#I rewrote this like 3 times I could NOT decide on a scenario

[youngpettyqueen]

things you said when we were the happiest we ever were- Charles/Hawkeye

They fall into the cot together, Hawkeye tumbling back and pulling Charles in, Charles falling over on top of him. They're both laughing, rosy-cheeked and dizzy with drink. They wrangle themselves together on the cot, clumsy limbs tangling up and bodies mashed together, trying to find some comfort to settle in.

"Charles." Hawkeye says, trying to untangle his leg from one of the blankets. This has to be Charles' cot- it's too soft to be his, and there's at least one extra blanket here, one being tangled around his leg and the other gathered up under his back.

"Mm." Charles grunts, being no help at all, doing his best to wrap himself around Hawkeye like a koala.

"Yer drunk." Hawkeye grunts, pushing at his shoulders to keep him from crushing him into the cot. This sort of works- Charles rolls back onto his side, bringing Hawkeye with him as he stubbornly refuses to relinquish his sloth-like grip on his waist.

"I am not," Charles replies, affronted, "I'm hammered."

Hawkeye barks a laugh, and soon enough Charles joins him. Their heads bonk together briefly and they snicker like schoolboys, all giddy and wrapped up in a tangle of limbs and blankets.

It's warm here. It's late in the fall, nearly winter, so the chill is nearly impossible to escape. But here, hidden away in a cot in the dark of the night, bundled in Charles' arms and his belly full of booze, Hawkeye finds he's the warmest he's been in months.

"This was your plan all along," Charles accuses, laughter still in his voice, "You... you planned it. Get me drunk and get me... in bed," He pulls him in a bit closer as he speaks, "You fiend."

"You're the big teddy bear here," Hawkeye retorts, grinning, draping his arm loosely over Charles. His other arm is pinned between them, destined to be numb in the morning, "I think this was your plan all along. Could've just asked, but no," He's laughing again, Charles' poorly-concealed smile in the dark tipping him over the edge, "Had to get me drunk first. Who's the fiend?" He demands.

"It's cold," Charles reasons, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "How can- how do you expect me to- to stay alone in this cold little cot all... all alone?" He laments.

Hawkeye snorts, squeezing in a bit tighter, chasing that lovely warmth they've got between them. "Baby, it's cold outside..." He sings quietly.

Charles wheezes, ducking his head and shoving his face into Hawkeye's chest as he starts to cackle. Hawkeye laughs, too- wheezing and whistling like a teakettle. He can't help it. He's warm, he's drunk as hell, he's snuggled up with Charles.

He keeps singing, quiet, slurring his words and making up lyrics as his drunken brain forgets half of them. He wheezes out most of the song between laughter, because Charles won't stop laughing, and it's only egging him on.

Hawkeye finishes the song by pressing in to kiss Charles, long and slow and sweet. He can taste the alcohol on his breath, feel the stickiness on his lips, and he just kisses him again. And again. Till the warmth between them feel like it's lighting his face on fire, till they're smiling against each other and pressing in as close as they possibly can, not an inch of space between them.

This wasn't planned. None of it was, of course it wasn't- it's just fun to pretend, put up a front before they surrender into each other. Because Charles is, against all expectation, a clingy, cuddly drunk. And Hawkeye is a silly drunk, one who's impulsive and wanting, and he knows these fleeting late night moments are the best they can hope for.

As far as these things go, though... he really can't ask for much more than this.

[ranhaitanisgf]

aaaaaAAAAA CONGRATS ON 2K !! IM SO HAPPY & PROUD OF YOUUUUU ILYSM YOU DONT KNOW HOW MYCH I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR HCS 🗣!!

ofc i HAD to join on this event 🤩 may i have a scenario for “oblivious ‘best friends’ “ & “getting sick” with inui? where reader FINALLY realizes that inui actually cared for her more than a friend would ? preferably fluff 🛐 TQSM LOVE I APPRECIATE IT [cry] <3

— inui [inupi] seishu // obvlivious best friends // getting sick

[𖤐] ANON THATS SO SWEET !!!! im sorry for disappearing for so damn long !!! i hopeeee yall enjoy this, as i went wayyyy over word limit once again !! i also rewrote this like two hundred million times cuz i was struggling w the vibes idk ... anywho. enjoy my loveliessss xoxooooo

wc ; 1.7k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

inui was worried. 

well, he wasn’t sure that that was quite the word to sum up how he was feeling at the moment, but it was the best he could come up with at the moment. 

his worry had started around a week ago, when you had stopped showing up to toman meetings. it was highly unusual, since even though you took on more of a strategic role rather than a fighting role, you still would attend every meeting to offer your input on different issues and how to solve them. you prided yourself on your intellect and being able to strategize, so the first day you hadn’t shown up, it was already ringing alarm bells in his mind. 

after the second, third, and fourth day, inui was sure that something terrible had happened, and somehow nobody had told him. however, even after asking around all the divisions, and even mikey himself, he concluded that nobody had a clue as to where you were. every time he tried to call your cell, it went straight to voicemail, and all the texts that he sent were still on delivered. 

and so now, as any best friend would do, he showed up at your apartment. 

he had visited a couple times in the last week, repeatedly pressing your doorbell and knocking on the door for what seemed like forever. he didn’t want to intrude into your home, but his worry was getting to its peak, so, as an normal person would do, he decided to break your door down. 

sure, he felt pretty guilty about it, especially since your landlord would probably give you hell about it, but the pros outweighed the cons in this situation. 

pros: he gets to see if you’re safe. 

cons: your landlord gets angry and increases your rent, your door is broken until it gets fixed, your neighbors will be upset (maybe), you might get kicked out of your apartment. 

yeah, in his mind, the pro outweighed the cons. 

with a strong kick, inui swiftly kicked beneath the handle of your door. as expected, it wasn’t the strongest thing, so it opened rather easily, even having the courtesy to stay on the hinges. 

“(y/n)?” his voice rang throughout your apartment, feeling a bit on edge at how messy everything was.

 had someone broken in and kidnapped you? did you get robbed and they ended up abducting you? what if-?

“what…the fuck.” inui’s jumbled thoughts cleared up the moment he heard your voice, (was it a bit more raspy than usual?). you had emerged from your bedroom, a blanket heaped over your shoulders as you blankly stared at him. 

“(y/n)...” without much thinking, inui took a couple hasty steps forward and wrapped his arms around you, relief flooding through him. “do you have any idea how worried i’ve been? why didn’t you pick up any of my calls?” you sniffled a bit in his embrace, making him step back a bit to get a better look at you. 

your eyes were rimmed red, and now that he was paying more attention, he realized that you were really warm. your hair was quite a mess, and despite the thick blanket that you were holding over your shoulders, you seemed to be shivering. 

“well, that’s ‘cause my cell’s been dead and i haven’t charged it.” you jerked a thumb over at the living room couch, which your dead cell phone was laying on. “what’re you even doing here though? did you break the door?” your eyes wandered behind him, seeing your door wide open, looking back at inui as he froze a bit at the question. 

“yeah…i’ll pay for a new one. is this why you haven’t been responding? because you’re sick?” 

“i think you’re smart enough to answer that question yourself.” you mumbled, turning around and walking back to your bedroom. “now, if you’ll excuse me, ‘m gonna go back to sleep…” after taking another couple steps though, you felt yourself stumbling as your vision began to blur. 

your wavering frame was steadied by two arms at your shoulders, quickly leading you to sit down on the edge of your bed. as your vision came back, you noticed inui kneeling in front of you, his brows pinched together with worry as he slipped his cool hand onto your forehead. 

“you’ve had this high of a fever this whole time?” 

“yep…” you could barely keep your eyes open at this point, your head bobbing up and down as you tried to stay awake. 

“hm…just go back to sleep.” 

“will do…” you mumbled, flopping back onto your bed and getting under your blankets. 

inui looked down at you as you passed out almost immediately, feeling worried and a little bit betrayed. why hadn’t you called him? had you been taking care of yourself this whole time? 

he settled onto the edge of your bed, carefully pushing some strands of hair out of your face. gently, he pulled some of your blanket up, tucking you in, the corners of his lips turning up as you buried yourself deeper in the blanket. 

cute…

--

“...up…(y/n)...wake up…” you groaned at the subtle shaking of your body, turning over to try and go back to sleep. “(y/n)? just wake up for a few minutes and you can go back to sleep.” the smell of something good wafted through the air, which was enough to make you slowly open one eye, turning back over.

inui was above you, leaning over as he made sure you were awake. his blue eyes became a bit softer when you finally opened both of your own eyes, staying over you for a moment more than was necessary before leaning back. carefully, he handed you a small bowl of rice, a fried egg on top of it with some soy sauce, handing you a pair of chopsticks. 

“you should eat if you want to get your strength back.” you dug in without another word; the most you had been surviving on in the past week was crackers and cheese, since that was the only thing you were able to eat without doing any sort of cooking. 

however, your eating paused when you felt inui pushing some of your hair to the side, unpeeling a cold pack and carefully sticking it to your forehead. he was a little bit closer than he probably needed to be; you could see the flecks of green in his blue irises, his eyebrows still pinched together a little bit as he looked at you. 

ba-dump!

now that you were a little bit more awake, you became quite conscious of how messy your hair was, and even more so noticing how sweaty and gross you were. your fingers ran through your hair, trying your best to take some of the tangles out as you looked to the side, embarrassment flooding through you. you hadn’t called anyone on purpose; you hadn’t exactly wanted anybody to see you like this. 

“er, thanks…” 

“...” 

“...seishu…?” you questioned, feeling a bit awkward as he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. he looked back at you from his seat on the edge of your bed, a somewhat faraway look in his eyes. 

“hm?” 

“uhm, are you alright…?” at your question, inui opened his mouth, then closed it again, seeming to be thinking about something. he mulled over it for a few more moments, the silence feeling just a tad awkward, before he started to speak again. 

“i wish you had called me.” he said, a tone of hurt in his voice. “i was worried that something may have happened to you…and even if you’re just sick, i just…” inui paused, fiddling a bit with a piece of his hair as his ears turned a bit pink. “...i wish that you would rely on me more.” he sighed, his head pulling down a bit as he stared at the ground. 

the straightforwardness of his words caught you wholly off guard; you had not been expecting that sort of response from him. 

you felt some guilt flood through you at seeing his sadness, laying your chopsticks across your bowl as his words echoed through your head. you supposed that you probably should have just let him know that you were sick instead of trying to disappear for a week or two, since you probably would have also been worried if he had tried to pull a stunt like that. 

“i’m sorry…i just didn’t want anybody to see me like this. i don’t exactly look the best right now, so-” 

“you look good.” 

“...” you stared at the boy seated next to you, trying to find any sort of lie in his eyes. instead, he just kept looking back at you with the most honesty in his eyes, a slight smile across his lips. “you’re a weirdo…” you murmured, feeling your heart skip a beat when you realized that he seemed to be serious with his words, (was your face feeling hot because of your fever?). 

inui didn’t reply to your half-hearted words, instead taking the bowl from your hands and placing it on your bedside table. 

“you should get some rest.” you stayed sitting up for a moment, your eyes tracing over all his fluid movements. his blue eyes suddenly flicked back to you, the eye contact finally breaking the trance you seemed to be in, making you immediately lay back down and cover the bottom half of your face with your blankets. despite the embarrassment you were suddenly feeling, there was also a giddy feeling you felt as you watched inui adjust your blankets, making sure that you were all covered up. 

“are you going to leave?” 

please say no.

“well, no…your door doesn’t close now, and i’m not going to leave you here to let just anybody walk in.” 

“oh, right. forgot about that…” you giggled a bit at inui’s sheepish expression as he stood up, clearing off your bedside table and standing up. 

“get better soon, (y/n).” there was a small smile on his face as he exited, gently closing your door behind him. when you were sure he was gone, you couldn’t help the euphoric smile that spread across your face, pulling your blankets a bit over your face. 

did that really just happen!?

[jokeringcutio]

Could u please do reader x joker 2019?

Reader protects Arthur (before he turned into joker) from when his sign was taken and she beat the kids up and he won’t ever forget that moment. But now,Arthur turned into the joker, he returns the favour by saving her from bad guys?

And when he saves her, he walks elegantly towards her 😫✨ and says “I missed you, doll” 🫣🫣🫣😭✨

Title: Savior Fandom: Joker 2019 Pairing: Arthur Fleck (Joker)  x Reader Rating: Mature for safety. Warnings: Violence, (attempted) sexual assault, Crude Language, Clown beating, Blood, Murder. AN: I wrote two versions of this. A sweeter tale, after which I realized the prompt specifically said that the Reader beats those bad boys up – so I rewrote it. Now I really struggled with how the Joker saved the Reader in this. I’ve written several different scenarios, but none of them felt right. In the end, I decided to base it on personal experience and went along with something that happened to me and frightened me a lot while I was in university. And that was passing this certain school and the young men that tried to sometimes sexually assault you there. It never went as far as in this fic, though, thank the lucky stars. But I had to push the situation a bit more to get a more satisfying end to their lives >D

Be warned, the boys in the second part try to attempt to rape the reader (I won’t go as far as clothes being torn off etc, but they do try to drag her into an alley and scold her).

So if any of this triggers you, please, do not read and hold out for the sweeter fill of this prompt that I will be posting later on &lt;3

~ Savior Fill : I Can Handle Myself ~

The boys ran past you with such haste, it was as if a train passed you. You followed them with your eyes, frowning, and inwardly cursed how rude they had been to nearly trample you on their way past you. But you didn’t have long to think angry thoughts, because a man rushed by, clearly in pursuit. A clown, you thought, eyes now wide. A clown with a green wig cap adorned with curly fake hair and ridiculously big shoes. It must make his steps that much harder. How did he manage to keep up, you wondered.

“Hey, stop them!” the clown shouted. But the boys were shouting back profanities and crossed the road. The clown was nearly hit twice by a car as he followed. One glance around you told you that no one had bothered to run after them. Though some people stood and watched, most seemed to ignore the weird scene. You didn’t hesitate a single moment, though, and ran.

It had been hard to cross the road, but once you were on the other side, you came to a halt and your eyes darted from side to side. Where had they gone to? Then you spotted the clown as his feet slipped from the pavement and he caught himself with his hands. He’d nearly fallen but scrambled up to his feet again before he dashed into one of the alleys. He disappeared out of sight, but you had memorized the spot and made your way over to it as swiftly as you could.

At the entrance of the alleyway, you stood still to observe something you had hoped you would never see. Five teenagers stood huddled around the clown. His bright yellow sign lay scattered upon the floor, broken as if smashed against something. The man was quiet but conscious. You could see how he tried to shield his body from the incoming blows. And your mind went haywire.

You didn’t even register how you moved in on the boys, you suddenly just stood behind them. One high kick was enough to hit the first one on his shoulder. The tall teenager turned around, clearly confused, but you gave him little time to retaliate. Instead, he met your fist eye-first, and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the clown’s shivering frame.

At this point, the others boys had noticed your presence and they stopped their assault on the man. Instead, they turned to you. Eyes all dark and glowering, teeth shown. Like rabid dogs, you thought. But there was no time for thinking now.

You held your arms up in front of your face, hands curled into fists. A little hop to your step as you sprung side to side like you’d seen boxers do on the television.

“How about it, boys?” you whispered. You had wanted to sound cool, but something in your voice broke. It didn’t come out sad though, just a little husky. The boy whom you had dubbed their leader because he was taller and seemed to be the one to take initiative took a step closer to you. His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Leave the clown alone,” you demanded, then ducked when the anticipated attack struck you right after. The boy’s knee was up to hit your chest, but you had seen it coming and darted out of its way. A fist was launched at your face, but either by sheer luck or good reactional skills, you managed to block it with your arms.

The move seemed to surprise the boy as much as it did you, because he took a second to recover before he tried to hit you again.

The others boys now joined in, the clown forgotten behind them. They inched closer to you with fists raised until a second boy launched himself at you, and all of a sudden, hands and legs were swung in your direction like a flurry.

You didn’t manage to dodge all of the blows, but you made a lucky move when you crouched down to avoid them, then kicked out your leg. Your foot hit an ankle, and one of the boys fell, taking the boy next to him with him by accident. With two down, you sprung up again and hurdled yourself at one of the remaining three. It was one of the smaller ones, an easier target. You tackled him to the floor in a tight hug, then let go of him the moment he lay down. Seated on top of him, you smashed your fist against his cheek, a blow that pushed his head into the dirt and the crumbling asphalt below. Then you moved off of him.

Just in time, it seemed. The two boys who still stood rushed forward to you. In a fit of panic, you reached next to you. The road was littered with garbage that had been torn from the many uncollected garbage bags, and your hand closed around something sharp. What the hell was it?

It didn’t matter. This was your life you were concerned about. With eyes closed, you flung the sharp object away from you, only to hear a gasp come from the boys. Had you hit one of them?

But when you opened your eyes, you saw they were unharmed. But they were gasping at something, eyes raised to the sky. You looked up to see your shot had cut one of the electricity cables that hung above the alley. The cable dangled dangerously above your heads, a crackling sound and sparks erupted from the cut end.

“Come on,” one of the boys then shouted, “Let’s go, let’s go!” The boy still on the ground jumped up to his feet. Blood seeped from a gash on his cheek. He threw you an accusing glare, but made no comment, before he turned away from you and the dangling electricity cable, then ran off.

The other boys followed until you were left alone in the alley. Alone apart from the shivering clown.

You ignored the cable above your head, as you did the shouts of someone in one of the apartments who was cursing that their television had stopped working. Hurriedly, you crawled over to the hunched form of the man, and then slowly bent over him. He kept his hands between his legs. Must have taken a few hard kicks to the balls, you thought. You felt pity for him.

If only you could have chased them off earlier. If only you could have spared him this fate.

“Hey,” you carefully started, your hand on the man’s shoulder. He didn’t shrug your hand away, but he did flinch when you first touched him. But then, as he heard your voice, his eyes opened and he looked up at you. Your heart nearly stopped beating, because the eyes that locked with yours were the brightest green you had ever seen. So pretty. Accentuated by the clown’s makeup and his hair, certainly, but ever so beautiful.

You could have asked him then if he was okay, but that would have been a superfluous question. Of course he wasn’t. He was beaten up, and bruised, his sign shattered. There was nothing you could do to help his bruises, you knew that. But perhaps there was a chance to bring him comfort, to soften those mental wounds he must have received so they wouldn’t scar as badly.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, again. Your hand slid to the man’s white-painted cheek.

He smiled.

2.

You’d nearly forgotten the man you had once saved. The mysterious clown who hadn’t given you his name and hadn’t accepted any offers to help him. It had been as if he was scared of you. The way his shoulders raised when you spoke to him and how he avoided looking into your eyes. You had caught him looking at you though. Whenever you looked away his eyes would be upon you, and there’d be awe within them. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real.

But that was months ago.

When you met him again, you were on your way home. This particular street led you past a community college building, a place where young men often loitered about, hands in their pockets, leering at you when you passed by. You’d gotten used to the whistles and the comments. You thought it was normal until one of your fellow female students pointed out that they never called after her.

Passing this street didn’t always make you feel safe, so when you were particularly tired, you’d go the long way around to the train station. But today, you wanted to take the shortcut. A choice you instantly regretted.

“Oi, pretty girl,” one of the boys wearing a hoodie, hands in his pockets like they usually had, shouted the moment he saw you. He came heading your way, a weird lilt to his step. You instantly knew this wasn’t going to be okay. “Oi, come here,” he said.

Behind him, a friend of his emerged out of the shadows of the building. A crooked smile upon his face and an evil glint in his eyes. “I think you have a little time for us, don’t you?” the boy said.

Two more friends emerged and you quickly scanned the area. Somehow, you were all alone. No other students were behind you, just in front, but they had just rounded the corner and were long gone.

The streets seemed empty as it was already getting late. The setting sun shone over the street tiles, making them shimmer. With hands flexed, you made to turn around, but the first boy managed to corner you.

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” he said. You wrinkled your nose in disgust when you saw he had grabbed you by the arm. His grip was tight and unpleasant. You started to feel scared for being surrounded by these young men who clearly wanted a thing from you that you were unwilling to give them. “Here, baby, don’t be difficult. Now, you’re gonna be good to me and my friends?”

You flinched, certain of one thing. You were not going to make this easy for them.

With as much strength as you could muster, you pulled your arm back sharply. An attempt to bring your arm back to your belly, but the boy’s hand remained attached. It hadn’t worked.

With gritted teeth, you flung your knee up to aim at either his chest or his balls. You hoped to hit the latter. But once again the boy was too swift. He used your own arm to block the attack, which hurt darn much. You winced and bit back a cry at the pain you felt. Stupid, you thought. You probably had bruised your own arm.

Another attempt from you to twist out his hands, but the second boy gripped your shoulders from behind and forced your body still. You cursed, loudly. “Let go of me,” you said as loudly as you could. “Let go, or I’ll scream.”

This threat instantly triggered a third boy to cover your lips with his palm. “You try and fight back bitch, and we’ll fuck your cunt into a bloody mess.”

With eyes wide of shock, because how dare they scold and denigrate you like this? You noticed how the four of them started to drag you into the narrow alley next to the building. An alley, you knew, would mean the end of it. Because how many people passed this street? And how many of them would think to look in that alley on their way? Your chances to escape would be zero to none.

No, your mind screamed. No, this can’t be how it goes. This can’t happen to me.

You struggled with all your might, even if it were hardly possible to move within their arms. All it earned you was a hard whack against the head, and a kick against your shin. More bruises, you thought, panicking. You had to get out.

Just before they could pull you into the alley, you had the mind to bite the boy whose arm had circled around your shoulders and who covered your mouth in the hand. He cried out. Then suddenly his hands were gone, and he fell face-first next to you. His head inside the alley. His body was limp.

You looked at him confused. Had your bite done that? But then a second boy, this time to your other side, called out. A high-pitched yell of pain. Arms flailing, he fell down to the ground as well, leaving only the two boys behind your back.

Their hands let go of you, and finally you were able to turn around. There they stood, both boys with their backs turned to you. Their attention all upon a new man who had appeared behind them. A man in a red suit, stylish, if not for the many spots upon it. Had he spilled coffee, you wondered at first. But no, it would have been a lot of coffee. The spatters were too many and too far apart. Then what could it be?

The man stood face down, a cigarette held between his lips and fingers, the tip glowing. You could not see his face, but something about his posture seemed familiar. Like a distant memory was awoken upon the sight of him. You’d seen this man before, but where?

His other hand rested inside his pants pocket, lazily, elbow hooked. Nothing about him indicated what had just been done, so you didn’t notice it at first. Not until he blew a small cloud while the cigarette left his lips, and he finally looked up at you all. You saw the paleness of his face. Not natural, but made by makeup. Familiar, you thought again. But it couldn’t be him, could it? The blue triangles near his eyes. The green tangled hair.

This man was dressed as a clown, you realized. A clown you’d seen pictures of before on the television, and on the wanted posters all around the city. A villain recently sought after by Wayne and the authorities.

The Joker.

No wonder you had thought you recognized him. A man known to be ruthless. Cold needles spread all over your spine and you froze up with fear. You knew you had to go, to escape, to run fast and as far as you could before he ended your life like had the lives of so many others. His reasons were often left unknown. Not just Wayne’s men had been murdered, dozens more.

But then your eyes turned to the two boys on the floor and you realized the clown must have a gun. Red had started to spread, leaking from the chests of the boys down onto the street tiles below. Their clothes were stained with the red liquid that was now rapidly spreading.

They’d been shot.

Then the stains on the clown’s suit weren’t made by coffee at all. They were blood as well.

You looked up again in fear, eyes wide. But the Joker’s gaze was not upon you. It was fixed firmly upon the boys in front of you. His hand rested lazily in the pocket of his red pants. Probably where he is hiding the gun, you mused.

“I think you have something of mine there,” was all Joker needed to say for the boys in front of you to start stumbling backward. What was it? You wondered. What did they have? What had you found yourself entangled in? Their screams echoed throughout the alley as they turned on their heels to run. They made it past you, into the narrow street, but only made it in several paces before one by one, they were shot in the back. Cowardly, you thought, but they oh-so deserved it for what they had tried to do to you.

They fell forward, their bodies slumped. You didn’t know if they were instantly dead, or if their life was slowly slipping away from them. You didn’t care to watch. Instead, you turned your head back to the Clown Prince of Crime, a title given to him by the most ruthless and the most influential of all men in Gotham.

The Joker stood where he had been standing. The only change was his now raised arm, a smoking gun aimed at where the boys once had run. Your heart nearly stopped of fear, and you hardly dared to keep your eyes upon him. Surely, he would shoot you next. Whatever this was, whatever this had been, he would probably assume you were part of the group. Had they stolen something from him? Did he want it back enough to kill them for it? Why should he spare you?

With your eyes averted, nearly closed while you trembled in fear, you heard his steps upon the tiled street. His soles slipped upon the glistening tiles, still wet from the rain earlier today, before the sun had started to peek through the clouds.

You heard how he walked towards you, taking his time, a cigarette in his hand, still burning. Then he brought it to his lips and took a long drag before he exhaled slowly. Little clouds of white swirled up from his lips to disappear into the early summer sky while he tilted your head with one finger, forcing you to lock eyes with his own.

They were the purest green you had ever seen. It was within that instant that you recognized him as the clown whose life you had once saved. Eyes that had once been filled with terror and disbelief, but had been ever so green that they had drawn you in. Eyes that had once looked at you as if he could not believe you were real. The gaze in them was the same. That look that told you he had a hard time believing that you existed.

But why?

This man had once been hunched over, frightened for his life, trembling. But now it was you who was in his place. And something in his gaze softened. You saw the recognition in his eyes and thought he must have spotted yours.

His fingers upon your chin tightened. The way he studied you while he moved your face with his hand, tilting it from side to side as he took you in the sight of you, made something in his eyes change. His gaze became more intense, darker.

Then his head dipped forward and his lips were planted against yours. The taste of bitter smoke and something unique to him invaded your senses. It felt pleasant. Unexpected, but heartwarming. A butterfly rose in your chest and wanted to fly, hot flames licked the insides of your belly. And this man had done all that with just one kiss.

And then he withdrew, but his eyes remained focused upon your lips. As if he was hungry for more, a craving you shared with him. He seemed to be catching his breath, his chest moved rapidly up and down, while his fingers finally slid free from your face so he could place his hands on your hips. You placed your hands on his chest and looked up at him, lips parted in a silent sigh, a quiet invitation for him to kiss your lips again. The Clown Prince of Crime happened to be your very own clown.

“I missed you, doll,” he murmured, voice hoarse and low. He had no idea how much you had missed him. "I think you'd be a lot safer in my arms, don't you?" he hummed, and you didn't think to go against him.

The newspapers reported you missing the very next day.

[based--ball]

I was so tempted to ask ↻FLIP FLOP and/or ✄ DVD BONUS for "Honey, everything we need" but I know you're working on your romansen fic and I don't want to derail you by asking for more of this story just because I'm greedy :3

So instead, I want to ask ♡ SMALL THINGS and ✑ PROCESSING for that fic :)

I'll also ask ✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

hi steph!!! this is very long so it's under the read more:

for the fic Honey, everything we need (is on the other side of this feeling)

♡ SMALL THINGS: pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favorite minor detail from it!

I remain obsessed with my stupid LCBO strike/they think the Beer Store is fake thing because it’s so funny to me and probably means nothing to the vast majority of everyone. Also this is not my favourite really but it’s ridiculous: I managed to get the word “tactical” into a sex scene and I am very proud of this.

✑ PROCESSING: pick a fic and I’ll tell you what it was like to write it!

This fic took me something like 5 months to write. (I obviously wasn’t working on it constantly, but I was thinking about it pretty much all the way through). 

I started writing in April, and the first section (This was pretty much the opposite of how it usually went for him, Davis realized. [...] Dating apps were more of the same, anyway, if not worse. ) really just came out of my head fully-formed, and then I left it entirely until July because I didn't know where to go from there. 

Then (inspired by the irl LCBO strike and me thinking how funny it might be if they thought the beer store was fake) I wrote the whole section about Davis imagining getting with Ernie in all these different drunk scenarios, and how he never imagined having Ernie like this sober for the first time.

After that, I added the little spring training backstory section. I was originally considering adding a few more flashback bits, but I decided that I didn’t feel like it and that it wouldn’t add as much as I thought, plus I couldn’t think of all that many that I felt like I could write well. Maybe one day I will write one for your bonus scene? Don't hold me to that but I will consider.

I pretty much just kept going from there. I almost ended it like 2000 words before I actually ended it. I am not very confident in my porn-writing skills so I almost just cut it with them on the couch. I did my “how does penis work???” googling and also got egged on by horny rpfers and decided that sure. I can write a sex scene. Whatever. 

And then. I realized hey. I'm already writing a (potentially dubious) sex scene here. How about I get some Davis Schneider tits in here. And then that was fun and glorious.

And then it was done and I was deeply concerned about the sex scene making any sense so I decided to solve this by getting 2 other lesbians to proof-read my gay man sex.

And then I posted it and have been dreaming of a Davis Schneider tit fic sequel ever since. It will happen. One day.

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

I don’t really know, actually. I’m choosing to disregard the super short + stupid fics because those are kind of in a different category to me (I sure can write 200 words of barely-proof-read bullshit in 45 minutes but that's not really comparable to a fic I had an actual idea for and cared about it being good if that makes sense). 

5 Times the Blue Jays were Blue Gays: Number 1 Will Shock You! was pretty easy to write. A lot of the ideas came from bouncing ideas around with the fanficcers in the blue jays babes server (ty!) and then I just wrote a silly little scenario pretty quickly. I was considering it off and on for a while, but when I was actually working on it it was fun and easy. The formatting took me a while to decide on, but it wasn’t hard, it was just not quick.

there's stardust in my head was hard at first and then got easy. It just wasn’t working at all and it was annoying me a lot and I was worried about not finishing it in time. And then I rewrote everything in past tense and then it was fine and I was able to keep writing and it ended up really fun and cute (I’m complimenting myself about my own fic but shh). I have no idea why the present tense specifically was getting in my way so much, but for some reason it was, and then after that it was so much easier!

You've Got a Boatload of Nerve was hard because it was the 2nd fic that I wrote ever and I really just did not know what I was doing. Same with my first fic actually, but that one I think was a bit less ambitious. (I almost don't want to link this one but oh well. I wrote it and it is not my best work but it was fun to make Daulton Varsho uncharacteristically pathetic lol)

[skzddicted]

Hellaur, this is my first ever request. Can you write a fic about bangchan/ han jisung/ Minho/ changbin comforting sad/hopeless reader? Im having a very hard time keeping up my grades, I've been studying for 14 hrs everyday just to ruin my most important exam. All my friends seem to do well when they're not even working as hard as me. I'm ready to study more but I keep losing hope. Idk what to do, I'm losing hope for getting into my dream University T T. Thank you so much bestie, for listening to me.

hii love i’m SO so sorry this took ages i rewrote this so many times with so many different scenarios until i was able to decide on one,,,i hope you enjoy this!! also about your exams, i can’t quite say i’ve been in your place but i can imagine what it’s like,,, maybe try to give your brain a break instead of studying even harder bcs sometimes that just exhausts you and you’ll burn out and this won’t do you any good!! please take care of yourself and i’ll be rooting for you, you can make it!!♡

[1:05pm]

genre: hs au, comfort

warnings: failure (not sure if i should put this here but just in case), use of “baby” platonically

minho+3racha x reader (friendgroup/platonic)

pls reblog if you enjoyed!!<3

the hallways were full of students with various emotions displayed on their faces. 

some were jumping up and down and cheering excitedly, while, oppositely, some others looked upset and confused, a few were crying even, and some just looked like they simply did not care.

it was results day for the midterm exams you took two weeks ago.

your friends minho, chan, changbin and jisung had already checked their results on the board that was hung up and were now gathered in front of the main entrance, waiting for you to come out; however, you were a nervous wreck in the restroom trying to calm down and build up the courage to go and look at your results, trying to convince yourself that it can’t be that bad.

after what felt like an eternity of deep breaths and positive affirming, you stepped out into the crowded hallways, making your way to the boards. as soon as you got to them you started searching for your name.

and that’s when your heart dropped.

oh.

it was even worse than you had expected…?

you were on the verge of tears, hopelessness creeping up on you. you had done everything you could and yet it was still not enough. so many people who were putting less effort than you were doing much better, so why was it so hard for you? 

with your head hung low, you started walking towards the exit wanting to do nothing but to go home and drown in your tears right now. well, that was until you heard your name being called as you were walking out of the building. 

looking up you could see jisung, one of your best friends, practically running towards you, the rest of your friends following suit behind him.

“y/n, i passed!” he nearly yelled in your ears, while shaking you by your shoulders.

"congrats, ji” you sent him a small smile; you were genuinely happy for him but your own grades were making it hard for you to match his excitement.

multiple ‘hey’s’ from the other three boys sounded as they got closer, making you lift your hand for a little wave in response, “hi.”. and even through just a little greeting, they could already tell your mood was off.

“y/n what’s wrong? is it your results?” minho was the first one to ask, to which, you gave him a nod, feeling your tears starting to roll down your cheeks. 

“oh, baby” jisung embraced you in a tight hug.

“all my efforts were for nothing, i spent weeks studying only for this to be the outcome.” you sobbed out. 

“it’s okay baby, it happens sometimes.” chan tries to sooth you, “exactly, plus it’s not like this is the end for you, we still have finals and we’ll prepare well together for those, okay?” changbin adds.

“oh, don’t even remind me,” you chuckled a little, lifting your tear stained face from jisung’s chest. “yup, we don’t wanna hear nothing about school or any exams for this whole break.” minho chimed “now, how about we go get some food and go over to my place? remember? we planned a sleepover?” 

right… there was something about a sleepover chan had texted you yesterday. you nodded and soon the four of you were running to catch the bus to your favorite food place.

masterlist

[darkpoisonouslove]

A Perfect Mate

Summary: Griffin and Valtor are playing chess but one game seems insufficient to hold their attention. Secure in his victory, Valtor decides to to indulge in their side bet and draw things out. How can that be a mistake? Part 3 of Sparks of Life.

Originally published on 05-01-2020 but I rewrote all of it and I may or may not have kept 5 sentences from the original.

Probably requires some basic understanding of chess pieces and their organization on the board for optimal reading experience. Set before parts 1 and 2 but can be read on its own.

Griffin's hand was resting on the small table next to the chessboard–there was barely enough space left for a cup of tea that she never brought to a game anyway–her fingers almost pressed into it. She was keeping them still, all the action locked behind her eyes where it kept Valtor guessing what each little gasp and tilt of her head meant.

It was all an exercise in vanity regardless. Whatever her next dozen moves, he'd already accounted for them all. She liked to pawn her queen finding new ways to bait him out of all his parallel-running strategies or have her knights invading his part of the board so boldly that had they been real people, she would've been risking their lives just to spite him. It was all nothing more than a setup for her brilliance and smile to both shine so he allowed it. The only time she was more gorgeous than with victory setting her eyes ablaze and curving her lips like there were spells hanging from them was when he had her writhing in bliss, not a single thought spared to the sounds streaming from her mouth. She could as well accidentally summon a demon for all they knew. A mistake that had to concern her less than letting him play with the white pieces.

"Did you realize that you might as well just wave the white flag now?" Griffin gave an uncanny response to his thoughts. And then another one as she chose to capture his pawn instead of trading her queen for a knight or sacrificing it to lure his rook out of her back yard.

It left it a lonely black speck right in the path of his bishop, ready for the taking. Her words were the only card she had left up her sleeve. An underhanded distraction he could turn on her with ease but not before giving her a last chance at a graceful defeat. An olive branch extended to her that she'd slap away and seal her fate.

"The night is still young." He took the black queen off the board and left it in his right corner of the table, Griffin's eyes following the path of the symbol of her power he'd just stripped her of. The thought sizzled in his mind like a lit fuse. "If you surrender now, I could be persuaded to indulge you in a rematch before taking my victory party to bed."

Griffin locked eyes with him. "I'd love for you to take me to bed."

"Then put this lost cause out of its misery," his fingers slid slowly over the wood of the centerpiece he'd robbed her of, stroking it lazily. "I'm afraid I can't do anything for either of us until you take it off my hands."

Her gaze never left his but she'd seen through the words and the gesture, pulling forward the memories of the wonders he could do for her just with his fingers. Just like his eyes didn't have to leave hers for his mind to latch onto the loud hitch in her breathing.

"Gladly," she drawled out, her fingers gliding down the side of her own bishop and then back up before closing around it. She moved to capture another one of his pawns.

He raised an eyebrow. He didn't even have to look at the board to make the move he'd planned for this scenario. The pieces were set in his mind just like the image of pinning her to the bed and holding her hips down until she cried from the relentlessness of his tongue between her thighs. He'd hunt down as many orgasms from her as the minutes she stole from him and herself that they could spend conquering the heights of ecstasy hand in hand if she yielded.

Her want took over her pupils and had them seize up the amber of her irises. She'd sink her teeth in him if she could from all the way across the table and he'd let her as soon as he was straddling her and had her whimpering in pleasure and moaning his name.

"I just have to make sure you're aware of the power balance," Griffin snatched yet another one of his pawns away, leaving him with only half of their initial count. Most of his other pieces were still on the board, though. "The loser will have to do as his queen pleases for the rest of the night," she lined up the pawns like a guard behind which she stored what she'd captured from his artillery.

It made for a nice little display. Emphasis on the little.

"You mean this queen?" he once more picked up the elegant black chess piece that perfectly represented Griffin's place in life – in his hands.

The last time they'd raised the stakes this high, she'd suffered a sound defeat. He'd made her strip for him and feel every agonizing inch of fabric drag over her skin for minutes on end while he'd talked about how his lips and fingertips would have felt instead. Her eyes had been welling up with tears of frustration by the time he'd finished his torment and she'd spilled them all when he'd drawn out her orgasm into another one and then another and then another that had choked her voice and left her body screaming. He'd done his job of erasing sense from her world to perfection if she was ready to bet her agency again. Especially with the odds already stacked against her. And he was about to fix them further in his favor.

"I will take your bet," he set down the queen to pick up his knight.

Her eyes followed every motion as he threatened the bishop she'd just used to steal his pawn and set up his next move.

"On condition that every time someone captures a piece, the opponent has to reveal some more skin. Whoever loses, strips all of her remaining clothes as soon as she gets up from her chair."

"Bold choice of words," Griffin snipped but her teeth worried her bottom lip instantly to undermine her tone.

He'd reached into her mind and pulled forth the memories of the fate she'd doomed herself to just like he used strands of her hair to play her voice like a violin. His hand was in her chest, her heart clasped in it just like her pride was between his teeth. A single step back would leave her with bite marks running through her mind and deep in her tender flesh.

"I'm in," Griffin backed up her bishop with her knight. It was his choice whether to trade.

He had strategies for either option but all that was flashing in front of his eyes were images of her arching her back off the mattress to push her breasts closer into the inviting warmth of his skin and mouth. He had to restrain himself from licking his lips but his gaze skidded off the board and right to Griffin's cleavage. Concealed by a silken scarf that had to be a cherished gift for her to actually put it on. Probably from one of the twins or Faragonda. He never would have purchased for her something so offensively tasteless, nor would he have forgotten the joy on her lips and the gratitude in her touch with which she met every one of his carefully deliberated gifts to her.

"I'd better start seeing skin instead of that hate crime around your neck," Valtor leaned forward and knocked her bishop out of the way with his knight, holding her gaze as he did so.

Her composure in the face of his brutish action stirred his own desire along. He was growing hard at the image of tracing his erection over her readily parted lips instead of having them pressed together in purposeful indifference. And then pulling away to leave her craving a taste long after he'd left her spent and satisfied in every other way.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" Griffin arched an eyebrow his way dramatically to make her words echo like whiplash in his very bones. "You should have learned by now that I do everything for your benefit."

His fingers twitched around the bishop he'd reunited with her other captured pieces. He had to suppress the same impulse in his hips. It would have pushed his cock right down her throat had he had her in the desired position.

He had the patience and presence of mind to bring her to her knees. She was too eager to pace herself, ended up choking and sputtering in a perfect cover for his less conspicuous gasps and curses. It was impossible to tell whether she'd gagged due to the bucking of his hips or his fingers in her hair drawing out loud moans around his cock in the back of her throat. At the end of the day, having her lips wrapped around his erection and melting away anything that wasn't her wrangled more surrender from her than from him.

"I'm generous enough to grant you the opportunity to be selfish for once then," he leaned back and entwined his fingers, the embodiment of self-possession.

Griffin held up her left hand and took off her wedding band. She reached over the table and dropped it around the bishop he'd taken as if to reclaim her possession over it while denying his power over her.

He had to clench his teeth together to make sure his jaw didn't drop at her audacity.

"I wasn't sure you were thinking straight so I had to play it safe," Griffin coyly interrupted the protest exploding in his chest as she reached for his knight. A grin broke out on her face as her own knight took its place on the board and his found its way behind the wall of white pawns she'd built.

He should have been more careful with his wording, he'd give her that. He hadn't specified that they had to take off clothes and had allowed to be outsmarted through their own marriage. But the lack of specifics went both ways.

He opened the top two buttons of his shirt to spite her in return before his fingers snatched the wedding band from where she'd abandoned it. He pocketed it jealously, the weight of it over his heart quelling none of the fire in his blood. Even he wouldn't have stooped so low as to weaponize their vows to each other. He'd have to compel whole new ones from her trembling lips later.

"I've proven myself to be a man of my word many times, Griffin, and I will do it yet again."

A hitch in her breath was all the pause she took before offering a generously salacious, "I can't wait."

Unconditional want had taken over her eyes obscuring their normal brightness with a thick blanket of hunger. The only thing that could conceal it were her eyelids dropping on it to block out anything that could spoil the pleasure he'd make her thighs quiver with. The only chance he had to get a good enough look at it to recapture it later in a painting was to prolong the game.

He took one of her pawns in a deviation from his main strategy. She was worth more than the minimal risk of an already practically-won game.

Griffin took off her scarf, giving him a perfect view of her cleavage, and tied it around his wrist.

He allowed it to humor her. It would be the perfect opportunity to pay her back for daring to remove her wedding band if he used it to comply with the rules of their strip chess. It could very well go with the added bonus of putting her off the idea of ever wearing it again.

"This is just one of many promises for later," Griffin surprised him instead, her voice reminding him of a hunting lioness. It was quiet and prowling deeper into his mind which made it all the more dangerous.

The look in her eyes would have moved him even if he'd been made of stone. She was clear that the only thing keeping her from sinking her teeth in him was the chessboard with both their pride clashing on it. As soon as it was out of the way she'd be closer than physically possible, underneath his skin where she belonged. The more flesh she revealed, the more aware of that fact she made him.

Defying his expectations, she unbuttoned her whole shirt in one go, giving him a spectacular view of her bra underneath, filled out so perfectly by her breasts. The lace didn't leave much to the imagination which lagged behind along with his captivated attention. By the time Griffin slid one of the straps down her shoulder upon the capture of her rook he'd traced the same path with his gaze a million times. He could taste the softness of her skin under his tongue, his mind all consumed by memories.

It was easy for Griffin to avoid his poor attempts at cornering her when he was stuck in a past so close he could sink his fingers into it and yet just as distant as Griffin's defeat remained. She got her king out in the open where the opportunities for check were more but those for a mate were less when her excellent maneuvering backed up her crazy strategy. He couldn't have predicted such chaos in her moves or in his own.

"You seem deep in thought," Griffin's voice caressed his ears just before her foot brushed against his calf.

She gave him a knowing smirk that didn't leave her face even when he caught her ankle and pulled her foot in his lap causing her whole body to move forward in her chair. As if the access to her skin he had now was nothing in the face of the powerful distraction she'd already set in motion.

"Don't worry, you'll get to feel my skin all night long," she grinned despite the shiver running the whole length of her body.

"Something we can agree on," Valtor pressed his fingers in her calf just a touch harder to sear his heat into her instead of vice versa.

Feeling his way up to a sigh or–worse–a moan would hardly help his erection already straining against his pants but his only hope was to turn the tables on her and outdo her in distraction. It always worked like a charm, her lips falling open and her chest settling in the rhythm his fingers dictated. It had never occurred to him that he was only successful because she was more than happy to allow it.

She practically mewled – in the most unabashed, exaggerated manner that went straight to his cock. A curse slipped from his lips in turn to attest to her victory when he had no power over himself left, let alone over her.

His suspicions were only confirmed when one of her pawns made it all the way through the board and to the very last line of his territory so she could turn it into whatever piece she wanted. It'd never mattered that he'd had her queen in his grasp.

Griffin grabbed the black rook he'd claimed and placed it on the board. It was check and mate on the spot, his king was still lined up behind the last three remaining pawns he had with the only exit being blocked by her surviving bishop. She'd even given him a clue as to what she was planning on doing when she'd organized the white pieces she'd captured in much the same fashion.

"A queen has so much power that her greatest asset becomes the allure of taking her off the board," Griffin leaned on the table on her elbows, the victory that had only been in her eyes before now unfolding around them.

He'd fallen for her trap, letting her weave it around him deftly, propping himself further into the image of her loss she'd tempted him with. She'd been the one bringing him down all along and he'd been her willing accomplice. Too willing for his own good perhaps.

"Off with his clothes," Griffin reached over the board and knocked his king off of it, the sound of it hitting the table shattering none of her spell on him. If anything, it only made it stronger.

He grabbed her hand and slipped her wedding band in its rightful place. "If you ever take it off again-"

His growl didn't so much as startle her, her lips curling in a smirk when the sound died in his throat at the scrape of her nails at his wrist. Her fingertips slipped under the scarf still tied around it and pried it loose until it came away, clutched in her hand. He'd never taken it off, planning on binding her wrists together with it before making her beg for respite from the pleasure he'd have overwhelmed her with.

"Told you it was a promise for later," Griffin motioned for him to join her on her side of the table.

Bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss forced her closer to the edge of her seat but she was the one having a hold on him. He should have let go of her if he'd wanted to keep from being steered like she'd enchanted his free will away.

Griffin let him pull her to her feet only to loop the scarf around his neck. She made the knot just tight enough to interfere with his normal breathing and have him gasping for her before he'd even stripped. Her lips were lured to his, not to steal his breath but to give him hers.

He leaned into her, caging her in against the table but her spine was unyielding. Before he could form a coherent enough thought to reach for her bra and discard it, her fingers teased over his abs. The downward path they trailed to his belt left his mind straining to catch up. His heartbeat rushed to meet her teeth where they sank into his lip, his hips already pushing into her proximity. He was all hers.

[allylikethecat]

1, 3, 75 (Rid Me Of The Blues) for the writer asks!!

Thank you SO MUCH for sending this ask! I love answering question asks and I also LOVE chatting about my fics so this is like best case scenario for me! Thank you so very much!! 🥰 If anyone else wants to send in some Get to Know Your Fic Writer Asks the list can be found HERE.

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

I don't really have a preference! For me a one-shot vs a multi chapter fic depends on the story I'm trying to tell. Some of my oneshots, for example (Sometimes) my beta at the time had urged me to post as two or three chapters, but I decided I liked the way it flowed better as a oneshot. Meanwhile, It's Christmas (So This is Gonna Be a Nightmare) was originally supposed to be a oneshot that then evolved into a chaptered fic.

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

Usually, I start with a detailed summary of everything that I want to happen in the fic (kind of like a written down version of what I would verbally ramble to my friend) Once I have that little summery, I then start working on my outline and highlight the key things that I want to happen / specific scenes I want to include. From there I divide that into rough chapters and get to work writing! Some of my outlines are more detailed than others and that fully helps writing go faster, other times my outlines are more vague / have evolved so much that chapters take longer because I have to come up with more plot points / connect more things on the fly. Once I have usually the first two chapters finished, I start posting on AO3! For example On a Friday and All The King's Horses have very detailed outlines that I have stuck to, therefore writing those chapters is really easy and quick, since I know exactly what's going to happen. Make Way for Ducklings takes a little longer because that outline has been revised so many times I'm basically winging it at this point!

75. What scene in [Rid Me of the Blues] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it?  There were two scenes that took me a long time to write. The first was the breakup scene in Chapter 6. I made myself really sad working on it, and it went through many rewrites, because obviously we know that Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George were going to get back together eventually, so I didn't want to absolutely destroy the character of Fictional!George and I wanted to make it clear that he felt like he was out of options, his love for Fictional!Matty was killing them both and breaking up was the only option. With that scene also primarily being from unreliable narrator Fictional!Matty's point of view, I felt like I was toeing a very thin line. It was the big turning point in the fic and I wanted to make sure I did it justice, and was able to portray it the way I saw in my head. I am very pleased with how it turned out though! The other scene that took a long time to write as the scene in Chapter 7 when Fictional!Matty goes back to his childhood home to reconcile with Fictional!Denise. The bit where he was on the train was one of the very first scenes I wrote for the entire fic, and connecting it back to him actually going home and seeing Fictional!Denise was a challenge for me, because it felt very delicate and emotionally charged. Again, that's another one that I ended up really happy with, and even though I probably rewrote the entire later three fourths of the chapter six or seven times, I'm very pleased with the final outcome. Man I just love this fic in general and could talk about it for hours. Thank you so much for still caring about her! 🩵

Thank you so much for indulging me and sending in this ask! I love ask game situations and am so grateful any time anyone sends me one! If anyone else wants to send me some Get to Know Your Fic Writer questions the list can be found HERE! I hope you have a lovely evening and a great rest of your week!

❤️ Ally

[h50europe]

Why the myth about Steve's PTSD doesn't add up and other inconsistencies

In the last few episodes of H50, PL tried to sell us a mentally broken Steve suffering from PTSD. Only the whole thing came a bit too late. The clip you see is from season 4 and ended up - no, not in the series - but somewhere on the floor of PL's editing room. And why? after Kurtzman and Orci departed, along with their writers, PL took the helm and started turning Steve into a super-soldier. He stylized him into something that wasn't meant to be. Instead of developing the characters, PL began to incorporate more and more hair-raising action sequences into the series and then let Steve fight on the front lines. There was no mention of Steve's mental state, and a lot was explained by PL with: it just happened "offscreen." Yeah, sure. PL can't create a decent character. He can only produce stereotypes and one-dimensional beings. Like Adam. What potential would that character have had had he been turned into Five-0's antagonist? But no. So his role remained diffuse and monotonous. Sometimes even tragicomical.

Back to Steve. When SEAL Team started on CBS, PL also lapsed into SEAL mania. If someone who writes fanfiction were to produce as much garbage as this man did, he would be chased away from every writers' platform in disgrace. PL's Super SEAL also had to rescue his team members from a blazing inferno. Not man by man, no, he flew a helicopter right into the danger zone and lifted a whole cabin out of the burning jungle. If lunacy had a name, it would be PL. While the action became more and more exaggerated and unrealistic, the same happened to the protagonists. After the departure of Daniel Dae Kim and Grace Park, PL completely lost his mind. And please, don't blame the writers for the nonsense that was thrown at you. A series stands and falls with the showrunner. He dictates what he wants and passes it on to his staff.

And so, lovable Steve became a soulless robot who only showed feelings here and there. Danny diminished more and more into a sidekick. McDanno became a ship that drifted anchorless through a stormy sea and threatened to capsize again and again. From season 8, it became a reboot of the reboot. PL tried an ensemble show and failed more than miserably. Often the actors just stood around bored. At least that was the impression. The only highlight was episode 8.10. A feast for all McDanno fans. But even here, the outcome of "who shot Danny" was more than insubstantial.

Wait, there was something about SEALs... Oh, yes. Junior appeared on the scene and became Steve's lapdog. I really wondered when there was going to be an episode where he would fetch sticks for Steve. Luckily we had Eddie for that. And because he thought he was so clever, PL invented the episode speed dating. How many subplots can you squeeze into one episode at the same time? In some episodes, you couldn't even take a look at the bag of potato chips without losing the thread.

The case of the week became the yawn of the week. There were so many loose ends that PL then came up with something called retconning. That's what you do when you're no longer satisfied with what was once established in the series years ago, or it no longer fits. But PL went one step further and did the same with the characters. The more the series was dragged out, the more the characters deteriorated and became OOC. It means, often, they were not recognizable at all. And that's where we come to Steve. Because PL, in his desperation, didn't know what else he could do to Steve, and so he killed Joe White. He did it in such a cheesy way with a fake sunset that it made you sick.

Of course, one episode later, there had to be another gig of PL's favorite Barbie. He stuck a fake beard on poor Steve/Alex, so he couldn't even hug Danny/Scott properly. The episode also raised more questions than it answered any. And Steve? He still didn't suffer from PTSD, even though he had now lost Joe White and a fellow SEAL. Everyone is dropping like flies, except for Steve, who is standing like a rock. No matter what. He doesn't need in-depth talks with Danny, nor psychological care, nor any sleeping pills. No, he's doing great. He also opens a restaurant with Danny because apparently, the carguments are already getting on PL's nerves. Unfortunately, this plot device leads into nirvana. The idea was nice, but nobody thought it through to the end. And the merry-go-round continues. Until we get to season 10, where it gets even more absurd. Now PL is almost bombarding us with McDanno episodes, or at least it should seem that way. Oh well, he's already planning for season 11, so a new character has to come on board quickly. While in the beginning, Steve's mother, Doris, dies.

Alex was allowed to take on the subject. Of course, only under the strict eyes of PL. He then nullifies Alex's idea that Steve kills his mother. Because a good soldier and Super SEAL won't do that. Little does PL know. THAT could have been the opening of a PTSD scenario for Steve. However, apart from that, this episode would have had any potential for a multi-arc. Just imagine Steve chasing his mother across multiple episodes. Again, PL stepped in and butchered Alex's episode. You can really feel sorry for the guy. PL at his best or worse? He just can't help it. And then, on the very last meters of the series, he brings someone new, who is allowed to cruise around with Steve most of the time. Because Danny was kidnapped by Wo Fat's widow, PL also invented quite late to have some villain at his disposal. This wannabe mastermind must really have been living under a rock somewhere if she wasn't even mentioned by her husband or appeared earlier.

Because towards the end, PL obviously ran out not only of steam but also of ideas, everything culminated in a wildly illogical scenario. Steve has to live through a dramatic day with Eddie, who stands as a metaphor for Steve (as I said, PTSD was never a thing for Super SEAL), Danny bangs his brains out in a ladies' room with a complete stranger, who dies shortly after that in an accident with Danny's rental car. Apparently, there was no budget to turn the Camaro into scrap metal. Danny then also goes home alone, ignoring the incoming emergency vehicles. Everything remains open at the end of the episode. While Steve expresses his gratitude to Tani and Quinn and says, he would be just as lost as poor Eddie without the dog and all of them. The strange thing is that you never notice anything until that sentence. A few forced dialogues are supposed to make the drama visible, but they all happen way too late or are so poorly written that you miss them.

PL had decided early on to make Steve a Teflon hero. That also means he didn't need to put much substance into the character. Which you can clearly see if you compare the first three seasons to the rest of the series. But towards the end, PL wanted to turn the tide and forcefully rewrote Steve's past. There is a huge difference if you compare Steve from seasons 1 to 3 with Steve from season 10. It is only a sparse remnant of what made this character so great. This change in Steve's personality also affects his relationship with Danny. The witty, affectionate banter degenerates into a snappy, humorless bitch-fest that takes all the joy out of it.

The final two episodes could have been written for any other crime show. As mentioned, we have Cole, who even gets a book'em Cole from Steve, which can only be described as out of line. And it begs the question, was that what Lenkov originally had in mind? Danny out of the show and Cole in? Was the last episode, which mainly featured McCole, something of a test run? Did all the McDanno moments happen only to tear the two apart eventually? Was the real final scene the one where Steve and Catherine take Danny's coffin back to Jersey? Was Danny not supposed to survive? Was that the real reason Steve wanted to get out of Hawaii because he wanted to pay his respects to Danny? And would he really have returned to Hawaii later? Or would he have turned his back on Hawaii? To me, this ending is more plausible than what PL served us. Then, Steve handed over his credentials to Cole instead of Danny, his second in command. Honestly, you can't make the end of a series any more sloppy and dumber than that. And I won't even lose a word about the last 1:30 minutes because I think everything has already been said.

No PL, mission absolutely not accomplished. You created Teflon-Steve. You never wanted him to show any weakness. You turned him into a superhuman who can survive anything. Only to pull the rug out from under him on the last few meters to the finish line and spit on his legacy. How can you dismantle such a great series and its characters like you did? How much do you have to hate something to do that? In the final interviews, the showrunner didn't exactly cover himself in glory either. Everyone who grew up with the series from day one knows that its end was wrong on all the possible levels and that the showrunner is solely to blame for that. It takes a fair amount of egoism and carelessness to drive 10 years at full throttle against the wall. Not many people can do that. Whether you can be proud of that, however, I doubt.

My respect if you have made it this far. Each of you gets 10 extra brownie points for it.

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 9

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link! Chapter 6 Link! Chapter 7 Link! Chapter 8 Link!

Summary: As their time in the Calabash continues, the trio is face with three very different kinds of scenarios. Some simple, some subtle, all personal. Outside, the elders come to a realization and start to plan.

Warnings: Re-living emotional and physical abuse, psychological torment, panic attacks, blood and injury descriptions.

Author’s note: ... so it’s been... 3 weeks since I last updated this fic. Being honest, I wasn’t happy with what I had already written after re-reading it. I decided to take a week to let what I had left sit and come back to edit again, and then I realized I HATED what I wrote. So I took a second week off updating and completely rewrote everything I had in the fic so far, including this chapter. I think part of the problem was that, at the time I wrote these chapters a couple months ago, we didn’t have the special and the way I wrote the characters when the situation gets heavier felt off to me. Hopefully I have fixed this!

Chapter 9: Mix and Match

Another blink, another move, and Red Son was at the counter of his food stand that he opened for the Lunar New Year festival. Watching as potential customers passed by and looked over their options, still at the festival stall, still at the Lunar New Year festival where...

He blinked again and there was a flash of red and green flames burning in tandem, wrapped around each other and swirling around a figure clad in golden light.

When his eyes opened the visage was gone, not replaced by another change of scenery but back to same view of the festival he had seen before he closed his eyes. Another blink, and time seemed to have moved forward. There was a man standing before him and yelling and grabbing his frock and oh. He remembered this.

“Look, I wanna speak to the manager.”

It was different this time. Red hadn’t blinked, but it was like the world glitched around him in a strange kaleidoscope not unlike a broken computer monitor that made his eyes ache and skipped forward in time. Like someone was pressing the skip button on an online video and jumped over his own response. He watched as the man (was it the same man from the shoe store? he looked like him but he had only ever seen him once before so he couldn’t be sure) ran off after seeing his father, screaming into the crowd and drawing more than a few confused and concerned looks.

A skip. “Great!?” His father yelled with a growl. “I am the Demon Bull King! What would you have me be? The King of Street Food!?”

Red Son opened his mouth and there was another skip, he was right next to his father’s face when he growled at him. He’d made the mistake of mentioning the White Bone Spirit at that time, he remembered. His father had been growing more and more frustrated at this arrangement as the day had gone on and looking back on it now this was possibly the tipping point that made his father snap.

Why had he brought her up in the first place?

Another skip and Red’s head started to feel light, like he was on the verge of feeling like he would pass out but wasn’t quite there yet, and his father slammed his hands into the countertop. “Enough! I may have failed as a conqueror, but I will not be made a fool!”

Once again Red Son opened his mouth to speak and the world glitched again and he was being pulled from the food stall in the hand of his father now changed into his full size, grip almost too tight in his frustration but not tight enough to hurt him. Not physically, anyway. But Red couldn’t help feeling his chest tighten and grow cold despite the warmth that lived under his skin. He knew this was just the Calabash, knew this wasn’t really happening.

But he still knew what was to come. And regret filled his heart like ice water.

“We are going to have a talk, you and I.”

~

MK looked down at his hand, the one that had slammed into the Monkey King’s face still clenched into a fist both shaking and numb, and felt his breathing speed up more and more and his head hurt. His head felt like a steel vice was gripping it and yet like it was empty and too light at the same time, his vision blurred and he distantly heard the familiar voice of his mentor asking him if he was ok and no no he wasn’t ok he was dying.

Except he wasn’t dying, he knew that. He’d experienced this before, many times. A panic attack. He’d be fine, just needed some time to-

“Kid?”

That wasn’t Sun Wukong’s voice anymore.

MK raised his head and his eyes widened at the change in scenery. He was in Pigsy’s Noodles, not on a cliff side after training, and Pigsy had just come back from buying... something, he couldn’t remember what.

But what he did remember were the two people he had just taken his eyes off of.

“Look at us when we’re talking to you, brat!” A woman’s voice, one he hadn’t heard in person in almost two years, rang out before a hand reached out and grabbed a sizeable chunk of his hair and yanked his line of sight back to her.

“Hey, get your hands off my employee!” Pigsy yelled out, dropping whatever he had purchased to rush to MK’s side and grab the woman’s hand and pull it back flush with his head to keep her from pulling his hair out. “Who the hell do you think you are!?”

“Who do you think?” a voice that should have been less familiar now than it was.

His mother was gone. Where his father should have been stood Pigsy, no longer holding the hand in his hair but looking at him in disappointment with a shake of his head. MK looked up and...

Sun Wukong looked down at him with disdain. A look that he hadn’t even given to the Six-Eared Macaque when hey fought, one of pure malice and hatred and his hand went to yank his hair harder before the hand holding his own gripped claws of some kind into his wrist to force him to let go.

“You ungrateful little brat, why did I ever give you a chance to be my successor!” The Monkey King hissed and this wasn’t him this wasn’t his mentor this was not Sun Wukong MK repeated to himself as he felt his chest grow tighter again and he clenched his teeth with a scowl.

He turned behind him and where Pigsy should have been standing behind him, the one to catch him as he stumbled backward, stood someone else. Blurred in computer glitches and shaped with long robes and large ears and a fluffy tail and he could see that the shape of the person was smiling softly. Too softly.

The scenery had changed back to the cliff side and suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and MK jumped and whirled around and saw the once again kind face of Sun Wukong. Marred in worry and fear and confusion. MK flinched back without meaning to.

“Bud? MK? What’s going on?”

~

Nothing had happened since Mei arrived at the festival. Absolutely nothing.

After what happened not even a few minutes ago the dragon was on edge, looking over her shoulder at every movement. She kept her hands in her pockets now, not wanting to look at them. When she did she saw red, a red no one else seemed to be able to see on her, blood from the MK that she had sliced open. It marked her, not only her hands but her clothes and face where it had splattered on her.

She didn’t dare look at her sword.

Logically she knew that it wasn’t real, the Calabash was tricking her senses as best it could. But it felt real, it felt like she had truly killed her best friend on accident and his blood was on her like a warning for others to stay away.

No one did, though. They acted like she wasn’t covered in the evidence of a murder. Maybe that was an error or maybe that was the intent. To make her feel like she was slowly going to fear everyone learning her secret. A secret that wasn’t real. Lucky for Mei she had plenty of experience pretending that everything was alright and moving forward with a smile. More than enough experience.

Something far worse was coming for her though. She could feel it. After what Princess Jade Face had said to her? This couldn’t possibly be the plan by itself.

“You’re acting weird,” Pigsy said beside Sandy and looking up at her on large demon’s shoulder as they watched the parade procession. “You’re quieter than usual.”

“Just thinking about stuff,” she answered with a shrug, easy as saying the sky was blue. It wasn’t a lie, she was thinking about stuff. Just not what the real Pigsy would have expected, or even a construct Pigsy.

“Huh...” the construct Pigsy said with a shrug, turning back to the parade. It was odd though... He hadn’t once mentioned MK like he had during the real festiv- “MK would have liked to see this.” Calabash. Reading her mind. Of course. “I miss the kid...”

So that was the angle Jade Face was playing with right now. Something simple. Something easy. The calm before the storm.

“Yeah, he would have,” Mei sad softly, not looking at the blood still running down her shirt. She watched as a ghost of a wound opened on Pigsy’s back over his clothing, like a preview image of what was to come, choosing to ignore how it looked suspiciously like her sword. Choosing to ignore how the blood seeped over his back and dissipated before hitting the ground and how she could see bits of bone and viscera she should not know the look of in person.

She ignored.

~

“You bastard,” Sun Wukong said with a hiss in his voice, baring his teeth at the Demon Bull King. “You- how could you have possibly thought that was a good idea!? In what universe would that have been the way to make him listen to you!?”

For his part, the Demon Bull King actually looked at least somewhat ashamed. Despite being larger than all of them put together the disapproving glares of Sun Wukong, Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, and even Mo seemed to do their jobs well enough.

“I make no excuse for my words or actions that day,” he said firmly, standing straight with a shake of his head. “But do not doubt that I have regretted and wished to undo them every day since-”

“Since what?” Pigsy snapped, beating Wukong himself to the punch. “Since you said them? Or since he told you to fuck off?”

“Pigsy!” Tang whispered out loudly behind him, grabbing his shoulder and moving his disproving gaze from DBK to give the other man one of worry.

“No, it’s gotta be asked Tang,” Pigsy responded, glower not moving from the larger demon. He didn’t back down, gritting his teeth with a growl of his own building in his throat for them all to hear. “Answer me you-”

“Since he told us to leave him,” DBK answered, his honesty in his tone surprising the pig demon. His face was angry, but Pigsy could tell it wasn’t entirely at him. There was anger at himself there. “Again, I made no excuses. I was blinded by power and anger before and it took much more than it should have for us, both myself and my wife, to realize what we had done. That does not change that it happened.”

“... that’s why you let him stay,” Wukong said after a moment of silence between them. “That’s why you’ve been trying to convince him to come back and why you...” He scowled more, shaking his head with a conflicted look of anger and sorrow on his face. “You’re actually trying to make it up to him somehow.”

“Poorly,” DBK also admitted in shocking honesty, sighing before he rotated his shoulders and morphed in front of them. Shrinking down to a more reasonable side, not that much taller than Sandy. “I know I have made mistakes and this alone won’t set things right, but I do care about my son.” He said ‘son’ like it was the most odd word to say, like he hadn’t said it in a long time but he finally understood what it meant. After what he had told them, it made sense. “We will help you find him, and you have my word that should he chose to return to your side we will not stop him.”

“But you won’t stop trying to convince him to give you another chance, will you?” Wukong asked, looking up at DBK. His face was neutral once again, businesslike. Testing the waters.

“No, I won’t,” DBK admitted something for the third time, nodding his head. He was serious.

Wukong turned back to the rest of his companions, three of them looking at Pigsy instead of Wukong. The two once-brother in arms looked at each other. One middle brother and one eldest. Wukong nodded to Pigsy, a silent acquiescence.

‘It’s your decision now’ the nod seemed to say.

Pigsy waited a moment, weighing his options. This had only made his disdain for the Demon Bull Family grow more... but his kids were still in danger. What was worse? Working with someone he hated to help the people he cared about? Or pushing aside help they may desperately need due to that hate?

“... Fine. But you are going to give us everything we need.”

“That can certainly be arranged,” Princess Iron Fan’s voice rang through the room, entering the room with a veritable army of Bull Clones carrying everything from tech to tables and chairs in behind her. “Where shall we begin?”

[anninhiliation]

The Club

Anon: write something about sitting on Chris’ lap and riding his thighs pls 😈 i love your work!!

@just-another-cnchoe​ wanted a part 2, so I added it on to the OG! Ily queen hope you like it! 

A/N: I rewrote this a million times, and was low-key tempted to make this into a nasty week but could only think of 3 different scenarios also sorry that this is short I think my brain is still dead from last week! THIS WAS QUEUED FOR TOMORROW BUT LUCIA (@yatusabess ) PUT ME IN A MOOD AFTER THOSE VIDEOS IM TELLING YENNY

Masterlist     Requests Close Nov 10

Warnings: Thigh riding in public 

Reggaeton boomed through the speakers, draining out all the noises of the club. The lights were barely turned on, except for some moving lights making everyone in the room a moving shadow. This was Chris’s and I’s first night out in a long time since he had been away on tour until yesterday. Chris insisted that we go out for a fun night the second he got home but he looked so exhausted I convinced him to go out tonight. But in truth, I didn’t want to go out I wanted something else. My body was craving Christopher, begging for his touch, his filthy words, his orders. I did not want to say anything because I was too shy and never initiated much except for hints. The alcohol ran through my veins and it only made the pool between my thighs worse. My entrance pulsated at its own beat screaming for Christopher as we danced to the beat. My back was pressed against his chest, as I shook my ass against his crotch. My hand was wrapped around the nape of his neck and his hands held my waist. After a few songs, we decided to take a break and relax in an exclusive lounge that overlooked everyone. Only a handful of people were relaxing in the darkroom, as I took a seat on Chris’s lap. The second my bare core made contact with his leg, my juices began to slip out of me and onto his leg. I noticed his eyes flood with lust as my moisture made itself known.

“Nena” He growled in my ear “mi pierna está mojada”

My cheeks turned bright red as he discovered my little secret. 

“I need you papi” I whispered hiding my face in the crook of his neck pressing my back against him “Why don’t we go somewhere private?”

“Nena mírame” He growled

I met his gaze as he firmly held my waist adjusting me on his leg. My bare core was firmly placed on his upper thigh as he guided me to a position where my nerve endings were deliciously in his control. 

“Papi what are you doing?” I gasped

“Do you trust me nena?” Chris deviously smiled

I nodded my head as I fixated on his big brown lust-filled eyes as he began to move my hips.

“What if someone sees?” I gasped as the pleasure began to hit my nerves  

“¿Y?“ Chris smirked "¿Por qué te importa? We both know you’re not as innocent as you act.”

My nub felt every crevice of his roughed up jeans as I turned my face lustfully kissing him. The kiss muffled my moans and whimpers making Chris groan. He ended the kiss abruptly and attacked my sweet spot under my ear. 

"I wanna hear you” he mumbled against my warm skin as he bounced his leg

A whimper escaped my red lips as Chris nibbled my skin. His hand snaked up my tight dress as he squeezed my right tit. 

“Nena que rico- fuck if we weren’t in public I’d do so much more” he groaned

I moaned out as he moved his hand over to my other breast and held on. I slipped on to a cloud nine the more Chris moved my pearl against his jeans. The thought of anyone catching us, or someone sober enough to call us out or remember what I look like in my most vulnerable state slipped my mind. A knot tied in my lower stomach as the pleasure built up. 

“Chris” I whimpered “papi…I’m close”

“Dale cum all over my leg in front of all these people. Show everyone what a dirty little slut you truly are.” He growled 

Chris continued to whisper filth in my ear, as my eyes rolled back. A mixture of curses and Chris’s name fell from my lips as I hit my high. Chris moved my hips, as I fully released all over him, feeling my juices soak all over my lower lips and on his now soaked jeans. 

“Fuck nena lets get you home so I can properly take care of you.” Chris huffed

Chris lifted my hips off him and helped me stand up. He grabbed my hand as he stood up, linking my fingers between his and ushered me out of the club as quickly as possible. 

“Don’t let go of me nena” he whispered in my ear before walking out of the room, tightly squeezing my hand.

He pushed passed waves of people creating a little valley for me to squeeze through. Everything about him at that moment riled me up even more. From the tattoos poking out of his shirt, to the light layer of sweat he formed. His non-sexual dominance was something that always riled me up. It wasn’t long before we made it out of the club and sped away in his red sports car. When we made it home, Chris wasted no time in marking my neck as we made it to the bedroom. He already unzipped my little dress and pushed the straps down my shoulders. I felt the fabric slide down my body and pool around my legs. He pushed me to the bed, making me land on my back. I let out a small yelp, as he hovered his body over mine. My breathing hitched as he held onto my hips and continued to mark down my neck, to my clavicle. My back arched as my fingers intertwined with his soft hair, tugging at the strands.

"Chris" I whined as my legs wrapped around his waist pulling his hardened bulge closer to me "stop teasing" I pouted as his mouth encircled my hardened nipple

My eyes rolled back as I tugged on his hair harder. My back arched as he toyed with my other nipple, sending me to the stars. 

“Chris!” I cried out again as he switched over

I felt my clit pulsate as my lower lips drowned in my arousal. I whimpered out, desperately needing to feel more. 

“Papi please” I begged out as his warm soft lips pressed down in the valley of my breasts.

“Princesa” he murmured on my soft skin as he passed down my naval “so needy” 

He took his time reaching where I needed him the most, marking my inner thigh melting me into a whimpering whiny mess. 

“Chris dale” I bucked my hips towards his lips

He groaned out as he held onto my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh, keeping them apart as he kitten licked my juices. 

“Fuck” he growled “you’re so fucking wet”

My head rolled back and toes curled as he assaulted my swollen clit. 

“Hermosa” Chris said “you have such a messy, needy, little pussy” his tongue darted around my slit sending me on a cloud as he set up a rhythm 

His mouth knew my body and knew just how to make me scream. He tugged on my clit making my back arch as I moaned out his name. I held onto his hair as if my life depended on it. Tugging each time he sent thunderbolts throughout my body. 

“Chris- Papi! Please fuck me” I moaned as the pleasure built up in my lower abdomen. “I need your big thick cock” 

I felt Chris smirk as he tugged on my clit one last time before pulling away and throwing my leg over his shoulder. He undid his jeans enough of his pulsating cock to spring out making a new wave of arousal pool between my legs. He grabbed his base and slid his tip between my folds. I felt my walls open up, and hug around him as he slid in inch by inch until our hips were fully connected. My hands ran down his biceps and gripped the sheets as I felt ourselves be fully connected. 

“Fuck nena this pussy is so fucking tight” he groaned

He rolled his hips at a medium pace as my mouth hung open with endless moans leaving me. My hands went back up to his locks pulling him in for a lust-filled needy kiss. His tongue still tasted of my sweet juices making me moan. Chris dominated the kiss as he began to roughly slam his hips into mine. The room filled with filthy noises as skin rammed against skin, making us both moan. My knot in my lower abdomen grew tighter and tighter as he hit my g-spot every time without fail. My walls fluttered around him, pressing him tightly as I was ready to release. 

“Dale amor” Chris grunted “ruin my cock in your sweet little juices, so I can stuff you with my cum” 

My eyes rolled back as I tugged on his hair. My knot fell apart, making my thighs shake around him as I coated him in my pleasure. I felt him twitch inside me, as he rode me out before shooting his warm liquid inside me. We both panted, as he pulled out of me. Chris took off his shirt to wipe off the dripping cum before throwing it in the hamper and getting in bed. I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat steady before falling asleep to him gently playing with my hair.

[thistransient]

The schedule for my last week of work came out. It’s not thrilling, I don’t like closing shifts and I reaaally don’t want to train the new people, much less have any of them move into the house, but on the other hand now it finally feels real that this is almost over... and thus it’s time to panic! :D 

I’m paranoid my visa application to stay in Australia will be denied for some bizarre reason. I’m worried Taiwan will never open up for language students and I’ll just be hanging around waiting and spending money when I could have just...what? Gone to Cambodia? Back to the U.S.? The options are not great at the moment. The Chinese professor who hired me is still naively asking if I’ve gotten my work visa yet and I’ve been procrastinating on replying for days now, although the recruiter is well aware of the situation. There are, of course, other countries open to tourists (one of my former coworkers with an EU passport is gleefully posting photos of himself posing in the empty plazas of Central and Eastern Europe as he blithely continues his globetrotting, although not without some criticism in the comments section at least), but Taiwan is only allowing in students from countries it deems low-risk (who knows how long Australia will be on that list with the Melbourne situation though) so it doesn’t do me any good to leave if I stick with that goal. 

Not owning a car anymore is just as limiting in Australia as it would be in the U.S. I booked an Airbnb in a northern suburb of Perth and it looks like it would be faster to walk to the beach (about an hour) than to and from nearest bus stops. However, I think having some time and space to myself to relax after the constant stress of the past uhhhh 5.5 months (holy shit has it been that long) is critical. When I say “constant stress” I’m not talking in particular about covid, in fact the time when I was only working a couple days per week was perhaps the happiest and most relaxed I’d been in a long time. I’ve been doing these 3-6 month working stints for years now and they always end in mental (if not physical) breakdown. Covid (not to mention the bushfires) has just been the cherry on top this year. 

I lamented this cycle I can’t seem to break out of with my therapist, who asked me to do some homework that involves describing my ideal day in detail. I came up with one lavish scenario that involved all the things I would like to be able to do if I actually had more energy and less anxiety, decided this was just my capitalism-indoctrinated vision of what an ideal day should look like, and rewrote it entirely. The second draft involved living in the woods as a minimally clothed hunter-gatherer. Clearly my living-in-the-woods days of 2013/14 are far enough in the past that I’ve grown nostalgic. In any case. Nothing realistic established, the search continues. Trying to figure out a future is elusive when I really didn’t expect to live past 30. 

[sendin52]

by Denny Hunt for GetWisdom.com

Introduction:

Karl Mollison is a research scientist and psychic medium and has discovered the means through which a tiny percentage of people throughout history have successfully made direct contact with God, Creator of All That Is. With this ability, he has done what any reasonable person in such an unusual and surprising situation would do: ask endless questions! Why is God invisible to us? Why is there rampant evil in the world? Are there dark unseen forces working against us? Why has God not intervened to stop it? Why do good people suffer?

His quest to find the secrets of the Universe led him to real answers for human suffering in the form of a Lightworker Healing Protocol. This protocol is basically a high level prayer to God, for healing; not just any healing, but deep healing from dark spirit infestation, karmic healing from past traumas, and well as emotional and physical healing. The direct contact with God in this case was, and continues to be, in service to healing and not just satisfying curiosity. This fact alone gives some credentials that should be considered seriously before judgment is passed.

Now, it seems, we are about to experience an event being called “disclosure” where allegedly the world’s governments will finally admit to contact with extraterrestrials or the ET’s themselves will make their presence known to humankind.  There are many scenarios and claims about this thing called disclosure.  Karl has asked many questions about this in his channelings with Source Creator.

This is one of them:

QUESTION:

Pres. Ronald Reagan, in a speech to the United Nations to encourage greater cooperation among nations, proposed the idea that if the world were faced with an extraterrestrial invader, we would come together to protect the common interests of humanity. This has been remarked on a number of times as perhaps a telling slip because he has been rumored to have been told there was a large fleet of vessels built by the U.S. military and capable of space travel, so he was aware of the long-standing collaboration of the U.S. government with extraterrestrials. Photos of his typed speech text show this comment was crossed out, which has been attributed to someone in his inner circle editing the speech beforehand, but he rewrote the remark by hand just prior to giving the speech and then delivered it in public. Was this done at the behest of the Extraterrestrial Alliance to test the waters about making disclosure of an extraterrestrial agenda, or was it perhaps divine inspiration to encourage planting a seed about the extraterrestrial presence being a reality?

ANSWER:

“Writers have disclosed that Reagan was told about the Secret Space Program, that creation of many spacecraft developed with the cooperation of the presumed benevolent extraterrestrials was a reality, and that the purpose was for protection of the planet from hostile alien invaders that could become a serious problem. So Reagan was primed with the party line, so to speak, that this Secret Space Program, which you know to be truly the Mercenary Army Program, was not only a helpful adjunct but critical to the future of the world, so he took this to heart and felt quite strongly that it would benefit the world to truly be aware of this. That was the reason for its inclusion in the text of the speech to begin with, as it was a divine suggestion to have this stated openly in order to make people aware, finally, of the reality of the extraterrestrial presence in the world.

So the fact he mentioned this, was not a desire of the Extraterrestrial Alliance at that point in time to make people aware that a Secret Space Program existed, and was far advanced, because they knew it would raise too many uncomfortable questions. This was a divine inspiration for him to include this comment because it was capitalizing on his humanitarian desire for world peace, and the fact that it was edited out was truly an attempt to avoid disclosing, even through inference, top secret information. The impulse for him to override this normal crosscheck to avoid a mistake was divine and the purpose, as you saw intuitively, was to instill the idea of an extraterrestrial presence in people’s thinking. Everyone who heard his speech and everyone who hears a replay of his speech today, is given a divine impulse to pay attention to its true meaning—that there is an extraterrestrial presence, the extraterrestrials are real, they are here, and it is a threat to the world that warrants the world coming together with a common purpose and goal of seeing these interlopers be removed.”

I like to use deductive logic or the law enforcement approach when they are investigating a crime; it is a method of inquiry where I consider motive, means and opportunity. It doesn’t always give me the right answer, but I can sometimes save myself some false moves along the way and also end up with the most plausible answer.

Let’s look at some of the more popular disclosure narratives and see what we come up with.

1) This version of disclosure deals with the possibility that the world’s governments, one or more of them, will finally admit that there are ET’s and they know about them and have interacted with them and obtained technologies. Disclosure will result in the dissemination of free energy technologies with the result being that the state will no longer be able to control the population in terms of labor slavery, taxation, monetary controls, and victimless crimes, etc.  It is kind of utopian speculation about what humans would do if they had free energy and transportation devices that unshackled them from the fascist oligarchs that run the world. A new type of technological freedom will spread all over the world. Manipulative governments and multi-national corporations would subside into the past and become irrelevant. Sober anarchism with the credo - do no harm would rise to the top like cream. In some versions, some form of dimensional ascension would follow.

2) In this disclosure narrative the claim is that ET’s are all benevolent and if they weren’t, they would’ve already eliminated humans so they could occupy earth unhindered.  Perhaps they are just respecting our free will while we work out the kinks. Enjoying the hapless humans as if it were a spectator sport. Rooting for them from the sidelines. Except if we get too far off, like using nukes, they would step in for more direct guidance. They are going to show up because the cabal has gone too far with their enslavement plans or population reduction plans and their disrespect for nature.  When they present themselves, they will let us come to our senses and accept their guidance and assistance. In some versions, some form of dimensional ascension would follow.

3) There are bad ET’s, good ET’s and some ambivalent/observer ET’s and they are all part of what some claim is this large collection of ET races that occupy this part of the galaxy and they are going to make themselves known to humans on earth due to a variety of factors depending on the version within this category of disclosure.  Then the onus is on humans collectively to decide how to navigate within this mass of competing agendas where some ET’s want us dead, some want to exploit us, some want to trade with us and some want to help us. Most of these narratives are quite complex because obviously there are factions of humans who will align with different factions of ET’s and then there might be a political free-for-all where the spiritual aspect is also in play and potentially influencing outcomes. Many proponents of narratives within this category are channelers and/or contactees who portray themselves as academic or providers of lofty and higher-level spiritual concepts. They often fancy themselves as teachers or those in possession of esoteric knowledge. In fact, entire religions and cults are often found within this category of disclosure explanations.

4) There are basically some good ET’s and then there are some bad ET’s and they are both going to appear in some fashion and for some good reason so that we can select which ones to partner with for spiritual/economic alignment and protection. This is a compelling narrative because it is very similar to our alleged history of good vs. evil and prosaic myths of spiritual conquests of light over dark; the good guy/bad guy stories that we never get tired of reading, seeing or hearing. In some ways this is a subset of #3, but I list it separately because of its obvious appeal and the likelihood that this narrative will gain prominence as things unfold. It also works nicely with the savior stories that we find in legends, myths and religions.

Most of these scenarios will put humans in an observer role.  We might have a role in what happens, but it will be along the lines of voting, where whoever gets to count the vote ends up deciding what actually happens. We are constantly checking our beloved smart phones to see what is supposedly happening and what is likely to happen next. One of these versions has to be true, right?

The last one we’ll consider is what we have learned at GetWisdom.com, i.e., the channeling work of Karl Mollison, where he is channeling departed people who have returned to the Light and/or Creator.  In this narrative we are told that there are no benevolent ET’s in contact with humans on the earth plane. They are all evil and have, as their next goal, the elimination of humans once and for all.  There is no particular reason to get rid of us, other than the fact we are unruly and considered high maintenance given the return on investment.  

These evil ET’s upon finding us here on earth again—yes, we were here once before and what we call the Divine Human Free Will Experiment failed the first time around—they set about to genetically modify us such that we would have a poor connection to our higher selves and no connection to our deep subconscious. This made us the perfect hosts for disincarnate evil spirits which infect us humans, AND for the ET cohort that currently runs the earth to control us in the manner they see fit. This cohort is comprised of the Anunnaki, the Arcturians (creators of the soul-less alien grey biological robots) and the Reptilians.  They have a tenuous and strained alliance to control the earth along with all the humans, which they use as a food source, entertainment, and as an energetic host for the evil parasitic entities that infest them and almost all humans on earth at this time. They are atheistic beings with ancient civilizations, incredible technologies and psychic abilities that dwarf most of what us humans can even imagine. Even their soul-less robots can make us fall in love at will and convince us of outlandish things with mind control capabilities and technologies that are quite beyond anything we could currently comprehend. The robotic alien Greys have a peculiar interest in us because they think they can crack the DNA code which will enable them to reincarnate.  This situation has perhaps bought us some additional time. One of these alien races has been engaged with us almost from the beginning of our Creation.  We were created on earth by Creator and the Divine Realm based on the DNA of four races of higher dimensional ET’s, including the Pleiadians and the Sirians. These higher dimensional ET’s have a hands-off policy and are letting this Divine Human Free Will Experiment play out in accordance with the Divine Realm’s rules for this earthly adventure.

So I would claim that this GetWisdom.com version of things is not really a disclosure narrative, because it does not rely on the government or the ET’s doing anything as we see in the other descriptions, 1 through 4 above. In the examples above, either the government(s) are going to admit or reveal something to the general public or the ET’s or some faction thereof are going to present themselves or let themselves be “discovered.”  What is claimed here is not a situation where we are going to wait to see what happens. In other words, we already know what is happening and why.

You could say, we are pre-empting disclosure.  We are giving you the low-down before it really happens. The problem with our version is that it appears to be uniformly bad news.  There is no silver lining in this advance warning. We’ll get to that later. For now, let’s look at these other disclosure narratives and see what they have to offer and whether they can pass the smell test.

1. There seems to be one consistent thing throughout human history; there is always the state or a controlling religion or an upper class oligarchy running the show. What would be the motivation for any of those to reveal something like free energy technologies? How would they be ‘forced’ or compelled to do something like that? How would they benefit?  Some in this camp have claimed that there will be some sort of event where there is a solar flash which results in a higher state of consciousness for humans; an ascension story that goes along with the disclosure.  Perhaps that is how these oligarchs come to their senses and decide that everyone should get access to free energy technologies. Does that pass the smell test?  Where do the ET’s fit in? Do they stand idly by as us humans get intergalactic toys, limitless abundance and somehow a more mature and egalitarian mindset in the bargain? I think there are some compelling aspects to this disclosure narrative, but you kind of have to ignore some other truths when looking at the current state of affairs and the seeming trajectory of human history.

2. If the ET’s are all benevolent what were they doing when the Soviet government was killing more than 60 million of their own people? Or what were they doing when the US dropped nuclear bombs on Japan? Or when Mao Tse-Tung was exterminating his population of Chinese citizens?  Or when the gas chambers in Nazi Germany were running at full tilt in 1944?  Is this just part of the free will experiment as defined by these same ‘benevolent’ ET’s? For me, this is the weakest disclosure narrative of them all. I am surprised that there are still so many people who believe that all of the ET’s out there are benevolent. Some say that this is like a hostage situation where these benevolent ET’s are not going to make their move because the evil human government would do even more damage to humans and the environment.  That doesn’t make sense to me. Does it make sense to you?

3. This might be the most intelligent and thus compelling of all the disclosure narratives competing for our attention and ultimately, belief. It seems to fit the ‘as above, so below’ credo from ancient and wise esoteric principles except for what seems to be only a few minor problems. Some of the more popular proponents of this disclosure scenario will explain that humans have been relatively unmolested by negative ET’s and that these ‘enemy ET’s’ will only present themselves in response to humans expanding into space and asserting ownership claims beyond the earth.  They couch the problems that will confront humans as simply ones of lacking knowledge as opposed to moral or spiritual issues.  The existing problems remain obscure in terms of their causes and the possible cures.  There is the enigma of “out there” representing a place where the answers reside because there is already an established ET community waiting for our mutual discovery.  So some of the big questions related to this ET and disclosure issue remain unanswered. Who can we really count on to have the power to see that truth and justice prevail? There is a danger not well defined and a promise equally obscure and we are left clinging to a source that is, at least, recognizing that there might be a problem.

4. This is the one that might emerge as the leader due to the conditioning that humans have already received over many thousands of years. We call it the savior programming. The probable timeline might look something like this: humans muddle through the next several years with earth’s governments falling into abject idiocy in their attempts to create the ideal Orwellian society to serve the ruling elite, with each turn exposing their hand and their intentions for the global population.  This continues until a crisis like a hot world war breaks out or a ‘citizen’ revolution or a pandemic similar to the current COVID-19 one takes a more significant chunk of the human population out of commission either through death and/or economic destruction and then that would be the turning point for disclosure. Then, the ET’s arrive with a developing offer to assist in a planet-wide recovery, either with or without the cooperation of various so-called governmental institutions (such as the US, Russian and/or Chinese intelligence/military’s) cooperation. That might be what everyone will call disclosure.  Some alien race appears to save us from this mess. Maybe these benevolent ET’s are working with a human faction of white hat operatives to assist?  From that, any number of explanations and demonstrations may follow for the sake of convincing the skeptical. The demonstrations of prowess in technology and healing might make a convincing case that some sort of alliance would be the smart move and the need for this alliance would likely involve an evil ET cohort that may be portrayed as the backing for the old elite and Satanic power brokers and their controlling influence on all of the institutions that have failed human kind. There are other plausible scenarios that could be used that would be equally as convincing. Take your pick.  

All of them in one form or another have been nurtured in our media, in Hollywood movies and in the great science fiction novels and our legends and myths going back to before Biblical times. The fact is that the ET’s have been operating on our planet all through history, without helping us in any way, but rather causing untold harm. Who else is carrying out the countless abductions of humans through deception or without their consent? If it is the dark ET’s who already have the Earth in its grip, would they allow benevolent ET’s to displace them when they have humanity as hostages? Do we want an alien war in our midst?

The unfortunate fact, and this is being demonstrated as I write, is that a majority of the earth’s population can be made to believe and do some things that are demonstrably self-destructive and damaging to their long-term survival.  We have been dumbed down to the point of being easy targets for any number of disclosure scenarios.  This is a green light for any of the above described disclosure schemes. Almost any of them could be made to work.

Disclosure, in practically every one of its forms, is a psy-op.  There is really no clearer explanation.

Right now, the price of disclosure is the final, successful and terminal blow to humanity and the Divine Human Free Will Experiment. The second great failure, if you will. The Divine Realm tells us that the purpose of disclosure is to lull us into a false sense of security, to trust ET’s who have been corrupting and subjugating us for centuries from behind the scenes, and allow them to operate out in the open. This is a modern Trojan horse deception, and if we accept their offer, we will be choosing sides with the interlopers. Because the Divine Realm must allow free will, this will mean the undoing of humanity.

This outcome can be changed, but it will take many more people involved in REAL healing and not lip service to benign and empty platitudes, or political schemes of any kind or appeals to our imaginary space brothers or any of the other scenarios predicated on our savior programming installed eons ago.

One of the most telling questions you can ask yourself right now is “Why am I here?” Do any of these disclosure narratives attempt to give you that answer? Is that question even related to the idea of disclosure? If there are ET’s, irrespective of whether they have positive or negative orientation, does that have anything to do with why you are here?

What we have been told by the Divine Realm is that you are here and I am here and everyone else is here to solve the problem of evil and that we are using an extreme version of a free will environment to do that. We are here to heal our perpetrators; the ones who have subjugated us for thousands of years. That sounds even more outlandish than all the disclosure narratives combined, but I am convinced this is true.  It is really the only truth claim that can be used to make any sense out of what we are seeing.

The key to doing this and the chance we have to do such a thing in the face of such overwhelming odds, is our ability to form a partnership with our Creator and with all of the beings in the Light (or Heaven by some accounts) or what we call the Divine Realm. That is our origin and birthright and that is the secret weapon, if you will, that has enabled humans throughout history to survive such horrendous tragedies in history.  

But now we have to do more than survive. We have to heal our perpetrators to the point where they will take their evil away from earth. This will give us a respite and a chance to heal ourselves. This will create a future, for the first time in human history, where we can thrive and grow and reach our full potential as Light Beings incarnated as Divine Humans.  This reality is not currently conceivable to us.  We can only dimly see what this might be like.  Words will fail to do this reality any justice whatsoever, but that is our potential destiny.  

Remember at the beginning of this article where I wrote, “secrets of the Universe led him to real answers for human suffering in the form of a Lightworker Healing Protocol. This protocol is basically a high level prayer to God, for healing”?  This is what we can use to heal these sociopathic ET’s and their complement of dark discarnate spirits that also infest us.  We are love-based beings. Most of us know this intuitively. In our natural state we do not fight and create wars and willingly kill each other. This is an external disease that can be eradicated once and for all. Even the most extreme cases and most depraved beings can be healed enough to save humanity from the consequences of disclosure and its inevitable fall-out.

[kpopaeipathy]

The Magic in Us (Yoongi Oneshot)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft. vmin)

Genre: Fluff, kind of enemies to lovers, Witch/Wizard AU!

Prompt: I wished upon a star I’d be able to spend the holidays with my soulmate, but it wasn’t supposed to be you.

Summary: You never imagined what fate saved for you, and now you want to know why it kept you waiting for so long.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I actually rewrote it a dozen of times before it seemed good enough lol I hope you like it <3 Also, sorry for my pour poetry/rhyming skills.

Requested by @army-author, enemies to lovers part was requested by annon.

“Fate has its own way to make something happen. You can’t rush or change it.” At least, that’s what your mother always says.

You used to trust her words, to trust fate, but that was until you saw all of your friends and cousins find their soulmates, while you remained there, forbid to cast one single, simple spell.

Why was the world like this? Why couldn’t you turn into true witches and wizards before finding your other half? Why, of all people, you had to be the one to end up like Aunt Agatha? The crazy aunt that knew all the spells but couldn’t cast any, for her soulmate never appeared. Those were all the thoughts in your head the past month.

That’s why you were there trying your last resource on Christmas Eve, before you lost all your hopes.

“First star of the dark sky Forget me not for I am forlorn Send me this destined guy So my magic I don’t mourn.”

“What would be the odds that your soulmate is casting this same stupid spell right now?” Taehyung asked as he sat up on your bed.

“Shut up,” you fumed, but let your shoulders fall as you looked away from the sky, not trying to see if that foolishness worked.

Your best friend was right. Even if your soulmate was as desperate as you were, he or she wouldn’t be fool to try and make a wish (or cast a spell) upon a star. Granted, you still had a couple of years before all of your chances were over, but it seemed like you would never find the person that would allow you to be a true witch.

That’s how the world works, if you don’t find your soulmate before the age of 18, you can never cast one single spell. But that wasn’t as simple as it seemed. In addition to finding your soulmate, you and them had to cast the same kind of spell at the same time so that the magic could flow through your veins. It seemed hard to do if you looked closely at it, but actually, most of the people found their soulmates in kindergarten, and just a few of them lasted until high school. Somehow, fate used to make soulmates be born around the same age, so they would cast their spells at school and then find each other, and be happy ever after, just like in fairy tales.

But that didn’t happened to your Aunt Agatha. For some reason, she and her soulmate never casted the same spell together and after she turned eighteen, she was never able to be a witch. It seemed like the same thing was going to happen to you.

“Why are you so desperate?” Taehyung spoke again when you sat beside him on your bed. “You just turned sixteen.”

“So what?” You complained, letting your body fall loosely over your bed. “Am I gonna get to wait until the last day?”

Taehyung sighed but didn’t answer. He knew your question was rhetorical, since you had made it a hundred times before and never liked any of his answers.

“Y/N, Taehyung, let’s go!” You both heard your mother’s voice from downstairs. To Taehyung, it was a blessing, for he wouldn’t have to hear you complain about your lack of luck anymore, but to you it was the sign that your night was going to get worse, for you were about to leave to your neighbors’ house.

You squeezed your eyes at Taehyung as he ran out your bedroom. He knew you would start complaining about spending Christmas night with Yoongi and his family.

Min Yoongi was the person you wanted most to be away from, and that was since kindergarten when he glued a gum on your hair during the play time. Fate really had its own way to act, for your mother and his were best friends to say the least, and all you and Yoongi wanted was to stay away from each other.

This year, your neighborhood was having a shared Christmas night at Yoongi’s house, and that was the reason why Taehyung was acompaining you. Your best friend lived in your neighborhood, just like his soulmate, Jimin, and they were both going to the party. Taehyung just decided to go with you because he was actually a good friend, despite his runaways when you complained too much.

You met Jimin at Yoongi’s door, and you felt guilty for envying the sparkle of magic that escaped Jimin’s and Taehyung’s fingers when they touched. But all your feelings disappeared once the door opened, for it was Yoongi who had opened it.

The older boy snorted when he put his eyes on you, and you lifted an eyebrow, waiting for him to dare to say something in front of your parents.

“Welcome,” Yoongi murmured after a minute and turned his back at you, entering the house but leaving the door open so you could enter after him.

You frowned. You knew Yoongi your whole life and you always knew he was a smartass, annoying boy, but he was never disrespectful, especially with your parents. And despite opening the door and welcoming you, he didn’t even say hi, nor did he taunted you, which was even more weird.

“What’s wrong with him?” Taehyung verbalized your thoughts once you all entered the house and your father closed the door behind him. “He used to be more fun.”

You raised an eyebrow at your friend, not believing he was saying that, but Taehyung only had the chance to shrug before your mother answered his question.

“Sometimes fate doesn’t work the way we want.”

Of course she said that and went to the living room right after, giving you no chance to ask her what she was talking about. But you didn’t have to ask to understand because you knew Yoongi your whole life, and even though you wanted to stay away from him, you were completely familiar with his situation, different from Jimin.

“What did she meant?” The boy questioned.

Your eyes were glued at the door Yoongi used to escape. It wasn’t the first time you empathized with Yoongi, but this was definitely the first you wanted to let him know about it. You wanted to let him know that you understood him and that it sucked to never find your soulmate. You were so focused on this feeling that you didn’t pay attention to the couple by your side. That is, until Taehyung expose the truth.

“He didn’t find his soulmate either,” he explained to his boyfriend who seemed to pity you and Yoongi. “But in this case time’s almost over.”

“He’s turning eighteen, right?”

“In less than three months.” The words left your mouth without you realising it, and you sighed at the thought of being like Aunt Agatha.

There was silent for a few minutes. Probably because you were all mourning Yoongi’s magic, which seemed to be near a complete death. Jimin was such a gentle boy and you knew he would be sad with learning that someone he knew was going to end up without they soulmate and their magic. That was a destiny no one could dare to think about, especially those who had already shove it away.

“Just go talk to him,” you heard Taehyung murmur by your side, and you finally let your gaze leave Yoongi’s bedroom door to look at your best friend.

“What are you talking about?” You questioned him, looking around to find out Jimin had actually left you two alone. “Why would I go talk to Yoongi?”

“Oh! I thought it was you complaining about time and fate a few minutes ago.” Your friend scratched his chin as if he was trying to remember something. But it didn’t last long, as he stared at you with a serious look on his dark almond eyes. “You were feeling the same way he is right now, and I know you well enough to know that you wanna go there and comfort him.”

“I hate him, why would I comfort him?” But you knew Taehyung was right. The destiny fate had chosen for you and Yoongi wasn’t a pleasant one, and you hated that more than you hated the older boy.

Taehyung knew he was right too, that’s why he just raised an eyebrow, smirked and went to the living room, leaving you alone to make a decision. Your feet moved without your consent.

Yoongi’s room was exactly as you remembered from the last time you were there a couple of years ago. The same white walls full of posters of his favorite groups and singers, his well made bed you knew he didn’t use much because he was always on his computer, which was turned on but with an empty chair in front of it at the moment.

Yoongi was looking through the window, too concentrated in his thoughts to acknowledge you entering his territory. You thought about going directly at him and tell him to stop being a dumbass and try to cast every spell in the world until time was over, but you got caught up at the sight of a picture hang-up on the wall beside his window.

The picture wasn’t there the other times you entered that room and you couldn’t imagine why it was there now, and that was the exact reason why you stood there staring at it instead of talking to Yoongi. The scene in the portrait was a long forgotten one, where you were four years old, a day before your first day in kindergarten, when you were crying because of the unknown scenario you had in front of you. You could remember now, as you stared at that photograph, how Yoongi told you you would make a lot of friends among the other kids because you were a good girl and everybody would want to be by your side. That happened a day before you started hating him, a day before he glued a gum on your hair.

As you thought about that, you looked at Yoongi again. Taehyung used to call him your worst enemy, for Yoongi was there to tease you and make your life a difficult journey all the time. But again, as you thought about it, you got reminded of that talk about people wanting to be by your side, a talk you couldn’t connect to the boy that seemed to want to make your life a living hell.

You took a deep breath before you finally approached Yoongi at the window. You almost couldn’t hold the smile that wanted to grow on your lips as you saw him jump in surprise of your presence.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He demanded as he put his feet on the floor, leaving the window sill.

“I’ve heard you’re in a bad mood,” you shrugged, leaning your elbows at the window sill and looking at the night sky.

“And you decided to come here?” He doubted that was the case. You never showed any kind of sympathy toward him. Granted, he’d never showed it to you either. “Don’t you remember what happens when I’m in a bad mood?”

You chuckled. “I do remember actually. It was very embarrassing the last time.”

“Then, what are you doing here?” You could hear the curiosity in his voice, which made you smile. It wasn’t always that you were able to surprise Min Yoongi although he did that to you every time.

“I came to tell you you’ll be fine,” you answered sincerely, but kept your eyes glued to the same star you wished upon a few minutes ago. “But now I changed my mind.”

“Excuse me?”

“You won’t be fine,” you stated, turning to look at him and chuckling again at his frown look. “Because you’re not a good boy and people don’t want to be by your side.”

And with that, you turned your back at him to leave his room.

You knew your words would affect him. For some weird, unexplained reason, Yoongi remembered that day from a long time ago and cared about it enough to keep the memory hanging on his wall. You knew he would remember his own words once you said the opposite of them. But you never imagined he would be so taken aback by it that he wouldn’t be able to answer you back with a nasty comment, nor that he would take so long to reach you that you would almost be leaving his room.

That’s why it was a surprise to you to feel his hand holding your arm when you had already opened the door, and it was a surprise too that he slammed the door shut to keep you in his bedroom. But the biggest surprise was the feeling that irradiated from the place where he touched you.

Through your life, you never wondered what anything would feel like as you wondered about magic. What it was like to feel it for the first time? Was it like a pour rain, touching your skin so gently that you’d take a few minutes to actually notice? Or was it like touching a hot pan, a quick burn that would sting and hurt for a some time but once you stopped thinking about it, it would only be a small scar on your skin? Or, as you wished, it was like something catching on fire? Like a spark touching a green leaf and consuming it fast, little by little? The real feeling though, was something you could never imagine.

Once Yoongi touched your arm to stop you from leaving, you felt as if he had opened a headwaters on your skin. You could describe the feeling as a cracked dam letting the water flow again as a torrent along the river, almost flooding and escaping its coast barrier, only the water was your magic, the river was your veins and the coast barrier was yourself.

You couldn’t move for a whole minute as the feeling took you completely unaware and filled you with something you thought was lost forever. When you finally felt like the water was turning into a small fire that would always burn inside of you, you looked at Yoongi who was staring at you flabbergasted.

“You… How… You…” He stammered, his voice far from the raspy tone you were familiar with.

And again you both just stood there looking at each other’s eyes. It couldn’t be him. You knew Yoongi your whole life, so it couldn’t be him. Yet, the new flame burning within your body was the only proof you needed to be sure it was, indeed, him.

Suddenly, Yoongi let go of your arm and took a step back, turning his gaze away from you as he swallowed. You sighed, looking at the closed door by your side and feeling the flame diminish without his touch. Now you could understand why there were sparkles every time Jimin and Taehyung touched, the magic was stronger when you were with your soulmate. Suddenly, as Yoongi let go of your arm, everything made sense, the world made sense, for it was necessary a strong magic to give birth to a witch and that was why you needed your soulmate for that.

You blinked before looking at Yoongi again, who was observing you with a frown.

“How is it possible?” He finally asked, externing your thoughts as well. “We’ve always known each other. How’s it possible that it took so long to happen?”

You shrugged, “I guess we weren’t casting the same spells.”

At the memory of the spell you tried to cast last, you widenned your eyes at Yoongi who squeezed his eyes at you.

“What were you doing before coming here?” He spoke the words in a cautious tone.

“Don’t tell me you wished upon a star too.”

“Hey!” he protested, “I have less than three months now, you still have two years. I can allow myself to get desperate.”

You tilted your head after his answer. If he had turned eighteen before you figured out you were soulmates, you wouldn’t have a chance to use your magic as well. Again, everything made sense, including the reason why you felt like your time was ending even though you still had two years left until your 18th birthday.

The silence was there again, which was something extremely different from what you’re used to, because there was always bickering between you two. Except for one time. You glanced at the picture beside Yoongi’s window and then returned your gaze at him.

“Why do you keep that photo?” You regretted it as soon as the words left your mouth. Knowing Yoongi was your soulmate didn’t change the fact that he was bad to you all these years. What if he didn’t change? Being a soulmate didn’t mean you were going to be lovers, it just meant you were tied together for eternity.

Yoongi didn’t answer at first. He just looked at the picture for a moment, in silence, and you couldn’t read his face for the first time in your life. Then he took a deep breath and sighed, before staring at you again.

“It reminds me of a time when I didn’t need to push you away.”

You widenned your eyes. “Push me away?” What was he talking about? You never asked him to be mean to you.

“Do you remember that day?” His voice was raspy again, and you swallowed before nodding. “You were afraid to be left alone by the other kids,” he continued, “afraid that no one would like you at all.”

You remembered the feeling. You cried the whole time you were in the playground, despite Yoongi’s tentatives to cheer you up. And the next day you paid the price for not being good to him.

“I knew everybody would like you,” he confessed, a small grin playing on his lips, “even at that age, I knew you’d be loved. That’s why I did what I did.” He chuckled, looking away for a second at the thought of your scream when you found out he glued a gum on your hair. “I did that because I wanted to prove to you that people would stay by your side even if an older boy was picking on you, teasing you.”

“You didn’t have to do it that way,” you mumbled.

“It was supposed to be just once,” he admitted, making you look at him with wide eyes again.

If he wanted to mess with you just once, why did he keep doing that? Why did he tease you and fight with you during all these years?

“But you kept feeling afraid, saying weird stuffs every time I went to see you with my mother.” The grin faded as he looked at the photo again and sighed. “I couldn’t stop after a few years. My friends expected me to be mean to you, your friends expected it.” He looked at you. “You expected it.”

“Yoongi…” You stopped. To be honest, you didn’t know how to reply. You couldn’t deny it was his stupid actions toward you that brought you and Taehyung together as friends, or that you felt stronger after resisting his teasing for so long. In a weird way, he had helped you all these years.

He chuckled then, tilting his head with a smirk on his lips.

“I can’t deny I started liking it,” he kept going. “It was a good way to see you every day and it was fun to make you blush in front of your friends and mine.”

“So,” you stopped his babbling, your voice stronger than you thought it would be, “you’re saying you were trying to help me? While making me hate you?”

He chuckled again, opening a complete smile this time. Then he bit his lower lip and took one step toward you, putting your hair behind your ear with a caress.

“Babe,” he whispered, “if you’d ever hated me, why would you come in here tonight? Why would you care about me being sad?”

“Cause I’m a good person?” you hinted.

With another step closer, Yoongi caressed your cheeks with both hands and held your face gently. If there was someone else inside that room with you, they would probably see the sparkles of magic caused by his touch on your skin, because you could definitely feel it. Magic was making a party in your stomach, as if it was a bunch of butterflies.

“You can believe that if you want,” Yoongi finally answered, his voice raspier than usual. But you couldn’t think of a reply at the moment, for Yoongi shut you with his lips.

This time, you could only describe the feeling as an explosion. If anyone could’ve seen you at that moment, they wouldn’t see sparkles of magic, because you were sure that you were letting out fireworks.

Fate had, indeed, it’s own way of making things happen.

[lailannajacobs]

A Tricky Hunt and an Unexpected Find (Handmade Thieves pt. IX)

Pairing: Loki X fem!reader

Summary: Reader unwittingly finds her way onto Asgard and has to deal with all the attention that follows being a mortal in the extravagant realm. To his surprise, Loki finds himself having just as much trouble if not more than reader in dealing with it. 

Warnings: Just a little bit of blood.

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Hey guys! So I wrote, rewrote and rewrote this chapter but I’m actually really pleased with the way this chapter turned out! There are only four more chapters out after this one so I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who’s been following along with this series, I know it’s been a long one! Always love to hear your feedback, good or bad it makes my day! <3

Handmade Thieves | Part Nine

The last couple weeks had been excruciatingly boring. Did you miss the parties and meetings? Absolutely not. But did you miss having company and someone to talk to? As much as you hated to admit it, yes, yes you did. You had seen Asger a few times and it had been…nice, but it hadn’t been…interesting. When you were with him you caught yourself wondering what the Prince was up to and wishing you could have left the palace with him. Even if the Prince always managed to irritate you more than anyone you had ever met, it seemed your anger had been keeping the sadness and longing for freedom at bay. Left to your own thoughts, it was become harder and harder to keep those negative emotions from seeping in.

However, at least with the Prince gone, you were free to do and go wherever you wanted, not having to answer to anyone. After the first mind-numbing couple of days, you had decided to try and find the secret path the Prince had used the time he had snuck you back into the palace from the market.

It was proving to be much harder than you had first anticipated.

The Prince was due to arrive sometime today, if he hadn’t arrived already, and you were no closer to finding the path than when you had started your search. You wanted to smack your past self upside the head for not having memorized where the door had let out or for not having at least looked back to see what the exit looked like. The few doors you had found looked nothing like the one you had gone through. Not that you knew what it looked like. After all, you had only seen it from the inside of the damp passage and not the other way around. If you had, this hunt of yours wouldn’t have felt so hopeless.

You had set out early that morning and your now growling stomach let you know that it was way past lunch. As your last day alone, and thus last chance at finding the path, you figure you needed as much time as you could get to find it. You didn’t think he had arrived yet, which meant you still had time.

For some reason, you were sure the Prince would let you know when he got back. Logically, he had no real reason to, but you hoped he would. If he did, then maybe him having to search for you would give you extra time to find the path, if you hadn’t already found it by the time he got back. And, if you were being honest, you were ready for him to get back, not wanting to have to spend another day wandering the halls by yourself.

You fiddled with the hem of the Asgardian shirt you were wearing as you walked down the hallways. It was hard to be sure, but the shirts the Prince had left for you were so close to the ones you had seen him wearing that a part of you wondered if he had donated some of his own shirts to your cause for comfortable attire. Maybe it was only your imagination, but when you had first put one of them on, that lingering smell of lemon and pine felt oddly familiar. Strangely enough, you found yourself finding more comfort in the shirts that reminded you of him rather than your own clothes that reminded you of home. Trapped and alone, any reminder of freedom or home was starting to become unbearable.

At the corner of the hallway, you turned down another long, narrow hallway and made it about halfway down before you realized you had already checked it twice before. With a defeated groan, you picked up the pace, not quite paying attention to your surroundings. You wanted to save your energy, searching a hallway that might actually lead to a secret way out of the palace.

A few feet further down, a familiar voice rooted you to the spot, the mere sound sending a current of fear through you. Your chest tightened and it was suddenly hard to breath. Just because you hadn’t seen him in over a month, didn’t mean you didn’t know the sound of his voice when you heard it. It wasn’t something you could easily forget. You had only managed to avoid the king because dumb luck had been on your side. Apparently your luck had run out.

You had to get out. Now.

As quickly and softly as you could, you backed up the way you came, but it quickly became apparent that he was moving far faster than you could even think to make it round the corner at the other far end. Frantic, your head whirled like it was on a swivel, trying to find another way out. You were about to give up and bolt back the way you came, regardless of consequences, when you noticed the outline of a door out of the corner of your eye.

A few quick strides took you to the wall where, upon closer inspection you found what looked like the outline of an old broom closet. There was no handle and you wondered for a second if you were crazy, imagining things in your desperation. Frustrated, you pushed inside the outline, and heard a small click. Confused yet hopeful, you backed off, the door releasing about an inch with you. Your pounding heart felt like drumroll, building and rising as you pried open the heavy door, scraping your nails against the wood. When the door opened wide enough for you to see inside, you deflated, the seamless brick wall you were met with shattering your hopes of escape.  You almost cried out in frustration but managed to bite it back. What you needed was to breath and to think. Their voices were closer now, but you knew you still had a few more precious seconds. There was a way out, there always was. You needed to find it. But was there a way out for you? If you were the Prince, you could have found a way to cast an illusion over yourself and hide from the king, but you weren’t him.

You were human and you couldn’t rely on magic and tricks to get out.

Or could you?

An idea bloomed in your mind but you couldn’t deny it was probably crazy. But there wasn’t any time left to try anything else. Your pounding heart was an urgent reminder that even if you were grasping at straws, however strange your plan sounded, it could be your only way out. You didn’t know what the king would do if he found you suspiciously wandering the halls but you weren’t about to stay to find out.

Bracing yourself, you stepped through what should have been a solid wall but what turned out to be an image that shimmered green as you passed through it and into a dimly lit hallway. You managed to pull the door shut as the king rounded the corner and you leaned against he wall, barely breathing as you waited to see if the king had spotted you. Only when you were sure that they were long gone, their echoing voices and footsteps long no longer audible, did you sag against the wall, and something like a giggle crossed with a sigh of relief escaping your lips.

You did it. You were still alive. And it seemed…

You looked around. Even in the bare light, you recognized the pathway. Your lips curled into a crazy grin. You had to hand it to the Prince, he was damn good at keeping things a secret and at making your heart race, even miles away.

With a laugh, you skipped down the hallway, ecstatic despite the moldy smell and damp air. Only when a lamp flickered and extinguished above you, plunging you into darkness for the next few feet, did you remember that you weren’t out yet. The pathway may have felt deserted, but you couldn’t be sure of anything. You slowed, wishing you had your daggers.

It was hard to tell how far you had made it, but you had gone far enough that you had the impression the path had begun to slope a few minutes back. As you veered right, the scraping of uneven steps echoed down the hall. It was too dark to see more than ten steps ahead so you pressed up against the wall, trying to make yourself invisible to whatever was coming your way. Your shallow breathing was too loud in the emptiness. With every breath, you ran through a different scenario, your fear building with every monstrous possibility.

Whatever it was, it was moving slowly and you hoped it meant that if it came down to it, you could outrun the thing. You knew you should turn back now and run the other way, but you didn’t want to risk alerting it to your presence. If you were lucky, the darkness would offer enough cover to keep you shielded from view. You didn’t want to think about the possibility that you could be dead if it didn’t.

When it came into the pale light, now only a few feet away from you, your breath caught in your throat.

“Wolf?” You whispered, your voice echoing through the darkness.

He flinched his eyes narrowing in confusion. The look in his eyes felt off and unfamiliar, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. Figuring you had to be imagining things, a breath of relief escaped your lips. You hadn’t thought you’d ever be this happy to see him.

But worry washed away any bit of relief you felt at the sight of him when you took a step forward and got a better look at him. His hair was a soaked, tangled mess falling into his face, covering cuts a bruises along his jaw. He had one hand clutching his side and you noticed the other was pressed against the wall for support. And that was just what you could see from a quick inspection. The sight felt like a punch to the gut, stopping you in your tracks as if your brain couldn’t figure out what it was seeing.

“Midgardian?” His voice seemed to scrape its way out his throat, only audible because of the silence of the pathway.

The sound broke you out of your trance and you closed the space between the two of you in rushed steps. “What the hell happened to you?” You demanded.

“Nothing.” He crossed his arms low over his chest and leaned against the wall like he would any other day, but it was missing his usual insouciant quality.

He was hiding something, you were sure of it. You pulled his arms away from his body, surprised that he let you without protest, and sucked in a break at the sight of the blood soaked tunic. If the amount of blood was any indication, it was impressive that he was still standing, let alone walking.

With a deep breath, you tried to tuck all your emotions away, willing your voice to be as curt and unfeeling as you knew it should be.

“I thought gods weren’t supposed to bleed.” You huffed.

He shrugged, not quite able to do it without wincing. “It happens.”

“It doesn’t just happen. Where the hell were you Prince?” You forced your hands to your side so you wouldn’t inspect the bruised face in front of you. “That doesn’t just happen from a walk in the park.”

He pushed himself from the wall, his breath catching at the movement. He was done with your interrogation. “Nowhere.”

“Nowhere the planet or nowhere you’re trying to ignore my question?” You stepped in front of him, your hands on his chest, so he wouldn’t step around you. “Want to tell me what you were doing?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He snapped, trying to push past you.

You knew you should let him be. Let it go. It should’t matter what he had done or that he was hurt. It didn’t affect you. You weren’t the one who was hurt. But you couldn’t just let it go. You’d figure out why later, when you weren’t terrified by the sight in front of you.

“Really?” You demanded, angling your head to try and get a better look at the cut on his jaw, “It doesn’t matter?”

His eyes narrowed, “I didn’t think you’d be this upset Midgardian.”

Annoyed, you pushed hard on what appeared to be a stab wound on his abdomen, watching as he grit his teeth in an attempt to push past the pain to stay standing.

“Of course I’m upset.” He grabbed your hand but you kept pushing. “We had a deal Loki. You stay alive so that I can stay alive. I’m not going back into that dungeon because you do stupid shit like this. You stay alive. That’s the deal.” You growled and released the pressure on his wound, hoping the words would convince him as much as you.

He glowered at you, “And here I thought you’d be curious to know what would happened if I got stabbed.”

Ending in a coughing fit, he slid down the wall to a clumsy seat on the ground. Half propped up against the dirty wall, you were suddenly hit with how much younger and how much more tired he looked. He didn’t seem to have enough energy left to keep up the cocky god of mischief facade, and you felt yourself soften a little.

Releasing a sigh, you bent down to a crouch in front of him so that you were at his eye level and tucked a loose, bloody strand of hair behind his ear, only to find another nasty bruise beneath it.

“What the hell did you do to yourself.” You murmured, your voice little more than a sigh.

You weren’t going to solve anything by scolding him, you knew that. Whatever he had done, there was nothing you could do about it now other than make sure he stayed alive and unhurt. What you really needed to do was calm down. You tried telling yourself that now that you knew he was safe and alive, you weren’t heading to the dungeon, but the thought wasn’t calming you as much as it should have. It seemed the longer you stared at Loki, the tighter the pressure in your chest seemed to become. You forced in a deep breath, trying to create space your lungs. There was no reason for you to be this scared and upset. These feelings weren’t like you. And it wasn’t like you were actually concerned about Loki’s welfare. Right?

As if to prove that last thought wrong, you steeled your voice, banishing all emotion, “Use that magic of yours and bring me bandages, antiseptic and something for stitches.”

You tilted his head side to side with a finger under his chin as you inspected his face as clinically as possible.

He raised his brows, “You’re going to…” He stopped as if he wasn’t sure what you were going to do.

“I’m going to patch you up yes.” You rolled yours eyes at his surprise, “Don’t make a deal about it.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“You don’t strike me as the doctorly type.” He protested with a cough. “You used my injury to push me to the ground.”

You lifted his blood soaked tunic, revealing his bloody stomach, contracted in pain, “I only did that to knock some sense into you. What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up?”

“What were you doing creeping around here anyhow?” He countered.

“None of your business.” You shut down his question, knowing he probably didn’t need to know the truth, “Now, get me those bandages I asked for.”

You watched his face contort in pain, his jaw tightening until what you needed was beside you. Too busy marvelling at his ability, you barely looked up in time to see him slump forward, eyes rolling back in his head. You caught him by the shoulders and righted his heavy body.

Cupping either side of his face, you searched, heart racing, for any sign that he wasn’t doing worse than a few minutes ago, “Hey, we’ve still got things to do. You have to stay awake for me okay? Please Loki.”

Your breathing picked up and a panicked feeling settled in your gut. For the first time since you met him, you feared he wasn’t as indestructible as he wanted you and everyone else around him to believe. The colour of the wound told you that if someone got creative enough, they could make a god bleed. Doubt pooled in your stomach and you were afraid he might not stay awake long enough to get him to his room. You pushed the thoughts away, willing him to stay awake - to live - as you pushed the hair from his face and threatened to stab him again if he didn’t open his eyes.

He took in a long, shaky breath, his eyes fluttering open.

You let out a breath of relief, “You’re lucky I’m here Wolf.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly, “I knew you being good at staying alive would rub off on me.”

“That is why you made a deal with me in the first place.” You mentioned, even if you both knew that wasn’t true.

Even in his half awake state he knew better then to correct you, and once you realized he wasn’t going to say anything else, you got to work disinfecting the wound. Thankfully, despite the odd colour to the cut, he wasn’t bleeding out anymore. He barely flinched as you poured the alcohol over it, dabbing gently to clean it out. You weren’t much of a medic, but it was the best you could do. His body would heal much faster than yours ever could anyways, which reassured you that the painfully sloppy stitches you were attempting would only have to hold for the night. He was probably in more pain than he was letting on, yet barely flinched every time the needle pierced the skin.

“That’s not why,” he whispered so softly you weren’t sure you had heard him right.

Looking up from the final stitch, you found his eyes searching yours. Their intensity might have been dimmed from the pain, but it didn’t take away the part of his gaze that always made you feel like he could see right through you. You shivered, unable to look away.

It took you a moment to remember what you had been talking about. “Then why did you make the deal?”

He stayed silent long enough for you to knot the thread, then shrugged, the movement stiff, “I did it to keep me alive.”

You cocked your head and looked into his eyes, trying to see past his words to what you were missing. “Isn’t that what I said?”

“Must be the pain talking.” His words came out shallow and you could feel him slipping away again. The only reassuring thought was that if he had enough fight left in him to keep his guard up and not tell you the truth, then he could hold out a little longer.

“That’s hard to believe,” you looked up from his stomach, realizing that you needed to keep him talking, “I’ve never heard you say anything you didn’t think through first.”

He caught your stare and you were relieved by the fire you felt in it, “Sometimes it happens.”

“Does it?”

“More often then you would know.” He murmured.

That unnerving stare of his captured all of your attention, and you couldn’t look away. You didn’t want to look away. You wanted to see beneath the surface. You wanted to know what he saw when he looked at you. Was it the same thing you were looking for when you looking into his eyes?

“And what do you do when that happens?” You asked, lured in by that unguarded, sleepy look on his face.

“I say something confusing instead.” He let his head thump back against the wall..

You reached for the bandages. “Must be exhausting.”

“Well, we can’t all be as brutally honest as you Midgardian,” He opened an eye, looking down at you from his tilted back position. “Some of us needs tricks.”

“Why not? Maybe my honesty is what’s been keeping me alive all this time. You should try it sometimes.” You tried to smile, hoping an attempt at your normal banter would loosen the knots in your stomach.

He huffed a breath that turned into a cough, his muscles tensing beneath your hand.

“I’m almost done.” You reassured.

He waved away your concern, “I’ll be fine in an hour.”

“You’re not indestructible you know. Whatever or whoever got you, didn’t miss.” You let out a frustrated sigh, and refrained from taping the bandage to his chest harder than necessary. “Tell me whoever did this has a wound to match yours?”

“I believe theirs is worse,” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Good.”

“You’re relieved.” The words were a statement but were filled with so much surprise that it sounded like a question.

“No.” You lied.

“Pardon me Midgardian, but I don’t seem believe you.”

You glanced up at him. “Why’s that?”

“Because you let out a sigh that was clearly one of relief.” He pointed out.

You levelled his annoyingly smug look with a glare, “I did not.”

He raised a brow, proving that even while injured and half conscious he could still perfect that deadpanned look of disbelief. You almost smiled at the familiarity of it.

Instead, you pulled his shirt back down over the bandage and crossed your arms, “If I sounded relieved it’s only because that means that whoever you pissed off is going to have to take a couple of days off before deciding whether or not he wants to come over here and make your life, and thus mine, even more complicated.

Mulling over your words, he eventually nodded as if accepting your words more than anything he had come up with on his own. You tucked yourself under his arm to help bear his weight and get him up.

“Come on. Stand up. We need to get to your room.”

He looked down at you with a raised brow, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” His smile faltered with each swaying step forward, “I do believe, judging by that look you’re shooting me now, that you wish you were the one to stab me.”

“You know what?” You paused to readjust his weight, tucking yourself even closer to his side, “I absolutely do wish it was me.”

He took another uneven step, “I would have been disappointed if you had said any different.”

“Of course you would have.” You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “Only you would embrace the side of me that wants to stab you.”

The corners of his mouth lifted a little higher but you could tell he was trying hard not to let you know how forced it was. The further you walked the further he leaned on you, and you had a feeling he wasn’t even aware of it. The struggle to keep moving was draining the life from him. Whatever had happened to him didn’t seem to be killing him but rather seemed to suck all the energy from him until standing became an arduous task. You held him tighter, trying not to feel so worried. You weren’t a worrier. Not when you knew it wouldn’t help you in any way, and especially not for someone who was basically acting as your prison guard. But you couldn’t seem to help it. Even if you were almost completely sure he would be able to walk this off without a problem after a good night’s sleep, that inkling of doubt held fast.

“That’s what people don’t understand.” His voiced snapped you out of your worry, despite how soft and drowsy it sounded.

You kept moving forward regardless of how tired you were becoming, his body much heavier than you had anticipated. “What don’t they understand Wolf?”

You needed to get him to his room and soon. Hopefully, you were almost out of this dank hallway.

“They don’t understand that pretending their dark side doesn’t exist doesn’t make it any less there. It makes them a coward for not embracing it.”

Before you could look into his eyes to get a better sense of the very interesting words he just spoke, his head lolled forward, eyes shut.

”Hey, Loki? Stay with me, okay? Just until we get to your room. I can’t get you there if you don’t help me.” Your voice was soft and gentle, a tone you never thought you’d use with him.

He sucked in a shallow breath, and without a word, straightened slightly. Neither of you spoke, but as long as he kept moving you were happy. He didn’t need to waste his energy talking with you, no matter how interested you were by this unguarded prince you knew you’d never get the chance to see again. When you nearly ran into the door at the end of the hallway, you let out a sigh of relief. You were almost there. Now you just had to get him down the hall and up two flights to his room.

[dimonds456]

18 for the writer's meme?

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

WARNING: LONG POST

Before I got into Steven Universe, my main AU comic that I had was a BATIM comic called “Demons Inside.” That thing... hooooo man, did it have so many alternate things going on.

Originally, the story was only 3 parts, and both of the main antagonists were very 1-dimensional and attacked for no reason. Joey Drew was there to start the plot, and Ink Bendy (renamed Inkoliss later) possesses Toon Bendy, for no reason other than to be evil. The whole story is pretty bad, and the entire thing has changed now.

The second rewrite, I had Joey make some different choices that gave him more depth and extended the story. We find out that he is seen as a father figure to all these Toons and took care of them for 25 years, and that he wasn’t just suddenly evil- he got possessed by Inkoliss so that Inkoliss could get to Bendy, using family as a weak point.

The third write brought the story to 4 parts, the fourth brought it to 5 with a massive time skip (5 years!). Inkoliss got more depth and vulnerability, as well as regret for his actions and a possible redemption arc I juggled for a long time. I don’t remember what I decided for him.

The fifth rewrite brought it to 5 parts and a whole bunch of in-between scenes in the time skip, plus my main villain’s backstory (he went from a cinnamon roll to a dude out for power, just so that he can be free. He’s not even doing it for himself (though that is part of it), he’s doing it for his friend!). We got more Butcher Gang (I started the story before Chapter 3 of BATIM, so we didn’t know they existed before), and I split them up as well. Charley (the main of the three) winds up becoming a double agent, and becomes the most burdened character in the story besides Inkoliss himself.

The sixth rewrite focused on revamping the ending, as did the seventh and eighth. I’m still not completely satisfied with how it ends to this day, but the ending I do have ties up all the loose ends and presents us with a best case scenario, though I won’t say much. Inkoliss has a Spinel moment, though, where he kinda goes “What am I doing??” And turns it all around, but we’re not there yet.

Demons Inside is a comic, first and foremost, so I only had to redo Part 1 when all was said and done, but some scrapped concepts I have are the return of OCs that come in to save the day (but that took away from the main cast so I opted not to), killing off poor Henry, the main bad guy being pure evil for no reason, and Bendy (main protagonist of two) having to sacrifice himself to save everyone else.

For Second Chance AU (SU), I have a scrapped idea where Spinel becomes corrupted, plus another where I rewrote Pink’s and Pearl’s entire plan to get her to become a Crystal Gem. It came from meta commentary I was sharing with another AU creator, and I realized that the way I was writing Spinel didn’t line up with their plan at all and made Pink more evil than she is. It’s better now, though. :,)

I don’t have many AUs of my AUs though, besides everything that goes down in asks on Second Chance. Those asks are canon to their characters and reactions, but not the story. Like there is a thing where Spinel sees what goes down in Maximum Capacity (Amethyst shapeshifting into Rose) and freaks out, but that is not canon to the AU. I guess in How to Train Your Monster, I have a few plot bunnies running around, but that one isn’t completed either so I can’t really say what all has been abandoned and what hasn’t.

Although, for the SU Movie in Second Chance, I’ve had a lot of alternate ideas. The biggest one now seems to be a second gem rebellion, and I’m running with that one for a while. Abandoned plot points have been having a fusion replace Spinel with two new Gems, Bluebird showing up earlier, and Emerald having an entire movie all to herself.

I’m sorry this got so long. Thank you for asking, though! :D

[delicatelyoptimistictimetravel1]

Masters Project Update

It has been a long time since I have posted on here. Unfortunately due to the current worldwide pandemic that has been going on for the last 3-4 months and the fact that I am a key worker working in the healthcare sector I have been unable to devote much time to my university work and have made very little progress since  the university closed and lockdown began.

Having this time away from my project has given me time to reflect on what I was trying to achieve with my series and what I wanted to have as a final product. Due to the nature of the job that I do (many repetitive tasks that don’t require much thinking) I was able to devote a lot of time to fleshing out the story of my series and do a deep dive into my characters pasts and personalities.

I arrived at a place with my main characters for my series which I was really happy with and began writing out the main points for each episode, explaining what each character would do where they would begin, where they would end up and whether they would change or develop along the way.

It was during this time that I began noticing issues with my story, I would write an arc for one character that felt right but wouldn’t allow other characters stories to shine.I found myself constantly rewriting my side characters stories trying to contort them to find into my main characters story.

After many failed attempt to rewrite the side characters stories I opted to remove one of the main characters and put him aside to be used in another series that I was planning to develop after I have finished university. I then sat down and rewrote the main characters story, making the series completely about his journey.

But again I began to hit road blocks, character choices didn’t seem to make sense, things appeared to happen just because the story needed them to to move forward. I began spiraling and spiraling trying to make this story work when in the back of my mind I already knew that it just wasn’t going to come together, and if it did, it wouldn’t be a series that anyone other than me would be interested in watching.

So I tried to take my mind off of my series for a few days, hoping that if I did, some inspiration might present itself. During this time I began coming up with other small ideas for animations I would like to produce when I have free time in the future. Small skits, animating various funny scenarios that have occurred either in my life or someone I knows. I even made a plan of starting to animate 1 second a day for an entire year, similar the bothers McLoed who created 365, a short video based around the same premise of animating 1 second a day.

While taking this break from my series I began looking through old notes I have written and scrips that I had started and never finished. Most of what I found was so incomplete it threatened to send me into another spiral. But there was one script that stuck out from all of the others. It was a short film I had written one night while I was walking home from a night at one of my friends from work house, The wak took me around 45-50 minutes so I had a lot of time to think and something had sparked an idea in my head. Something I saw or something I had heard had set this idea in motion and I had managed to write a huge amount down by the time I had gotten home.

After I found this script I began rewriting it trying to picture how I wanted it to look, the art style and the way I would go about animating it. It didn’t take me long before I had written a 12 page script that I knew I could add to if needed or would be fine the way it was. I save the document and put it to one side thinking that now I had completed a project it might allow me to figure out the issues with my series. So I began working my way through my series story again trying to figure out where it was going and how to make it flow without it feeling as if it was being pushed along to reach a certain goal, I wanted it to feel organic.

But the more I worked on my series, the more my short film idea would crop up in the back of my mind. I would sit down on a night when I had an hour to do some work and would find myself looking up different art styles or ways to frame shots for this short film that I wasn’t even making.

I finally gave in and with one of the few days I have had off work since lockdown began, I devoted a full day to researching and doing a script breakdown, began storyboarding and coming up with how the story would flow and how I would inter-cut the present day scenes with flashbacks and nightmare that the character would be having (This might seem confusing but I will be doing a post soon explaining the story). I found that I was enjoying working on the project infinitely more that I was enjoying working on my series. Every time I though of a new shot or a new layer to the story it was exciting, unlike working on my series where every time I had a new idea I dreaded having to go back and rewrite huge sections of the story to fit it in.

Long story shot I have decided to change my project Idea from creating a pitch bible for a series, along with an animated title sequence, a couple of animated scenes and possible a short trailer. To my new idea and produce a short film of around 5-7 minutes and an art book to show to process of the making of the film, including the research and the inspiration.