for, but you guessed that was the point.

Delatorre’s driver was waiting by the car, his gun clearly visible in his hand. You noted another in his belt, but besides him you couldn’t see any other men. You almost thought this was going to be easy when a black SUV’s pulled up, 7 armed men piling out as you and Mac shared an uneasy look; thankfully they had come from the other direction, and hadn’t see your car parked up behind the welcome sign. “I still like our odds,” you offered and Mac smirked, that smile quickly falling, however, when the container open and you saw the weapons inside. “Are they what I think they are?” You whispered. The profanity that came out of Mac’s mouth answering your question for you.

“That, is a lot of thermobaric bombs. If any one of them were to get out, the destruction would be...” Mac didn’t need to finish, you may not have been a science genius like him, but you knew your weaponry.

You looked past the men to the water. “They’re getting them out on a boat,” you guessed.

“Y/N’s right,” Matty cut in, “we have an registered ship approaching the dock, if those weapons make it to sea we could lose them. Hurry.”

“No pressure then,” Mac mumbled. You could see the cogs in his head working away in that way only Mac’s mind did. He looked around and saw a few empty canisters lying on top of what appeared to be pile of scrap metal all to be taken out for the trash.

“Let me guess, one man’s trash-” You started.

“Is another man’s treasure?” Mac grinned at you as he moved. “Always. These gas canisters are mostly empty, but if there’s enough left I should be able to cause a distraction.” He explained.

“Long enough for me to kick some ass?” You presumed and Mac nodded. “I can get behind that plan.”

“This guy’s so good he’s gotten complacent, I doubt he’s expecting anyone to stop him, let alone a beautiful woman in a dress.” Mac said as he worked, seemingly unaware of the actual words he said until he noticed you looking at him, eye brow raised with an amused look on your face. “I mean not that... not that you’re not... I just meant... Ah ha!” Mac was saved by the hiss of the canister, a fact he looked very thankful for. “Okay, when you see the signal go down and do your thing.”

“What’s the signal?” You asked as Mac picked up his device.

“You’ll see.” He said, disappearing around the side of the containers, angling closer to where the men were starting to pack the bombs into trolleys to take to the ship. You rolled your eyes; it was going to be an explosion wasn’t it? Whenever Mac said that it was always followed by a loud... Bang!

The sound of, you guessed it, an explosion sounded to your left, along with a brilliant flash of light that sent the guards scrambling to protect their boss, leaving the right open for you to slip down. By the time you were spotted you were close enough to pull the gun out of his hand, smashing it across his head. He crumbled to the floor as you pulled the ammunition cartridge out the bottom, tossing it aside and rolling around the back of the SUV as shots sounded. Half in your direction, half in the direction Mac was. You pulled out your own gun from your thigh holster and fired back, making sure not to fire too close to the giant container of bombs to your right, or the ones on the trolley near your left. Now that would end badly.

A few went down and the remaining focused their attention on you, closing in on your position. Thankfully, that gave Mac enough time to come up behind them, taking out one, and allowing you to take advantage of the confusion to disarm and incapacitate the last two while Delatorre ran for his car. 

“That could have been worse,” you stated, barely even glancing away from Mac as you fired your last bullet at Delatorre, clipping him in the thigh and sending him to the ground inches from the drivers side door of his car. He wasn’t going anywhere. And neither were the bombs. “All in all I’d say-”

Mac’s lips crashing into yours stopped your words, and any coherent thought you had in your head, in their tracks. He pulled away quickly and you blinked at him in shock. “Mac-”

“Sorry,” he cut you off, moving his hand when he realised it was on your waist, “I just had to do that, I’ve been thinking about it since the last op but seeing you kick ass in that dress...” He trailed off and you smiled at the embarassed look on his face, more glad than you’d expected that he hadn’t been awkward with you for the opposite reason. You grabbed him by his tie and pulled him back in for another kiss, but this time it was interuppted by Delatorre groaning and attempting to crawl towards his car. 

“Right, terrorist, bombs, mission,” you listed a little breathlessly.

“Continue this later?” Mac offered.

“Definitely.” You winked at him, reloading your gun and getting Matty back on comms, looking to where the ship was now docked, probably full of more hired guns.

Yeah, you were going to need back up, but at least you had something to look forward to later.

[afoolandathief]

[ID: The phrase “Something Wicked” in bold type with “Chapter 3” written above and “Excerpt” written below; it is surrounded by a black-and-white image of a the bottom half of a woman's face, a red-and-black image of a neon "Open" sign, a red-and-black image of a silverware on a table; and a black-and-white image of a needle.]

Everything has an expiration date. For Caz’s relationships, this could be one night, a few months, or several years; but there was always an end.

This time, though, he swore it would be different. He wasn’t sure how, exactly, but it would be.

An excerpt from what is now chapter three (after I added a new chapter prior to it) of Something Wicked.

For context about the needle brought up in this passage, Jade and Caz use them for drawing blood. And Caz is hungry in this section because, well, he's not getting enough of it. It's also getting harder to hide his vampirism from his girlfriend.

I'm excited because, since I finished chapter three and am on to revising chapter four, I'm getting closer to rewriting chapter five, in which I plan to add a scene where a himbo engineering student mistakes nearly getting killed by Jade and Caz as an invite for a three-way.

TWs for mentions of drug use and addiction, brief reference to sex, swearing, and needles.

[Image again made in and with photos from Canva.]

~

They were at the diner now: Caz dressed up and sitting stiffly across from an equally-stiff Amelia, who had put back on her clothes she had previously thrown onto his bedroom floor.

He traced a finger from one spot to the other on the fake-marble surface of the table. It was going to be okay, he kept telling himself. It had been close, sure, but she wasn’t going to find anything out.

Amelia tossed aside the plastic menu.

“So, you don’t want anything?” she asked.

“Nah, you know I have a sensitive stomach,” he said. His latest excuse. It wasn’t completely untrue. He gave another quick laugh. “If I ate anything here it wouldn’t be real pretty the next -”

“Caz,” Amelia cut in. “We need to talk.”

He swallowed, before putting on his sweetest smile and cocking his head as he rested his chin on his fist.

“About what, love?”

Amelia wasn’t meeting his eye.

“I’ve been thinking,” she took a breath and looked up. “I’ve been thinking, if we want to keep this going, we have to be honest with one another.”

Caz stared at her with his smile frozen on his face for what felt like minutes.

“So,” he finally said. “What did you want to be honest with me about?”

“Caz,” she repeated. “It’s been so obvious, especially recently. You won’t eat; you sleep all day. The way you’ve been acting, like you’re constantly hiding something.”

Amelia had lovely, fruit-scented lips that she tended to bite when she was anxious or upset. She was chewing the shit out of them now.

“It’s an addiction, Caz,” she said. “And it’s clearly taking its toll on you, and it’s taking its toll on me.”

Caz blinked. What in the ever-living fuck was his pretty dame talking about?

“I wouldn’t call it an addiction,” he said, without thinking. “I mean, I need it to survive, Amelia.”

This was clearly the wrong thing to say, as Amelia’s head went crashing into her hands, hiding her face as she took a deep shuddering breath.

“Oh, God,” she said in her hands. She looked up at him. “It’s that bad?”

Caz’s eyes darted around. His stomach, meanwhile, would not stop growling. Maybe he’d pass out. Maybe he could fake his own death. He’d done it to get out of relationships, before.

“Could you tell me what you’re talking about, Amelia?” he instead asked.

He wasn’t used to Amelia being this upset. She was the one who’d drag him out to see horror movies. Christ, he had to walk out of that one action movie she’d insisted on. This reaction from her would have curdled his stomach if it wasn’t so damned empty.

Amelia wiped her eyes and attempted to steady herself. Her nose looked red and itchy, now. Caz wanted to offer her a handkerchief, but wasn’t sure if somehow that would make it worse. She was pulling napkins from the dispenser, anyway.

“I need to know,” she said, her sweet voice steady. “For my own sake, at the very least. What is it, Caz? Is it pills, heroin?”

Caz studied her face, waiting for her to laugh this off as a joke.

Well, tonight couldn’t get much worse. Maybe his mother’s ghost would burst in and start lecturing him about taking nearly 600 years to get married. Maybe someone would shoot him. Not that that would do much good.

He took a breath. Took stock of the situation. There were still pretty good odds he could save this. Of all the skills he had curated over the centuries, Caz was especially good with his mouth.

He gave Amelia a simpering, slightly-confused smirk.

“Amelia, love,” he began. “All these little things; these aren’t symptoms of being on pills or something. Maybe of my lazy ass not wanting to get up in the morning, but nothing more than that.”

He took her hand in his own, massaging her little fingers. Amelia was smart, but Caz had known a few addicts in his lifetime, and the poor, naive thing didn’t know what to look for.

He knew what to say next.

“Perhaps I have been too secretive with you, lamb,” he said, bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss it, appreciating how warm it felt. Just, don’t bite it, he thought, as his hunger pangs returned.

“But that’s because I wanted to surprise you. What if the two of us went on a trip next month? I was thinking -”

“Caz, that’s not the only thing.”

She pulled her hand away and reached into her bag, setting something small and silver on the table. Caz stared blankly at the object in front of him.

“I don’t know where the rest of it is, but that’s a medical-grade needle, Caz. Do you have any idea why I found this in your kitchen?”

Caz stared at the surface of the diner table, counting the number of dots and splotches on the olive-green sea. What was that song again? It’s only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea. That described this city, with its neon-starlight, to a tee, didn’t it?

“Caz,” Amelia said. “Caz, are you hearing me?”

“Hm?” he asked, looking up.

“Caz, are you high right now?” she choked out, her eyes watering.

She leaned close to him, trying to see his pupils, he realized. They tended to turn to pinpricks under the fluorescent lights. He really hated how bright everything was nowadays.

“No, no!” he exclaimed. “Amelia, please don’t cry.”

“Well, explain to me what is going on, Caz!”

She looked back at him with impossibly blue eyes.

“Was it a relapse?”

“Amelia, I -” he began, before taking a breath.

It was going to be okay. He could still save this.

“Fine, I’ll be honest with you,” he lied. “It was a relapse. I started using again. But I think we can still make this -”

“Caz, you know I can’t see you if you’re like this.”

“I -” he paused. Swallowed again. “Yeah, I know.”

Motherfucking expiration dates.

They sat there quietly for some time, no longer stiff. Just letting the moment hang loosely off them. Then Amelia stood up.

“Well, I have all my things on me,” she said. “I think I’m just going to head home.”

Caz looked up at her. His head hurt, now, and his eyes were burning.

“You planned on leaving tonight didn’t you?”

“After you got up again tonight, yeah. I’m not going to hang around if you’re getting high in your kitchen, Caz.”

She pulled out her phone and began to move in her firm, confident way to the exit.

“Amelia?” he called out weakly.

She stopped and turned back to him.

“Yeah?”

“If I can — manage things again, do you think we might ever have a chance?”

Amelia had a bemused, sad smile now, as she cocked her head at him.

“Manage things, huh? That usually takes a long time for most, Caz.”

“I swear to you, I’ll do it, Amelia,” he said.

Fucking how?

“Well, maybe then, Caz,” she said.

Then, she stepped outside the restaurant, and it wasn’t long before her distorted form through the window had disappeared into the night.

Caz watched as she left, fiddling with a pink packet of artificial sweetener, before lowering his head to the table.

“Diabetic!” the waitress behind the counter heard someone moan. “Why the fuck didn’t I say I was a diabetic?”

[hello--mrs]

Steven Universe Podcast: Battle of Heart and Mind

I don’t usually do this but I said I would for the server, so here we are. 

This episode included Rebecca Sugar, Kat Morris, Joe Johnston, Matt Burnett, Ben Levin, and Ian Jones-Quartey. 

·     The episode starts with the rainbow worm in Steven’s dream, who is voiced by Deedee. This is the last homage to the princess references in the arc. The worm is from the Kyanite colony and was brought to Homeworld by Pink, which Blue allowed, but then Pink released all worms in the ballroom. Rebecca mentions this links with Pink’s desire to be free by releasing animals from their colonies. 

·   This specific princess reference was to Jasmine (in Aladdin) opening the cage and allowing the birds to fly free. It was also a reference to Pink’s love of animals and wanting to set them free, which isn’t out of character for Steven either. 

·   For Diamond Days, they picked the most common princess tropes for Steven’s time on Homeworld and made this experience alienating for him. 

·   Rebecca states that the Diamonds are meant to exist as a body- the inspiration for the ship. Pink is the Id, Blue and Yellow are the Ego, and White is the Super Ego. This is represented in Change Your Mind where the collective mind experiences embarrassment when the Id demands they enjoy something. 

·   Kat admits that they came up with the new outfits by continuously emailing each other with ideas. Rebecca said they considered everything but there were some concepts that they really wanted, for example, Rainbow 2.0 would have a scarf and a jacket. It was important either way that the fusions would notably have Steven’s clothes and the gems. However, the fusions would hint at the new forms and Pearl didn’t end up having a scarf, but she did have the jacket. Later, McKenzie asked if the jacket was a throwback to Bad Pearl and Rebecca confirmed that it represented her independence. 

·   One of Garnet’s new designs included transparent glasses and Peridot’s glasses in the shape of a star. Kat came up with the idea for the shredded shorts and star pockets for Amethyst. 

·   All of the new outfits represent how the gems have changed and learned from Steven. 

·   Rebecca mentioned that Pearl has been ‘playing the field’ and ‘exploring who she is’, which started in Last One Out of Beach City.

·   Lapis has gold accents on her new outfit to match the real-life gem stone. Kat said that Rebecca really wanted the sandals for Lapis and it makes for comfortable cosplay. 

·   Joe said that he enjoyed a lot of Garnet’s new designs. Most ideas were based off superheroes and had a more ‘knightly’ aspect. 

·   They confirmed that they tried Peridot’s new design with star hair but it was too much. Rebecca said that the glasses already change her silhouette and expose her gem more. 

·   Peridot also has boots this time. Before, she had socks because she used to wear limb enhancers. 

·  Mary Poppins and Bert were the inspiration for Rainbow 2.0. These concepts were made by Joe around 2-3 years ago. Sunstone was a newer concept. 

·  Rebecca said that all Garnet fusions can break the fourth wall, but with Steven, it would break it to give advice to children. The suction cups are also a combination of Steven’s shield and Garnet’s gauntlets. When creating Sunstone, Rebecca wanted her to look like a toy that you could stick in the back window of a car with suction cups. 

·  Alistair James auditioned for Rainbow 2.0 by doing an impression of his grandmother with a British accent. Rebecca said that Shoniqua was perfect and she knew immediately that she wanted her for Sunstone. She sounded exactly like how Miki Brewster pitched her. 

·  For Obsidian, they’d had her concept from the very beginning since she was shown as the temple. It was a hidden in sight visual that would eventually pay off. 

·  Obsidian’s sword is in the ocean, which is a part of the temple. It’s first seen in Bubble Buddies and seen again in Ocean Gem when the ocean is cleared. The sword design changed over time to ensure that all the Crystal Gem’s weapons could fit into the design. 

·  The earliest inspiration for White Diamond is traced back to the beginning of the show. She was inspired by the film ‘A Story of Menstruation’, which was made in 1946. It was a film by Disney played in schools to teach children what to expect in menstruation, and the narrator’s voice was a kindly older woman. Rebecca said that she found the designs really interesting and cute. 

·  From the film, the inspiration came from a scene where a woman cried into her arms but in the reflection of her mirror, she straightens up and starts smiling before going out dancing. The narrator says: “Don’t forget that people are around you and you’ll have to be more pleasant if you want people to like you”. The scene passes by and it ignores that fact that the woman was crying earlier, because she’s now seen being ‘correct’. This is the voice and the feeling that she went for with White Diamond and Homeworld. 

·  Homeworld is inspired by Busby Berkeley, and White is inspired by Hedy Lamarr in Ziegfeld Girl and Nell Brinkley drawings, all within an era where women were seen as beautiful pieces of furniture. Rebecca states: Women are like lamps, smiling and there, part of the scenery. It all originates from the idea that people thought it was lovely and seen as an escape from reality. 

·  Those early inspirations were also used for the wall gems- the idea that people are in the background as if turned to stone and function solely as architecture. These faces we see in the architecture are gems and that’s their function. 

·  White has always been associated as a mother, especially in terms of her storyline with Steven in this arc, and how gems are viewed as her children. This arc wanted to begin to explore her relationship with them. 

·  Rebecca says that White’s way of thinking is that she is everyone and everyone is her. She considers herself the default white light that passes through other gems, so when she sees gems absorb other colours from that light, she considers it a variation of her but lesser. In that way, she has no identity at all because she considers herself just light. She feels that people can be turned into her because they are all the same. 

·  Rebecca also stated that White is wrong about how she views the world and herself. It’s an antithesis to Rose’s journey- expression and repression. She lives in a delusion that everything is fine but it isn’t. 

·  Matt and Ben said that the whole episode was balanced by ensuring that every single character got their moment. It was an accumulation of ideas from over the years that they tried to fit into one episode, such as Amethyst greeting Jasper after she was uncorrupted. They felt they did everything they wanted to do before they left. 

·  All past episodes, especially for Diamond Days, were made to build up to the scene with White and Steven where she pulled out his gem. Mirror Gem is the first time they introduce the concept that a sentient gem can be trapped inside an object and that object is Steven. They’ve been planting hints that Pink may be trapped inside him ever since. 

·  From the beginning, they’ve wanted there to be doubt that Steven was his own person and have the audience question if Pink/Rose could still be alive. Even when the gem was pulled out, they still wanted the viewer to doubt if he was Steven. They planted enough hints that the viewer would think it could go either way. 

·  Between the crew, the hottest debates were about the storyline between Steven and Rose/Pink, about who Steven would be if they were separated. One of the most recent arguments was about Steven’s gem self and the fact he was devoid of any feeling, that there was none at all. That emotion came from Steven. 

·  Rebecca had planned the split perspective scene since the start of development and storyboarded it early in the process. It’s still from Steven’s point of view. Ian noted that if the show wasn’t completely from his perspective, it wouldn’t work. The split perspective was to also represent how torn and disoriented Steven was in that moment. 

·  Pink Steven is him as a default. If you take away his personality and emotion, he is empty. He’s been separated from his humanity and all that’s left is power. There have been nods to this in the past by showing how his power is greater because of his humanity and his capacity to love. 

·  Ian said that Rebecca has always had the idea of the final confrontation being about Steven’s relationship with his powers and that connection showing who he really is. Steven wants that human side of him, even if it slows him down, because it’s what makes him who he is.  

·  The scene of Steven returning to himself was originally written for episode 10. It was going to be a part of Giant Woman where they establish fusion. 

·  Rebecca confirms that James Baxter animated the scene where Steven reunites with Pink Steven. She met him by doing a drawing for his daughter’s birthday. 

·  The fusion sequence with the two Stevens was the ultimate princess trope- a rotating dancing scene specifically boarded by James Baxter. He completed the whole sequence himself apart from the inking. 

·  Ian mentioned that he wanted the uncorrupted gems scene for a long time. He said they always knew the arc would come back to the corrupted gems as that was the original conflict of the series, but now they finally get to see it through. 

·  On top of that, Ian went through every single episode that had a corrupted gem and designed their healed versions, while Rebecca added some of the quartz designs. He mentioned that the longer they were in their ‘monster’ form, the more they will look like that form, even when they’re healed. That’s why several of the healed gems look more like their original designs.

·  Rebecca added that Ian helped with the fusion designs and their sequence, as that was a wishlist moment for him. He wanted Steven to fuse with all the gems in a row. 

·  Ian said that he had been most excited about Rainbow 2.0 and that Colin Howard had done most of the groundwork already. 

·  Rainbow is they/them and he/him, and Sunstone is they/them and she/her. 

·  Rainbow 2.0 is mixed with Pearl’s properness and Steven’s penchant for making jokes. Rainbow 2.0 loves to make puns and is a throwback to Steven’s puns in the earlier series. In the episode, Ian also came up with the idea that RQ 2.0 could ride their umbrella and have a rainbow shoot out of the end- a reference to Pearl being able to shoot lasers out of her spear. 

·  With Sunstone and Rainbow 2.0, they wanted to be able to show common traits in Sardonyx. The break in the fourth wall comes from Garnet, but loving to hear themselves talk comes from Pearl. Steven enables the both of them to embrace their silly sides. 

·  The ship foot falling on them was a slight reference to Monty Python but also a reference to the giant foot mentioned in Arcade Mania. 

·  Rebecca stated that the song Change Your Mind was not written for the show, but a personal song she wrote while fighting for the wedding arc. She was hesitant at first to include it. 

·  Change Your Mind isn’t for the end of the Steven Universe franchise but for this arc, Ian mentions. He adds that even though it was written for the process of including the wedding, it perfectly captures the theme of the show. As a coming of age story, Rebecca notes that this is something that had to happen for Steven to start making decisions for himself. 

·  Rebecca also admits it has been hard to write for Steven because he always puts others before himself. It’s always about what others want and what he thinks they want. However, he finally comes to a realisation in this arc that he doesn’t have to be anyone else other than himself or pamper to other’s expectations. 

·  Ian states that this arc was incredibly important for Steven’s development, in terms of who he is, who he thinks he is, and who others believe him to be. Moving forward, everything will be different from Steven’s perspective. There’s going to be more but it will have changed, because Steven has changed. 

If I’ve missed anything out, let me know. Hope you guys enjoy!

[forestwhisper3]

I dunno about all of you, but I never sign the back of my ID cards.

That aside...

*wheezes before falling over*

This...took a lot longer than I thought it would. Jeez. I started off with the template for the ShinRa employee ID and altered it, but somehow, that took a few hours? Why? 

This is going to be what Castalia’s ID looks like by the way, but she won’t get it until she arrives in Midgar. For now, she just has her certificate of mastery (it came in the mail after Helena passed her exam).

Anyway, here’s a bit of (story) info:

- The Guild was actually established before ShinRa Corp. While the latter may have surpassed them in power and influence since then, they are not a group to be taken lightly.

- The Guild is made up of seven factions, three of which are alchemy, armorers, and weapon-smiths. There used to be more.

- Each faction has four levels: Apprentice, Journeyman, Master, and Grand Master. There is only one Grand Master for each faction.

- They also have their own symbols to distinguish them. Phoenixes are used by the alchemists.

- The previous was decided only after a nasty multi-faction fight that resulted in more than a few injuries.

- It is unclear exactly how the alchemists won as it happened quite a few years ago and there is no one left alive to tell the tale.

- The main guild logo is on the back. This is the symbol that is used at the entrance to their headquarters.

- ShinRa and the GCG have similar looking IDs because they got it from the same place and neither wanted to change it once they found out.

- There is a typo on the card, and it bugs the hell out of some of the members.

- That is part of the reason the Grand Masters haven’t done anything about it.

- Cole still has his card, but it’s lost somewhere in his house.

- Castalia will keep forgetting to sign the back of hers.

So...yeah. That’s about it. Hope you liked it. Chapter 12 is being worked on, but I somehow ended up adding a few things that I hadn’t originally planned. It’s almost done though. I just needed a break, so I decided to do this. I hadn’t expected it to take as long as it did, but what can you do.

Castalia photo made with this picrew: https://picrew.me/image_maker/167775

Phoenix image: https://www.template.net/design-templates/inspirational/phoenix-bird-art-drawing/

Guild Logo: https://www.pngegg.com/en/png-fnfha/download

Images edited with: Clip Studio Paint