#I tried to save the quality specially for the first gif

[ayaraki]

[kalechipslives]

sorekara setting design

Here are some notes on the development of SOREKARA's style and presentation. If you couldn't already tell, SK takes a lot of inspiration from 70's/80's anime, Nobody's Boy Remi being the reference point for much of it. I've always respected Dezaki for his monumental work so I've always wanted to pay tribute to it (especially the early stuff). I don't think I was as successful as I'd like to have been, but alas! There is still more to come! So without further ado!

I was just talking about Dezaki , but now I shall talk about something completely different. To set the tone, I created the cat and the trolley setting first. The Girl's design should be plenty obvious (lol). But the background here I paid special attention to... I find the paints of Night on the Galactic Railroad to be very unique. They have a line less, airbrushed quality to them that blends in surprisingly well with the characters. I did some research and studied 児玉喬夫 Takao Kodama's work, as they were credited with setting design for this film as well as Genji Monogatari. Actually, if you look at Genji Monogatari's backgrounds, they have the exact same airbrushed quality! I had never done a background like this before (I am certainly not an environmental artist) but I think I did a fairly good job of it.

...I immediately switched gears and without thinking, went back to Dezaki works. I can't say I was very faithful at all. The night sky is easy to paint, with it's notable color spray and paint blots, but I diverged quite a bit with the watercolor textures. Shichiro Kobayashi is the artist I looked to the most, and this project made me appreciate him more than ever before. Just looking at his paints gets me emotional... The vibrant colors, the dramatic angles, you can just feel his reverence for life overflowing from the work. There really isn't anyone better. I need to study more if I'm to capture even a fraction of his skill. That being said, I did make sure to animate the backgrounds slightly with the sparkles on the water-- The reflection of light on water is my favorite to draw! Also, flowers are a very important motif (for various reasons, ohohoho). Kobayashi seemed to love drawing flowers, the paint around the edges give is a delicate look. Actually, if you look at the textbox...

Instead of full-color CGs, I opted to use "postcard memories". This was a technique Dezaki used where he would show a detailed, scratchy-lined illustration to highlight important moments instead of fully animating them. It creates a really memorable image that draws out all of your emotions! I tried to emulate them (the more single-toned ones, that is) for the game. It was 1/3 Dezaki worship, 1/3 time-saving technique, and 1/3 excuse to draw lots of scratchy lines. I love scratchy lines. This way, I could make a lot of memorable shots that were visually interesting without overworking myself.

As another note, I looked to Akio Sugino's character art when drawing. The characters don't really look like Sugino characters, but I was emulating his shading technique with (once-again) the scratchy lines. Ah, I was in heaven. Looking at his older work, the linework is hardly ever clean-- but the rough, hand-drawn edge gives everything a tactile quality and the strong anatomy makes everyone so gorgeous. It's like an engraving come to life.

Finally, the anime effects! On the left you can see soothat before his values are adjusted (very dark, isn't he?) and on the right you can see he is in-game, values adjusted with a more appropriate "anime" look. This is because anime cells are put onto a CRT screen, so they end up looking very different. I created an auto action in CSP to adjust the color grating and line quality of every asset before popping them into the game for the chromatic aberration to take effect. The lines are slightly crunched a blurrier compared to the original. It gives it a more "physical" look. The colors are fixed up-- you'll see there is no pure black. If you look at a physical anime cell, you'll see they more often than not do not include pure black. There is usually a tint of green or red in there.

The chromatic aberration filter... I don't know how noticeable it is to the average player, but the game actually has a built-in filter that creates a slight "chroma" effect to emulate the look of frames through a crt/light. This means the red + blue + green values of the entire screen are split up and adjusted to layer slightly off from each other, giving it a little visual interest. It was AN EXTREME doozy to put in, with my poor programmer coding it and re-coding it until the end. It seemed simple at first, but there are parts where the game zooms in which totally broke the filter! It made out eyes bleed! But it was repaired in the end, so blessing upon you, Sandy. You saved my life.

The reason why I looked to Ie Naki Ko/Nobody's Boy Remi specifically is because that's where I feel the most "pure" energy from. It is a show that leans incredibly hard on it's techniques to get by but because of that it really embodies what I love about old anime-- It has a selfless reverence for its subject that drives you to watch and surrender your heart. Dezaki's powerful directing, Sugino's gorgeous drawings and Kobayashi's majestic paintings come together to make a work that shines. The setting is truly at the forefront with the characters getting lost in the grandeur. That's the attitude I had with SOREKARA: "There are things much greater than us, so isn't it wonderful that we are able to see them side-by-side?" There are many animation techniques that are cost-effective while still being utterly beautiful, I would love to copy them someday but I wasn't able to go that far yet. At least not in the demo. There's still time, I suppose... Studying limited animation from old anime is actually extremely useful when creating visual novels. Understanding the placement of cells and their layering/movement has given me even more ideas for stories!

I ended up going on a rant about anime again ^^" But it's so beautiful, you must now understand my heart going into the work. I always think of my characters and their journey, of course, but before that I think of the setting. I want the player to experience beautiful and mysterious things alongside their traveling companions. There is still so much more to make. I hope to incorporate more Dezaki-style techniques in this and future works. Please remember the true message of my works.... Not that love finds a way, or that your connections can transform your world...it's that....anime is very, very cool.

Thank you for reading 🙇🏽‍♂️

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

2. Is your muse a good kisser? 6. What is your muse’s earliest memory? 11. Is your muse good or bad at learning new things? 27. Does your muse pour milk/sugar in warm beverages (e.g. coffee/tea/e.t.c.), or prefer them plain?

More Rick Grimes headcanons for your delight

Is your muse a good kisser? Yes. Has some years of experience, can kiss in many different ways. From vanilla to wild beast.

What is your muse’s earliest memory? Probably with his family, playing or being with his parents and brother.

Is your muse good or bad at learning new things? Rick is a fast learner and also a good teacher (even though he doesn't think he is.) He doesn't seem to be the "prodigy" type of character who already knows how to do things, who has special gifts or who is destined to anything. Rick is practically the opposite of that in the series and he learns new skills from zero. The combat and tactical skills he has he learned from the police training, as well as his skills with leadership and body language. He starts the series being so naive, learning to be harsher along the series. Rick literally trips more than 3 times when running in the woods trying to save Sophia and couldn't even kill a walker without hurting his arm or making some effort. I honestly think the only thing Rick already had with him was his personality- he's intelligent, he's introverted, he's an observer, he's a planner, he's very emotional and sensitive, he's naturally kind and peaceful and he's very cooperative, has a strong sense of justice- because of those traits, Rick can adapt and learn new skills really well, but he will be a total clumsy dork at first because he has no magical natural talent for things. If you were a trainer and Rick was a student, in the first week you probably would think that clumsy, weak thin guy would be the worst of the class and fail at everything- but give him some days and he will be doing things really well and helping everyone else.

What also helps Rick to learn faster is how he has a natural tendency to get thrown into conflicts. He is a natural leader because of his assertiveness and kindness / good will to help others and capacity to coordinate- even if Rick doesn't want to be a leader, people who are lost will tend to follow him because he will try to help and show directions, it's natural to feel safer around him. Because of his sense of justice, he tends to fight for what's right and riot when under oppression, so perhaps since school Rick was often fighting bullies or getting bullied and getting in trouble to help others. Conflict and hardship for sure helped him grow faster. He's the typical natural hero who wants justice while trying to help those who need. He also is very open minded and creative, what helps him see outside the box, put himself in the enemy shoes and foresee probabilities. His best quality is that he's smart.

Does your muse pour milk/sugar in warm beverages (e.g. coffee/tea/e.t.c.), or prefer them plain? It really depends. I think Rick has many (very) specific preferences for things (people might assume he has no strong personality just because he's often quiet and keeps his thoughts to himself) but he's very open minded and probably already tried different things. Because of his personality, I think Rick is the opposite of the "cliche popular" trope- despite having some cliches kind of pushed onto his character because of the story plot, I think Rick doesn't get as influenced by groups or by mass culture like most people do. I think he has elaborated opinions and tastes about the most unexpected things because he thinks a lot and speaks little. That being said, Rick probably will like to pour sugar or milk etc. depending of the coffee, depending of the milk, depending of the cappuccino etc. He probably has VERY SPECIFIC TASTES BUT NEVER TOLD THEM TO ANYONE BECAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT TO BOTHER, he doesn't want to call attention or sound too picky. So on daily basis, he might just go with PLAIN to avoid social interaction, to avoid explaining what he likes, to avoid small talk with people. If Rick is at a cafe he likes, on his own or with a close friend, then yes, then Rick will pour the milk and the sugar and the cinnamon and whatever until his beverage is just the way he loves, customized with his preferences.

@wexarethewalkingxdead

[champagneglitteronthefloor]

Bejeweled

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x feminine shapeshifting reader

Warnings: Spoilers for the show Wednesday (barely), a small mention of smut

Summary: Reader has a very special quality along with her special ability, that causes Xavier to be both amazed by her and protective of her at the same time. This request was so creative, it really put my mind to work! I loved it. This is now forever my fantasy lol.

Word Count: 3.2 k

You sighed again as you looked in the mirror. Why did you have to be stuck with this? You were born with a very special ability to shape-shift, just like your mother. Your mother was the one and only principle Weems. You had one thing she could never explain, one thing she could never relate to.

Along with your ability to shape-shift, the universe decided you also needed a pair of wings to fly with. They weren't just any wings. They were large white wings, covered with jewels. You never considered yourself girly, or even "boujee" if you will. However, these wings, were boujee. The jewels on your wings were silver in color, like diamonds. There was also many feathers in between the diamonds. They were so shiny, if in the sun they would glisten, and shine so brightly no one could focus on anything else. As someone who avoids being the center of attention, this was a problem for you.

Your wings were always present, but with your ability to shift, you could always shift into a version of yourself without them on. This is how you managed to hide them from your boyfriend of almost a year, Xavier Thorpe. You were afraid if Xavier seen them, he would treat you differently the way everyone else always did.

"You know you won't be able to hide those forever." Wednesday, your roommate dryly stated without looking up from typing on her typewriter.

You were attempting to comb the feathers on your wings when you heard a knock at the door. Your eyes widened as you looked at Wednesday.

"The closet, go." She attempted pushed you into the closet. The wings were too big

"I can't fit." You exclaimed.

"Shift." She demanded.

"I can't, it's not working, I'm too nervous." You replied, your shape shifting abilities failing you, as they always did when you got too worked up.

You slid under your queen sized bed, pulling the bed skirt over you and sliding over as far as you could. Part of the wing was hanging out, but that's the best you were able to do.

Wednesday Addams, your roommate, was the only person at Nevermore Academy that knew about your wings, besides your mother, of course. Wednesday wasn't really a "hit it off at first meeting" type of person, however the two of you really did hit it off immediately. She was able to understand your extreme differences from the rest of the world. You had homeschooled before Nevermore, but when you became of age, your mother had you enrolled at the academy she was principle of, and loved oh so dearly.

"Its nice to see you as always, but I'm sure you know who I'm looking for." You heard Xavier's voice through the door.

"She's not here." Wednesday gave a short reply.

"That's impossible." He said.

"Well, guess it's not." You could hear Wednesday trying to shut the door.

"We were supposed to have dinner at her mother's place. This was my chance to redeem myself." He now sounded so desperate.

Xavier had always been one of your mother's favorite students. That was until you and Xavier got expelled together, for doing some less than appropriate things at the Rave'n Dance last year. Your mother immediately banned you from seeing him, banned him from your house, and tried to ban him from school. His famous father managed to save him from that. Your mother had not spoke to him, or even looked in hid direction ever since. You can still hear her speech to you about how you'd never be able to get it back, but she didn't know, you didn't want it back. You were crazy about Xavier.

"Okay bye come back in a few minutes." Wednesday slammed the door in Xavier's face.

"I'm not doing this again. It's time" She said to you as you shuffled out from under the bed.

"He asked if you were seeing someone else." She added. You had missed that part, you must have zoned out. "He asked me if it was Tyler." she barely smiled, and you did too, being the only one who knew Wednesday was seeing Tyler exclusively.

"You said no though." You replied, in question form.

"Of course, but you still have to tell him. This is the last cover I'm doing." She said, and you knew she was telling the truth.

"He will be back soon. You better figure those out." she looked up at them. One thing you loved about Wednesday is that she wasn't ever impressed with your wings.

"I need help calming down." You pouted to your roommate.

"No." She responded, knowing exactly what you were asking.

"He will be back any second." You reminded her.

"Fine." she folded her arms on her chest and walked toward you, then reaching out and hugging you. "It's going to be okay. It'll work out." She patted on your back. This out of character part of Wednesday you saw every once in a while always managed to calm you.

After Wednesday reassured you, you immediately shifted back into the version of yourself that didn't have wings. It was probably 10 minutes later you heard another knock. This time you answered the door.

"Where have you been?" Xavier questioned you, like a parent, hand on his hip.

"Chill out. I went to get a coffee." You lied.

"Well then where is it." He asked.

"I drank it.." You said. He was eyeing you up and down still suspicious.

Dinner with your mother was not going well. It was making you nervous. You continued to look at the photo of your late father, which calmed you.

"Is there any ranch dressing?" Xavier asked.

"There is as much ranch dressing in this house as my daughters innocence." Your mother snapped.

"So none." Xavier replied and you immediately started choking, looking at him.

"I did not mean to say that." He added nervously, starting to panic.

You could feel it. Your shift wasn't holding up. You were about to be exposed. Why couldn't you just show him? Why were you acting so crazy about it? You couldn't be treated like an exhibit at a museum anymore. You were afraid he wouldn't ever treat you the same. You trusted Xavier, you just couldn't do it. You'd worked so hard for a year to hide it.

You ran up the stairs to what was your room at home, even though you lived on campus. You looked in the mirror. There they were. You could barely control it anymore, the more complicated life got. You wished you could be like Elsa from Frozen, conceal it with gloves.

"Come on dad. Help me out." You grabbed the picture of your dad from your dresser. Memories flooded in. The encouraging text from Wednesday was reassuring too. She really was getting soft with time.

You suddenly felt the ability to do it. You shifted back to yourself with no wings. You walked down the stairs, to see Xavier and your mother still sitting there, a bottle of ranch dressing sitting next to Xavier.

"I thought we didn't have any-" you started, to be cut off by your mother.

"I'm sorry. And I told Xavier I was too. It's not changing. You two are going to remain seeing each other. I can't take back what's been done." She said. "But I swear, if you come up pregnant.."

"I won't." you stopped that conversation before it started. "Thanks mom." You smiled from across the table.

All was good. Xavier and your mother laughed as they drank tea. They discussed Poe cup, his father, school. You felt so at peace.

"You both be careful." your mom waved you off.

You got into your car and drove yourself and Xavier back to the dorms. You both went on to talk about how well the dinner ended. Xavier was holding your hand, and brought it up to his lips, to give a small kiss. You both got out of the car, when you saw someone running in the distance. Two people, actually. The closer they got, you realized it was Wednesday and...Ajax?

"She's in trouble!" Wednesday shouted, running out of breath.

"Enid is in trouble!" Ajax ran up behind Wednesday.

"Tell me where she is." you demanded, ready to find and help your friend, and Wednesdays friend as well, and Ajax's girlfriend.

"She's in the woods. She wolfed out, and some creature out there attacked her. It looked just like a monster." Ajax explained. "She is hurt." He went on.

Before you had a chance to explain, warn anyone, or do anything, there it happened. You shifted back to your own normal self, wings and all. Xaviers eyes were so wide they could've just popped out. The street lamp shined down on your wings, making them shine even brighter, the wind blowing the feathery parts around.

"I didn't get to pick them." You simply stated.

At this point his and Ajax's mouth were both ajar, Ajax reaching to touch them. This snapped Xavier out of his trance as he smacked Ajax's hand away.

You didn't even have time to worry about the situation in front of you. Only the one that included your friend in trouble, in need of help. You flew away scavenging the woods, looking for Enid. When you spotted her you immediately landed.

"Enid,Enid are you okay?" You shook her slowly. She opened her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm a little beat up that's for sure. Whats with the costume?" She asked staring at your wings.

"Its not a costume. These wings are mine. It's a secret." You smiled, just glad she was okay, you started to help her up.

"You know those are so me, right? She asked intrigued.

"Oh, I know." You laughed, motioning for her to get on your back. She did, and you flew her back to campus.

Thankfully no one was around to see them, as you greeted the others, sharing the news that Enid was okay.

"I think we may need a moment alone." Xavier said to you.

"Yeah I'm going to Enid and Yoko's place." Wednesday said walking off with them.

"Why would you hide this from me? Is my trust not worthy, or am I not worthy?" He asked, noticably upset.

"People always act weird about them." You replied. "I get treated like an animal at a zoo when they're out." You answered honestly.

"And you think that's how I'd treat you?" Xavier asked, anger increasing.

"No. I don't Xavier. I just thought it would be best if no one knew, okay." You explained yourself.

"Thats why Wednesday knew." He crossed his arms. "It's not even about the wings, or the shape shifting, or any of it. I could care less about all of that stuff. I just can't believe you would hide things from me. How is it that you've been able to hide them all this time?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I shift into me without them." You admitted.

"That's a whole lot of work to keep a part of who you from me, when I've been transparent about everything to you. Even my dysfunctional father, and all my visions." He defended.

"Except one." you said.

"The one I drew of you months ago, with those exact wings. I thought you'd hate it." He looked down at the ground as he moved his foot around.

"See, you always knew. It was just right here." You laid your hand on his chest.

"Or right here, but whose counting." He pointed at his head and laughed.

"No more secrets?" He asked.

"No more secrets, I promise. Including, wings, abilities, dysfunctional fathers, psychotic mothers. All of it." You put your pinky out.

"I haven't made a pink promise since I was like five." He chuckled.

The silence filled the room for a minute as Xavier really observed your wings, looking closely at detail. You didn't like when people looked at them too closely, or touched them. You didn't like them in general, but they weren't going anywhere.

"Go ahead." You rolled your eyes a little.

He reached out and touched them with his hands. Chills went up your spine. You actually kind of liked Xavier touching them, which was really different. Even from a young age you wouldn't let your mom, or anyone touch them.

"Whatever power created these...they are a mastermind. This is incredible. I've never seen anything like it before. These were chosen just for you" He slowly rubbed his hand up and down on the wing. "How do the jewels not fall off?" He questioned you.

"One time, while in a wrestling match with my cousin John, he peeled a stone off. It grew back, kind of like a fingernail." You laughed.

"This is amazing. I'm speechless." He looked as if he hardly blinked as he observed them.

"Alright enough doting on them. I do not like the attention from them." You snapped a little not meaning to.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it anymore I promise, my angel." He said.

"And you already start with that." You gasped crossing your arms, referring to the new pet name.

"You are unique, and you were made for me. Please let me take that in just a little." He said pulling you into a hug.

Once again silence filled the room. You knew Xavier was looking at them, which was partially what you were trying to avoid, as if this were before he would be focusing on you, not your wings.

"I just really want to." He said, not referring to what he wanted, but he didn't have to. You huffed, crossing your arms again.

"Okay. Fine. You win. You can. Tomorrow evening after school and archery. Your shed." You made the deal.

"Yes!" He clapped and jumped like a little kid.

"Now go, for now. I need some rest." You said jokingly.

You went to walk Xavier out to the end of your hall when you ran into the door, nearly falling over.

"Dang it." You said turning to the side and sliding out the door, earning a laugh from Xavier. It had been a while since you navigated your wings on a daily basis, you had basically been shifting them away for a whole year.

The next morning, you met Xavier, Ajax, Enid, Yoko, Kent, and Wednesday for breakfast and coffee as always. Tyler was trying to be all chill serving you all coffee and breakfast, not knowing you knew about him and Wednesday.

"Come on now. We want to see them." Ajax carried on.

"It appears you are annoying her." Wednesday snapped back.

"You know what fine. Let's go." You gave in.

All of you stepped behind the Weathervane. You concentrated for a moment, shifting back into your original form. Earning gasps and "ooh" and "aah"'s from the group. You hated that.

"It's like, it reminds me of.." Kent started. "A Victoria's Secret model." He said laughing. You REALLY hated that.

You could see Xavier's breathing increasing, and the paleness of his face turning red, clenched jaw and fists. You hoped for Kent's own sake, he wouldn't say or do anything else. Poor Kent, however, felt the need to continue on. He reached out his hand in what felt like slow motion, and touched your wing, accidentally pulling a feather, and earning a yelp from you.

That done it in for Xavier, he leaped right into Kent, punching him directly in the nose. Ouch.

"Stay off of her, Don't ever touch her again." He said coldly, Ajax holding him back the best he could.

"It's okay, really." You tried to calm Xavier.

"I'm sorry man, I didn't know it was like that. I'm sorry, I was just amazed." he then looked to you.

"Hey, hey now everyone calm down." You tried to make peace. You reached your hand out to Kent to shake his.

"It's okay, Kent won't do it again, he didn't know." You mediated.

You looked at the two of them as Kent reached his hand out to shake Xavier's. Xavier was just looking at him. You let out a little cough. Xavier then shook Kent's hand.

"Never again, are we clear?" Xavier asked him.

"It never happened, it is all fine." You widened you eyes at Xavier.

The wings were ALREADY causing issues. You shifted the wings away, and headed toward class, trying to forget the events that just happened.

After school, and archery, you went to the place you promised to meet Xavier, his shed, the place he typically created art at.

He was already at the door waiting for you smiling, acting sort of shy, biting his lip. It drove you crazy when he did that. You could remember vividly what it did to you at the Rave'n Dance last year.

"Are you ready?" he asked looking you up and down.

"Absolutely." You winked at him, as you turned to the side and went into the shed.

I thought you could go right there, he pointed to a little daybed looking piece of furniture, with a velvet comforter on it.

"Okay." you took a nervous breath.

"We don't have to if you don't want to. I'm not forcing you into this." Xavier reassured you.

"No, I want to." You replied.

"Okay well, sit right over there then." he pointed. "And I'll pose you." He came over adjusting you into the exact position he wanted you in, then walking back over to the blank canvas.

"Oh. Man." He tilted his head and looked at you.

"What now?" You asked.

"Bad hair day, a little." He pointed to the jumbled feathers on your wings.

"I didn't get time to comb them okay." You defended.

"I'm not saying anything." He held his hands up.

"The comb is in my bag." You motioned to your purse you hung at the door.

He got the comb and walked toward you. No one had ever combed them except for yourself, and your mother and father. You had immediate nervousness.

"It's okay. May I?" He asked your permission, earning a nod from you. He rested one hand on your shoulder softly, as he combed your wings, with nothing but care and gentleness. You knew he had to be the one, no other could handle something like this. So fragile, so... weird. But there he was, smiling at you as he combed your giant wings, acting like it was so normal.

"Okay perfect." he stepped away looking at you. "You're perfect." he said, making you blush a little.

"Paint me like one of your French girls." You said as you went back into the pose.

"Never say that again." Xavier laughed as he began to paint. You loved watching him create art. You loved how focused, and passionate he was. Just like clockwork, the sun shined into the window, making your wings shimmer.

When he turned the finished product around, a couple hours later, you were shocked. You were amazed he could paint them so beautifully even you almost liked them. You saw him looking at your excitement, and smiling, but doing the nervous lip bite.

"Hey?" he said as a question.

"Yes?" you asked him.

"I am in love with you." He said, making your hear stop, and lightning flash through your body.

"Hey?" you asked him.

"Yes?" he repeated the same wording you did.

"I love you too." you replied.

@supermegapauselouca

[laupiehouppette]

Nothing last forever - To Lose Yourself To Find Yourself - Chapter 7: An echo from...?

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{ Chapter index }

In the factory, everyone is at their task. In the first stations, all the parts for assembly are prepared and repaired: glass, wooden crates, components. Everything is loaded onto carts and dispatched to the various stations, where the different parts of the precious devices are assembled on a conveyor belt. Once completed, they are sent to the calibration station, the last stage before passing under the watchful eye of quality control.

Those in charge of this station also manage the site and make all the major decisions in the factory. Although they manage almost everything, no one has ever seen who they are. No one has ever left or entered the mysterious room. No one knows who, or how many, work there.

He's been in the factory for almost a month. When he arrived, the floor manager, who everyone calls Jo, and who works at the calibration station and manages the teams, assigned him to the disassembly station, where the devices rejected by quality control end up. This is where everyone starts, to familiarize themselves with the different parts of the machine. Devices that simply need adjusting are sent back to the calibration station, while the others are recycled: the components are sent back to their starting point to be corrected if necessary, or recycled to make new ones. A fine organization.

But lately, many televisions are being rejected, either because they were not sufficiently calibrated, or because defective.

Defective or completely blown up.

For some strange reason, some sets come back from quality control in an absolutely deplorable state: carbonized sets, exploded screens, broken casings. This is the case with the TV he is currently disassembling. Like others, in addition to having obviously exploded, it also as, as strange as it may seem, to have melted, given the odd shapes it has taken. In such cases, there is not much to retrieve. He wonders what could have possibly caused such a thing. What would cause a TV to melt or bend like that? Something tells him he rather not know. In any case, he saves what little he can.

The end-of-day alarm sounds. At last! Tomorrow, he has the day off and can return to his real home if he wishes, and he's counting on it. Although the factory offers dormitories and even lunches to employees who live far away, there's no place like home. Like the others, he takes his things and heads for the tramway, but before he leaves, stops by to say bye to Jo, who's busy at the calibration station.

A few employees are finishing calibrating their last TVs, and once they are satisfied, they push them onto the conveyor belt to be sent to the quality control room. He spots Jo also adjusting his last TV set. He notices him immediately, despite his concentration. At the same time, he's pretty hard to miss, he's so tall.

"Ah, Morlin, how are you?"

"Fine, I can't wait to get home, I couldn't last week, with all this work. " he sighed tiredly.

"Yeah, they are picky lately. "He adds. He shares that the number of TVs exploding inexplicably also baffles him. Occasionally, he even hears one explode with a bang, which never fails to startle him and others.

"This TV's giving me a hard time, I can't adjust it". Using special screwdrivers, he calibrates the receiver and transmitter, both hidden behind the two dial knobs. Jo carefully checks the sound and picture, but no matter how hard he tries, the image struggles to remain stable. He finally removes his headset in exasperation. "It's no use, the receiver-transmitters are probably defective. "he said, digging into his pockets. He took out a pencil and went to mark a cross on the screen, but the pencil was obviously out of ink. "Arrh, dry. Can you take it straight to the disassembly station? No need to send it to the test bench, they hate it when you send them defective TVs." He asked as he left. "And get home well rested, you've got two days this time!" Jo declared before heading off to the changing rooms to collect his things.

Two days? That is perfect.

Morlin was about to fetch a cart to take the recalcitrant TV to the disassembly station, when an idea crossed his mind. What if... What if he tried to calibrate this TV. It's good for recycling anyway. He would like to see it up close, it would familiarize him more with the device, and he could just do it for a bit of fun. He puts the helmet on his head, and like his colleague, starts to turn the dimmers back and forth, hidden in the little holes that are inaccessible without the proper tools. He gives it a try, but nothing but a distorted image and a cacophonous sound. He's about to give up, when he hears a peculiar sound, like a chant. Could he have found it? He listens carefully, but the sound is terribly garbled.

He pushes one of the dials a little further and the sound becomes louder and more defined, an image even begins to appear on the screen, but it's still garbled.

As he fine-tunes, he begins to feel something exhilarating. Nervousness? Excitement? He couldn't say.

In addition to the sound, the image begins to take shape: several circles with a black triangle at their center, topped by a symbol representing an eye, and in the four corners, black circles with a negative triangle with the same eye in each. With the gradations of grey, and all those lines, this is undoubtedly the test image. But just like the sound, the image is covered in a fog of static and oscillates constantly. Indeed, the quality doesn't come close to what he's seen on other TVs, especially at home.

...

Home! He should get home instead of wasting his time on this defective TV. It's been two weeks since he's been home, and his wife must miss him as much as he does, especially since she's home alone. He got rid of the headphones and turned off the TV before going out to find a cart. He's had trouble finding a vacant one with all these rejects and scraps. He hurried back when he noticed the TV was gone. Ah, did someone take care of it? He spots the night watchman and asks him where the TV is.

"The TV that was here? Yes, someone had forgotten to push it onto the conveyor." he indicated banally.

" It shouldn't have been, it was defective! "Ah great, it's too late now.

"Well, they'll send it to the scrap-". The watchman was interrupted by a short, loud alarm resounding throughout the factory. All machines that were still running came to a halt. Morlin and the guard exchanged dismayed glances, without saying a word to each other.

As the machines came to a halt, a calm invaded the factory and the voices of workers could be heard, wondering about the change in atmosphere. "Hey, we can't get out! "exclaimed a voice in the distance.

The ceiling lights went out and were replaced by the emergency lights. The building was plunged into shadow. He had a very bad feeling. He could feel the anguish building up, and the dead calm of the machinery didn't help. After what seemed like an eternity, a crackling sound was heard from all the factory's loudspeakers. He and the guard gasped at the sudden noise.

"Whoever configured this device, report immediately. " A voice of neutral tone and timbre came from the intercoms. On the wall of the quality control room, a light came on a little further along the wall, illuminating a door in the factory's dim light.

A few curious workers had returned to the workshop. Murmurs began to rise. Morlin looked apprehensively at the door. Why do they want to see him? Is it that serious to send a defective TV? He keeps in mind that they seem more exigent than usual. Will he just get a warning?

He can only hope that those behind this door will understand that this was a simple accident, that this TV was obviously defective and would have been sent straight to disassembly, had it not been for a small mistake on everyone's part. He doesn't want to blame his two colleagues, but he's not the only one responsible in this situation. Dismayed, he shuffled towards the waiting door.

 "What's going on?" Jo asked, striding in. He spotted Morlin, looking grim, at the foot of the illuminated door, but didn't immediately understand. That's when he noticed that the recalcitrant TV that had been at the calibration station earlier, was no longer there, but it wasn't on the cart either.

***

Morlin entered the room. He expected to see other workers, in a room equipped with special tools to ensure the quality of TV sets, but to his greatest surprise, no one. The room is surprisingly empty and minimally equipped, plunged into darkness.

He can make out a few televisions on the paused conveyor, which splits in two, guiding them with the aid of divider either to packaging or recycling. Among them, a TV on a workbench, in front of another TV. He approaches, his stomach churning. A TV, on a separate workbench, is connected to a multitude of cables disappearing into the darkness above, and a strange pinkish glow form the device.

Judging by the picture quality and impeccable sound, this is undoubtedly the reference model. Nothing to do with the one in front, his own, which seems to scream in agony at times. He can see what standard the devices are supposed to meet. Is that why they called him? To show him the reference standard? It wouldn't be too bad. He doesn't want to go home and announce that he's been fired after barely a month.

That is all well and good, but where are the people who called him? How does this sector work if there is no one there?

"Mr. Morlin Hiroichi. We suspected that it was you who calibrated this television. "The same voice from earlier appeared out of nowhere. Morlin gasped, searching for the source. He was surprised that they knew his full name, but even more surprised: how did they know he was probably the one responsible? He was tempted to ask them what they meant by that, but this wasn't really the time to ask such questions.

 "Yes..." He paused, looking for the best way to simply explain the cause of this incident before they drew any conclusions, but it was he who was caught off guard.

" That is not your attribution, is it? " they questioned. He knows he should have minded his own business, but he just wanted to try. "Indeed, that TV should never have gotten there. Sorry... it was just -." He was abruptly interrupted in his mea-culpa.

" Oh but there is no need to be sorry." the voice cut in. What do they mean, there's nothing to be sorry about? He... They did screw up a bit, though, they must have wasted time inspecting a worthless TV. "It would have been unfortunate if that device had not come here." Morlin can't tell if a bad joke is being played on him. Better still, with whom has he been conversing so far? But for the moment, whoever it is who's talking, it seems they're not upset; on the contrary, they even seem pleased.

"I don't understand, this TV is far from meeting the standard. According to my colleague, the receiver-transmitter, or whatever it is, is defective." He tried to explain in his confusion.

" This is correct. The component is defective. But you still managed to get a usable signal out of it. " They remarked.

" It was... It was just luck, an accident! " He protested. There's no way it was anything but luck. Even Jo couldn't get anything out of it. He wouldn't and couldn't let on that he'd done it deliberately. He went on a whim, instinctively, just to see.

"Really?" They really didn't seem convinced. " Go and get one of the devices on the conveyor and install it in place of your 'accident'. " Well, since they insist... As requested, Morlin fetched one of the validated devices and installed it in place of the device responsible for his misfortune.

" Good, you should find the necessary tools on one of the workbenches. No need for a headset. " they indicated. Morlin looked around the room and quickly located the workbench. He headed for it and among the tools he found the two specialized screwdrivers. There was no mistaking them for ordinary screwdrivers, with the same symbol of an eye in a triangle as the tip, identical to those seen in the test image. He returned to the device, unsure of how he was going to get out of this mess.

"Now remove the covers and do what you have to do. " What a shame, he was going to ruin a perfectly calibrated TV, but if he didn't want to upset them, he'd have to try.

He switched on the TV and the test screen appeared, accompanied by a melodic note. He began by scrambling the calibration, to start from scratch. Good. Now he had to find the right tuning. Nervously, he began by trying a few random positions, as he had done earlier, but to no avail. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he begins to move from one position to the next rapidly. The device hiccups as it swings from one setting to the next. No matter how many positions he tries, he just can't seem to find the right one. He starts to panic. He turns back and forth, but nothing happens... Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! He's got to find it, or else.

" Calm down, take your time." intervenes the voice, still as calm as usual.

They're... They're right, he's just being stupid. He's got to calm down and concentrate. He took a deep breath and breathed a long sigh. He paused, taking the time to regain his composure.

He picked up the screwdrivers again, and this time slowly turned the dials, just turning and listening.

" Do not think about anything... Do not think about anything except tuning the transmission..." the voice instructed him slowly.

All right. Tune the transmission... Tune the transmission...

Without realizing it, he closed his eyes, no longer looking at the screen. He continues to turn the dials slowly, instinctively.

As he turns the screwdrivers, a strange sensation runs through his body, as it did earlier. Yes, he feels something. Something... He couldn't say. Something... familiar? He felt his heart racing again, but this time it was not from panic. It was something much more intrinsic, visceral. He couldn't understand the source of the feeling, the only thing he knew was that he wanted to reach it.

The feeling grows stronger and stronger. Everything around him disappears, it's just him and this strange feeling. The tone becomes louder and louder, but not only that: a melody, a chant seems to come into focus. A song with a voice he thinks is familiar, but he can't remember who or what it might be.

He's almost there.

A metallic noise snapped him out of his trance. He suddenly regained his senses, disorientated. What had happened? He took a few steps back, struggling to regain full awareness of his surroundings. What was all that about? He rubbed his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind. What was he doing again? His foot caught on something. How clumsy, he'd dropped his tools. But now he remembered what he was doing. He was calibrating this TV. He shook his head, clearing the haze from his mind, then picked up his tools to continue. But when he returned to the TV, he found that it was displaying the test image with impeccable sharpness, and the sound... not the slightest interference. He did this?

Behind him, the TV control emitted various sounds and images, which the freshly calibrated TV replicated to perfection. So this is how they test. The scrolling of images and sounds continued, until they returned with the default image and sound.

So, what's the verdict?

"Excellent! Absolutely excellent!" rejoices the voice on the intercom.

He takes a deep breath, sitting on the TV that got him into this situation. He can't believe what he's managed to do. He wonders how they can see and hear him, but it doesn't matter, they're satisfied and that's what counts.

"Congratulations, you have been promoted to the post of calibrator! "they declare.

Did he hear right? Promoted to calibrator? He must be dreaming. After such a short time and so easily? He's been working too much and he's delirious. The calibrator's job is one of the most important jobs; even the most impeccably assembled TV isn't worth much without a good calibration, being nothing but a noisy box.

"I don't know what to say... are you sure?" Rubbing his head.

"It would give us great pleasure to have your talent in this position ." They enrich.

They seem sure of themselves. A promotion like this, so quickly, can't be refused.

"Well... it would be a pleasure. Thank you very much." He replies confused, hoping he'll stay up to their expectations.

"Wonderful. You can now dismiss." They continued.

"Thank you" Morlin saluted, not sure if he'd been seen, and headed for the door by which he'd entered.

"Wait!" intervened the voice again. "Bring your television home. We would like to know it in your home."

A promotion AND a reward? What an evening.

***

In the workshop, Jo is pacing back and forth.

"What are they doing? What are they doing?" he repeated.

The other employees had already left a while ago. Shortly after Morlin entered the quality control room, the doors unlocked, allowing the workers to leave. But only Jo and the night watchman remained.

"You'd better get going. The next train arrives in a few minutes." Tried to reason the guard.

"If I had marked that junk, he wouldn't have been called out!" He raged against himself.

The night watchman sighed. "I understand... And I also should have minded my own busi- ." He stopped when a noise was heard behind the door. When the door opened, Morlin emerged from the room and, on a cart, a brand-new television.

 "Morlin! What did they say? What did they say?" Rushed his colleague. "What's with the TV? It's..." He questioned uneasily.

Morlin, still a little stunned by the news, struggled to answer. "Promotion..."

 " Sorry?" Jo replied incredulously.

Bells of the next train could be heard in the distance.

 " I'll explain on the train. Will you help me carry this thing to the delivery center? "

***

"Well well. For a moment, I thought they'd fired you and given you the crappy TV as a bad joke." Joked Jo.

"I wasn't expecting that this tonight either... When I tell Marly..."

The rest of the trip home was in good spirits. Jo suggested celebrating this promotion with his wife. It really wouldn't be a bad idea. Even if she liked cooking, she wont  have to prepare a last-minute meal for this special evening.

***

In the apartment, Mme Marly watches her favorite show, Chef Radish, a specialist in small dishes made from very little. With the weekly food delivery now nearly 3 weeks overdue, she's as out of ideas as she is out of ingredients.

The show drew to a conclusion when there was a knock on the door. Could this be the long-awaited food delivery? The timing would be perfect. When she opened the door, it wasn't the old delivery man, it was a much better visitor. She was delighted to see her husband again; two weeks without seeing each other is a long time.

He entered and embraced his wife. It's good to see each other again. She asked him how things were going over back at work. He wasn't going to lie, it was going very well. Before telling her the good new, he should get changed. Besides, he wanted to look around the house a bit. Nothing had changed, or hardly anything, but it seemed a bit more light. He went to the end of the corridor. The room next to the bathroom had always been a mystery to him. It's a bedroom, all right, but he doesn't understand the reason for another bedroom, if they've already got one for themselves and bed's too small for a guest. Meh, his head's not in that, he'd better go and change; they must not linger too long here if they want to have a seat at the restaurant.

After changing, Morlin joined Marly. She was wondering what she could do for dinner. She already didn't expect her man to come home tonight, there wasn't much left but rice and some powdered soup.

"'Forget about that, how about going to the Gallina?" He asked with a smile.

"Oh, it's been so long. But it's rather costly, isn't it?" It's true that this restaurant, while not being gastronomic, isn't for everyone's budget. It's probably the only restaurant in town to propose something else than soups and meat stews of questionable freshness (and origin). Gallina's specialty, not to say exclusivity, is poultry and its by-products, and fresh please. She asked him the reason for such a proposal.

"I've got something to tell you, but it's a surprise".

***

Approaching the house, it's very quiet in the early evening, it's time to eat... for most. Since food was running out in the apartment, Mono went in search of food. Unfortunately, his search was unsuccessful, and he came back with empty hands and an empty stomach.

He's so hungry that he's tempted to eat one of the plants growing between the cracks in the concrete, but the last time he ate something from a plant, one of the little things in a hard shell that fell from the big tree in the park, he got a stomachache and regurgitated what little he had eaten that day... Yet he saw some strange striped mice eating those. He had also tried to eat the leaves from the trees, but the taste was awful, bitter.

...

Yes, he's starving, but if he gets sicker than last time, how's he going to look for food? He might get sick, which is unforgiving, and still be hungry, but if he doesn't eat soon, he will be too weak to go for food hunt, or too slow to escape danger (and the same if he gets sick). A complicated dilemma.

Maybe he could try just one bite, just to see if one of these plants is at least edible, for next time.

Mono observes the few greens emerging from the concrete. There are grass tufts, serrated-edged leaves, all sorts of other plants with different leaves and appearances. He sets his mind on a large-leafed plant, with stems covered in tiny sprouts. The leaves look tough and hard to eat, but the stems look softer (and more edible). He chews a piece, to test it, and the taste is quite peculiar, almost tasting like mushrooms, but greener. Not bad, not bad at all, it could be even better... if he had something to go with it. He takes some small bites and, with a bit of luck, this plant will be able to sustain him in the future, if it doesn't give him a stomachache.

Now, home. Staying with adult 'parents' has the advantage of providing a (very) relative security and stability, especially at night. Nevertheless, these adults always represent a threat, with their unpredictable reactions to 'disturbances', when they don't happen to step or sit, even inadvertently, on a child who hasn't moved out of the way in time. Also, to be able to return to the shelter every nights, it's best not to stray too far, and so restrict the foraging area. And sooner or later, the local adults no longer tolerate their little squatters, and it's best to have left before that happens. But for the moment, regarding his situation, there are more advantages than disadvantages.

Once inside the residential building, Mono goes through the ventilation ducts as usual. On the way, he comes across a friendly face. A boy a little taller than him, dressed in a red sweater and hat.

"Hey Tomah!" He whispers, waving. The boy, happy to see his friend, responds with a wave as well and joins him.

"Mono! How you doing?" He asked in a low voice.

Mono shrugged, it could be better, but it could be worse. Mono asked for some news about Olivie, if she was better. Tomah didn't hide his sorrow. She was still recovering from her sister's brutal death. Seeing her sister eaten alive before her eyes, and being unable to do anything but hide so she wouldn't be next... There are more pleasant experiences. Tomah did try to change her mind, by taking her with him food hunt, but she didn't dare go with him, still believing it was her fault that her sister had died. Mono could only sympathize, he knows exactly how it feels ; He's already had the unfortunate opportunity to witness a similar scene. He shudders just remembering it. 

The two boys exchanged a sullen silence. Better to talk about something else.

They asked each other how the search for food was going, and like Mono, Tomah was no doing any better. He too depended on the leftovers of his adults, who in turn depended in part on the old deliveryman. Speaking of which...

"You seen them? "Mono asks,

"No, not even his coughing wheeler." Tomah laments.

That's too bad. It means that the man and his old wheeler might not even be around. For all they know, one or both of them are too sick to come and distribute food to the adults and monsters in town. Both of them were coughing a lot the last time he saw them. If this keeps up, he will have to go much farther than usual, leaving for more than one or several days, and at that point, he might as well leave for good.

" You wanna look with me next time? "Tomah suggests. Mono nods without hesitation. Usually, everyone goes their own way when the need presents itself; it's rare for needs to correspond at the same time. But here, yes. Together, they will have a little more mobility, strength to overcome obstacles and, above all, more eyes and ears, to look for danger. It would be even better if Olivie came along, she's so agile, but she still needs a little time. They will manage without her.

"To the big tree tomorrow?" Mono asks.

"At cloudrise." confirmed the other boy. With that, they said good-bye to each other and headed back to their shelters.

When Mono arrives home, he notices that the atmosphere is different: he finds the place very quiet, even too quiet. Usually, at this time, the TV's  on, even in the background. But here, not a sound, not a noise in the whole place. He goes to the living room, and as he might have expected, the TV is off. He's struck by doubt. He hopes it's not what he thinks it is, it can't be, she's far from being ravaged by that screen, not as much as the other adults he's seen sucked away, leaving only their clothes behind.

Clothes! If he doesn't find the empty clothes... He looks around and finds her neither in the kitchen nor in the big bedroom where she sleeps, nowhere. Not the slightest trace of his mother, not even empty clothes. Phew... It's apparently not for tonight…

So she is out? Maybe she too couldn't wait for the food delivery any more. If so, he'd better wait for her return. When the man came to bring food, she put the food in the high cupboards, and the rest in the big cold cabinet, which was far too hard to open for him. So, as soon as she comes in, he'll have to hurry up and take whatever he can grab without too much difficulty and hide it in his room. He would have liked to ask Tomah for help, but it's far too dangerous. Unlike him, if they were spotted, his friend could be killed, kicked or squashed with a broom. Just the thought of his friend's barely recognizable body in a blood pool, froze him with horror. No piece of bread is worth losing a friend like that.

He'll have to fend for himself, but that won't stop him from sharing whatever can he finds with Tomah and Olivie. Maybe they won't even have to go out tomorrow.

In the meantime, he'll go to his room and pass the time, doodle a little, maybe it will take his mind off his hunger for a while and keep him awake.

***

It was quite a walk to get to the Gallina, but it's always worth it. The establishment is easy to recognize with its proud rooster sign. It's already a little crowded at this hour, but it's not yet rush hour.

At one of the tables on the terrace, two men are seated, and judging by their outfits, they're here to talk business. One of them seems to have a purse as large as his belly, given the mountain of dishes next to him (and the mountain that he is) that a waiter has just cleared away, while another brings the rest: a large bowl of rice with a mixture of eggs and poultry. Maybe they could have the same thing? It looks delicious, with the yolk still runny.

Once settled, an aperitif soup was served. A delicate poultry broth and a few herbs. Nothing better to warm up the appetite. For the rest, they didn't have to wait long The dish he had seen earlier looked even better up close. It looked like a mix of all the best things Gallina has to offer: rice, egg, poultry and vegetables. There's even a little broth at the bottom.

Once the dinner had started, Marly asked Morlin what made such a meal worthwhile. He could hardly believe it himself, but he had to face the facts. He explained that he'd been promoted from disassembler to calibrator. An unprecedented promotion.

"Oh, that's wonderful! How did you do it?" She couldn't believe her ears.

Ah, yes, how did he do it, that's the question he still asking himself, he explained. Describing the feeling he had when he was looking for the right frequency was difficult, he'd never felt anything like it. The best way he could explain it is "familiar". Maybe he'll understand it better when he adjusts others TVs.

For the rest of the meal, they discussed what was happening on their side. Marly recounted how she and Genna, the cleaning lady, had become good friends after the latter had a good fright after seeing a so call vermin in a bedroom. She's never seen what kind of vermin it might be, but it would explain some strangeness in the house.

Morlin, meanwhile, shares the radio program he discovered and now listens to after work. It is the story about a detective investigating on strange events and disappearances in the city. The direction, dialogue and characters are so convincing, they feel real.

Time passed quickly, and soon it was dark. They should get home.

***

By the time they got home, it was later than he'd expected, but what did it matter? Tomorrow and the day after, he'd be able to rest and relax at last.

On the way home, he hesitated to tell her that the device that had earned him this promotion was on its way, but he preferred to keep it a surprise. Who knows for how long he wouldn't be able to go home with this new job.

He went to the bathroom to freshen up, when light from a bedroom caught his eye. How's that? Wasn't everything off when he left? He entered the room and saw a bedside light on a small table. Bah... He'd simply missed it in his haste.

He approached to switch off the lamp when he saw something on the table move a little, something rather small. Once closer, he struggles to make sense of what he sees. It looks like a small being, apparently dozing, among sheets and pencils. He continues to observe the little being. After a moment, a strange sensation invaded his mind. Slowly, he unconsciously moved his hand closer. The little creature slowly turned over in its apparent torpor, and suddenly seemed to jolt.

Without knowing why, he had the impulse to seize the little thing before it ran away. The little creature began to struggle and make whimpering noises, but he couldn't make sense of them (if they made any sense at all.) The little thing's agitation grew so great that he had to tighten his grip a little more, to prevent it slipping out of his grasp. The little thing began to pull on his sleeve, moaning louder and louder.

The strange sensation grew stronger and stronger. It's the same as at the factory. How can this be? Unconsciously, he tightened his grip and moved his other hand closer to get a better look at the little being, when a sharp noise and pinch on his thumb made him let go. Did it bite him?! The little creature fell heavily onto the table and, before he could react, had already jumped up and disappeared under the bed.

Oh no, too bad.

He would have liked to take a closer look. Maybe he can still take a look at it? But before he could investigate further, a voice called to him in the distance, and just like that, it drove the idea of the little being from his mind. What had he come to do again? Yes, the lamp. He turned it off and left the room.

All the same, he left the room feeling as if he'd forgotten something.

Something important.

{ Chapter index }

--<O>-- ------------------------------------------------

But what could be the source of that strange feeling that dear Morlin felt through screens and through that little thing that was sleeping in his house… Mmmmhh…Boh, it's probably not important. Poor Mono though, I think there are slightly nicer ways to be woken up. Not all adults in this world are necessarily ill-intentioned towards children, but they tend to forget, or rather, don't think about being gentle with those little things. So sometimes there are…unfortunate accidents. Fortunately, our boy managed to get his inquisitive father to let go.

[lemonluvgirl]

Please sort The Hunger Games characters into HoGwaRtS Houses :

For reference (according wikia)

Hufflepuff : Loyalty and hard working

Gryffindor : Bravery and chivalry

Ravenclaw : Wit and learning

Slytherin : Cunning and ambition

You can include as many characters as you want/can.

And you can give a reason why do you sort that character into that house.

Thank you so much 😊

PS : this is just for fun, if you don't like HP or THG, just ignore this ask 🔥

@curiousnonny

I actually do like Harry Potter :) and I love the Hunger Games, so I would be happy to participate!

Ok, so I guess I'll start with the characters in the order they appear:

Katniss-Gyrrifindor because she's just got that brave, pure hearted, heroine vibe. The only other house I could see her in would be Hufflepuff, maybe. But then again I think Katniss' foremost trait is bravery, beyond even her loyalty or her hard working nature. Also that whole chivalry thing, if I tweak the idea so that it applies in Katniss' case, I would say that Katniss does have a lot of qualities of the original idea of chivalry. Because the concept of chivalry was developed in the middle ages, as a code of honor for knights to follow. And one of the classic codes of honor was to protect the weak, which Katniss OBVIOUSLY excels at.

Prim-has to be Hufflepuff because she's a classic hufflepuff. She's constantly loyal to Katniss, even when Katniss pulls away from everyone and doesn't explain what she's going through. Also she was selected for the doctor program in D13 when she was just fourteen years old. That girl was HARDWORKING. There's no doubt about it. She's a super hufflepuff.

Gale-I would actually sort him into Ravenclaw, even though he does have a good amount of ambition. He could be Sytherin, especially in the last novel. But I'm working off the idea that the hat sorts people at a young age, before things like war and hardship change them. I always saw his inherent nature as being someone who seeks and searches for knowledge and freedom. I think a lot of his resentment came from the oppression he was born under and the lack of opportunities for betterment. I feel like he would thrive in Ravenclaw.

Effie-I think would be Ravenclaw or Slytherin. She's smart, (she has a specialized degree in architecture) and ambitious so either one would do for her.

Haymitch I would sort into Gryffindor. Definitely. Because in his youth he was extremely brave, (his behavior during his Quarter Quell was pretty admirable, especially in reference to Maysilee Donner) (I would still argue he's brave in his old age, I mean he was willing to go back into the Games during the Quarter Quell to save Peeta's life) and he does some seriously chivalrous things in the books as Katniss and Peeta's mentor. He doesn't allow the Capitol doctors to surgically enhance Katniss after her and Peeta's games (they wanted to give her fake boobs). He tries to protect Katniss and Peeta from the horrors and debaucherie of the Capitol.

Finnick - Gryffindor as well. He's very brave, and despite all he's been through he is actually a chivalrous person. He is one of Peeta's best protectors and friends throughout Mockingjay. He seems to me like a man of action, a lot like Katniss. Jump in feet first and think about the consequences later. All bravery and noble intentions.

Johanna- I'm going Slytherin because it feels like a seriously good fit for her. She's be so happy there. She'd rule the roost quite easily I think.

Peeta- I saved the best for last because, well, its Peeta hello. Anyways, I hope no one vilifies me for this but I honestly think Peeta fits into Slytherin quite nicely. I like how one professor who wrote an explaination of his character described him. He said Peeta was a renaissance man. He is a person with talents and areas of knowledge (painting, baking, speaking to large crowds), he is worldly, more so than Katniss. He automatically figures out the other tributes strategy that puts Katniss off her game before the Quarter Quell (the whole making her uncomfortable and teasing her because she's pure thing). He also is a very good liar, and is great at deception. Like seriously, even Katniss says so in Catching Fire. And let's not forget his subtle manipulations of the audience and of other characters all throughout the books. "She came here with me." "We're madly in love, so feel free to kiss me at any time." "If it weren't for the baby" "Katniss isn't aware of how the rebels are using her image" etc. etc. So he's remarkably cunning. And I also think he's pretty ambitious. He went into the Hunger Games with a plan. To join the FREAKING Careers as a false flag, to gain their trust and then ultimately betray them, in order to save Katniss. The dude is a strategist. But he also has a damn heart of gold. Like he uses his powers for good, not evil and wow that's so hot to me.

But anyways enough of me thirsting over Peeta. Again all these house sorting decisions are all just MY OPINIONS. So nobody come after me because of this Hypothetical situation.

But this was fun <3

[onmywaytofanfic]

Reina Aburame: General info

Wordd count : 1809 Bio only 1662

So, I have been lately feeling down when it comes to my writing and what comes out of it. I feel that everything that I have written so far regarding my OCs and the story seems low quality. I have tried to solve this by rumbling and trying to create headcannons and a better structure to what I do. The solution that I have foound is this, a little bit of Reina. I need to keep writing progressing. But, I do see this platform as my vent place where I post this nonsense that I call fic.

Hope that this brings a little bit of light into who Reina is and his going to be. I will write that with all my OCs, just to bring some context, or trying to, into my fic since I have got the feeling that I am doing a huge mess.

Reina Aburame

Age: (Promises) 18 (Untold) 21

Height: 1,60cm

Weight: (Promises) below 50 (Untold) 75 kg.

Sexual orientation: ¿?

Gender: ¿?

Bio and relationships: She seems quite shy, however that is the effect of the Yamanaka seal upon her for so many years. Once she was freed from the “Outburst seal” from the Yamanaka’s her real self could appeared and be as chatty and lovely as she wished for. That seal sent strong electric shock to her spine every time that she had an outburst of emotion, regardless fi the emotion was considered positive or negative. She does introduce herself as female, but she does not care which pronouns people use with her. Her sibling has tried to explain to her if she feels non-binary like them, she just shrugs and says “I just want to let the worries of living another day faint. I am just comfortable being myself, if you think that makes me non-binary then I am non-binary. If you think it does not, then I am not”. She has never questioned her gender identity. She is really carefree about her sexuality and gender.

More things about her. As an Aburame, she does have a hive, however, when she was infused with the seals the hive started to fade and disappear. Up to the point that during the events in Promises, she had a hive that was less than 100 insects. When she had her hive back, she started to blend her Aburame and Uzumaki side in terms of her jutsus. She achieved that some of her bugs, after a rigorous training and breeding, are a little bit bigger than the average kikaichu, just 2 mm bigger, and they have the possibility to store in them jutsus and seal such as the Uzumaki’s. It requires big quantities of chackra and the sacrifice of some insects form her hive. She sends her insects in special formations that represent the seal, consequently, she can make long distance seals without been caught in the middle of the battle. Those kikaichu that are bigger, can resist the release of the seal better than others. Therefore, those are saved for big seals or special jutsus.

As an Aburame, the first time that she saw Shino she was really weak, and her hive did not vibrate with his as his did. He thought that it was a bad sign, meaning that his hive and he had found someone with whom he could resonate and being loved, but her hive did not consider his hive worthy. The truth was that she was so feeble that her hive was trying to take care of her before even trying to seek for a partner. In my canon, Aburame’s resonate when they find a mate that they and their hives see as prosperous for them. There are little records of cases in which this resonance has not work, (Reina’s grandfather is one of those, and his great-grandfather never resonate), or that it rumbles again as well as doing it with two mates simultaneously. Once her hive was care for and better, she did rumble for him. Although, at the beginning she could not control the volume nor the buzzing of her insect because she had to re-learnt everything that she did when she had a proper hive. She felt so ashamed and wanted to distance herself form Shino, afraid of shame him. He worked with her in her training and support her greatly. He finds it adorable the way that her hive buzzed. She still does, because sometimes she cannot hold her hive still. What he loves about her is when she gets so nervous that a few insects start to tickle her cheeks or in her chin, making it look as she has multiple dimples.

She works in Muta’s family book-café. Although her brothers, Danuja Uchiha and Goro Hyuga, want her to keep pursuing the shinobi career as they do. They do not want her three members squad to be dismantle or her to be change for somebody that they do not know. They are older than she and quite bossy, especially Danuja. They enjoy their team, and they do make a good team and want to keep it like this. However, Reina has seen in Konoha a place where she can finally rest after been the seed for a whole village for 10 years. As a seed, the village ground took her chakra to not just keep the barrier on but also to produce every type of food in the village. At the beginning her ancestors had it a little bit easier, but the Komado family found how to abuse of this, and the village grew without control, mostly because of how they welcomed rogue ninjas. That was something that the noble clans were against it, but due to the “Incident” they did not have form to express their thoughts. They were regard as “things” that protected the village and that was their only purpose, make the village safe AND happy.

She also has three more siblings, two of them have already appear in “Untold”. Chikako Akimichi is a trans-woman, she has two years more than Reina, they are the closest and they have always been like that. They love each other unconditionally, as a matter-of-fact Chikako renamed herself like that out of Reina’s lovely mumbling when she was a baby. She always knew who she was, but the circumstances led her to hide her identity from the villagers but not from her family. Her dead name is Chikao, she liked because it was given by her mother who she admires deeply. However, tiny Reina could not avoid put a “k” at the end. She ended out loving it and feels that represents herself completely. As a sister and daughter. She loves her name and treasures it, her nickname is Kazu.

Something similar happened to her brother Genkei Yamanaka. He is a trans-man, he was the worst at hidden who he really was to the villagers. Because of that he was the most resentful towards the villagers and hates them the most. He would not flinch if he saw the whole houses burn and Kagenogure erased from existence. He is a very creative mind and was the one that put the band together. In an alternative AU they will have a Industrial Metal band, however right now I do not know how to fit those strong sounds into the Narutoverse, but I want to be a Heavy Metal Band too. He is the singers of it, and after he has started to treat his transition correctly in Konoha he has fall even more in love with his harsh and deep voice.

Finally, “Mother duck”, Shiori Nara. They are the eldest sibling out of the six of them, they have 6 years more than Reina. They identify as non-binary and only lets his parents and sister call them by “she”. They actually, their siblings, do so when they have to congregate “the sisterhood”. Mostly, to talk about things that the other three do not care about or are rude, also they do that when they have gossips. They are calm, collected and a little bit overprotective over all their siblings. They got the feeling off been a “parent-like-figure” to them, and sometimes they behave as such.

Reina’s direct blood family consist in her father, grandfather and great-grandfather. Takeo Aburame is her father, he deeply loves her and will willingly give whatever it may be to make her child happy and protect her. Proof of this is missing right arm, given so he could stay with his daughter until she bleeds. When that time happened Shiori came with a brilliant idea that let him have her until the rescue team arrived. Cold and firm in his manners, but warm and caring when it comes to Reina. He is not afraid to call her “Ladybug” in public or hold her hand when they cross the road although she is a grown-up. She lets him do it, those are his forms of showing how much doe he cares for her.

Takehiko his her great-grandpa, he is the opposite of an Aburame. Old and wrinkled he is not afraid to speak his mind and do “crazy” things such as enjoy himself without caring what other might thing of his insect covering him or been outside his body. He is an old gizzer and a pervert who never found true love. His homosexuality was an issue for a village so close in mind but not for Chio. She is Reina’s great-grandmother, and although she left this earth a couple of years ago, she left it fighting and being grumpy. She was also homosexual and together with Takehiko decided to make a family. They wanted to be parents but there was no form for them to make the family that they wished for, so they help each other to achieve that dream. Out of that dream came Buna, her grandpa. He is stoic, short in word and even colder than her father. However, he has other forms to show his gratitude and love, for example taking off his jacket to cover his granddaughter. His heart is severely hurt after Hana’s mother refusal, Reina’s grandmother on her mother-side; however, he understood it an took her child Hana into care. He never thought that she would fall in love with his child and gave him her lovely granddaughter.

Buna and Takeo are really protective over Reina, something that Takehiko blames them and reprehends them constantly. Takeo does not want Reina to be gone from his side by mating with Shino. If Takeo could, he would kill Shino or force his hive to be infatuated for another person. However, he knows hat sooner or later she would leave the nest and make her own…that does not mean that he would try to delay that event as much as he can. He has his father support after all.

[melien]

That's a good one! So, buckle up! This one goes out to the possible lurkers who may be wondering what the hell I'm talking about when I allude to me having had to restructure my verse for Lennias, so here it is.

(it got long so I'm putting it under the cut)

So the backbone of my character verse was always my Fletcher legacy, mainly generations 6 to 8. There was a time when I started focusing more on gen 8 and, so to say, neglecting gen 7 a bit, only mentioning them as the parent generation for the current characters. Tobias was originally the heir of gen 7 and his partner in the legacy was Nathaniel, aka Nate. I liked them originally but then eventually kinda got stuck and bored with them as I didn't feel like they had much chemistry anymore, but I kept them because of the gen 8 heir and (originally) their daughter, Irene.

I still wanted to come back to gen 7 someday as I did feel attached to them and their stories, and Tobias was a cool musician so I created a band for him - Galactic Crusade. One of the bandmates was Lennon, who was supposed to be Tobias'... ex, ex-situationship, high school crush, good friend, best friend, etc. depending on the previous iterations of the story. Their first encounter was in one of my old stories that had incredibly embarrassing dialogues (classic 2017) but these two were roommates there and even were supposed to date eventually, to Nate's jealousy. Since then, Lennon was always in every story and gameplay save (many of them were private and I never shared them, maybe I will show some of them someday for fun) and they definitely had chemistry with Tobias and oftentimes Nate felt like a third wheel with them, not to mention they're bandmates so both are musicians and have a lot of things in common. I generally had insecurities about Nate and Tobias and they were just not working as a couple anymore in the storyverse.

So one day I just got hit by an epiphany that I want Tobias and Lennon to be a proper couple, caved in, put them together, and the massivest brainrot in history started immediately after so I knew it was the right decision. Buuuuuut initially it wasn't as easy because they both had kids with different people (Tobias with Nate, and I will not mention Lennon's spouse as it was the most cursed sim/character ever and I shudder when I remember him, shortly their dynamic was awfully abusive no matter how you put it and even revamping him did nothing and it was putting a bad taste in my mouth). So I tried to make it that within the verse they get together later after their unsuccessful first relationships and kids.

But it didn't work - with every new photoshoot, fic, anything I did with Lennias they just kept proving they're NOT the types that would just let each other go and date other people, especially in Lennon's case (I will refer to their former spouse as J as he's gone through three - no, even four - different J names. He was a toxic asshole with no redeeming qualities at all and I didn't know why on earth, even within the verse, even temporarily, Lennon would have any feelings for him, let alone choose him over Tobias and get to the point of having kids with him - I was struggling to come up with an explanation for this that didn't look like Lennon being dismissive of Tobias and leading him on fully knowing about his feelings for the sake of some questionable guy they just met, and Tobias not being attentive enough to them or raising alarm bells if they were coerced and manipulated by J. And was it even worth it if I wasn't even desperate for J to exist and didn't like him as a character? Like he wasn't even complex and basically just a plain villain). Within the verse, Lennias were supposed to date as teens then break up and reconnect as friends, but they were always very special to each other and basically spent all their time together in the band and were affectionate with each other, and in this environment, especially with the support of their friends, they were bound to get back together pretty soon (also, the current version of Lennon is demisexual, they've never had any even remotely serious feelings for anyone but Tobias). I do love angst about letting your person go and dating someone else but here it just didn't make sense, it's not them, especially in the circumstances they were in. Even outside of the verse they're both some of my longest-existing characters and they've been through a lot (of my bullshit haha) and I just wanted them to have a break from all the stuff and be happy together. Also I just hated J with a passion. Literally I've never hated a character so much, he had 0 positive contributions at all. The old fics and stories where me and my gf tried to ship them were like literally abusive (we were young and trying to do dramatic enemies to lovers but it really crossed the line). With time I understood that Lennon is my precious sunshine, they're like my top tier favourite character and I didn't want them anywhere near J anymore. I never even saw them seriously liking J or even falling for his love bombing, all the previous story iterations were more like J having an obsessive predatory crush on Lennon and stalking them and even giving r*pey vibes.

But putting Tobias and Lennon together as a permanent couple required sacrifices of removing their kids. So I made a hard decision to remove them (even though they were my favourites and it wasn't easy) and give Lennias their own two daughters kind of based on the old ones. Well, the new daughters, Harper and Eden, developed differently and became whole separate characters. On top of that I started missing the old kids as they were pretty iconic and I loved writing about them and it wasn't the same without them. At that point I felt like my verse was such a mess and didn't know where to rebuild it, these weren't the only reasons for it either but it's a long story.

So now everyone coexists because I changed some parentage and it just clicked! Tobias' old kids, Lydia and Irene, are now kids of his sister Felicity (and Nate). Lennon's old kids, Gwen and Taylor, are now kids of their half-brother Sebastian (originally I tried to give him J as well but then he just got booted from the verse, buh-bye). In fact he now only exists in one meta universe where in the end Lennon kills him, what a satisfying ending to J. And of course, there's Harper and Eden, their kids together! So we have 6 beautiful sisters/cousins now, and it took time, but the verse is flourishing and I refer to them as my little women. ❤️

📩 Simblr question of the day: Have you ever needed to scrap or change your plans because the story got away from you and developed in ways you couldn't have predicted?

answer in whatever way is most comfortable for you and feel free to share this SQOTD around, make sure to use the hashtag SQOTD and tag me in separate posts ~ 💛

This question was contributed by an anon ~ Thank you for submitting multiple questions ~ (This is question 10 of 13 from this anon)

[otptings]

변태

☂︎Idol: Huang Renjun & Na Jaemin

☂︎Requested: yessss renjun accidentally watches jaemin giving his girlfriend head, then asks Jaemin if she can peg him. threesome ensues

☂︎Genre: Smut

☂︎Word Count: 4.1k+

☂︎Warnings: voyeurism, mentioned porn video very Renjun centric, threesome (mxmxf), there is mxm in this, oral (m receiving), hand job (mxm), anal fingering (m x f), riding (m x m), pegging (m x f), edging (completely unintentional but not unwanted) , small dick Renjun,

☂︎Synopsis: Renjun isn't a pervert. At least that's what he told himself when he accidentally saw you and Jaemin having sex. Then why can't he stop thinking about it?

☂︎Disclaimer: this is no way supposed to represent Renjun seriously, I know that there is a harmful stereotype of Japanese men being perverts, and while Renjun isn't Japanese I know that it may seem like I am trying to perpetuate it, this is a work of fiction as all my works are. This is in no way saying this is who/how Renjun is, it's a simple work of fiction about voyeurism

☂︎A/n: I had a lot of fun doing this fic, I know my quality (specifically sex scenes) has dropped recently, but it was because I was very busy packing, and saving money plus I was having awful writer's blocker and couldn't figure it out. that is my bad, I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for too long so I sacrificed my quality which I will not be doing any longer. I hope you enjoyed this and if you did please like, reblog, or donate to my ko-fi or cash app in my bio. requests are open for SVT, Treasure, and Enhypen

Renjun was not a pervert. He assumed that he was asexual, having no sexual attraction to any person he’d met. That’s not to say that he never tried, he had attempted to masturbate. He picked the first video he saw on the website, something about a petite college girl. Her fake - and frankly annoying - high pitched moans had killed any hopes of it being a pleasant experience, and watching the buff man with an extraordinarily small penis fuck her did nothing for him, not even a twitch. Sliding his hand dones his pants he stroked his cock a few times, still not feeling anything special when Haecan burst into their shared room.

He never did that again.

This was different. A part of him felt guilty for watching, but for possibly the first time in 21 years his cock stirred in his pants. Your grip on Jaemin’s hair was tight as you kept him close to your cunt. Renjun couldn’t see what Jaemin was doing, but he could hear it, the obscene slurping sounds combined with your moans. They weren’t the same as the girl in the porn video he’d watched years ago, these were real. Breathy moans that broke off to whimpers as you praised Jaemin, telling him how good he was as you grinded down on his face, your hips bucking off of the bed every so often as if you couldn’t contain your pleasure.

Renjun was impossibly hard, his cock was painfully straining against the front of his jeans. Slowly backing away from the cracked door Renjun silently walked to his room, neighboring the one you two were occupying. Closing and locking the door behind Renjun didn’t bother taking the two extra steps to his bed, sliding out of his pants and pressing his back against the door as he grabbed the base of his aching cock. Relief was instantaneous as he stroked his cock, rubbing his palm over the sticky tip and using his precum to help the slide. He could still hear your moans, they were louder, almost as if you knew you had an audience.

For a split second Renjun thought about what he was doing. He had watched the two of in an obvious sexual act, gotten hard enough that it was painful, and was now stroking his wet cock to the sound of you and one of his best-friends having sex. That was a fleeting thought because your next moan was a scream of Jaemin’s name, ending with what sounded like sobbing. That’s all it took before Renjun was cumming over his hand, so much of it that the thick white fluid dripped onto his thighs and a little on his carpeted floor.

Leaning his head back against the door Renjun tried to regulate his breathing, focusing on the mess that he’d made all over himself. He was fucked.

He could dwell on that later. Priority was cleaning the carpet before it stained.

-

Renjun would love to say that he behaved normally after what he had witnessed. That would be a lie. Ever since that night he couldn’t be in the same room with either of you without picturing your knuckles flexed from how hard they were holding Jaemin’s hair, the slurping noises that would typically make him feel nauseous while listening to asmr, but only made his cock stir every time he remembered it. How your moans sounded, so undeniably real.

That’s not the only thing that’s changed since his accidental voyeurism.

He started watching porn, and not the same shitty pornhub videos from when he was a teenager just trying to figure it out. These were much, much better.

He found a new site with different types of videos, none with click bait titles. The videos weren’t made using porn stars who were obviously faking it in order to get a check, they were real couples posting their sex tapes - which would normally make Renjun feel weird watching, but he could only ignore his erection for so long. He found one couple that resembled you and Jaemin, same body build and even similar hair colors. After watching the first video he felt guilty, physically getting off to you guys once was bad, purposefully watching porn videos while imagining the couple were you two is a different ballpark. He tried watching other couples, but none of them made him as hard - or cum - like the first page did, so he went back.

One night after practice Renjun saw that the couple had posted a new video, only titled surprise. The thumbnail was of the girl holding a pair of black fluffy handcuffs and a blind fold. Once he was alone in his room he pressed play and his face instantly went bright red. The guy was laying on his stomach with his wrists handcuffed to the headboard and blindfold tied around his eyes. His position made it so that the camera saw everything. The girl talked to the camera for a while before pulling out a decent sized dildo, larger than Renjun but not large enough to cause any real damage. It was easy to pretend it was you and Jaemin when they both turned the window, neither paying true attention to the camera. Renjun slipped his hands in his shorts and watched, fascinated with how she worked him open so quickly, making him beg and whine as she continuously slid more fingers in until he was ready. She slipped inside of him with ease, and it was over for Renjun.

He spiraled. Badly.

There was no way he could pretend that everything was normal. He wanted that badly - he’d later found out after another similar video it was called pegging - and the only person he could trust enough to do it was you. But it wasn’t only you he wanted, he wanted Jaemin to.

With this new revelation of being sexually attracted to his best friend and his girlfriend Renjun couldn’t bring himself to face either of you. Life became a chore, skillfully avoiding Jaemin during practices, making sure that their recording times weren’t the same. During practice he would stay as far away from Jaemin as possible during breaks. When all of them would return back to the dorm for dinner, Renjun would go straight to his room, waving off the plate of food you held out for him with a toothless smile. Pressing his back against the door. How could he face you when he’s started seeing so many new things?

It’s been almost two months since Renjun watched Jaemin going down on you, and in those two months he’s realized just how different your relationship is than from any he’s seen - in kdramas. You’re dominant everyday, not just in the bedroom. The way Jaemin is constantly asking you for permission, even for the smallest of things despite him being older than you. You mention very vague punishments that only now Renjun can see are sexual. Renjun tries to push it to the back of his mind but he was working on art late one night and swore that he heard Jaemin call you master - thin fucking dorm walls.

It all came to a head shortly after the 2 months and 2 week mark.

“What’s wrong with you?” Renjun practically jumped out of his skin at the voice, whipping his head to the doorway and instantly becoming shy. Jaemin was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His white shirt did nothing to hide the muscle that he had steadily been packing on during their ‘unemployment’ and his shorts left little to the imagination. In other words, he looked completely fuckable.

“N-nothing.”

“You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Did I do something?” Shaking his head Renjun took a step back, Jaemin only countered by walking over to Renjun and grabbing his shoulders.

“You did nothing.”

“Then why are you ignoring me? We haven’t had a movie night in months, and you don’t eat dinner with us anymore. Always using the excuse that you’re tired. I just want my best friend back.” Bestfriend. That stupid word that makes all of Renjun’s guilt hit him full force, especially when Jaemin’s eyes are wet and shaky as if he’s going to cry at minute. He confessed. It took him a whole five minutes to stop fumbling over his words enough to get it out but he did it. When he was finished, he bit his lip and backed away from Jaemin, terrified of what he’d say.

“That’s it? I thought I did something wrong and you were mad.” Jaemin stuck his bottom lip which instantly sent Renjun in a panicked frenzy of apologies. Launching himself at Jaemin he wrapped his arms tightly around him. “It’s okay Renjun, I’m not mad at you. If you want to join anyway, you can always ask.”

Jaemin felt the way that Renjun froze, every part of his body tensing up. Taking a step back Jaemin crouched down, which normally would send Renjun into a blind rage but for now was comforting.

“If you aren’t comfortable you don’t have, you could even just watch if you wanted.” Jaemin chose the wrong words if the way that Renjun’s face when pink was an indicator. “I mean, I’m offering she thinks you’re cute, and I wouldn’t want anyone else to join us, only you. It doesn’t have to be immediately, you can always think about it, our door is always open.”

He didn’t have to think about it, he wanted to join. It’s all he’s been thinking about for two months, and now the opportunity is in front of. Every video of the couple he watched flooded his thoughts but one stuck out, specifically when the girl fucked her boyfriend with the bright red dildo, his broken calls of mommy still ringing in Renjun’s ears.

“Can she peg me?” Shock flooded Renjun as he realized that he blurted that out. Jaemin froze for a second before a shark-like smile spread across his face.

“Awww, never thought Renjunnie would be into that.” More heat rushed to Renjun’s face and he wished he could disappear.

“You can always ask me yourself, you know.” His mouth went completely dry as he turned around. One half of his fantasies was standing directly in front of him, hair still wet from your shower with the water dripping down your neck before dropping into your cleavage. The towel that was wrapped around you was bare minimum coverage, if you loosened your grip it would be gone. “Renjun.”

Hearing his name fall from your lips made him get a little stiffer, but embarrassment was the only emotion he could muster up, tripping over himself to apologize. You took it in stride, smiling sweetly at him before walking over to him, pressing your barely covered chest directly against his. You weren’t much smaller than him, but the almost indefinite difference made Renjun wonder why he was so scared?

“On your knees.” Nevermind. Renjun dropped to his knees, reversing the height difference and making him feel as if he was at your mercy. Which he was. “Did you have something you wanted to ask me?” Your hand grabbed his chin, fingers curling around his jaw as your thumb brushed over his lip. Renjun was putty in your hands.

“Can you please … peg me?”  A giggle too sweet for this moment brushed past your lips.

“Are you sure baby? Jaemin was telling me about you, and you’ve never been with anyone, much less two at the same time. You ready for this?”  Renjun’s heart almost beat out of his chest at your voice getting quieter, eyes appearing softer. Why is he surprised? You were caring around the dorm, more than the dorm aunty ever was, of course it wouldn’t change in the bedroom.

“Wanted this for months, wanted both of you for months. Please.” That brought your smirk back as you leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. Even with the minimum contact Renjun had to fight the urge to chase your lips/

“Whatever baby wants, he gets. Nana tell him the rules, I’ll be back.” Renjun watched as you left the room, and Jaemin kneeled directly in front of him to make eye contact.

“There aren’t many rules. The first is no brats, if you act bratty she’ll punish you. Punishments to me are normally fun, but I don’t know if you’re ready for that. Just listen to what she says, and you’ll be fine. Second is we’re in control at all times. Everything goes by our pace, she just makes sure that everything is safe, if you’re not okay with something or want to stop we go by the color system. Red means stop, yellow means slow down, and green means go. Third rule is if for any reason she believes you’re lying about your color, like saying green when you mean red or yellow she will stop everything and check on you before continuing.” Jaemin stared at Renjun, seeing the emotions , mainly confusion, show on his face.

“I- I didn’t realize there were so many things.” Shaking his head, Jaemin placed his hand on Renjun’s shoulder.

“This is to make sure we’re both safe, and that we’re both having fun.” Nodding his head Renjun realized this was a mutual agreement. You weren’t fully in control at all times how the videos made it appear, Jaemin had just as much control as you.

Renjun couldn’t think about this much longer as soon after you opened the bedroom door, the light purple box now tucked under your arm. Closing the door with a soft click you crossed the room and opened the box to show the contents.

“I’m going to show you what I want to use, if you like it we’ll use it. Okay baby?” Renjun nodded his head, unable to hide his excitement as you opened the box, leaning it forward to show him the toy. It was identical from the video he’d watch, except the color was a lilac that matched the box it was stored in. It has realistic looking veins, with a bulbous mushroom head that would surely stretch him more than his fingers ever had. “Is this okay?”

You had taken his silence for hesitation, him wanting to back out after seeing it, Renjun was only trying not to drool as he felt his cock chub in his shorts. “Yes. It’s perfect.”

“Come on then, get on the bed.” Scrambling onto the bed you bite your lip, attempting to laugh. He was enthusiastic, almost falling over himself in his attempt. Walking over to him you leaned down, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb over his jaw. “Can I kiss you?” Renjun didn’t answer, closing the space between you and pressing his lips against yours.

Jaemin wishes he could say he was enjoying the sight - he truly was though, watching your lips swallow Renjun’s moans just from the simple kiss - but his knees were starting to ache and his cock was leaking enough to have his underwear sticking to the tip.

“Nana, why are you still on the ground?” Looking up, Jaemin pouted.

“You didn’t tell me I was allowed to.” Crawling onto the bed Jaemin laid beside Renjun. It was a tight fight but with Jaemin laying on his side, placing one of his arms over Renjun’s stomach and pulling him close to his side it was comfortable enough.

Sliding down Renjun’s body until you were between his legs you grabbed the top of his shorts, looking up at him for approval before sliding them along with his boxers down his legs and dropping them on the floor. No surprise, Renjun’s cock is just as pretty as the rest of him. Longer than the dildo you planned to use on him with a pretty curve, leaking so much pre cum it pooled at the base of his stomach, but skinnier that it would offer no real stretch if he used it. Useless for sex, but didn’t stop you from wanting it in your mouth.

You didn’t know how experienced Renjun was, so you opted to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, kitten licking at the salty pre cum. Hollowing your cheeks you sucked as hard as you could, enjoying the loud moan that Renjun let out before slapping his hand over his mouth.

“Don’t hide your moans baby. They’re so pretty.” Without warning you easily slide down his cock. Warm, wet heat encasing him completely making his hips buck instinctively. Jaemin grabbed Renjun’s jaw, turning his head and pulling him into a kiss.

Jaemin kissed without any fear, sliding his tongue along the seam of Renjun’s mouth, licking into his mouth with reckless abandon. Renjun could feel spit running down his chin but couldn’t be bothered to care, too focused on Jaemin kissing him like he wanted to eat him whole, and how good your tongue felt as it flicked over the sensitive vein under his cock.

“Close.” Renjun whined as he pulled away from the kiss. Pulling off of his cock with a pop you admired the way it glistened due to your ministrations, his chin covered with spit, starting to drip down to his chest as he stared at you expectantly, a pout evident on his face.

“Can’t have you cumming yet baby. That’s not even the main attraction.”

You worked fast, putting the harness on properly and making sure the dildo was locked into place. It was one of your favorites, only five inches long but thick enough to make up for the lack of length. Perfect for Renjun’s first time. Popping open the lube you coat three fingers with the slick fluid, warming it up before lifting Renjun’s thigh with your clean hand, exposing his hole to you. It was perfect just like the rest of him. Circling the rim you watched his expression relax before sliding one finger past his tense rim.

“Relax Junnie, it’ll feel good soon.” Nodding his head Renjun took a deep breath as Jaemin placed kisses along his neck, nipping occasionally in an attempt to distract him from the foreign feeling of your finger slowly moving in and out of him.

“If you want Nana, you can play with him too.” Jaemin’s smile was precious, almost like he got permission to play  with his favorite toy, which in a way he had. Jaemin was quick to wrap a hand around Renjun’s cock, still wet from your spit and give it a tentative tug. The moan that Renjun let out was almost louder than when you’d wrap your lips around his cock. Jaemin started at a slow pace while you slid in another finger, helping Renjun relax from the stretch faster. Fingering him open was easy with Jaemin distracting him, by the time you got three fingers comfortably inside of him Renjun was completely pliant underneath of you, eyes wet with unshed tears, cheeks and cock a pretty shade of red, dripping precum over Jaemin’s fingers and his soft stomach.

This was a sight to see, and you’re grateful that you were blessed with this opportunity, having two pretty boys in your - technically Renjun’s - bed.

“Jaemin, you’ve been so good tonight, you deserve a reward.” At the thought of a present Jaemin sat up, getting on his knees and crawling over to you. “How about you ride Renjunnie while I peg him? You’ve been so full all day with your plug, this is your reward.”

“Yes, yes please, thank you.” You laughed at Jaemin tripping over his words due to his excitement.

“Get to it then pup.” Slapping his cheek gently you watched as Jaemin pulled the plug out of him. It was his favorite plug, an iridescent glass plug a little bigger than his favorite strap on, so that he could wear it comfortably during the day, and be ready for whatever you had planned later that night. It was bigger than Renjun’s cock, in length and width, so Jaemin should have no problems adjusting. After straddling Renjun he leaned down to kiss him gently before grabbing the base of his cock, sinking down on it, all of the excess lube from you fucking him open that morning helped him slide smoothly.

While they were distracted with swapping kisses as Jaemin started riding him slowly, you slathered the strap on in lube before pressing the head against Renjun’s rim, the head slipping in easily, making you take all of your strength to push in slowly.

You bottomed out and waited a few, making sure that Renjun was okay but from the punched out moans Jaemin was pulling out of him everytime he dropped down. The first three thrusts were slow to make sure he was okay, but when he made no effort to safe word, or tell you otherwise your thrusts sped up. Every time you bottomed out Renjun’s hips would buck, causing him to thrust deeper into Jaemin.

Reaching around Jaemin, you grabbed his neck pulling him further back against your chest, pressing kisses along his throats and biting the junction between his collarbone and neck, before grabbing his jaw and turning his head so you could kiss him for the first time that night. You’d been so focused on Renjun that you hadn’t given enough time to Jaemin, and by the way Jaemin melted into your hold he felt the same. You couldn’t enjoy it for long before Renjun started whining below him.

“What’s wrong baby?” You continued to pepper kisses along Jaemin’s neck as Renjun squirmed beneath him, attempting to meet your thrusts while Jaemin continued to bounce on his cock.

“Kiss.” You giggled at Renjun, who had lifted his arms and attempted to wrap them around Jaemin’s neck.

“Such a needy baby.” Renjun only whined again at your teasing tone, cheeks flushing red due to it. You relented, loosening your grip from Jaemin and letting him lean back down, lips instantly connecting with Renjun’s. Jaemin pulled away, placing his head in the crook of Renjun’s neck while continuing his bouncing.

“You okay Junnie?” Renjun hastily nodded his head, Jaemin’s voice magically cut through the haze in Renjun’s head. Closing his eyes he tried to quiet his moans, and attempted not to cum too fast. His plan was working until the head of your strap rubbed over his prostate making Renjun scream, letting out a choked sob at the feeling of electricity that rushes through his veins, his body heating up at the intense pleasure. The strap on continued to stretch him, and every time the head snagged on his rim he felt unnaturally empty until you filled him up again. Not to mention his cock being surrounded by intense warmth, and his weak attempts to meet both you and Jaemin’s thrusts.

“My poor babies have been so good. You can cum now.” That flipped a switch in Jaemin, spurting cum over Renjun’s stomach and chest, connecting with his lips again and moaning into the kiss. Renjun came soon after, Jaemin clenching around his cock too much for him to bear. He released into Jaemin, whimpering as you continued to thrust into them, helping them ride out both of their orgasms.

Pulling out you made sure to fix both of the boys into a comfortable position. Once they were laying boneless on the bed, curled around each other you went to the bathroom, grabbed two wash rags, and made sure to clean the cum from both of them, being careful while wiping away the lube and cum knowing that they’re both sensitive.

Jaemin spoke after you walked back to the bathroom, placing his head into the crook of Renjun’s neck, and placing a soft kiss there. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” Turning his head toward Jaemin he placed a chaste kiss on his lips, not knowing that you had walked back into the bedroom.

“Both of you were perfect.” Walking over to the bed you leaned down, placing a kiss on Jaemin and Renjun’s temples, before sliding into the bed. The squeeze was tight but with Renjun laying half on top of both you and Jaemin it was nice. “My perfect boys.”

Renjun sighed before letting his body relax. Being cushioned between you and Jaemin was better than he’d ever imagined, and he’d focus on his feelings at another time. Right now, he was perfectly content.

-

“Why did you tell them no one was going to be home?” Haechan groaned, an attempt to stop himself from throwing up after hearing a high pitched moan that was undeniably Renjun.

“We weren’t supposed to be here, if it weren’t for Chenle locking himself out of his apartment we wouldn’t have heard that!” Jeno grumbled while pointing towards the culprit.

“What’s pegging?”

“Jaemin is going to kill us for corrupting his child.” Chenle laughed loudly while clapping his hands, knowing that his once his aunt got back he was free from whatever torture the rest would experience.

“He’s the one who did it!”

(Jaemin and you are not the couple from only fans, they just look similar to you. It’s all a coincidence)

[dxrkdreamer]

Not So Bad

Modern Sukuna x Reader

Working late had been the bane of your existence, only getting worse when a certain man started showing up to your store’s parking lot to light his joints.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ implied sex, mentions of weed.

(A/N: should I make a part 2? It seems pretty popular

Couldn’t come up with a name for the store so I used Anavrin from ‘YOU’)

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“11:00 pm? Again?” you rubbed the back of your head trying to hide your frustration, the store manager nodded his head, sighing you agreed to stay late at work again since the closer frankly did not want to stay. So now here you are grumbling as you finish sweeping the floor and checking it off your log. You worked at a high end grocery store named Anavrin, a store that swore to sell organic produce and products to the best of quality. You took up a job here in your senior year of high school, planning on working for a few months to save up for college. And yet… 4 years later you’re still here grumbling at the extra hours you had taken. After your second year of working you had a promotion to supervisor… woo hoo!!... but it turned out it was more responsibility than expected. But it paid a little more and you could not argue with that.

‘I should be a little more optimistic, I’m graduating uni this year’ you’d tell yourself anytime you wanted to pull your hair out because of your measly job. You finished turning off the lights and locking the door, sighing as you felt the cold fall air hit your tired face, taking a deep breath of fresh air… wait a second “Who the fuck is smoking weed!” you yelled in a girly voice, as if this day was not long enough. Since you were in charge of a proper closing you marched off towards a tall man leaning against the back of the store, laughing and conversing on his phone. It was a little nostalgic, you remembered your highschool days, sneaking around and smoking pot in strange places. But he was not as young as a teenager, in fact his build made him look older than you.

“Hey! I’m going to ask you to leave, this is a smoke free property” You tried saying sternly gesturing to the sign right above them that read “no smoking” in bold letters. But your short stature compared to the man made you look like a kid waving your arms around attempting a snake dance.

“What on earth is this?” a man with pink hair and face tattoos said “I’m so scared, I should be so ashamed for not reading the sign” he cackled as he pressed the joint to his lips and inhaled again. “My apologies”

He did not look sorry at all.

“Look, I’ve had a long day. I’d like to go home so please go to a proper location or I’ll-” but you’re cut off with the joint stuffed to your pretty lips.

“You’ll what cutie?” he smirked as you stared at him dumbfounded, the joint stuck to your lip as you tried to figure out a reaction. But the man was already on his way towards his motorbike. Of course he had a motorbike. “First one’s always free darling, next time I’ll charge ya” he winked as he put his helmet on and sped off.

“Mother fucker” you swore and banged your head against the brick wall. ‘Never am I staying late again’ you groaned. You walked to your car, but not without tucking the joint safely in your pocket for when you got back home.

---

And that was your first of many nightly encounters with the pink haired man. You were not surprised to see him anymore in the parking lot, either smoking, laughing with friends or just sitting on his bike staring at his phone. You learned his name was Sukuna… you had asked for it during the nth time you threatened to call the cops. You also learned he sold weed to the store manager, so he pretty much had a free pass on smoking here.

“Working late again (name)? My, they must pay you a lot for you to stay here.” he smirked, watching you with grinning eyes. Your annoyance shot up at the mention of your little over minimum wage pay. They definitely were not paying you enough for the store, but giving you a delinquent like this guy… you had written your resignation letter a few times after his nightly visits. You ignored him as you walked to your car, heavy footsteps followed “I brought ya a little something” He grinned handing you a baggy with a cookie “It’s on the house, made ‘em myself”. Eyes narrowed as you tilted your head up to glare at him, but realized you were a lot closer than you expected. You could hear him breathe, feel the heat off his body and smell the spicy cologne he was wearing as you breathed a little too loudly trying to inhale the scent. “Not today darling, that package is for another date” he winked.

Oh my God.

What have you done? Sure he was hot and you didn’t mind the view, but his mouth made up for that. He was like an evil version of a talking cat. Opening his mouth to smite you, prideful like one and given the opportunity would sit on your face if you were lying down. Wait what?

“I’m not interested in you like that!” you squeeked.

He tilts his head to the side, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “Then how are you interested in me?”

“I’m not interested unless you’re a customer, or an employee here or something!” Frustrated, you grabbed the zip loc with the cookie in it “And I’ll be confiscating this!”

“Sure thing, I made it just for you. It's a special recipe”

“I’ll let the cops know!” you yelled getting in your car, throwing the cookie on the passengers side as you sped home for the night.

“So if I was an employee…or something...” he wondered gazing at the stars, his thoughts frenzying around as his mind came up with the most brilliant idea. Cackling loudly “you’ve really outdone yourself this time me.” Laughing as he got on his bike, speeding towards his apartment.

---

“A new employee?” You mused, It was pretty hectic at work recently, one of your employee’s had quit and they finally found a replacement “I wonder what they’re like”. You asked yourself as you prepared a training checklist to go over, making sure to not make it too hard on the new guy- you heard it was his first job after all. “Hello! And welcome to the Anavrin family!” you say smiling with closed eyes, as you open them your mouth went agape. ‘What the….’ had the demon cat from the parking lot shrunk and gotten more youthful?

“Hi, I’m Yuji Itadori. You must be my brother Sukuna’s friend. He said to write your name down as someone who referred me to the job”

Chuckling nervously with the clipboard in hand you checked off the box for introductions “I’m (name) the grocery supervisor, and you would be working under me mostly.” Friends with Sukuna? Cutting your wrists open and watching them bleed sounded like the better option.

As the shift progressed Yuji showed you he was the complete opposite of his older brother. Always finishing his tasks, being kind and sweet. Everyone else loved him too, just on the first day. He was stocking milk and eggs the way you had shown him, one of the last tasks of the night. The crowd of customers thinned out as it got late and the store was closer to its closing time. You watched to make sure he was doing them correctly and if he needed any help. ‘This wasn’t so bad’ you thought, closing your eyes and leaning back.

“So how’s my little brother been (name)?”

Your eyes shot open at that voice God no please. “He’s been amazing, but you can’t just put my name as a referral without asking me-” There stood a tall Sukuna in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled back, probably coming after finishing his day job. Majority of his tattoos were covered except the lines on his wrists that were exposed, making you gulp inaudibly. Suddenly feeling underdressed in your uniform’s polo shirt and measly work pants and sweater as you stared up at his glory.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do what?” he smirked. Mentally praising himself as his plan got into action. He couldn’t lie, (name) was interesting. Always yelling at him, cursing him and swearing that she would murder him if it was the purge. His usual charm not working gave him more of a challenge. Not to mention the way she was kind to younger brother made his heart swell a little.

The annoyance returned once you saw his shit eating grin “You can’t write my name down without asking me!”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the intercom went off, notifying everyone that the store was now closed and any remaining customers should bring their purchases to the front to pay for them.

“Yuji you can go home now, I’ll put this away and start heading out myself” you say massaging your temples with your fingers.

“See you soon (name).” Sukuna winked as he walked towards the exit, waving behind at you as he went outside to wait for his brother.

---

Unfortunately soon had never come… at least not for the last 3 weeks. Making you miss the tall man in more ways than one. Maybe he wasn't so bad now that you thought about it. The usual nightly teasing might make you seethe but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t laugh about it later in your car. Somehow his laid backness and mocking smile made your night light up a little. And the weed that you would “confiscate” really did help you unwind after a long shift.

“Maybe it was because he saw me in my uniform” you grumbled. That had to be it. You weren’t a sore look on the eyes. Right? But compared to him… you hissed as you felt your lower half heat up and tremble at the thought of the man. “Well it's only 11:00 pm… and my first class is at 9:30 am… and then I have work at the 4:00.” Debating your options…. ‘This is why I’m probably so grumpy all the time, I think too much’

“And probably need to get laid” you said aloud. Living alone did have its perks, no one could call you crazy for talking to yourself. Your friends always nagged you about your dry spell too, but one night stands weren’t really fun to you anymore. They were too shallow and you always found yourself feeling more frustrated by them than relaxed.

Quickly rummaging through your drawer, you found your lovely device and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you fell on the bed and groaned. Your mind was wild as you thought dirty little things about the man. Your eyes rolled back and you felt little whines erupt from your throat as you imagined him on top of you with his signature smirk, choking you and teasing you, calling you terrible names and whispering dirty things in your ear.

But as quickly as you heated up, the device buzzed and suddenly stopped. Too hazy to think straight you tried turning it on and off again, soon realizing it was the battery that was dead. “For fucks sake” you threw the vibrator and it hit the wall and fell with a loud thud. Good. Pulling your covers up, scowling as you shut your eyes to sleep.

The next day only went further downhill. Your lecture was long and uneventful, you forgot there was a guest speaker instead of the usual prof, most of the class skipped anyways so you sat alone and pretended to be interested. And as you went home from campus, your car broke down on the way leaving you stranded in the heat as you waited for the tow truck. You really just wanted to buy some batteries and get some time to yourself before work. But life had another thing planned once you got home, you only left with half an hour before you had to leave for work. Which barely gave you enough time to shower, change into an excuse of an outfit, grab your uniform and run out the door. You heard a few whistles as you ran to the bus stop, most likely because of the skimpy outfit which was pretty much just a long t-shirt made into a dress with stockings. But this was not the time to be picking fights.

Work was more mundane as ever. Emptying, stocking, organizing and talking was all that seemed to happen. You frowned for the nth time in the day when you saw Yuji was not scheduled to work today and you remembered him mentioning that he was going somewhere with friends for the next two days. The boy could always turn a bad day around. He was a blessing to the department and the store as a whole. The long day finally came to an end and the weekend awaited. Stuffing your uniform in your bag as you walked out you saw a familiar motorbike and a man leaning against it getting ready to light a joint.

You didn’t think, all you could hear were your footsteps smacking against the pavement as you ran to the man. Blood rushed to your head as you slowed down, stopping barely an inch away from him. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt and most important, that smirk.

“I didn’t realize you missed me this much darling, otherwise-” but he was cut short as your hands gripped his head and pulled him down to your lips for a not so innocent kiss. You had to admit, you liked the guy. But as he responded by deepening the kiss and sliding his wet tongue into your mouth to taste you, you realized you wanted more of him. And you found yourself in his apartment, stripped down with his face buried between your legs as you came down from your second orgasm. Him licking you clean and not missing a single bit.

“When” you panted “when is Yuuji-” but he shushed you by gagging his fingers deep in your throat.

“Not until Sunday at least” he smiled with a sinister look, your wetness coating his lips “we have the whole weekend darling” He had waited almost two months for this so he was definitely going to take his time and relish the next few days. How could he not? You were beautiful with a fiery personality, and that showed by the ways you disobeyed him on his bed to get a reaction. It seemed the roles were reversed, but this time there would be consequences. For you at least.

He was relentless but you were no pussy and would not back down either. Both of you with fire and heat taking over your bodies as you brought spark and life into the night, wanting to explore every bit of each other, not stopping until you noticed the sun starting to rise causing exhaustion to take over.

He had let you stay to sleep in, provided you with a clean shirt to wear and even made breakfast for you. Presented you with a “gourmet plate of eggo waffles with the finest Aunt Jemimah maple syrup” he said which earned him a giggle from your pretty lips.

“I can make pretty good waffles from scratch” you told him proudly, puffing out your chest in pride. But these were special to you, the whole moment was special.

“I intend on trying them,” he spoke after a moment. He thought it was out of character for him to ask for a relationship but he wanted to be with you more than just a few times. And wanted more of you in different ways. He wouldn’t get his brother involved if it was a casual fuck relationship that he wanted. Which reminded him he owed the brat 50 bucks.

“Maybe you should come over sometime” you smiled sweetly, blushing a bit.

“I’d like to see you more, take out and get to know you” he said, interrupting your invitation.

“I’d like that too.” you said smiling.

[calif0rnia-lovers]

10 ‘i love you’s’

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The best things come when you don't even try

pairing: joaquin torres x black!reader | words: 1.7k | rating: 💙

requested: no, based on this prompt: Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”

sum: they say our hearts know we’re in love before our minds. 10 times joaquin showed he loved you before he realized he was falling.

Joaquin is a hopeless romantic, and he’s not afraid to admit it.

The moment he laid eyes on you, Joaquin knew he was in trouble. He blames it on you—primarily your eyes.

Joaquin is a sucker for eyes. He believes you can determine a lot about a person through their eyes.

When he’s back home, Joaquin visits the same cafe each morning. Trying to figure out how to work a Keurig is the last thing he wants to do in the morning. He had caught your eyes across the congested coffee shop. He still remembers the soft, kind eyes which met his. The smile which followed set the hook.

He may be a hopeless romantic, but Joaquin recognizes the challenge of maintaining a relationship. It takes a special person to join the military. It also takes a special person to love and support someone in the military—especially an officer on active duty. Distance and stress can wear relationships down. It can breed resentment between partners.

If he stops to think, Joaquin fell in love with you the moment your lips first met his. It came unexpectedly. He was too busy overthinking how to make his move. He was set to TDY for three weeks and wasn't sure if "taking the next step" was best. Luckily for him, you'd taken the reins. Leaning across the console of his truck, you placed a soft kiss against his cheek. The tiny smile on his lips morphing into a grin as you left a second kiss against his lips. No one had ever left him breathless with such a simple action. Before you'd gotten out of the truck his mind was already searching for the next moment he could kiss you again.

But Joaquin has had his heart broken before. He made a promise to himself this time around: don’t rush into things—take it slow.

Joaquin might not have whispered the words I love you, yet but he shows it every day.

1. Holding their hand while walking, even if there isn’t a crowd.

Knowing your partner's love language can help strengthen and save your relationship. You have come to discover Joaquin's love language is a mixture of quality time and physical touch.

Joaquin understands his commitment to the Air Force. Even when doesn't want to leave you behind, he doesn't have a choice. So, he tries to spend as much time with you as possible when he's home.

Joaquin did not notice it at first, but his body strives to catch up on the contact it's missed the moment he's returned.

If you're nearby, Joaquin is touching you.

If he's driving, his right hand is resting on your thigh. You're seated on the sofa watching tv—Joaquin's fingers are drawing patterns into your skin. He's stayed over for the night, he's not sleeping on his side of the bed. He's half-asleep and shuffling past you in the kitchen before work—his hands gently squeeze your hips as he ducks down to kiss your shoulder.

When you're walking, his arm can always be found draped over your shoulder—your body resting against his. His fingers are interlaced with yours, his lips pressing a kiss against your temple.

2. Taking a picture together to print and hang later.

Your fourth date was the county fair. It was a night full of sugar, laughter, and stolen kisses. He might be highly competitive, but Joaquin is too distracted with stealing glances in your direction to win at half the booths.

He lets you drag him into the photobooth--because strangely he's never used one before. You're seated in Joaquin's lap, fingers brushing through his hair, his arm around your waist.

"We're doing two sets," you smile, his eyes focused on yours. "So, break out that cute smile of yours."

Joaquin keeps one of the photo strips in his left cargo pocket. You keep the other photo strip on the refrigerator door in your apartment.

3. Singing and dancing to their favorite song.

Early Sunday morning. Breakfast made and eaten, coffee consumed. You're still wearing your pajamas, Joaquin is in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. You're supposed to be cleaning your apartment because Sundays are for cleaning.

Little progress has been made.

Like so many moments in your relationship, you're a breathless, giggling mess. Your boyfriend is supposed to be sweeping, but he's abandoned the task.

Joaquin is singing. His off-key rendition of the song playing is enough to make you smile. But it's the confidence in both his smile and voice which makes you grin. He may be off-key, but Joaquin knows all the words.

He catches your waist as you pass, forcing you to abandon the idea of cleaning. By the end of the song, you're singing along as he guides you through the apartment.

4. Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room.

You're seated beneath the stars, thankful for the light breeze hitting your heated skin. Music and laughter surround you. You've lost track of the number of songs you've danced to.

Your eyes are on the crowded dance floor, your heels on the floor beneath your chair. The wedding reception started hours ago but is still in full swing.

Joaquin had never been to a wedding until tonight. Joaquin found himself meeting all of your childhood friends and completing his first couple's trip in one swing. From the moment he saw you, standing alongside the bride at the altar, Joaquin can't keep his eyes off you.

Or the idea of marriage out of his mind.

Neither can you.

You both know it's the whimsical spell of a wedding. But that doesn't stop Joaquin's eyes from finding yours as he patiently waits for his refill, the smile on your lips bringing one to his.

5. Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Joaquin leaves his truck with you. It gives you a reason to be the last person he sees before he takes off. The first person he sees when he lands.

Leaving you behind is always the harder of the two.

No matter how long he's away, the departure is always the same. His face tucked against your skin, his arms around you. His smile is always reassuring because he doesn't want you to worry. But his grip tells you he hates the departures as much as you. It's too tight, but you don't object.

"I'll be back before you know it," he smiles, lips pressing against your forehead.

Returning is always the same, no matter how long he's away. Whether it is three days, three weeks, or a month, Joaquin lifts you off your feet. His arms tight around you as you take his face in your hands. The kisses you press against his cheeks and nose breaking a grin across his face.

6. Telling them a dumb joke just to hear them laugh.

What's your favorite thing about him?

It's a standard question that comes once people learn you have a boyfriend. The list of favorites concerning Joaquin Torres is too long to count.

His smile is at the top of the list. Joaquin's smile comes in several variations. Some are reserved specifically for you. Your favorite smile is the one that comes far too often in your relationship.

Joaquin loves to hear you laugh. Joaquin is also a goofball who has the largest arsenal of cheesy jokes.

In all honesty, Joaquin knew you were perfect for him when you first laughed at his jokes.

It always starts the same.

His dark brown eyes are playful as they lift to meet yours. The boyish smile you've come to love slowly stretching into a mischievous grin.

"You look so familiar…" His brow furrows as he returns to your table, two lattes in his hands. "Didn't we take a class together in high school?"

Your eyes roll, the smile already forming on your lips as you reach for your latte. "It is too early for this--"

"I could've sworn we had chemistry."

The smile on his face, as your giggle fills the air, makes it worth it.

7. Participating in a hobby because it interests them

Joaquin has no trouble working out--it's a requirement for the job. He prefers cardio. Running is his favorite.

He tried to get you to join him on his morning runs...that lasted all of about two days. His stamina is too good for you to match.

He still runs, but Joaquin has now taken on yoga.

The first session left him wiped. You couldn't stop smiling as you stole glances in his direction. He thought he had balance, but his body teetering to the side proved him otherwise. His eyes watching your every move, trying his best to match your posture to the tee.

"You did so good!" You giggle, lips pressing against his cheek as he wraps his arms around you.

"I'm tired," he groans dramatically. His body goes limp, his weight causing you to stumble. "You might need to carry me home."

8. Buying them something unrequested because it made you think of them.

Joaquin is well-traveled. He's gone more places than you can count. If it were up to him, he would travel non-stop. He loves learning about other cultures.

Each time he returns home, Joaquin brings you a token.

Whether it's a keychain, a necklace, or a book--he has the biggest grin on his face as he produces the wrapped box. "I got you something."

9. Giving them a kiss before work while they're still in bed.

The first morning he woke up alongside you, Joaquin truly debated being late to work.

Showered and dressed, he'd stopped to press a kiss against your forehead. A soft smile finds his lips as your body stirs, your lips blindly seeking his out.

"I gotta go," he sighs, the warmth of your fingers drifting into his hair pulling back towards the mattress.

"Or, you could just stay here," you propose. "Just for five more minutes."

The soft kiss you leave against his lips deepens, suddenly making your voice the one of reason.

10. Running out in the middle of the night to get a snack they're craving.

You're parked far away from the city lights.

Blankets and pillows in the bed of his pickup truck.

Your fingers tight around the strands of his dark hair. Your pulse uncontrollable as his hips slowly thrust into yours. His lips are soft, teasing kisses pressing against your neck. The ice cream you begged Joaquin to take you to get is gone. There are goosebumps on your skin. They are either from the chill on his lips or the warmth of his wandering hands.

Joaquin stories: @1940sbuckybarnes

all stories: @wabi-sabi1090 @jad3djay @crowngold @cant-decide-at-this-moment @wiccanmetallicrose @themarkblues @gemini0410 @binooo98 @the-jer-bear @abbiesthings @trhett21 @trulysuccubus @leahnicole1219 @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @cocotheclown @oscars-wifeyyy @jennisdirtyimagines @ughdontbeboring @myakai13 @linziland13 @sadeyesgf @brattyfics @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @rosieposie0624 @appropriate-writers-name @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @beiroviski @chaneajoyyy @frostingguru @seize-the-droid @cutiebubbleboo @siempremamita @awkwardtayler @relaxing-najee @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @toni9 @cynderbelle @peoniarose @sincerelykas @making-starsdance @thesandbeneathmytoes @amberritonicole

[yourfandomfriend]

The Magic Theater || Loki Meta

(This is a thing I wanted to write after the premiere but was at work and then too tired. Enjoy!)

Ahh, meta analysis! For some citizens of Fandom, it's just a way of one-upping other fans, making it look like you have all the answers and get all the references. For others, it's about projecting what you wish was true to validate your feelings, starting from the desired conclusion and working backwards.

But to me, quality meta is like frozen yogurt: taking something you love and ruining it a little so you can have more of it! And the first episode of the new Loki series is some quality fro-yo.

**SPOILERS** For Loki: Episode One, and Loki: Agent of Asgard **SPOILERS**

The God of Stories

So Agent of Asgard is a very meta comic title. It's a story about stories, about a perennial villain trying to break out of his pigeon-hole as the God of Lies. To make the greatest of all escapes and begin again as something new. But in order to achieve this, he has to literally fight himself first.

King Loki (Loki’s future self) loops around the timeline, contriving the world of his past, and convinces an uncertain All-Mother that the future stability of the Aesir depends upon Loki being a villain, on him failing to redeem himself and remaining the enemy of Asgard, hated by all.

I was reminded of that because... When Mobius tried to get Loki to confront the wicked things he’s done in the time theater, and especially the reason he did them, he doesn't talk about him like he's a person, he talks about Loki like he’s a character in a story, claiming that his place in it is to challenge other characters to reach their potential as heroes.

“Antagonist,” that’s what he’s describing, someone who forces the protagonist on their journey. 

According to the Sacred Timeline, Loki will play the antagonist, over and over for all eternity. Because some higher, unseen beings decreed it long ago. It isn’t until Loki’s knocked out of his timeline and forced to look at himself, examine himself outside his “God King” narrative, from the perspective of an audience in a theater, that he comes to the realization of why he keeps losing.

His fearful scrambling for control of his story -- selfishly, recklessly, at the expense of the lives of countless others -- has made him a villain, and thus inspired heroes to rise up against him. He's fated to attempt a... shall we say, unexamined redemption arc, but when the consequences of his deal with the devil inevitably catch up with him, it literally gets him killed. 

But not this Loki. Not our new Loki. This one is on a different path.

It's so cool, so weird and meta, that Loki gets plucked out of his story before he dies and is given the chance to change how it ends. To become, if not the hero, then at least the main character.

Hear that sound? The loop is breaking.

Mobius

No matter how much Loki hurts because of who he's been, an audience who selfishly stans him won't want him to change, even to save his own life. Even if he's obviously miserable. No, stans are like the kind of people who give their dog chocolate "because he wants it". And anyone who actually cares enough about the pup to wrench that Snickers bar out of his mouth is going to be hated for it.

As such, Mobius M. Mobius has some fans split. They want to believe he's a villain, an abuser, that he's using Loki. And, sure, it's technically possible he's a secret villain. Any twist possible in an MCU show. So I won't talk too much about whether he's good or bad, but more his actions, his place in the story, his abilities, and his effect in the first episode.

To begin with, Mobius specializes in dangerous variants, but he's not a hunter, doesn't seem like he's considered a fighter by TVA standards. But what he does seem to have that the hunters lack is the ability to understand and show compassion for someone who's nothing like him.

And that seems to be his defining trait: empathy. This is demonstrated in his big character introduction, when he stops the hunters from attacking a child, choosing instead to comfort and to gently question. And he's assured by Hunter U-92 that the kid has nothing to tell them that they don't already know, so it's not really due diligence on Mobius’ part. It's just his modus operandi.

Right after this, he sits in on Loki's trial, and just when our boy's being sentenced to a reset, Mobius puts his own ass on the line to save him. Under the promise that Loki will behave and be helpful, Mobius becomes Loki's handler for the time being, responsible for whatever havoc Loki wreaks. Then he takes him to a "time theater" to work through some issues he knows the God of Mischief has.

Just wanna point out, this is clearly not TVA protocol. They don't snatch variants out of their timelines and try to use them to crack cases, they reset them, they prune them, they don’t trust them. Mobius isn't just being a good time cop, he's saving Loki's life. Unfortunately, he needs Loki's help to do it, and that means rolling up his sleeves and yanking the snickers out of his mouth.

Unlike almost everyone else in the MCU who have decided Loki's just insane, Mobius wants to know from him why he does what he does. Mobius seems to know, but he wants Loki to know. And while Loki's very resistant to having his narrative challenged at first, he clearly wants to spit the chocolate out, especially after seeing what it'll do to him in the future.

And to my delight, (and strange parasocial pride) Loki ends up doing the rest of the work on his own. Even if it's all just a plan to escape or betray the TVA, he's still been confronted with the truth he’s been running from: that he’s just a frightened little godling, puffing up to fool people. He's willing to be honest with himself just now, and in doing so, he begins to tell a different story.

Mischievous Scamp

I'm so damn happy about this. One of the things Loki very nearly lost (after the revelation of his true parentage turned his topsoil) was his love of good old fashioned silly time. There may be more heavy stuff on the horizon, but the blood-soaked nightmare boy seems far away now. Funny, annoying, cute, frustrating hijinks are back on the table. And I love it.

"Nah. No more evil. Mischief, now. That's still got legs." -- Loki, God of Stories

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,185 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of suicide, gore, sexuality, fear and anxiety, disturbing imagery, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Someone dies and Daryl finally learns about Y/N's past.

Your name: submit What is this?

“Where ya goin’?” Daryl’s voice behind you as you headed to the gate, your recurve bow slung over your shoulder.

“Hunting,” you said. You’d been reserved since Hilltop and Daryl was worried.

He shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “Huntin’ what?”

You caught his meaning and sighed. “Food. I promise.”

He nodded and paced closer to you. “Good. Look, if ya want to go out and hunt them, I’ll go with ya. Ya shouldn’t do it alone.”

You nodded. “Been doing it alone a long time now,” you countered. “But I won’t today.”

Daryl nodded. That was about as good a response as he could hope for. “Alright.”

“Where are you off to?” you asked, noting the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Denise found a place she thinks might have meds. She asked Rosita and I to go with.”

Your stomach twisted suddenly and you felt unbalanced. You didn’t know why… it sounded like a routine supply trip. But eventually you shoved the feeling down and nodded. “Alright. Be careful…”

“Ya. We will. You too, alright?” Daryl wished he was brave enough in that moment to—to do or say something more. He could sense that whatever had happened to you, whatever you knew about the Saviors, it was eating you. It had been since Hilltop, and likely even before, probably since the run-in with those men when he was laid up with his ankle. That time when you hadn’t been able to sleep and he had stayed at your house… And he wished he knew how to lift that burden, how to make it stop or at least lighter, but until you were ready to talk about it there wasn’t much he could do.

You came back that evening with a deer. The gates rolled open to admit you and you headed toward home. That’s when you saw the crowd gathered on the porch of Rick’s house, but something was wrong. No one was talking and their expressions were grave.

You felt your stomach lurch. You slung the deer down onto your porch and started walking over. Daryl broke off and met you halfway. You gulped at the tightness in your throat. He looked pale. “What’s going on?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes and he was chewing his bottom lip anxiously, drumming his fingers against his leg. “Denise,” he croaked, the gravel in his voice even thicker than usual.

You looked up, and the fact that everyone was gathered at Rick’s house and not outside the infirmary made what had happened clear. You felt like you’d been punched in the stomach. Your chest heaved with terrified breaths. “No… H—How?” you whispered.

“That guy with the girls I helped in that burnt-out forest, the ones who ended up fuckin’ me over, takin’ my bike and my bow… He’s one of them now.”

Your eyes narrowed. “The Saviors?” you asked in an undertone, your heart starting to race.

He nodded, finally lifting his blue eyes to yours. “Shot her with my crossbow right in front of us. Right—right in front of me.”

Your eyes glistened with emotion you were trying to hold back. “Oh God. No. No, no, no…” You were reeling. Your wide eyes had an unseeing quality.

Daryl gulped, speaking what was consuming him, a rasp in his throat as he fought emotion. “It’s my fault. I should have killed him. I should’ve made Denise stay back. I should’ve—”

“Stop,” you said forcefully, gently resting your hand on his arm. You stepped forward to look up into his face, which was now contorted with some emotion. “It’s not. Don’t do that.”

“It is. She wasn’t ready and I—I should have known they were there. We shoulda been more careful, not out in the open. I—It’s my fault,” he rasped.

You shook you head, holding his blue eyes. “No. It’s not. Even if you had killed him, we don’t know that anything would turn out differently. We don’t get to know. So, you have to stop.”

“I’m goin’ back tomorrow. I’m gonna track ‘em.” His grief and regret were turning into rage quickly.

“Daryl—”

“I’m goin’. He’s a dead man,” he growled.

Your eyes were wide and fearful. “Please, listen to me. Just wait. We can do this, but we have to be smart about it.”

“What’s smart is trackin’ ‘em before their trail disappears,” he growled. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch—"

You shut your eyes, a flash of emotion on your face and Daryl softened a little at the sight. “Just—come over later. We need to talk,” you whispered. You shot him one last look, the worry line you always got by your left eyebrow quite pronounced. You turned and went back to your house to deal with the deer you had shot. Daryl watched you drag it around to the back of your house and he thought that for even the weight of the deer, your steps looked heavy.

It was already late when you heard the front door open from your seat on the couch. “Y/N?” Daryl’s deep voice.

“In here,” you called back. His boots on the wood floor came closer and he appeared in the doorway.

“Ya alright?” he asked. You shook your head.

“No. You?”

He shook his head. “Nah.” Daryl sat down on the other end of the sofa, placing his own crossbow, recovered after the scramble with the Saviors that day, on the coffee table. He could tell you had been crying earlier. Your eyes were a little red. “What is it?”

Your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t draw full breaths. It felt like there was a weight sitting on your chest that was keeping your lungs from filling. You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m—I’m gonna tell you what happened to me. How I know about the Saviors.” You stared down at your hands and he heard you pull in a raspy breath. “I’ve never told anyone this…”

A shadow darkened Daryl’s face. “Alright.”

You sighed and licked your lips nervously. “I had a brother. He was two years younger than me. We were with a small group of people, holed up in some house, scraping in town for supplies. Just a group of survivors who fell together, like yours did. The Saviors showed up. They said they were going to ‘save us.’ Said we had to come with them and if we did they’d keep us safe and fed in exchange for labor. Of course, none of us trusted them. Who can you trust these days? We all knew they just wanted what we had, and maybe even just us, like commodities. We tried to fight. Almost all of us were killed and they got control of those of us who were left.” You passed a somewhat shaky hand over your eyes briefly. “Negan showed up. He executed one of our people in front of us. Bashed his head in with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire and made us watch. Terrorized the rest of us. Spouted off a bunch of bullshit about how he hadn’t wanted to do it, but we had forced his hand. My brother and I survived, along with a couple of the others. They took us back to their headquarters.” You finally glanced over at Daryl and your striking eyes, looking wide and anxious, met his blue ones. “They call it The Sanctuary.”

Daryl thought of Denise, dying right in front of him. “I’m sorry,” Daryl said.

You shook your head. “I’m not even close to done.”

Daryl’s stomach hardened into a tight pit and he waited for you to go on.

“I knew right away that something was different… with me, I mean. They separated me from the group, from my brother. Shoved me in a tiny, completely dark, barren cell.” Daryl watched your brow furrow. “Just me. Alone. Sometimes I was chained up, handcuffed, sometimes I wasn’t. Every second of every day I just sat in the dark and wondered what horrible thing was going to happen to me the next minute. I didn’t understand why I’d been singled out at first, except maybe that I’d fought the longest. I didn’t know if my brother was alive or dead…” Your eyes grew faraway, detached, and Daryl felt like someone had twisted a knife in his stomach. You went on. “The isolation and hunger was bad enough but they had more in their playbook. They purposely kept me awake for days at a time—lights, loud music. Some real Guantanamo Bay shit. I lost track of time. I thought I was going crazy after a while. It was obvious they were trying to break me. And then one day, he came.”

“Negan?” Daryl asked. You nodded.

“He told me I��d paid enough for trying to fight. That he understood why I had and that I had a few choices in front of me. I could eventually die in that cell, I could work, or…” you trailed off and shut your eyes for a moment. “He told me he thought I was…different. That I was tough, brave because of how I was during the fight and after. He said he’d—he’d taken a special liking to me and said I could marry him, be one of his wives, and live the way we did before the world fell apart. All I had to do was take care of him and his wants and needs and he’d take care of me.”

Daryl was staring at you with a scowl on his face, his stomach twisting at your words. His eyes were narrowed and he was so still he looked frozen. Anger was boiling in his chest. You gulped, hoping to clear your throat but weren’t successful.

“I asked him if my brother was alive and he said yes. I told him I’d work. I just wanted to be with my brother. So, I became one of the workers in The Sanctuary. You work there to earn points, which you use to ‘pay’ for food and whatever else you need, but it’s never enough. It’s slave labor where every once and a while they throw you a peanut. Conditions are terrible. And after a while, my brother and I were both almost wishing we were dead. But at least we were still together.” You settled back more deeply into the couch and sighed. “Negan rules with an iron fist. If someone tries to escape, someone steals, screws up at all…” Your face contorted as you thought about what you’d watched him do. “I’ve watched him do the most—inhuman, horrendous things... unfathomable. I watched him burn people with a hot iron, brand people, beat people to death for not following his orders perfectly… And his men? They’ll do the same things in his name, some of them worse. The whole place is guarded, patrolled, locked down like a fortress. But more than anything it’s the fear that keeps people there… And I was trapped in it because all I wanted to do was keep my brother alive and for us to stay together.”

You stopped for a moment and Daryl watched as you tried to steel yourself to go on.

“It was like that for a while. We were practically starving, always just waiting for the next thing, the next trauma. And then I got sick… Very sick.” Your eyes flitted up to meet his. “A blood infection. I was dying. And they’ve got a doctor, medicine, but if you use them you owe more than you could ever pay—and that means they own you even more than they already did. It’s just leverage to them. My brother—” your voice broke. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment and Daryl could hear you pull in a few slow but ragged breaths. “He tried to steal some antibiotics. To save me. And he got caught.”

You were silent for a long moment, trying to stop yourself from crying. Daryl just waited, feeling sick to his stomach, feeling enraged, wanting to tell you it was going to be okay, but knowing he couldn’t... Nothing he could say was going to fix whatever you were about to tell him. He knew that.

“I ended up in the infirmary anyway. I don’t even know how. I had been so delirious with fever and I can’t remember a lot from around then… But when I was better, eventually, Negan came to see me again. He told me they were going to make an example of my brother. He broke the rules and Negan couldn’t have people thinking you could get away with that. I knew what that meant. Negan would kill him horrifically. In front of me and everyone else.” Despite what you were saying, your voice was somewhat detached. It was like you were on autopilot as you explained, like you had told the story in your head a million times and were just replaying through it. Daryl thought you probably were.

“But he gave me another—another choice,” you said. Your tone conveyed that it was presented as a choice, but there was no refusing. “His offer still stood. If I ‘married’ him and became one of his wives, he’d spare my brother’s life and erase all of our debts.” Just saying the words made you feel sick and Daryl watched as you reached a hand out to clutch onto the arm of the couch as if you were spinning and needed grounding. “What could I do?” you asked, turning to look at Daryl again, your eyes frantic, devastated, shining with tears that you were barely containing. “I just thought—‘I need to keep him alive.’ That’s—that’s all I could think and I would deal with the rest of it later.” You opened your mouth to continue speaking but the words wouldn’t come out and your gaze at Daryl was desperate until you couldn’t look at him any longer.

“Hey,” he said. “Ya had to. S’alright. Ya didn’t have a choice.” He moved closer to you and was brave enough to gently lift your chin so you would look at him again, and the glistening in your eyes hit him like a punch. “Ya had to,” he said gently.

You nodded, shrugging vaguely. “I agreed. And Negan didn’t kill my brother but he cut off his hand in front of me and everyone else.” Your jaw clenched and you shut your eyes against the flashbacks.

Daryl stared at you in horror as you took a breath, trying to hold yourself together enough to continue. His face was growing darker and darker as you told the story.

“But we went on. He worked for points and I—” You couldn’t even speak of it. “For a while, that’s how it was.” You were suddenly silent and Daryl felt yet another twist in his stomach, apprehension about what was coming. You continued, your voice disconnected again. “And then one day Negan came in and told me that my brother—” you gritted your teeth against another wave of emotion. “My brother killed himself.”

You hurried on, afraid you wouldn’t be able to get anything else out if you didn’t rush through it.

“And the thing is—” your voice broke, “even that he didn’t do for himself. He didn’t do it because he was miserable there or because he couldn’t go on.” Your bottom lip quivered. “He did it because he knew that while he was there, alive, I wouldn’t leave. If he was alive, I wouldn’t try to escape. He killed himself to save me, to give me the option to get out.”

Daryl felt a sinking emptiness in the middle of his chest. For a moment he just sat still and watched as you struggled not to go entirely to pieces, but he couldn’t allow you to reel the way you were any longer. “C’mere,” he said gently. He enfolded you in his arms and you sank in against him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He could feel your shuddering breaths and he held you tighter to him, his heart racing, feeling sick waves of horror and anger. He rested his chin on the top of your head. “Ya got out. You’re out. S’alright.” He smoothed a hand over your hair and down your back until you stilled somewhat. You pulled back only slightly to look up at him, your faces mere inches apart.

“Do you understand?” you whispered. “You can’t just go barreling after them, Daryl. You can’t. I—I can’t lose you.”

Daryl gulped, his eyes flickering between yours… But inside he was thinking that everything you just told him was exactly why he had to go...

“I hear ya,” he said finally. He pressed you tightly against him again, shutting his eyes and relishing the feeling of you beneath his hands, even while his mind raced. He held you for a long time, until you seemed to have calmed again. Finally, he pulled back and looked into your face. “It’s—it’s gonna be alright.”

You soaked in the reassurance of him, calmed by his deep voice, his hands gentle on your arms.

“It’s—It’s late… Ya gonna be alright if I go? M’sorry. I don’t wanna leave ya but I wanna check on everybody…” he murmured.

You nodded. “You should. It’s okay. They—they probably need you. I’ll be fine,” you said, knowing it was probably a lie. You were sure you’d have nightmares that night if you managed to sleep at all. You slipped from him the rest of the way and as you separated, he felt like you took some part of him with you.

“G’night,” he murmured, climbing to his feet and collecting his crossbow from your coffee table. As he picked it up, he couldn’t help but think about how the bolt that had killed Denise had left his bow. He should have killed that asshole when he had the chance. “Y/N. Ya should tell Rick,” he said, nodding. “Ya should. If ya can. It’d help him understand, ya know?”

You considered him for a moment. “Okay. I will,” you replied. You watched him across the kitchen as he made his way to the front door, the wings on the back of his vest catching the light differently than the leather, almost looking like they were glowing. With his hand on the handle of the front door, he glanced back at you and gave you a thoughtful look. You managed a somewhat sad smile at him, anxiety still pulling one of your brows inward, and then he disappeared outside.

[regrettablewritings]

Soulmate AU: The First Drawing You See From Your Soulmate is Tattooed on Your Skin

A detective having a tell would probably be considered inappropriate to most people. Detectives were supposed to read tells, not have them. But then again, Benoit had never been much for keeping up appearances. Besides, what was the harm in rubbing his thumb along his right wrist? It helped him focus; it helped him think.

Or at least, that was what he’d told himself. He wasn’t entirely lying, either, rather the larger whole of it all was more so that when he rubbed that spot on his skin, he felt calm. Composed. He liked to think that that was the feeling his soulmate had intended when they painted that image, whenever they made or would make it. Whatever it was. After all, it had plenty of blue in it.

He was pretty sure it was meant to be a pond or some kind of body of water; that might explain the blues and greens and maybe the bits of white that he could make out. And if he squinted his eyes a little, he could swear there were little flecks of gold. Goldfish, maybe? Honestly, he had no clue. Benoit wasn’t much for complaining or expressing a lack of gratefulness, but he couldn’t help but sometimes feel envious of those whose tattoos covered a larger part of their body. Not a massive amount, but at least just enough to be able to tell precisely what the heck their soulmate’s image was trying to portray. Clearly, the image was larger than what that patch of his skin could afford, and honest to God, he’d spent a good part of his life trying to make out what it was!

(The embarrassment of it all, he would sometimes muse deprecatingly: That the acclaimed “Last of the Gentlemen Sleuths” could solve the most absurd cases in the country, yet had spent most of his natural-born life completely stumped by what might as well have counted as a body part!)

And yet, Benoit could never stay frustrated about it; not when his thumb gently grazed against the image, imagining the smoothness of his skin ebbing into the aquatic swirls of the proposed water. But just for extra precaution, he saw no harm in distracting himself.

That afternoon’s distraction? A quick skim of the local paper, accompanied by a mug of hot tea. He tried not to think of how such a method revealed his age, instead snapping the paper open to a page discussing the local goings-on. It was the usual sort of content: The community theater’s spring production was seeking house crew members, a mom and pop-style restaurant was having an anniversary special . . . It was the same sort of thing Benoit had grown used to expecting.

But what his pale blue eyes landed on next didn’t make the rest pale by comparison -- it downright washed all else from existence: An art show.

Benoit considered himself a well-rounded person, but it was more so in an almost tongue in cheek sort of manner: As a detective, it was his job to be appropriately versed in an assortment of fields. However, a jack of all trades was never truly a master of none. Benoit’s experiences with art theft and forgeries had lent him a hand in only about as much observation as was necessary for the respective occurrences.

But . . . he knew those swirls. He knew that blue, those greens, that white -- he recognized how the gold was patterned! Sure, the cheap ink job of a colored newspaper picture might have dulled the quality ever so slightly but there was no mistake to be made: That painting was his. No . . . It was theirs!

You tried to make calming breaths without making your anxiety obvious. A nervous but otherwise acceptable smile twitched into place, fooling the guests as they wandered about the gallery. Or, at least, you certainly hoped it was fooling them; but it was probably all to be outdone by the fact that you’d been nursing the same champagne flute for the last half-hour.

Is this what “making it” feels like? you wondered. Because if it was . . . you weren’t too fond of it. You felt bad for not relishing this opportunity; the art world was highly competitive, and you were more than blessed to have had the chance to not only display your work in a showroom, but to have said room be dedicated entirely to your pieces. But in that blessing was also a curse: The curse of criticism, of weary eyes, of people both waiting to pounce on you with ribbings of how you lack the magnanimity of the classics or the free thinking of the contemporaries --

Shitshitshitsmile! You did as you were told -- both by your brain, and by your manager earlier when they walked you through how you were to compose yourself through this entire ordeal. Just smile, enunciate when spoken to, and let the potential schmoozing flow and oh god, that Karen-looking lady who definitely owns a house in Martha’s Vineyard for when she wants to get away from her husband for a day totally hated that piece you’d spent months working on, didn’t she?!

The thought made your stomach twist, your already awkward smile along with it. You inhaled sharply. You had to find something to distract yourself with. 

You turned and faced the painting nearest to you. Some might call it vanity, but you were actually quite pleased with this particular piece. That, and its blueness gave you a sense of . . . serenity. You imagined the ripples washing over you and into you, the scent and sound of the painted environment gently caressing your nose and drowning out both the stench of perfume and pretentious chattering . . . And also, apparently, the sound of approaching footsteps.

You hadn’t realized anyone had joined your side until the rumble of a southern baritone carded through the water.

“It’s gorgeous. Isn’t it?”

You hadn’t meant to jump and appear so clumsy.

“Oh, sh -- ” You cut yourself short as you eyed the droplets of spilled, room temperature champagne. If your manager found out that you had cussed around a potential buyer, they would’ve mounted your head on the wall. Thankfully, however, the stranger didn’t appear at all fazed. If anything, the chuckle he responded with sounded genuinely amused.

“Oh, my dear girl, I’m terribly sorry!” he insisted, holding up his left hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you; I can imagine most anyone would be mighty transfixed over a piece like this.”

You gulped as you looked up at your unintentional scarer. His eyes were the same blue as the one that brought you calm just moments earlier, yet they had the almost opposite effect to you now. As you looked into them, you didn’t feel calm; not necessarily: Instead, you felt your heart beginning to ripple the pattern of the painting, your cheeks burning as bright as the gold swirling amongst the little waves. And yet you found yourself transfixed by them, only offered freedom when the older gentleman offered you a hint of a smile. A warm one.

Crap! Uh -- Answer his question! Think of something to say! your mind scrambled.

“Uh . . .” you stammered. The only way to save what atoms of confidence you still had left was to turn your eyes back to the painting. “I -- I should hope so.” Smooth. You tried to remember your calming breaths. You heard the man hum, shifting his position ever so slightly in your peripheral.

“What can you tell me about it?” he asked, revealing just how close to you he truly was. You could feel the warmth of his person and the richness of his voice vibrating into you. Or perhaps it was butterflies? Maybe both? Well, whatever it was, it almost made you stumble over your words. You’d spent the entire evening up to that point rehearsing stories of your inspirations, recounting whatever education you had to people who probably didn’t give a crap.

But this instance was different: Maybe it was foolishness sourced from a sudden and sophomoric attraction, but you almost wanted to believe that perhaps this man genuinely cared. That he was genuinely interested in what you as the actual artist had to say and not you as some painting mannequin made to recite lines over and over.

The excitement of such a possibility broke through your nerves . . . and, unfortunately, right out of your mouth.

“I just really wanted to paint a mermaid in a mall coin fountain,” you admitted. You wanted to kick yourself. Up until that point, you’d been rather proud of your nifty little idea. But when you said it out loud, you sounded ridiculous! You could barely hide the reactionary wince, much less how your breathing hitched and hiccuped with nervousness. Just as soon as it had come, the hope that perhaps this man was different disappeared, leaving you awaiting his ridicule.

A ridicule that never came. Instead, there was quiet between the both of you. Perhaps he was at a loss for words?

“Mm,” he hummed, making you tense with expectation. You glanced at him just enough to see him nod, his blue eyes still focused on the canvas before him. “Go on . . .”

You blinked. Was he . . . for real?

“I . . . What more is there to say?” you wondered. The entire night, nobody had really asked for more on your part. They usually just took whatever purple prose you gave them and left it at that. Your initial assumption was right after all: This gentleman was cut from a different cloth from the lot.

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “What inspired this?”

���Oh, uh . . . Well . . .” Was it worth telling him? Aw, hell: you’d already made a bit of a fool of yourself being honest, so what harm was there in doing it some more? “I did it because I never saw anything about a mermaid that lived in a mall fountain, collecting the coins people toss in there.”

You didn’t even have a chance to worry about his criticism before the man’s features broke into a smile. It wasn’t like the others’ more courteous grins; this one reached his eyes, making their icy coolness warm and welcoming. You hated the cheesiness of it all, but for a very split second you wished that you could be a mermaid in them.

He chuckled once again. “Can’t say that I’ve ever seen anything concerning a coin-hoarding mermaid myself, let alone a professional art piece.” It was small, but the assurance made you offer your own smile.

“Well . . . But then maybe I have . . .” At that, your heart dropped. There it was: The anticipated criticism. He thought you were a hack after all: Uninspired, boorish, unskilled, whatever word there was to describe a person who didn’t know how to use a fan brush properly if any.

The wound stung as one so sudden should: Heavily and down to your core. You wanted the floor to open up and eat you whole. Or better yet: You wanted to climb into your apparently uninspired painting and drown in the mall fountain. But none of those could be an option, and neither was the possibility of hiding in the bathroom or an empty corridor. Instead, you had to put on a brave face and do your best to get through the moment.

“Oh?” you uttered. Your throat pained from the threat of anxiety. “Where do you suppose? I’ll admit, I’m not much into contemporary art so I don’t know the what’s what of what if you catch my drift.” You tried to weakly smile at your sad attempt for a joke. God, this so wasn’t what “making it” felt like.

But the man didn’t offer a courteous hint of laughter. Nor did he offer you a verbal response. Instead, he turned to face you. You did the same, even though you really didn’t want to. But it was the polite and expected thing to do when being confronted. Damn politeness and courteousness.

You weren’t sure how to respond when the man began to make work of his right sleeve, unbuttoning the cuff and beginning to roll the rest of it up. Your paranoia was unfortunately the first to respond due to your preexisting discomfort of the entire ordeal of an evening. You were just about prepared to scream, yelp, make any kind of distressed call -- only for it to trickle out into a gasp. An amazed exhale. The image the man presented to you on his wrist was small. Clearly, for it to be recognized for what it was, it needed a larger stretch of skin to belong to. But you knew what it was: You knew those swirls, the placements of those flecks of gold, those blues and greens surrounded by white.

For the umpteenth time that evening, your breathing changed. Only, you were pretty positive that none of your deep breathing would be necessary this time around; you would be more than happy to look at your painting on your soulmate’s skin for the rest of the night.

Epilogue:

“Mr. Blanc, please,” you insisted. “You’ve grown up with that thing on your arm, surely you’re bored with it by now. You can have your pick of the gallery. Hell, I’ll even make you something on request!”

Pickings hadn’t become slim, but the night had ended surprisingly successful. Well, surprising to you: You hadn’t expected anyone to buy anything of yours that evening, let alone six. You supposed that perhaps they just wanted to participate in the elitism brought on by owning newcomer art. Benoit, however, insisted that the buyers simply had functioning eyes. What a sweet-talker your soulmate was.

You watched as he shook his head stubbornly, eyes still fixated on the painting that adorned his wrist. He’d seen all the other remaining paintings, and even the ones that wound up selling by evening’s end. They were all gorgeous, he insisted, but . . .

“Benoit, if you will, Ms. (Y/N),” he corrected, apparently missing the irony. He gestured insistently at the composition. “And no. I . . . I truly would be quite satisfied with this one.” He heard you raspberry in defeat as you made your way back to his side, folding your arms in exasperation. 

“Seriously, though,” you sighed. “Is a painting of a mermaid dwelling in, like, a fountain you can find nearby an Auntie Anne’s really . . .” You waved a hand as if searching for the right word. “. . . Befitting? Of a detective’s abode? I was thinking more of a bucolic piece or like a portrait of some kind or . . .” You trailed off, only to be met with an amused huff.

“Some detective I am,” Benoit muttered. He broke his gaze back to you and placed his hands on his hips. “Took me well over a damn decade or two to learn what it even was. And only because you told me!”

[lucifers-horror-harem]

Halloween with Alan Sharpe:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!! I thought I would spread some Halloween cheer by sharing some headcanons about what spending Halloween with my Slasher OC Alan Sharpe would be like ;) You get a tad more backstory too which is always fun! I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible save for mentions of costume dresses, and it’s mostly sfw besides for a few naughty and sexual mentions because this IS Alan we’re talking about here and he is quite the horndog sdfgfdrrghgf Hope y’all enjoy!!!

If there's one holiday that Alan never missed, it's Halloween. He enjoyed it ever since he was a boy. It didn't matter that his parents said he was too old, he would just climb out of the window and meet up with his buddies. Sometimes they actually went out trick or treating. But usually there would be more tricks than treats when it came to him. 

Yes, he was absolutely one of those menace kids causing havoc past midnight. The cops caught him only once though, so Alan takes that as a win. He loved the disappointed and disgusted look his parents gave when they opened the door that night. That their little boy could do something so beneath him. 

Once he was out of his parents' influence and living with other outcasts and criminals or various types, he enjoyed his fair share of Halloween parties. He had always loved dressing up in outlandish get ups, and noticed that other people loved them too. Halloween hookups weren't uncommon for Alan, and he loved seeing the variety of sexy costumes. It definitely sparked his current love of roleplay. 

So once Halloween comes around for the first time while you're with him, Alan gets so excited. He's already brainstorming couples costumes before you even have the chance to. Every once in a while he will come to you with ideas and a large selection of costumes. 

He doesn't buy cheap costumes either. Alan goes all out ordering from actual costume places, getting only the best and highest quality. He wouldn't go anywhere dressed in a half assed cheapo costume that could barely count as pajamas with how thin they are. Don't question him when he busts out the measuring tape for you. I mean… he already knows your measurements, this is just to keep you at ease. Plus, it's better to keep updated records. 

Alan favors any costume that lets him dress in very fancy clothes, as if he doesn't already do that on the regular. Vampire is always an easy one he gravitates towards, he has had a few very nice capes and more regal suits fashioned for him over the years, and he always looks so good in them. That plus a nice high quality set of fangs and he is good to go. Careful, he will absolutely bite you given the chance. 

He personally has no issue with whatever you decide to wear, save for maybe any sort of cop. With his constant disputes with the law he really doesn't want to be reminded of them more than he has to. Not to mention that there are WAY more classy and sexy outfits to put you in. Even a simple Elvira or Morticia dress makes him happy, with all your curves and breasts/bare chest accentuated. Almost anything you can come up with he will be on board for, coming up with a matching costume for himself. You lead the way, he's happy to follow! 

Will 100% be the corny guy acting in character the entire time, so be careful. Puns and dad jokes are abundant with him. Every single party he drags you to you'll have to deal with this and I apologize. 

Alan loves decorating his space with you for the holidays, and will grab everything you need to make it special. Even if you don't go anywhere with him you can deck out the house into a spooky home! String lights everywhere, spiderweb, and any decor you want whether it be cute and kitschy or dark and Gothic! 

Will happily carve pumpkins with you, often gravitating towards these gigantic unwieldy pumpkins that anyone else might balk at. He'll even take care of the guts if you want, and if you want to bake the pumpkin seeds he will help with those too. He usually just makes faces of all varieties, sometimes goofy and sometimes scary. He doesn't have much patience for patterns or anything complicated like that. Just give him a knife and he will hack away! 

Where he lives won't have any trick or treaters, both in his city penthouse and villa in the middle of nowhere. If you want to see everyone in costume then you'll need to pester him a bit and depending on if he trusts you to be in public and not run from him, he will take you up in your offer. Most of the time it's just walking through neighborhoods and looking at the cool stuff people do with their houses and the cute costumes the kids have on. Alan might get those butterflies in his stomach if he thinks about being a dad and taking his own kids around someday too much so best not to let him dwell on it too long. 

But if you do have children, he is the type of dad to dress up with his kids and take them to as many houses as they can hit, raking in the candy haul and teetering on the brink of cavities for months. If it lasts that long. Alan has a horrible sweet tooth.

Honestly Alan is just happy to be with you and watch scary movies on the couch during Halloween. Even though he's too old to get into half of the shenanigans he used to do, he can still spend a quiet evening with you that leads to some very sexy roleplay if he's lucky. 

[alexisligaya]

World of K-dramas

Hi, I'm Alexis, and welcome to my blog where I talk about my favorite K-dramas! All my friends know that I'm a K-drama addict. If someone asks for a recommendation, I immediately pull out my list of over 40 K-dramas that I've watched. I started to watch them in 2017, and although I haven't seen as many recent ones, I have watched most of the classics. Throughout my blog, I will focus on a variety of K-dramas and discuss their plots and my reviews, so I hope you keep reading! :)

*Spoilers ahead*

Boys Over Flowers

The first K-drama I ever watched. I somehow came across the drama called "Boys Over Flowers" and something about the cheesy plot line had me hooked. I ended up watching it about 3 times and constantly listened to the soundtrack. Looking back, I think the story is pretty cringey, but at the time, I thought it was the best thing ever. 'Boys Over Flowers' became highly recognized in Korea and others countries, so adaptions have been made in China, Japan, and Thailand.

Plotline

Jan Di is the daughter of poor dry-cleaning business owners who suddenly receives a swimming scholarship to a prestigious high school after saving a student's life. The school has a group known as F4, the four richest boys at the school, who take pride in bullying other students that get in their way. Jan Di tries to avoid trouble and stay away from them, but is forced to intervene when her friend spills ice cream on the 'leader,' Joon Pyo. He is taken by surprise and angry, so he tells the other students to bully her, however, she stands up for herself. Joon Pyo eventually starts to fall for Jan Di and tries to win her over but she declines his efforts. During this time, Jan Di begins to develop feelings for another member of F4, who also likes her. Jan Di has chemistry with both leads, however, she grows closer to Joon Pyo after getting a job as a maid in his house. Joon Pyo's mother discovers his feelings towards Jan Di but disapproves of the relationship because of her family status and background. She does everything in her power to prevent the relationship, even going as far as arranging a marriage. The girl is actually very kind and likes Joon Pyo, but gives up when she realizes his genuine feelings towards Jan Di. On the day of their graduation, Joon Pyo proposes to Jan Di in the place where they had their first date, but she tells him she will consider if he comes back from his study abroad trip as a better man. She also does not want to back away from her dream of becoming a doctor. The drama ends with Joon Pyo coming back after four years and proposing on the beach near the hospital where she was working. However, right before she is about to answer, the other members of F4 run up to them and the last scene is of them laughing together on the beach.

My Thoughts

Looking back, 'Boys Over Flowers is definitely one of the cheesiest K-dramas I've watched. Once I started watching more K-dramas, I realized the better quality ones were made after 2015, however, I'll give it some slack since it was made in 2009. Though Joon Pyo had a lot of character development throughout the show, I think he could have had a better personality to begin with. For this reason, many people argue that Jan Di should have ended up with the second lead since he was always kind. I also slightly agree with this but ended up rooting for the main lead since I thought he was better-looking. I do not think I could watch 'Boys Over Flowers' all the way through again for many reasons, but it was such a turning point for me at the time so it will always have a special place in my heart.

Thank you for reading, I hope you come back next time!

~Alexis