#It's been a long time since I have written this so I forgot many details so I may be wrong somewhere

[rosehippiefield]

I know 4 death games and all of them are unique in terms of necessity to harm others and general atmosphere:

(may contain minor spoilers concerning organisation of each death game)

Danganronpa is a killing game, however, there is a choice for potential blackened whether to kill or not to kill. Responsibility, while shared with kidnappers, lies heavily on murderers' shoulders (with some exceptions), because usually it's their conscious decision to off somebody and they often even do the dirty work. What Monokuma does is he phycologically pressures students and executes the blackened. The atmoshpere is scary and distrust is thriving despite more-or-less comfortable conditions. But technically, everybody could live together without bloodshed.

In Yttd somebody will die no matter what, at least two people each main game. I feel like while participants did influence or outright choose who's turn to die came, it was simply because they had no other option. If it's not them, it's somebody else. And choosing between "somebody else 1" and "somebody else 2" is compulsory. Plus, there are plenty of dangers beside people: first trials, death attractions, traps and so on. I'd say their situation was horrible both phycologically and physically (they didn't even get to shower until Ranger permitted, as far as I remember).

In Zero escape 999 technically it would be beneficial to work together, solving puzzles and escaping through number 9 door, so I would say that these guys have the least number of reasons to be distrustful toward one another inicially as they don't exactly have to kill... On the other hand, at first choice of who gets to move forward it seems the ones left behind are doomed. They have time pressing on them, Zero explained that there were bombs inside them that can blow up under certain conditions, plus some rooms are quite dangerous. Thus, potential poor choices are consequences of both kidnappers' actions and selfish decisions of captives. And to be honest, situation is too complicated to be described because the reasons for poor choices can be too individual in comparison to other games here.

In Exit/corners kidnapper simply states that the goal is to leave the hotel, but characters are named Contestants for some reason, which gives rise to questions. What are they competing for? Do they have to be the last one standing? As they have to get out of hotel they have some basic comfort, but there wasn't enough time to truly relax. Solving puzzles seems not lethal at first but some rooms may be more perilous than others. They also have time limit of 24 hours and something else is going on with at least one of them...

[obsessedvibee]

Can't Sleep

MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Pairing: Austin Butler x reader

Warnings: lots of dirty talk, m. masturbation, f. masturbation, humping a pillow

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Austin is in Paris promoting Dune part 2 and he can't sleep in his hotel. He calls his girl to chat and things get dirty real fast. Phone sex ensues.

Authors Note: It's been way too long since I've written for Austin. Something about imagining him rubbin' one out just does something to me. So I thought I'd make everyone else suffer too. You're welcome. Comments & reblogs appreciated!

Enjoy!

He tossed the remote to the other side of the bed defeatedly. Flipping through the few channel options on the hotel tv could only entertain him for so long. Looking over at the clock the red number taunted him showing 4am. Being up for the last almost 36 hours would tire out most people but his body wouldn’t let go of consciousness. The jet lag certainly wasn’t helping either. His thoughts flickered to her. Doing the math in his head; she’d only be at 10pm in New York with Paris being six hours ahead. She should be home from work now. Finished with dinner.

He reached for his phone, quickly finding her in his contacts, before pressing it to his ear. The line crackled before it began to ring. His fingers mindlessly played with the string from the waistband of his sweats as he waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” 

Her voice sounded small and distant through the line and he hated it.

“Y/N, hi,” he rasped.

“Hi.”

A bit of rustling sounded on the other end as she sat up from the couch she was more than likely dosing off on.

“You sound tired,” he said, suddenly feeling guilty, “I should let you sleep.”

“No, no it’s fine,” she assured him, “I think I’m more bored than tired.”

He knew she was lying. She’d fallen asleep on that couch so many times when he’s home with her. Never being able to finish a whole movie without hearing her soft snores as she slept. 

He was a little jealous if he was being honest with himself. He was never one of those people that could just pass out as soon as they close their eyes. Even more so if it wasn’t his own bed. 

“Have you slept at all since you left?”

He sighed, “no.”

“Aus,” she said sympathetically. 

He ran a hand over his face. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He hummed, “tell me about your day.”

And she did. From her drive to work to how much the phone rang, how her boss had gotten on her nerves, what she got for lunch, how her feet hurt from her new heels she bought the other day, her drive home, how she had to go back out to get chicken for dinner from the grocery store that she forgot to get yesterday. Every detail she rambled on about, but he didn’t mind. It made him feel less alone. Less like he was on the other side of the world.

“Hey, Austin?”

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna set you down for a sec, I gotta pee.”

He chuckled, “m'kay.”

He heard the clank of her setting the phone down, and he pulled his phone away from him for a minute checking the time. 4:30. At least the time was moving a little faster now. 

Putting the phone on speaker, he checked a few emails while he waited when his phone chimed, with her name coming across the banner with a new text.

Leave it to her to text the person she’s currently chatting with.

Clicking on the banner, his phone swapped apps to the text. 

But it wasn’t a text.

His heart rate rose as his eyes took in the photo.

She was posed in their bathroom mirror with a black lingerie set he’d never seen her in before. Her phone was in one hand snapping the photo while the other had her thumb through the waistband of her panties teasingly tugging them lower down her hip, hardly leaving anything to the imagination. Her breasts were barely contained in the bra, the cups hardly coming up over her nipples, her flesh pushed together creating ample cleavage. 

He swallowed thickly as he felt the warmth of blood rush to his groin. 

“You still there, Aus?” She asked feigning innocence. 

He cleared his throat, “yea- yea.” He took a deep breath. “What are you-?”

He didn’t have a ton of words flying around in his head given the normal amount of blood that was in his brain was now being utilized elsewhere. 

She giggled, “you need a little help getting to sleep, yeah? So I thought I’d give ya a little help.”

God, what did he do to deserve such an angel?

“Right now?”

Was this for now or after she hung up? This was new territory for the both of them.

“If you want?”

He felt her back tracking and he scrambled to steer the conversation back to the desired destination.

“Shit, yeah- yeah,” he shifted on the bed propping some pillows to lean back on as he rested his hand over his semi in his pants giving a little squeeze. “Are you- are you touching yourself?”

He heard her inhale before speaking, “should I be?”

“Please,” he almost whispered.

He ground his teeth, waiting for any sound from her. Something to feed his imagination. He lightly ran the back of his fingers over the tent in his pants, keeping his nerves on end.

A small moan sounded into his ear, and he immediately began to work himself with her.

His heart was pounding already, imagining her with her legs open on the couch, her hand working herself over her panties. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he breathed, his fingers slipping under the waistband of his sweats.

She struggled to find her voice. She took a breath, “you.”

“Yeah?” He worked at tugging down his pants. “What about me?”

“Aus,” she chuckled nervously, “I- I- don’t know if I can do this.” 

He situated himself, slowly wrapping his hand around his length, giving her a moment. She always got a little shy with talking filthy.

Not willing to let the mood wane, he chose to take the lead. “I gotcha, just keep your hands busy for me.”

He heard her begin shuffling around before getting settled.

He sighed lazily, beginning to stoke himself, lightly squeezing on his upstroke. His thumb swiped the tip collecting the bead of precum, spreading it around.

“’m so hard for you right now,” he murmured huskily, his voice heavy with arousal watching his tip disappear into his fist.

A little whimper escaped her, rewarding his words, and boosting his ego.

Letting his eyes close, his mind began to tease him with images of her. Her smooth skin, her hair splayed out behind her. Was she starting slow and gentle? 

A sharp inhale brought him back to the present.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. A soft moan followed, melting through the phone into his ear. “I just had to take everything off.”

He couldn't help but quicken his strokes as the sudden image of her legs spread, and center bare on their couch overtook his thoughts. 

“Wanted to get more comfortable.”

“Fuck-, are you wet?”

She hummed, “so wet.”

Hearing her pleasured sounds were going to be his undoing. 

“Put a finger in for me,” he coaxed her.

“Oh-“ she sighed heavily, “Austin.”

His cock throbbed, imagining how warm and tight she must feel. Her glistening folds wrapping around her little finger.

“Keep talking, Aus.”

He bit his lip as a smug smile threatened to appear. He had her right where he needed her.

“Don’t forget about my girls up top,” he spoke, “give ‘em a little attention for me.”

A full moan left her lips, making his cock twitch. He could practically feel her breaths on his ear. His mind kept conjuring up one filthy image after another. One hand in her pussy, the other groping her breast. Forcing his hand to pause, he squeezed at the base as the sudden urge to release overwhelmed him. 

As he willed his heart to slow and the pleasured throbbing in his cock to weaken, a bunch of commotion sounded on her line. He listened intently as it quieted and a rhythmic sound started to come through. He reached down to massage his balls, swallowing thickly, “baby?”

A short whine came from her, sounding distant, before she shuffled the phone closer to her panting mouth, “are you close?”

He let his head fall back into the pillows with a huffed laugh, letting his fingers lightly play at the little sensitive spot under the head. “Just waiting on you, darling.”

He began stroking in rhythm with the sounds coming from her, his limbs tightening as the pleasure began to burn in his pelvis once more, “tell me what you’re doing.”

“I got a pillow-” she gasped, “-between my legs.”

His hips jerked, the primal urge to thrust breaking through his conscious. 

“”You ridin’ it, like you do me?” He panted.

She couldn't even manage to string a sentence together anymore, a groan being her only reply.

“Cum with me baby, in 3-,” he began counting them down, “2-,”

Her whines were high causing goosebumps to cover his flesh, his fist flying impossibly quick over his shaft. He never thought further than her using her hand to pleasure herself, but imagining her grinding herself onto a pillow would be a fantasy he would be coming back to many times in the future, he was sure of it.

“Aus,” she cried, desperate for him to put an end to the agony.

“Cum for me,” he growled; a white heat flooding his pelvis.

A squeak was all he heard from her as she climaxed, and his cock suddenly became impossibly harder as the buzz in his veins shot through his tip. His head pressed deep into the pillows as his body tensed as his climax took hold. White spurted over his abdomen as he grunted like an animal with every lurch his cock gave, draining his seed, relieving his desire.

Relaxing his body, he quickly was left limp as he tried to catch his breath.

Minutes passed as they both regained a normal breathing rate.

He picked up the phone, taking it off of speaker, “thank you, baby.”

It wasn't long after they hung up that he was able to finally fall into a sweet sleep.

Need some more Austin smut? Check out my other works! > Masterlist

[shokiren]

pairing: rin itoshi x reader summary: you, anonymously, run a gossip corner in the schools daily newspaper. the question of your true identity arises in many questions each day, and you must act oblivious to it all at any costs– though, the only people who are aware of your identity are some of the seniors in your literary club, and your closest of friends. though, your anonymity is soon endangered when your quiet classmate, itoshi rin, learns of your little secret. can you charm him to keep your secret?

a/n: yay guys finally an update!! sorry i completely forgot about this, and i wrote this between exam season. it might be shitty i'm not sure, but i hope you like it.

You leaned back into your chair, sighing.

“Dear Gentlest Readers, how have you been? I hope that you’ve been healthy and whatnot, because the news I'm about to tell you is.. something. Are you aware that the Miss Two-Goody Shoes, Yumi Nakamura, has been secretly seeing a postgraduate, Mister Kaito Takahashi? How very obscene!.....”

You covered everything about your school– the events being organised to the latest flings of the students. But lately, nothing really interesting has been happening. It’s all the same. Someone dates someone, and in most of the cases, dumps them because the other person is ‘too much’.

Fuck This, you think to yourself as you get up. You were staying behind in school to write this article in more peace and quiet, which you’d generally not get at home. You walk out of the classroom to walk around, brainstorming about what to write.

Rin Itoshi, the brooding athlete. He wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine– and didn’t intend to be one either. He mostly kept clear of any rumours, but that was hard to do since his female classmates would practically throw themselves at him. He’d brush them off with a glare.

But recently, he heard about an article in the ‘Gossip Corner’ of the student newspaper. He swears that he popped a vein on his head after what it was about.

“Looks like the Younger Itoshi and the Older Itoshi have a long-going feud. Judging by the cold glares between them when the All-Known Footballer came to pick up his sweet, younger brother…..”

How in the world did this person know anyway? This was something that was strictly restricted for his family only. However, he respects the fact that this anonymous person didn’t go into more details about the said ‘feud’. He was at football practice, and had seemingly noticed that his bottle was missing. He excused himself and went up to get it. He glided through the stairs, running towards the classroom you were previously sitting in.  He did see his water bottle standing on his designated table, but also a laptop on the table you were designated. He was a bit skeptical, and sure, he shouldn’t peek because there might be some personal stuff on there.

Still, he couldn’t help his curiosity, and decided to see anyway. On the laptop, there he saw a word with a paragraph half-written, starting with the words that could be recognized anywhere if you were a student of Rakuho High School. 

His eyes widened as he inched closer, reading the paragraph. Oh, it was here this whole time?, he thought. He wouldn’t have given two shits if it weren’t for the mention of him and his brother in one of the articles. 

To be honest, Rin didn’t really notice you a lot other than the times you were scolded for talking too much in class, or when you were being loud with your friends. And now, he noticed you clearly.

You came back into the class– carefree, and humming to the tune of an advertisement you were particularly fond of. So, imagine your surprise when you see Itoshi Rin hunched over your laptop, reading intently.

You shrieked as you hurried over, shutting the laptop as you stared up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Wow, he was a bit pretty when looked at up-close, you thought– but quickly brushing it off.

“So, you’re the snitch?” Looks like someone got caught red-handed.

taglist (open): @raphsimp, @bxddiebloss, @rinitoshisgirl, @someprettyname, @gojoracle + @kurona-theshark

[sametsyun]

I HAVE A FANFIC IDEA!!

Alright you guys know that Moon Goddess from Over the Moon??

What if the reader was Chang'e and she and Lucifer used to go wayyy back, setting aside the whole plot of Over the Moon and changing it to god creating her as an angel to watch the moon or something bla bla bla, and Lucifer would frequently visit that moon she falls in love and so does he. And since Chang'e does wishes n' after she's been given a gift or something like that, I forgot, Lucifer would bring her like little ducks and stuff and she'd grant him every little wish she could.

And here comes the angst, Lucifer stops frequenting at the moon making the reader all sad and confused. She looks for him all over heaven but he isn't there. Why was he ignoring her? Did he not like the wish she granted him? He's probably busy right now.

And he comes back all of a sudden with a big ass smile that makes her think he was happy to see her after not visiting her for a long time only for that thought to be crushed when he simply gives her a gift with no thoughts and asks for a heavy wish

She hesitates because it was slightly against what she was only allowed to grant but still does it anyways.

Here comes Lucifer's trial, and reader is just shocked af to see him there only to realize what he truly needed that wish for and bro she Gon be hurt hurt af when she sees him with Lilith.

The angels then ask for the details and Lucifer panics and straight up snitches on reader for giving him that wish.

So long story short, they casted him down to hell with Lilith. And the reader was sentenced to a lesser sentence since she didn't know what that wish was going to do or what it was going to cause.

But she was still cast out of heaven, never able to enter those gates ever again and is thrown over to the moon alone.

She is left alone in that dark moon desert with a single green bunny that had been gifted to her by Lucifer.

The reader just cries out of heartbreak and betrayal. A tear drops on the bunny and Jade comes to life. Reader is no longer alone and is a tad bit happy she has company.

Then timeskip to a few ion years, and the moon is bustling with lights, fun and parties, just like the movie.

Then we follow Chang'e story, trying so many things to figure how to see Lucifer again.

Well that was long idea. BUT I NEED THIS WRITTEN PLEASE. ADD TWISTS AND MORE STUFF TO IT I JUST WANNA READ IT.

I know I can write this but, I WANNA READ IT IN SOMEONE ELSE'S WORK YOU GET WHAT I MEAN?

[be-co-me]

En Plein Air

Levi Ackerman

5.7k Words

Summary: A mysterious raven haired painter seeks solace in your flower laden patio and glasses of whiskey when he finds his hidden job turns awry. This is my submission for @kentopedia's valentine's collab event, Love Through The Ages. I urge you to go check out the rest of the fics as they are written and posted! (It tried to link it but it won't work for some reason!) This takes place during the late 1800's in the impressionism era in France. This has always been a favorite era of mine, specifically for the art that debuted around this time. Monet's pieces are my absolute favorite, specifically the water lily series and I think everyone should see it. I listened to Gregory Alan Isakov for the better part of writing this, so if you'd like to listen to some folk music as you read (I think the music is very fitting to the vibe of the fic), my three favorites are Empty Northern Hemisphere, If I Go I'm Goin, and Dandelion Wine.

---

Impressionism. The art movement taking the world by storm along with the budding history and developments of the new age, especially had caught your eye. Vehicles, new necessities; water and electricity even being brought to the lower class, such as yourself would be labelled, though you had not yet been fortunate enough to have them in your own home as of yet.

But specifically, what most caught your eye was the art of the raven haired man sitting across the bar from you, occupying a table all by his lonesome as you polish glasses and watch his nimble hands paint, leaned over a decently sized canvas. 2.5x3.5 meters in size if you had to guess. The tall whiskey on the rocks he ordered earlier tucked to the edge of the table as to not disrupt his painting should it be spilled.

His jacket was discarded neatly across the back of the chair placed next to him, his hat forgotten along with his whiskey glass. You realized you had been polishing the same glass for the last few minutes as you stared, when another patron had come to the bar top to order.

Once you served them, your mind forgot the glasses and silverware that needed polishing to end the evening in favor of staring at the man located across from you once more. You noticed many more details of him as he was the lone subject of your attention now. His eyes had not yet met yours as his concentration must have been so deep.

You noticed the paint layered over his fingertips, vibrants and dulls covering the pale of his skin. The painting looked to be outdoors, and, if you didn't know any better, you would say yourself the painting looked finished, but the last three hours of refinery to detail he had done since the sun went down proved to you otherwise.

He suddenly looked up, his gaze meeting the whiskey glass he had long ignored. His paint covered finger tips grazed the top as he picked the glass up and took a long drag from it, smearing different colors along the rim of the glass, something you didn't think you would mind polishing off later in turn of seeing the finished product.

His eyes met yours as he set the glass into the same wet ring the table now adorned from the glass. You retreated your gaze to that of his drink, the ice now mostly melted, and glass now almost empty. Your staring could technically be deduced to the state of his drink, as you were the bartender, but you were wiser to know he would most likely not believe that statement.

He cleared his throat loudly, pushing his chair back and carefully paraded around his adopted work space as to not knock into it. He brought the glass up to your bar, placing it in front of your empty hands, steely gaze now meeting your own, at a much closer distance than you realized you'd be comfortable admiring him from.

The silence between the two of you was heavy as he did not say a word, the gramophone's music filtering through the space instead, something you had been lucky to receive as a gift from one of your more wealthy, regular patrons, saying he had already gotten a new model. Your gaze met the glass once more and you noticed it was now empty, a feat you didn't seem to notice as he made his way to the bar. He must have finished it off.

"Would you like another sir?" you asked, reluctantly meeting his rigid gaze once again. His head swiveled to the table he had occupied as a group of patrons walked past, eyeing the painting that sat atop it from a respectful distance, carefully critiquing it. His head turned back to you with a nod.

"Yes please." he responded, his gaze turning back to the table. You nodded in affirmation and turned to grab the whiskey he had requested earlier in the evening. You turned back to him as you poured, hoping you may engage in some small talk to find more detail into his character.

"Your eyes will be strained painting in the dim light you know?" you stated, eyes concentrated on the pour you gave him. You set the bottle down into it's rightful place and scooped some fresh ice into the cup, placing it back in front of him before meeting his gaze once more, looking for a response.

He stared for a few seconds before responding.

"Better light than my shitty apartment and I only get light in the studio during the day. This was a last resort to finishing by tomorrow." he replied bluntly, but softly, eyes grazing down your frame to give a once over before meeting yours again.

"Hmm. What's tomorrow?" you asked, leaning a cheek against your palm atop the bar in front of him, happy the plan for idle conversation had worked in your favor. His gaze met the table once again before turning back to you.

" A gallery. Not a large one by any means, although I wish to be represented in one someday." he responded, shrugging his shoulders as he sipped from the new glass.

"May I see what you are working on up close?" you asked. His eyes grazed your features once again as you sat atop your palm, taking another sip from your own glass the wealthy patron had bought you earlier in the evening.

"I'd rather you see it when it is finished." he responded. You hummed in response.

"When will that be?" you asked and he pondered the question.

"Depends on if you'll kick me out when you close or let me stay." he responded. It was your turn now to ponder his statement and you nodded, removing yourself from atop your palm and turning to eye the clock hung over the top of the bar, surprised to see the hands nearing closing time.

"I don't think that would be a problem." you responded with a soft smile. He nodded, standing to make his way back to the table. He sat and placed the glass in it's same dark ring as to not make another stain atop the wood, then plucked a fine tip paint brush off the top of his palette, beginning his work once again.

You stared a bit longer than needed, something you hoped he was oblivious to, before picking up the glasses once again and polishing them off.

As you finished your closing duties, the last of the noisy patrons leaving the bar, you poured yourself another tall glass of floral gin, with a dash of floral bitters and tonic. Your nose wrinkled at the burn of the alcohol, strong but smooth in flavor with a flowery lavender aftertaste.

As you finished wiping the bar top down and half of your earlier poured drink along with the task, the final on your list of duties now done, you eyed the raven head man's table, taking note of the empty glass next to him. You grabbed a fresh, icy glass and poured another out for him, bringing it along with your own drink to join him at the table.

You set the glasses down carefully, plucking up the empty glass placed next to him and replacing it with the fresh one. You carefully pulled a chair out next to him and watched him as he painted many more fine details across the span of the canvas.

The style vaguely reminded you of art you had seen in the papers from Claude Monet, an artist you had come to revere for his Nympheas series he had started not long ago. In favor of capturing the vibrancy of life, dark sharp lines were now replaced with colors, vibrant and dull to show the shadows, light, and depth of life in more fine and true toned detail. It also replaced the stuffiness of painting in studios with that of painting outdoors. En plein air they called it. It became a style you rather wished you owned a piece of, specifically that of Monet's work, though it was far too pricey and that dream would remain just so.

It made you feel free, a dream you wished could become a reality, to live in a home atop a pond of water lilies. Only you were not wealthy; your dresses and occupation told others that much, no matter how hard you could try to front that you were. Although you were the owner of a small bar tucked into the middle upper class estate, you were by no means seen as a respectable business owner to many of the wealthy that came to drink the afternoons and evenings away.

The clink of a glass hitting the table brought you back to reality, his eyes meeting yours as he dusted his fingers across a paint smeared cloth. You eyed the piece, wondering if it had been finished. Your eyes met his steely greys.

"Is it finished?" you asked. He nodded, continuing to wipe his fingers. an unlit cigarette sat between his lips, hindering him from responding to the question vocally. You leaned over the table even more, admiring the small details of the piece, attempting to eye the separate brush strokes.

"I'm assuming this won't be varnished correct?" you asked. His hand obscured his face, cupping around the end of the cigarette as he lit it with a match, waving the match around a couple of times to snuffle the flame out before setting it atop the table. He took a long drag, leaning back into the chair.

"You've done your reading haven't you?" he asked, blowing the cloud of smoke away from your direction. You nodded.

"I'm keen to this up and coming style and seeing where it goes," you started, eyes raking the other side of the canvas as you leaned over farther to catch a better glance at the details, "I find the switch up intriguing and rather more beautiful than works of the past." you responded, continuing to eye the painting.

A large garden bed of French lavender swaying in the breeze caught your eyes before moving onto other flowering plants adorning the canvas. It seemed to be of a farmers market, though you noted the lack of people on the canvas. Handmade dresses fluttered in the wind hung to the side of stalls, and you eyed one you thought may look rather good on yourself.

You spent a long while admiring the work and you both sipped your drinks in comfortable silence. You were sure it was well past midnight at this point, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You finally looked away from the canvas.

"It's beautiful. I may have to find where this market is to see it in person." you told him. Your eyes met the paint tubes littering the table, something you had failed to notice before. Maybe he's a bit wealthier than you are, being able to afford the new storage units for paint.

"You've gotten your paint in tubes. Quite hard to find around here." you noted aloud, meeting his eyes. He nodded, finishing his drink off.

"My uncle got them for me on a trip out of town. One of his customers was nice enough to give him a hefty discount, though I'm not sure I'll ever hear the end of returning the favor to him." he responded.

You pointed a finger to his drink and he shook his head. You opted to finish your own and stand, grabbing the discarded glasses and making your way behind the bar to wash them as he began to pack his supplies up. You made your way to the gramophone and halted the current shellac record that played, placing it into it's designated envelope and back to it's alphabetical bin.

You met him back at the table before grabbing your belongings, ready to also make your way home. He adjusted his jacket into prim and proper place after putting it on.

"I haven't paid for my drinks." he stated. You shrugged in response.

"Guess you'll have to come back and see me then."

---

You realized, rather irritated, the next morning, that you had never gotten his name. In favor of the spring day the farmer's almanac predicted would be warmer than the previous early spring season, you opted to open the outdoor patio of the bar for the day rather than the inside, which you would possibly open in the absence of the sun later in the evening. You now admired the flowers littering the small yard in a new light since seeing the mysterious man's painting. Maybe you could add even more flowers, specifically the French lavender that jumped out to your gaze in his painting.

Your morning went smoothly, your cup of coffee being replaced with that of the drinks a regular had bought you. He drank on absinthe, a flavor he had brought home from the military, something that had become quite popular, though you didn't admire the flavor the same way many other patrons had. You refused to drink it.

In the later afternoon, a warm breeze enveloped the patio and your eyes piqued at the raven haired man you had met the previous evening as he walked through the gate. He carried he same painting supplies he hauled last night, gaze wandering for a table that was open. Currently they had all been occupied and his eyes met your own as he made his way to the empty barstool in front of you. He looped his bag across the rung of the back of the chair, placing his jacket and hat across it before sitting atop the chair. You were rather glad you had worn a nicer dress in favor of seeing him again.

"The usual?" you asked, grabbing a glass to make the drink anyways. He nodded.

"Not quite sure I've been here enough for you to be asking me that question." he responded. You poured into the glass and scooped up the ice, placing the glass in front of him. He took a long sip from the glass, eyeing the drink sitting atop your work space. Your cheeks felt warm and you were sure they were rosy, the tip of your nose tingling at the slight buzz of the gin running through your veins.

"How was the gallery?" you asked. He shrugged, messing with the buttons of his white shirt as he unbuttoned the top two at his collar and the cuffs at his wrists, rolling them up a couple of times.

"I got quite the offer on one of my paintings. I'll be meeting the gentleman here later today." he responded.

"I'm glad I could convince you to come back, let alone bring others with you." you responded wittily, taking a sip of your drink. Your gaze wandered over his raven locks of hair, noticing the cigarette tucked behind his ear. His bangs fell into his eyes, probably due soon for a haircut, but you rather liked the longer hair on him.

He began to dig out supplies from the bag, canvas ditched for a sketchbook in lieu of the considerably smaller workplace he could now work with.

You continued your work as he began his, hastily making drinks as more patrons poured in. You thought you may let him know of an open table lest he'd want to move, but you'd rather he stayed closer, and he was so endowed in his work. You thought it better not to interrupt him unless you brought a new drink along with you.

As the afternoon slowed and patrons rolled in at a lesser frequency, you stood in front of him, taking a break from the drinks you had earlier in the afternoon once your wealthy regular left, in exchange for water. You tried to catch a glimpse of what he worked on, sketching out lines across the pad with graphite rather than any paint as of yet.

Another man made his way next to him, setting his own jacket and hat atop the back of the adjacent chair, and it was only now you got a glimpse of the work as he set the book down to shake hands with the new man. Your eyes scanned the page, a drawing resembling the flowers of your patio across the page. You felt a warmness trickle inside your chest as you looked back up, asking the other man what he would like to drink on after refilling the raven haired man's glass. Another whiskey, but neat this time.

His sketchpad then sat closed atop the bar for quite long as they conversed over the painting the man would be purchasing. You eavesdropped on their conversation, noting the painting being purchased would be the one he spent the better part of the day working on the previous evening.

You felt excitement for your newfound 'regular', dare you call him, when you heard the monetary value placed on the work by the other man, and in the raven man's expression, you found an honest surprise to what the wealthy man would pay for the fine art as they shook hands on the price, a celebration found in lieu of another drink.

As the evening sun faded into the starry sky, you lit the lanterns adorning your patio, painting it down to a bright orange and yellow haze.

"I'd like to tab out, and I insist you put Levi Ackerman's drinks on my own tab." the wealthy man insisted. You eyed the raven haired man, his gaze one of annoyance, in lieu of hearing his name for the first time before nodding. You told the man the total and he made his way out of the bar with his new piece, after leaving a hefty tip.

"It's a beautiful piece, I'm not surprised it was sold so quickly, Mr. Ackerman." you told him, testing his name on your tongue as you poured him a new drink.

"Just Levi please." he responded, taking a long sip of the fresh drink after you had placed it in front of him.

"Okay Just Levi, what are you sketching out now?" you asked. His eyes met yours in warning at the joke, shaking his head as he opened the closed sketchbook back up. Your eyes raked over it, as you found it the same as the last time you snuck a glance at it. He picked the graphite back up, beginning his work on it once more.

You noted the graphite smeared across the meat of his left hand, something you thought must have interfered with his work quite often. For sitting at the bar for the afternoon and evening, the depiction of the space you created was accurate in it's fullest across the page, the lanterns now being added in one by one.

You fell into the same routine as the previous night, Levi worked on his art as you closed your bar down, continuing to pour him drinks every so often. You poured one out for yourself, in search for a buzz from the alcohol again to warm yourself up in the colder breeze the night had brought in.

You finished your duties and your drink, pouring another as you made your way to the seat next to him, watching him as he leaned over the sketch and placed carefully calculated, soft smudges across it with oil pastels now, bringing the page to life with color. You noted the dull fingerprints of the pastels atop his glass, something you again wouldn't mind to polish away. You rather liked the lack of people in his paintings, you noted, as you found the depictions of the wealthy often polluted what you thought the nature of the paintings to be about; what they meant to you personally. Freedom.

He finished off the drink after half an hour, along with he sketch, and you grabbed the glasses, yours long empty and your body warm, as you washed the glasses under the warm water and set them atop a shelf to dry in the evening breeze.

You found the page torn out of the sketchbook when your eyes met his figure again, edges neat and crisp, sat atop the bar. He dug a glass frame out of the bag, placing the painting carefully into it. He then pushed the frame towards you across the bar top, and you picked it up with a sense of delicacy, careful to not mess with the pastels sat behind the glass. Your eyes roamed from the sketch to that of your patio a few times, noting the details even you would have failed to notice.

"Yet another beautiful piece of work. I'm quite honored you'd choose a place of my creation to bring to life." you commented, sliding the frame back to him carefully.

"You keep it. I insist. And let me pay that tab." he responded, fishing out cash from his pocket. You shook your head, taking the painting and placing it in a nook below the gin shelf so you may eye it more often in lieu of when you would be pouring your own favored drink to enjoy after long evenings.

"This is more than enough payment. I insist. So long as you let me enjoy your paintings, you can drink for free in my establishment." you responded. He left with a curt nod.

---

One day passed, then two. Three days became a week before you saw him again. You began to worry, and even felt a bit disappointed at the absence of your newfound favorite patron. A rather solemn look adorned his pretty features the next time you saw him walk through he gates of your patio, and you rather thought that he could be a painting himself as he walked to and sat across from you at the bar top right before closing that evening. You noted the lack of paint supplies and the angry red color under his fingernails and the blistering red of scrubbed hands in the lantern's orange light as he set his palms atop the bar.

"I hope that's paint under your nails Levi." you told him, your gaze leaving his hands as your brow creased in worry, turning to grab the whiskey bottle that sat abandoned the past week and pouring it into a glass. You heard a mutter of curses leave his lips and you set the cold glass in front of him. He took quite a long while before nestling the glass in between his hands and taking a sip from it.

You opted to try his drink of choice for the evening, abandoning your own in lieu of trying a new flavor on your tongue, your eyes still grazing over the oil pastel depiction of your patio every time you made a drink in his absence. The new type of burn made your nose scrunch involuntarily, a much stronger alcohol percentage invading your taste buds.

You turned to him once again as the notes of smoky wood and caramel smoothed over your taste buds, the strong alcohol leaving a rather pleasant flavor behind. You could see why he enjoyed the drink, especially colder.

You sat in a rather comfortable silence, and after he finished the first of what you assumed to be many drinks quickly, he let out a rather exasperated sigh, throwing his head back and leaned far back against the barstool, his arms folding across his eyes. You continued to sip at your own drink, grabbing the bottle next to you to pour into his empty glass, scooping the ice into it. His posture didn't change.

"Want to talk about it?" you asked, voice struggling as you took a sip of the strong whiskey, realizing he hadn't said a word to you in the half hour he had been there and you rather longed for the sound of his deep voice again.

It took him a long while to sit up before shaking his head. You nodded in response.

"I thought I'd have to revoke my offer if you didn't come back to see me you know." you joked lightheartedly, his gaze finally meeting your own, excitement fluttered in your chest as he inhaled to speak to you for the first time in a week.

"How have things been around here? Any trouble?" he asked. You shook your head in response to the rather random question, taking note of the lilt of edge in his voice.

"Just the regular drunk hooligans and their usual shenanigans on occasion. I'm far used to it by now." you responded, taking a sip of the drink. He reached into the chest pocket of his already buttoned down white shirt, grabbing the case of cigarettes and matches from it, lighting one up. He took a drag from it, blowing it away from you, eyes meeting your own once more.

"I'm glad to hear so. Seems to be trouble everywhere else." he responded.

"My offer still stands. Don't you know bartenders aren't only good at keeping bars but also secrets?" you asked with a worried smile, polishing away at a glass you'd forgotten previously to keep your hands occupied. His gaze met over both his shoulders, you assumed to confirm the lack of bodies besides the two of you within the vicinity before freely speaking of his absence the last week.

"Being an artist doesn't make much money you know, unless you're well known, which I am not." he said, pausing to sip at his drink, and you nodded in following attention of what he would explain. His tone became significantly quieter as he spoke next.

"My uncle works for the mafia, and unfortunately I have to help him. I owe him the debt of removing me from the deepest depths of society. No, I owe him my life, as much as I hate to say so. No favors that I repay him would ever be enough." he continued, ashing the forgotten cigarette before taking another drag from it.

You nodded, processing the information as you took another sip of your drink, the ice steadily melting. You wondered if that was all of the information he would allow you to know of the subject or if he would continue on. You eyed his hands once more, the redness of his skin waned, but remained underneath his fingernails. You ran a cloth under warm water as he continued to sip at his drink, grabbing at the brim of the glass in his particular way. You wrung the steaming towel out and placed your arms across the bar top, pointing towards his unoccupied hand. You couldn't help but to think the red was placed there earlier in the day, and after attempting to harshly scrub it away, he wanted to seek solace in your establishment and your presence.

"May I?" you asked, your eyes staring strongly into his own, the question coming out as more of a demand rather than a request for permission. His gaze softened and he nodded, placing his drink down on the bar top, the fingers of his right hand staying wrapped around it.

You gently wiped around top of his left hand, lightly rubbing into the creases of his fingers and knuckles before gently turning his palm over and doing the same, making sure to wipe over every millimeter of the skin on both sides before turning his hand over once more and beginning on his fingernails. His glass sat empty in your concentration and he reached for your own, something you didn't mind as you rubbed his cuticles clean.

You pulled the towel taught around your thumb nail, running it underneath his own nails to remove the angry rusty red. Once you finished his left hand, you ran the towel under the warm water once again, cleaning it of it's dirt now, setting your palm onto the bar in demand of his other hand without a word.

He placed his palm carefully onto yours and sipped at your drink carefully as he watched you clean his right hand. As you began on his upper forearms, you felt his muscles untaut across your palm and he visibly relaxed in your peripherals, a sigh leaving his lips. You felt your own shoulders relax as well.

"I like these hands more when they're covered in paint and pastels, not in danger Levi." you nearly whispered, finishing up underneath his nails. You placed the towel under the water once again, cleaning it thoroughly and tossing it onto the back of the bar after folding it up.

He brought his hand back to him, wrapping it around the glass in his other hand as he examined his now clean fingers. His bangs covered his steely grays as he pondered a response to your statement.

"I hope one day that's all you'll have to see them do." he responded quietly in return. You poured a short glass of the whiskey for yourself this time, topping his own off as well, reveling in the intimate environment the two of you had blossomed in the first of his visits.

For, in technicality, the third day of knowing him, you already felt quite a hearty connection to him, even more so than your more frequent bar guests. If anything had happened to him and he didn't come to the bar anymore, so suddenly, you'd be quite upset, on an even deeper level than you'd felt the past week.

"I hope I get to know you long enough to see that happen." you said, used to the burn of your drink now, your eyes meeting his own. You stared into his eyes, finishing the drink and placing the glass down. You stepped atop the milk crate at your feet and placed your elbows atop the bar, hands intertwining with the collar of his shirt as you pulled his face much closer to your own. His gaze penetrated your own as you took over the solemn conversation, noses nearly touching, your eyes flitting down to his lips and all around his visage, taking in his sharp features, dark long eyelashes, and plump lightly chapped lips before tracking back to his eyes.

You noted they were more of a slate grey, the flecks of blue you hadn't noticed before much more pertinent in the close proximity you'd brought about. The color reminded you much of the hydrangeas nestled in the back corner of your now peacefully quiet patio, peaceful, though your heart was thrumming harder than you think it ever had. His palms lay wrapped around your forearms in anticipation.

The color of his eyes dwindled away as they closed and his lips captured your own, the chapping of them brushing roughly against the edges of your lips. You captured his bottom lip between your own in an attempt to soften it against the petroleum across your own lips.

Your hands brushed the briary undercut he donned and his palms brushed over your shoulder blades with a squeeze as he pushed harder into the kiss you had initiated. You could taste the smokiness of his cigarette, homogenous to the smokiness and burnt caramel of the whiskey you had shared earlier in the evening, and you hoped he could taste the same on you.

Your intimacy was broken up by the loud thunder rumbling off in the distance, the breeze picking up strongly, something you failed to notice in your already lovesick state. You broke apart from him, chest heaving, staring into the slate of his eyes that reminded you oh so much of your hydrangeas you had moved closer to the front of your patio earlier in the week.

His palms lay wrapped around your forearms once again, yours in much of a similar manner. You smiled deeply at him and noticed for the first time that he returned the sentiment back to you. You sat in a more than comfortable silence as the pace of your breathing returned to normal, the searing warmth of his palms a comfort to your skin in the late cold breeze. The coarse thunder boomed once more, a streak of bright white light painting the sky and his eyes, before quickly disappearing into the covered stars.

"I need you to always come back. Please. You're my new favorite regular you know." you told him breathily. He nodded in response to the sentiment, gaze following behind you. Your eyes met the path his own followed, staring into the painting he had made for you the week before.

"Who would I tell my darkest secrets to if I didn't? And who would clean my conscience figuratively and literally when I've found myself in trouble?" he said in response, slate greys flitting back to you.

"I'll always be here, whiskey glass in hand, whenever you need it you know. I'm not going anywhere." you whispered. He nodded, rubbing his palm up and down the expanse of your now exposed forearms, your sleeves rolled up earlier to clean dishwares.

The both of you gathered your belongings, ready to fare out the storm brewing as he insisted he walk you home. He pointed out the colors of the dull night, bringing it to life in the now drenched city estate. You turned back to look at your closed down bar, and the flowers of your patio that much needed the rain thundering down from the sky.

And you found yourself more alive than you'd ever felt, standing in the rain, looking upon the result of your life's works in peace and harmony.

The landscape now bloomed in vibrants and pastels in your wake, no longer dull and forgotten. Your world flooded with a new sense of colored hues as you gazed upon your flowers, in a deeper sense of detail than before; and you found that raven colored black he brought about earlier in the week was not the absence of all the colors you had previously thought it was, but rather kin to the mix of the many hues littered about in the bottom of the raven artist's bag and across his canvases.

---

Please let me know what you think! I think this is by far one of my favorite pieces I have written. I wanted to add more, but I felt it would ruin where it leaves off, so maybe a part two will be due at some point if requested. I wrote this last night after a pretty scary time; my college campus had an active shooter and our whole campus was kind of shook for the better part of an hour (no one was injured!), but writing definitely helped to calm me down, so I am glad I made an entry for this! This is lightly edited as I don't have much time before class, so please excuse any mistakes!

[tmntxthings]

∑一 Gasoline・゜・。

author’s note: so I started this months ago and came back today and somehow finished it? it’s now 4 am and idk what I’ve written but we posting it babyyyyyyy

song: reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine, ben kessler

warnings: cursing, narcissism, over-dramatics, cringe, sarcasm, flirting, confessions, unedited

—————————————————————————

Okay, I’ll admit. I’m not the best when it comes to..following the rules? Heeding caution? Listening to anyone??? Yeah not the greatest in that department.

But! I’m practically flying high in all others. Better brother, better turtle, cooler weapon, and not to mention handsome as fuuuck. So handsome in fact, I know I’ve snagged your attention. Heh. Call it what you will, intuition or gut-feeling, I know I’ve been occupying your mind.

But the thing is, you won’t admit it. No matter how much I prod, tease, or blatantly ask. It’s always “Leo, no.” “Leo, stop!” “Leo, shut up!!” And never “Yes, I think about you endlessly Leo, you’re right, and super handsome, be my one and only turtle”

…

Yeah…

It’s never ever that. And maybe that’s the reason why I can’t let this go. Because I know I’m right. If I wasn’t why would you keep coming around? Why would you spare glances my way? Why would you wear blue? It was all so infuriating to see these little details only to be denied again and again.

Raph says I’m getting a little obsessed. Donnie doesn’t give two fucks. And Mikey says something even worse, that I’m in love. Barf. Gross. Me? Love? Hell no. I collect admirers. I flirt with everyone. Unabashedly. Why would I fall in love with someone who is so clearly in denial that they are in love with me??? All I’m doing is getting them to admit the truth, and then they’ll be another tally mark. Another addition to the ever growing list of admirers I have.

It comes with the title of being the Face Man and all of that. Perks of being me I guess!

And so I was up to my usual antics.

“Keys Y/n, keys babe!” You scoffed pushing my hands away. “Keep your grabby mitts away, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive.”

“I curbed one time Y/n. Once! Give a turtle some slack here!!” I’m practically begging at this point. Because I have a plan. A genius plan to get you to finally admit the truth. It’s going to be epic.

“I think you’re also forgetting the three times you purposely ran into trash cans. You almost backed into another vehicle. And don’t get me started on how many times you accidentally forgot the keys in the car!”

…Okay so maybe there are a few more reasons as to why I shouldn’t be driving. But no matter! I’m a master manipulator. I can sway those around me like a pro. Plus since ya have feelings for me, I’m sure you actually really do just wanna hand over those keys. You’re just like playing a little hard to get is all.

“Whaaaa?? Are you sure that wasn’t Angelo? Pretty sure that was totally him and not me.” A big cheesy smile lights up my face trying to turn that frown of yours upside down. “Plus in any case I’ve got super rad portal powers to snab the forgotten keys!”

“Leo. No.”

And the actual begging and groaning and bemoaning ensues. I don’t throw temper tantrums that often. Only when necessary. After many ‘pleases’ and promises to drive extra careful. I finally get my long awaited—

“Leo, I said noooooooooo!”

A hard flick resonates against the space right above the middle of my eyes. Dramatically I flinch backwards crying out in faux pain. My hands going up, one covering the space that has just been so grievously wounded. “Oh c’mon that didn’t hurt…”

“Did it?”

Peeking through my three fingers I see the wisps of concern on your features and it’s at this moment where my all-of-the-sudden-plan enacts. As you draw closer out of worry it’s just too easy to create a small portal with my other hand that is behind my back. Don’t ask how the dagger got in my palm. Sometimes being a ninja just has its perks.

And just like that the keys to your car are securely in my hand and I bolt before you can realize you’ve been…hand-pocketed? Pick-pocketed? Whatever the case!

As I gloat from the driver’s side window, with the locks safely on so you couldn’t just rip open the door and strangle me like you were threatening to do right now. I make a show of raising the volume in your car and celebrating more with a little dance in the drivers seat. It’s not until you shake your head and the flames extinguish from your eyes do I dare to unlock the passenger door for you to get in.

You do slam the door close though. “Dramatic much?”

I can’t help but tease. I love winning. I love rubbing it in everyone’s face. And it makes my bones sing to see you get so riled up all over little ol’ me. You glower, somehow holding your tongue, perhaps giving me the silent treatment as you take over the music.

Driver gets veto power though. So I skip a bunch of songs you choose until I feel the flames start to rise again and I worry we (or rather I) may never even make it out of your driveway before I turn into roasted turtle. And that can’t be tasty.

So I let this particular song play. Humming along since I don’t know the words as I start to pull out and drive on the road. You stay silent for the most part and that just won’t do so I may or may not get a little too close to a curb for comfort on your side of the vehicle.

“God damnit Leo if you curb!!” You hiss as you clutch the handle on the car door. “Whoopsie!” I laugh getting back to the middle of the lane easily enough. “Where did you want to go so badly anyways?” You grump. But at least you’re talking now! “It’s a surprise!” I sing-song.

Now initially, my plan to force your admission of feelings was to continue to drive really recklessly and maybe almost die in a car crash or something like in the movies. And while you think I’m about to die you just have to tell me that you are helplessly in love and like magic. Confession secured.

But now thinking about it more seriously there are plenty of unknown factors like, what if I do actually kill myself in the process. Or ya know, you get hurt? Or I just wreck the car and we both are totally fine?! I don’t see myself surviving much longer after that if that ends up being the case. So I have nothing. Zilch. Nada. No back up plan was really made.

So I just drive.

And as previously mentioned, I’m not the best driver…

So you are on edge the entire time and constantly telling me to “Watch out!” “Don’t curb!” “Don’t hit that dude crossing the street!” “Red means stop!” “Yellow means slooow!”

Thankfully I know what green means. Aka turtle. Aka go ninja go ninja go. I’m proud of that one. Anywho, the drive winds up and down the backstreets of New York until even I don’t know where the fuck we are.

I pull over, parallel parking. Miraculously it’s one of the few tricks I can do with a car and you breath out a very unnecessary sigh of relief. “So this is the surprise?” You are looking around the low rise buildings with slight curiosity but more confusion than anything.

Nothing here is really special. No shops. No bright sparkly lights. It’s actually pretty grim because a few of the streetlights are out making the dark night even darker. It’s probably the least romantic place in the world. Definitely holds no sentimental value for an awe-inspiring confession.

My head hits the steering wheel as I close my eyes and say “Yup!” As bright and false as possible. I feel like a jerk and even worse than that a failure. I’m greeted with silence and I don’t open my eyes to check your face. I’m sure it’s turning into disappointment right now.

“Leo, everything okay?”

My head turns slightly, if only because your voice sounds a little different. I mean you usually are quite serious, but it’s also one filled with… care? “Just thinking.” And that is not a lie, just a very vague statement.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I mull it over. What am I even thinking? Driving around in the middle of the night. Being chaotic. Being a nuisance. Being with you. Dragging you along. Trying to get you to say something you’ll never say in a million years. And turtles sadly don’t live that long.

“Y/n, do you like me?”

I don’t dare take my eyes off of you now. Truthfully I feel like spewing out nonsense to cover up my mistake. I just had to open my big fat mouth. To actually say shit I actually mean. Or in this case something I really want to know. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, and you tilt your head as if you hadn’t even considered that a possibility. Liking me.

I’m instantly filling up the silence. “Like better than Mikey right? Pretty sure I don’t have to sweat over Donnie. And Raph may be second place but I’m definitely number one right?”

This way it’s easy. This way it’s safe. This way no one gets hurt. This way I don’t get hurt. This way I can play it off.

“I do like you.”

My thoughts empty and I straighten up. Swallowing back the spit that’s suddenly filling up my entire mouth. “Right duh, of course you do. Everyone does!” I laugh, smiling big as if nothing you just said affected me. Like I totally won’t be thinking about this even later tonight back at the lair. Overthinking it. Surely you meant it as a friend… but a turtle can hope?

“Even though you are so annoying.” You tack on, but your smile is too much. It’s genuine. It’s not plastered on like mine. It doesn’t hide anything.

Oh shit.

I just continue on, blabbering complete and utter nonsense at this point. Because part of me can’t believe it. That you really said it. That you do like me. That this surely isn’t possible, that you’re about to laugh and say that this was all some funny joke.

“Do you like me?”

And where there was nonstop chatter, it turns to silence. I avoid your stare now. In fact I turn my whole face away because I can feel my red marks heating up. Which is never a good sign. Blushing will only end in embarrassment. More than I can handle.

“Whaaaat? Me? Like you?”

I leave it open ended. To be inferred that I couldn’t possibly. But I think I just continue shooting or maybe slicing myself in the foot. Over and over and over again. Because in the window I can see you’re still looking my way. And your lips are pursed together in a small know-it-all smile. I whip my head back around, forgetting all about the embarrassing heat that covers my face.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

And then you lean forward.

Time slows.

And I feel your lips on mine.

And my eyes are so wide. I don’t know what to do but just stare. I don’t move. I don’t breath. Your eyes are closed and your lips are soft if only a little chapped. You pull away slightly, and I can feel your breath fan over my face.

“Good.” Is all you say. And I nod like a dumb pile of rocks is all I have for brains. “Now how about I drive?” Again I’m nodding.

The only thing that breaks the trance is the warning beep from your display signaling that I’ve just wasted all of the gas left in your tank.

…

Whoops!

—————————————————————————

[late-to-the-party-81]

Contentment

AN: So here is something a little different inspired by this ask from my sweet Nicoline

@nicoline1998enilocin asked: Hi! 💙 I hope I'm still on time to request something for your 1.5K follower celebration! This idea has been swirling around my mind since seeing your message that they're open and of course I forgot about it with my scatterbrain. 🫠 I don't know if you've ever written anything like this (in case you have, it's okay to ignore this message), but may I request some soft/slow morning smut with Loki? Perhaps with some of his magic included as well? Before I forget, congratulations on reaching 1.5K followers, and I wish you many many more because your work is amazing and you deserve it 💙

Unfortunately there is no magic in this, other than the magic that is just Loki, but I hope you still enjoy. You also get a two for one - the second part is a very lyrical drabble, from the Reader POV, which came to me first, but I then re-wrote from Loki’s POV to add more detail and in case people didn’t like that style. Click here to find it.

Not beta’d

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Summary: With a new day comes a new chance for Loki to show you what you mean to him. He can’t wait until you wake up.

He was lying behind you, as usual, one strong arm slung over your waist, holding the bottom half of you flush against him. He hadn’t wanted to disturb you, so hadn’t moved, just watched as the invading light and retreating shadows cast shifting stories over your skin. One persistent shaft of sunlight had encroached so far that it lay across your shoulder and under its warm touch you stirred.

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Word count: 1k

CW: Sleepy Sex, Soft Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Emotional Sex, Fluff, Loki PoV

Loki didn’t know how long he’d been lying awake. The colour inside the room had shifted from black, to deep purple, to pink and then to orange as the sun rose outside the window. However, time meant nothing to him when he was with you.

He was lying behind you, as usual, one strong arm slung over your waist, holding the bottom half of you flush against him. He hadn’t wanted to disturb you, so hadn’t moved, just watched as the invading light and retreating shadows cast shifting stories over your skin. One persistent shaft of sunlight had encroached so far that it lay across your shoulder and under its warm touch you stirred.

Loki’s lips twitched up into a smile. You were waking and soon he would see the brightness of your eyes as you welcomed the new day.

“Good morning, darling,” he whispered softly in your ear and he looked on, enamoured, as your eyelids and nose scrunched up as your brain tried to cling onto your fading slumber. 

Softly, he brushed his lips over your shoulder blade, wishing that his lips could leave marks that would stay adorning your skin for all to see. He shifted the hand that lay on your waist, his fingers gently stroking over the soft skin of your abdomen. At first you had tried to hide this part of yourself from him, self-conscious about the rolls and marks to be found there, especially in comparison to his own defined abdominals. However, he’d let you know in a myriad of ways since then that he loved every single inch of you and that any changes you wished to make to your body should be for yourself, and not out of some misguided notion of what appealed to him. Every version of you was perfect.

However, as much as he normally loved to worship your body with slow reverence, the time he had spent waiting for you to wake had made him impatient, and Loki slid his hand further down your body, skimming between your folds. You sighed at his touch, your hips rolling instinctually. You rocked, still half asleep, forward onto his hand and then back onto his erection, where it grazed your ass. Shivers rocked Loki’s body, but as impatient as he was, he could still manage to wait, just a little longer.

Loki knew your body so well now - knew just how and where to touch you, and it wasn’t long until his tender strokes had your cunt gushing. Part of him wished he could see it, but this would do for now. He would savour the whimpers that broke from your lips as his fingers finally dipped inside of you, his thumb taking over the stimulation to your clit. He rolled his wrist and curled his fingers as you continued to rock forwards and backwards. Your channel clutched at his fingers and one of your hands now clung onto his forearm. He kissed your shoulder once more and your body tensed then juddered under his touch, your head still turned slightly into the pillow, absorbing some of the sounds of your ecstasy. 

He smiled to himself as you drew in deep breaths, but then Loki turned you to lie on your back. He covered your body with his own, his hips slotting between your thighs as though you were two matched puzzle pieces. His hair, dark as a raven’s wing, tumbled over his shoulder and he looked down at you, marvelling at the way your eyes were fixed upon his, your adoration clearly telegraphed on your face. You only shifted your gaze when his tongue poked out between his lips and he snorted in amusement, knowing exactly where your mind was going. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d indulge that particular fantasy of yours later on, but his patience was exhausted. He needed you! Now! 

Loki lined himself up with your puffy cunt and you spread your legs even further, tilting up your hips as he slowly sank inside. He let out a groan in time with yours and enjoyed the way you clung to him as he started to move his own hips, slow and sensuous. Bracing himself on one forearm, Loki trailed his lips across your jaw and throat, nipping at your skin, while his free hand roamed over every inch of your body he could reach. The breathy sighs you made in response were music to his ears.

“My beautiful darling,” he cooed in your ear. “Just feel it, my love. Feel how much I adore you.”

The way you moved under him, incapable of coherent speech, made him feel both powerful and possessive. He had done this to you and only him. No-one else would make you feel the way he does. No-one else would be privy to the sounds you make as pleasure sweeps you away. They are all his. A Prince of Asgard he may be, but he was the King of your body, and he would make no apologies.

You trembled and whined and he kept his steady pace, despite how difficult it became. The way your body clenched around him was driving Loki closer to his own peak, but he needed you to precede him.

“Let go for me, dove,” he told you and, the good girl that you were, you did, your body seizing around him, milking his cock, as you tumbled headfirst into bliss. A few more strokes and he could hold out no more, following you with his own cry, his hips now jerking without rhythm as he spilled into you.

Somehow he managed to roll to the side, pulling you with him, your arms and legs entwined. He held you close, his heart feeling so full he was worried it might burst. He pressed kisses to your forehead. Your nose. Your chin.

“My angel. My dove. You are the centre of my world. You saved me, darling.”

He mumbled his words as you looked up at him, eyes glazed and cloudy with a combination of residual pleasure and sleep.

He loved you so much. You made him content.

Tag list: @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @buttercupcookies-blog, @goldylions, @crayongirl-linz,

[smokestarrules]

May I ask about the Star Vs downspiral? I remember seeing commercials about that show but that's the extent of what I know. But I'm curious now.

Well, honestly there was a Lot that contributed to its fall from grace, but here are some of the lowlights.

(It's been a very long time since I watched this show so I may be forgetting some details; this is how I remember it).

A) Four prominent characters are drawn into a horrible, horrible love square. Star herself, Marco, who is the other main character whose family she stays with while on Earth, her ex-boyfriend Tom, and another character who we meet later, Kelly. I'm sure some people always shipped Star and Marco, whatever, but a significant amount of the fandom including myself were beyond content with their relationship staying platonic---romance was not a factor that needed to be brought in to make us care about their dynamic. In fact, romance just about killed any enjoyment for them at all because it was so poorly written.

Marco and Star go back and forth between taking that romantic step and subsequently rejecting each other for various reasons. At some point Star gets back with her ex, Tom, who seems to have turned over a new leaf. Marco and Tom even have episodes where they hang out together too. Then Marco starts dating Kelly at the same time Star and Tom start to fall out again.

Now that I'm writing this I've realized I actually forgot another entire character who was wrapped up in this; Jackie Lynn, who Marco has a crush on in the early season(s?). She and Marco are together at some point until she leaves him because he's clearly not into her anymore. There are five characters who get stuck in this terrible plotline.

It's just... so needlessly dramatic and completely unnecessary. Star and Marco end up together, of course, but in doing so they completely screw over those two other characters, and by that time, their relationship just leaves a bad taste in fans' mouths.

B) Star VS as a show initially started out as pretty episodic and pivoted to a more narrative-driven storyline later on, which isn't at all necessarily bad, but a lot of what I personally liked about the show ended up being pushed to the wayside because of the bigger emphasis on the plot, and it was disappointing. Not everything needs to have a massive earth-shattering narrative to be good.

The early episodes were character-driven, full of incredibly interesting worldbuilding, and just fun to watch. All of those things were shoved away to make room for something more dramatic and serious.

C) The main bad guys are also pretty much an entire species which is never a good idea because it breeds so many uncomfortable writing decisions. They're "monsters" and they are The Bad Guys, who the Regular People need to stay away from. The narrative kinda tries to challenge this concept, but in the end it's really just not important whatsoever.

Honorable mention) When the show was still good, Marco had a couple episodes in which really interesting things were happening with his gender; he crossdressed as part of Plot and then seemed as as if he was confused about how it made him feel? But later on that plotline turned into more of a joke than it already was and went nowhere. Just weird.

D) How the show ended was one of the absolute worst I've ever seen. I truly cannot explain to you just how--bizarre it is; anticlimactic, rushed, unexpected in the worst way. To stop people from fighting, Star makes the incredibly quick decision to just. destroy magic.

So she does.

The aftermath shows that the two dimensions (Earth and Star's original home, Mewni) are now merged together in some sort of 'happy' fusion, magic is completely not a thing anymore, and entire species that have before been shown to canonically need magic to survive are dead because of it, though the show doesn't think to provide a better explanation for that at all.

And it ends.

[kentparsnipparson]

oh man, it's been so long since I've written check please fic that these one shots for Deck the Haus 2023 are going slowwwwwww. I forgot so many small details that made writing fic for it easier.

So much fact checking like wait what years were everyone in??? when did Lardo move into the haus????? Why can't I remember anything any more, /sigh

Still gonna write em tho....it's just....not what I'm used to, to have to take writing fic slow.

Anyway, shameless plug for my old Check Please fics in case you're jonesin. (and to maybe help give me some more motivation uwu)

Hello, Internetland - 32K, 16 Chapters, TW for mild homophobia Eric is an up and coming Youtuber. He's steadily gaining followers for his baking tutorials and vlogging about his life. But his mom and Coach find the vlog and give him an ultimatum: "Be straight" or leave. Thankfully, fellow Youtuber, Shitty, reaches out a helping hand.

Nobody But You - 1700, one shot, fluffy Cait/Chowder meet cute Cait got a job at the nearby children's ice skating rink and got to watch Samwell's Hockey team teach kids. Though one of the members stood out way more than the rest.

Holy Jeewilikers Batman - 1200, One shot Jack lets Bitty pick their matching Halloween costumes. Set during Bitty's junior year before they reveal their relationship.

Let Me Break On You Like a Wave - 1600, one shot, Zimbits meet cute AU Bitty gets roped into a beach volleyball tournament. At least there's a cute boy on one of the other teams to keep him occupied between games.

Pickin' locks and Hearts - 2900, one shot, zimbits meet cute AU Jack is a little confused by his (maybe) neighbor trying to pick the lock of the apartment next to him. But he looks a little too helpless to ignore.

Go for Broke - 2200, one shot, Ransom/Tater The next time Tater visits the Haus, Ransom finally gets his life together and talks to him.

Okay, shameless plug done. I just know these are older so they don't get seen as much on AO3.

[celeluwhenfics]

hihi I don’t know if you’ve ever talked about this before and I missed it but here are a few things for you to rant more on pHORSEsuasion as there cannot be too much of it for us to delight.

How was the story and character of Rowena born? Like, if you could remember and retell, the moment you first realised to yourself that you would be writing her in the fashion of Austen? Was it a very long journey that slowly took shape, or an idea that hit you square on the head?

Is there a set time and location you have to write the fic out? Anything from real life that inspires you and you take inspiration from? I think I remember you loving horses (in a club?) and that sparked the love for Rohan? …or is it an anecdote of one of the many Rohan buddies on tumblr….😭

Is there a playlist, specifically, you’d have for the story?? A pinterest board perhaps? 👀 anything about pHORSEsuasion please

On a scale of 1-5 how much would you say the ideas and thoughts relating to the fic occupy your mind throughout the day?

thank you in advance if you ever get around to answering and talking more about this beautiful fic <333 i also read the short about “the creek game” which is utterly amazing.

don’t you worry overmuch about taking your time to work your best on the chapters! even in these intervals your nice story occupies my mind frequently just to think of Bréda

Hi! Thank you so much for your ask! It makes me happy and giddy that someone is still thinking of pHORSE (and dear Bréda! ❤️) even as chapter 2 is taking a long, long time to come out. I've been hard at work on it. It is coming SOON!

It's exactly as you say: the idea hit me square in the head. I hadn't interacted with LotR in a decade, didn't know AO3 or fandom communities existed. I watched the movies with my partner one weekend, and as I tried to fall asleep that Sunday night, the idea of Éomer as Captain Wentworth sprang all formed in my head. And when that horrible pun found me as well, I knew I was onto something. 😅 The next day I wrote the outline, and in its broad lines it hasn't changed since, it only got more refined and detailed as I reacquainted myself with canon!

I am a horse girl! But I don't ride anymore for various reasons. Not much of the story is related to my real life, although every natural landscape, historical tidbit or little everyday situation can inspire me. (Oh yeah and I almost forgot to mention, but last month I went to Bath to see the original setting of Persuasion for myself...) I mostly write at home on the weekends, but I also have written LOTS of thoughts and ideas on the Notes app on my phone, either on the bus, at work, on runs... I've also been known to stop in my tracks in a grocery aisle or step off my bike to note down an idea or a line of dialogue!

I always write in complete silence (and I don't have pinterest), but in a past life I studied musicology with a speciality in early music, therefore YES, there will be some very specific musical references, which I will share on this blog of course! I've done a post on the two songs mentioned in chapter 1. There won't be any music in chapters 2 and 3, as it's a very bleak time in the story and silence takes a lot of room, so to say. (But I have a Borodred one-shot WIP that I don't know how to wrap up, that is very musical, you might see it one day!)

*nervous laughter* I would say it varies between 2 and 5. It's been months, and every day it's somewhere in my mind. Which is not always convenient, because I have a PhD to do!!! And at some point since my brain wanted to think about it 12 hours a day no matter what, I lost a lot of sleep over it. I had to find a better balance, because sleep is important, and once again, I have a PhD to do, on a subject I'm very passionate about!!! But, yeah, if I could write all day every day and churn out chapter after chapter for my lovely readers, I would!

Thank you SO MUCH for your ask, I'm always super excited to talk about pHORSE! Even if there has been no recent update, the project is very much alive, I'm working tirelessly on it and thinking about it all the time. Don't hesitate if you have more questions! And stay tuned!!! 👀

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Whumptober Day 27

27 VOICELESS | Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

Whumptober Prompts List | Masterpost

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 700

Tag List: @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf

@the-ellia-west

CW: lab whump, ptsd, magic suppression, muzzled

----------

I don't remember a lot from that period of my life. My body remembers more than my mind, which tried its best to block out the horrors of those weeks and months spent trapped inside that sterile prison. 

Many a dream has ended with screaming, clutching at my mouth and throat for a muzzle that is no longer there. Most of the dreams fade within moments of waking. And for that, I am grateful.

Silence was preferred. Forced. The muzzle was to keep me from speaking, from pleading with my captors for freedom, respite, comfort. For compassion.

I almost forgot how to use my voice. Even after my escape from that wretched place, I would rarely speak aloud, preferring hand signs, gestures, and written words. I am told I was stealthy too, although I'm not sure when that particular response came about.

I don't doubt your surprise. But I will remind you it has been many years since my time there. That is one of the reasons I chose to speak about it now. Another reason is because it's you, and my history, no matter how… horrific… needs to be told to those who deserve to know.

Those who are in danger of suffering the same thing.

Interesting, how once you become the victim of a home invasion, nowhere ever feels truly safe. Not even a coffin buried in the ground will soothe my paranoia that they will find me and bring me back to that horrible, horrible place. It was night when they came for me. I’m not sure how they found out about me, my mother, ever the worried sort as was common in that era, drilled into me at an early age to hide my true self.

Hiding wasn’t difficult, I was allowed to express myself freely within the safety of home, so I was never as careful as I should have been. Because of the measures my mother took to keep me safe, I never felt as though the danger actually existed. So I must have slipped up.

That night is a blur in my memory. Honestly I couldn’t even tell you when it even happened, my sense of time got so fucked up I only have an estimation of my age. I remember a loud crash, and yelling. I rarely heard my mother raise her voice, so her shouts stuck with me even as most other details faded away.

After that was the facility. I was kept in a cell, with metal bracelets around both wrists and the muzzle over my mouth. The bracelets always quietly hummed with some sort of energy that I am now certain suppressed my abilities. The first weeks were incredibly disorienting as I got used to the loss of something that I had possessed all my life. It was difficult to think, let alone focus on all the fucked up tests they ran on me.

I suppose, in a twisted, bitter way, I am grateful for that.

The stink of rubbing alcohol is always prevalent in my dreams, so I assume it accompanied much of my waking moments. The taste of the leather muzzle, and the blood in my mouth were also constants. Bruises on my arms, my legs, my face…

To this day I can’t stand the sight of needles. Can’t stand the touch of any fabrics that remind me too much of the simple loose clothing forced upon me. You can see the scars from the bracelets. I… I can’t sleep in silence, or in darkness.

And I couldn’t even speak.

I got away, yes, but it took months, and I cannot pretend that I escaped on my own. I do not know what happened to the guard who pitied me enough to let me out. I can only hope that he was able to slip away as well. Insubordination within their own ranks was sure to be met with severe consequences.

I hope you understand the severity of what I am trying to convey. I do not know how I have gone for so long without being found a second time. This is why we hide. This is why we must remain the world’s little secret. Some humans may accept us yet. But for now, the danger is too great.

You understand?

We’ll see.

[kanmom51]

JK live 5 August 1:41 am KST

Part 1

*cr./To the creators of the media used in this post.

This one was a monster to tackle.  One more of his 2:30 hr. lives.  How this man does these lives is beyond me.

Truthfully, this could have fit into a one parter. But you see, there are just so many moments happening I didn't want you to miss out on, that I decided to split it into 2 parts.

So, lots to talk about, not so much as in heavy big substantial and more as in cute, entertaining and adorable.

And even though it's a long one, it's not one of those heavy lives where you need to be attentive the whole time. It's more about the vibe in this one, and that vibe can be described in one word:

A pleasure.

I lied. 2 words then.

JK started the live 5.8.2023 at 1:41 am KST. 

So for number we have:

5+8+13

2+2+3+1+1+4=13

13

or another option:

5+1+4+1=11

8

8/11

1:41 am a little early for him, eh?  But this was him coming down (or perhaps not just yet) from the adrenaline rush of being on stage not that long before. 

I was a little surprised at first him spending that high with us and not with JM, but then knowing that JM was performing the next evening, had a log day in front of him, not to mention probably not wanting to get him sick (you could feel the strain on JK’s voice during his performance), nor have JM deal with same voice issues he was dealing with before his performance, it made total sense that JK stayed away.

So JK is still hyped up from the performance and he’s doing the live from a new location at Brunnan, his room.  He starts out the live by telling us that, and that he wants to do the lives from one location and he set this up especially for this purpose.

And let’s talk about this for a second now.  He dressed the shelves up.  He placed things on the shelves he wanted us to see.  Perhaps taking off those he doesn’t want us to see. He’s pointing at the middle shelf, where Suga’s album is.  This is his rookies autographed albums too. He knows we dissect every little thing w see in the lives.  And he put that Silk sonic album right at the top, over his shoulder, so no one misses it.

Details that pop at you right away: 

He has Burn it playing (he feels so guilty he forgot the lyrics while performing).

He has the Silk sonic album on the shelf behind him.

He has something from JITB on one of the shelves And Yoongi’s album as well.

Later on in the live he opens up Suga’s album, after laughing that he could have written something for him other than Jungkook, lol.

Also noticeable is what’s missing – FACE.

That one album he has been hyping for the past several months. But I guess you don't need a signed album when you have the actual singer at home with you.

JK opens with telling us he performed at Yoongi’s concert and he was so nervous, not being on stage like that for a while.

He was nervous so he messed up the lyrics at the beginning.

It’s amazing how hard he is on himself. 

Like us, we don’t even care.  We got to see him on stage.  He sang with Yoongi and performed Seven.  Win win.  So, he forgot a few words at the beginning of the song, so what?

But to him, it's not only a fail, it's him letting down Yoongi, and it's eating at him. And he just cannot let it go.

Oh, and by the by he’s wearing the ring on the necklace again.  Which he will be asked about further on during the live.

Yeah, so he’s being hard on himself. 

He’s asked about his cold, says he’s taken medicine for it.  And later he confirms that indeed he is still suffering from that pesky cold that will just not go away. Later on in the live JK is asked again about his cold, answers yes, he still has it but is taking medicine.

Since it was Suga’s concert he starts the playlist with D-day the album. 

He’s so disappointed in himself, calling himself an amateur.  He says he was overpowered by army’s screams. I just wish he would give himself more slack, but that’s just the way he is. 

I guess he needed to come vent.  But maybe also needed some of us to tell him it’s ok, which I’m sure there were those that did. More comment of that kind than he actually reads out aloud for us.

He goes off camera, breaks some dishes in the kitchen… I’m joking…or am I?

Comes back with his tumbler and his drink (probably his usual).

Takes him a bit (way more than a bit) to let go of it (his 'messing up').  He’s doing it all with a smile, but still not letting it go.

Next time he won’t make mistakes…

Hey JK, did you forget that you are human???

JK explains it took a while to go live after he got home from the concert as he was fixing up the internet and setting up the room for the live.

He wanted to go live to talk about the things that happened that day.

He had a recording and then did the concert.

*Interesting as of its own. Recording for the album? What kind of a recording? Of course he doesn't tell us.

He ends by saying the ending (of the day) wasn’t good and slaps his thigh (not the last time he does that, just one of those things one sometimes does when they are angry at themselves or disappointed in themselves). 

He tells us that he has no schedule the coming morning.

But you see, he's too hyped up and angry at himself to rest.

Army try to tell him we didn’t even notice, he’s still not buying it, lol.

Do you think we didn’t get stupid ass comments during the live? 

Of course we got them.  Ian being one of them (and not only once either).  No matter how many times he’s asked to stop with this stupidity, it just keeps going on.  Once is funny.  Twice amusing.  Three times annoying.  Anything more is just plain infuriating, even more so after asked to stop with it.

JK’s asked to play his favourite song for army but says he has to play Suga’s songs.  Man is trying to repent, lol.

But he really is upset.  He talks about while performing Seven, had one of his ear pieces out so all he could hear was the drum and he felt he was singing off key. He doesn’t think it was the sound system, but his mind was out of it.

He goes to look for the performance uploaded to YT by army (naughty) and watches it, and again so harsh on himself.

He’s not happy with his performance and stops it towards the end of Seven.  He is amused though by the fans at the concert singing the “fucking” version…

So, JK is reading comments, not reacting too much.  We’re close to 30 minutes in and there was a handful of comments maybe that he read out.  Makes you wonder if it’s because he’s still caught up in the whole “I fucked up” thing or that the comments are pure crap.  Probably a combination of the two.

He wants to have a concert.

Me too JK.  I want him to have a concert.

But he keeps going back to burn it.  Should have practices more. Disappointed.

Do we see a theme to this live yet?

At this point you can see he’s getting even more upset.

And then he decides to change the angle of the camera cause his right side is better, lol.

You think he's done with the concert?

No sir.

At this point JK starts asking if he can do it again tomorrow. 

He starts by throwing the question into the air several times. Then he asks staff members if he can have a chance to redeem himself, as he has a resting day the next day.

Nope, he's not done.

Because then he tries to get army to talk to the company. 

Like what about suga? Shouldn’t he be the one to decide about this?  Lol.  Oh wait, then he tells army to call Suga.  Lmao.

He goes on with a little emotional manipulation on us:  “do it! We are friends. No?”  Lol.

See what's going on here? Yeah, JK's terrified of Yoongi. Lol.

He continues saying that if it was his concert he’d be ok, but because it’s yoongi’s…it’s kind of rough.

For all those that are all about : if he’s JM’s bf he should have known JM is performing the next day.  Well duh – of course he knows.  Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to redeem himself.  He knows he probably can’t, that there is another member going on, and that’s why he’s ‘trying’ every way possible to maybe make it happen.  He’s saying the words, but let’s be serious here for a second.  He isn’t really expecting to get a yes as an answer. Wait a little longer, cause it gets better.

People keep asking him about food. Poor man. Just leave him alone, he's fasting. Well, trying to. Really really hard. And it's a real struggle too. Just wait and see.

Then he’s asked about the necklace.

Here's what JK had to say about the necklace.

Ok, so here are my thoughts about this one.

Let's start with the way JK says "I don't think so. It shouldn't be" the necklace from Seven while checking it out, is really strange.

And truthfully, it really does look more like the ring JM has on his necklace in Like crazy.

So, strangely ‘someone’ gave it to JK in the past, we don’t know when or what for, and it strangely happens to be very similar if not exactly the same as the ring on JM’s necklace which he wore for Like crazy MV.  Story could very well be true.  His reasoning for wanting it or liking it sounded a little, how should I put it? Ehm… odd. It’s also the facial expression while thinking what to say that felt a little off to me. 

But here's the thing. The chain, it doesn't seem to be the same, but the ring, it looks really similar. We are assuming that the ring on the chain is JM's to begin with because we first saw it in Like crazy. What if the ring was JK's to start with? And JM wearing it in his clip was having a part of JK with him while filming the MV?

We already know that the ring on the chain JK is wearing in Seven is not the same s the one we saw on JM in Like crazy. What if that ring is actually JM's? What if that's why JK was so quick to say that the Seven ring "shouldn't" be the one he has on?

A lot of What ifs, and a lot of possible delusional thinking. And yet, I know I'm going to be on the look out for JK's Seven ring around someone else's neck or on his finger.

To those that thought maybe, or those who are spreading stories about a tour:

From the horse’s mouth.

Someone writes a lovely comment, which he thanks them for.

“Take care of yourself… I am worried but proud." 

He says “thank you”, and

It was!

See?  That’s how it should be.  Not bloody Ian or touch your nose or marry me or other sorts of fuckery.

JK starts to explain that he has a gaming room.  But since he doesn’t game anymore (there we have it one more time), he brought the Wi fi from the pc room into the living room. Brought it (I’m assuming the router) and connected it again.  Wi fi didn’t really work well in the bedroom.  He connected a Wi fi extender outside the bedroom and it didn’t work well.  He put it into the bedroom and it’s working.  So now he’s able to do lives in his room.  “It’s so nice…” and wait for it, cause here it comes again…

And here I am asking myself why?  Why not do the live in the pc room where you say you had proper working Wi fi?  Was there something there you didn’t want us to see or was there something in the bedroom you wanted us to see?

Or, and here it comes again, is this all to tell us and show us how he has made a total disconnect from gaming.

Listen, you could have called me delusional the first time I said JK was adamant to tell us he has stopped gaming (with Tae and the Woogas), back when he first said he's selling his computer cause he ain't playing games anymore. Maybe even the second and third time he told us that and I was "yeah, this is clearly him sending us a message, hammering it in again and again". But now, seriously. If there is anyone that isn't seeing it they are wearing blinders. JK has been hammering this in for the last 4 lives at least:

"I AM NOT PLAYING GAMES";

"I AM NOT GAMING ANYMORE";

"I AM NEVER GAMING AGAIN";

"I DISMANTLED MY GAMING ROOM, DISCONNECTED THE ROUTER AND MADE SURE THERE IS NO MORE WI FI THERE";

"I HAD PROPER WI FI IN THE GAMING ROOM BUT DECIDED TO DISCONNECT IT ALL AND MOVE IT TO MY ROOM AND DO THE LIVES THERE, CAUSE I AIN'T GAMING NO MORE, LIKE EVER AGAIN AND IT'S ABOUT TIME YOU GET THAT THROUGH YOUR HEADS."

Oh, and did I mention that he repeated it twice here. That he doesn't play games anymore? Within a span of a minute or so?

So yeah, think what you will, JK ain't playing games no more. Like ever. And you know who he was connected to be playing games with in the past few months? No need for guessing. Tae and the Woogas. So guess who he ain't playing games with no more.

43 minutes in JK is still at himself for forgetting the lyrics.

And again wants to go back tomorrow, lol.  Doesn’t need to sing Seven, just Burn it.

At this point we are almost ¾ of an hour into the live. Man is not giving up.

Ok, so now he’s talking about infiltrating the concert and just going on stage, lol.

And then this:

LMAO.

He’s hungry, wouldn’t have guessed it…

And he takes us on a walk through the house to the kitchen…

Ok, so now we know for sure the location of his bedroom.

Plays with the light in the lounge.  I do get how when you have multiple light switches you can forget which is which, I do it all the damn time.  And his reactions to the light.

So finally we reach the kitchen after a bit of a walkabout and then asks army to help him decide if to eat or not, or more so “is there any army who will stop me?” lol.  He wants to eat. But he hopes army stop him.

he decides against eating something after remembering he already ate ‘today’, the 4th (well technically it’s the 5th already so he didn’t actually eat yet, lol).  It ain’t easy this intermittent fasting, even more so his way of 1 meal a day.  I think he said he’s doing 20-4 or 22-2 which are both super hard, especially for someone as active as he is.

And then remembers he has to wash his towels and put them in the dryer.  But gets distracted and starts to vacuum.  And where exactly he was vacuuming I have no idea, he went and disappeared into the butler’s pantry/laundry.

And then he’s talking to himself about having less towels than he thought he had, still off camera.

Towels in dryer (?) and now we are back, not eating and on our way back to his room.

We’re back in the room and he’s still dreaming about that makguksu. 

He finally kind of lets go of it around 1 hour into the live, saying he really needs to let it go.  Although he does still talk about it.

Happiest moment in life? “when I see army”.

The reason he likes concerts, of course he likes singing and dancing and performing, but army is the reason he likes it the most.

And this is when Yoongi makes an appearance.

My guess, she said laughingly – either staff or a one Park Jimin (who was supposed to be asleep) called Yoongi to tell him “go take care of this.  End it once and for all”. Lol.

Yoongi in the comments. 

JK asks again if he can come tomorrow and Yoongi says no, JK laughingly disappointed.

Answers yoongi of course he’s excited meeting army after so long.  But then he’s upset about messing up, so how does he think he feels.

Sorry.  Sorry brother!

He was scared by army screams, and it’s been such a long time he was overwhelmed and blanked out.  He compliments yoongi, yoongi goes.

"Yoongi said I can’t go tomorrow.  He said no. why can’t I?"

Ok, so I guess this is where I'll be cutting off part 1 of this 2 part post.

Should we call part 1 D-day regrets?

And if part 1 is D-day regrets, would part 2 be D-day blues? Or perhaps Makguksu blues?

Talk about foreshadowing...

See you soon with part 2.

[thatlightningbtch]

I fell that it is practically consensus that Nere is a sorcerer (or would be if he were recruitable), since it is reasonable for a new companion to provide the benefits of a new class to the party. But as I looked at our favorite True Soul's character sheet for the thousandth time I began to consider another class, based on three small elements: the Dissonant Whispers spell, the Extra Attack feature and Nere's resistance to Psychic damage.

Extra Attack: a passive feature which can be acquired at level 5 (Nere's level) by several classes, like: Barbarian, Fighter, Monk, Paladin, Ranger, and Warlock (with Pact of the Blade). But no mention to Sorcerer.

 Dissonant Whispers: a level 1 enchantment spell which can be learned by Bards and the Great Old One Warlock subclass. Again, the Sorcerer class isn't included.

Resistance to Psychic Damage: This one I recognize is a personal deduction of mine due to my interpretation of the previous topics. At level 10, a Great Old One Warlock gains the passive feature Thought Shield: Psychic Resistance, a gift that may have been brought forward for gameplay purposes. However, the subclass also gains the feature "Thought Shield: Psychic Reflection" which reflects psychic damage inflicted by an attacker, but none of Nere's abilities confer a similar effect.

So far one can notice that the Warlock class is mentioned twice and it is specified a Boon Pact and a subclass that could both easily fit Nere's character. Of course these are just tiny details with dubious narrative value, but by following these clues we could infer that Nere had THE reputation in the Absolute's cult, indeed. Not even Disciple Z'rell (another warlock) was blessed with so many custom-made gifts. It's intriguing that he remains a True Soul instead of being a Disciple (unless he has been demoted, which is quite unlikely for no other NPC in Moonrise Towers mentions this).

The question is: is it possible to consider The Absolute, an Elder Brain, that much later evolves to a Netherbrain, as a Great Old One? And if so, what could happen if the connection between them is interrupted? His desertion would just simply result in the loss of all special features granted to him, or could it be that his ceremorphosis would be completed instantly as punishment? One way or another this is an interesting possibility that can offer a narrative arc directly tied to the main plot, one that is not limited on just seeking revenge over the respective Chosen who recruited him (sorry Minty. Still love you, tho. You deserved better than what you got 😭). That's it, the end of my eccentric piece of useless considerations that would not be possible without a generous amount of overthinking and free time. Thank you ♥

Note: I edited this post to make it more succinct and to add a few things I forgot to mention when I first wrote it. However, if I happen to find something else that complements what was written here, I think I will make another post so this text does not become too long and boring.

[11queensupreme11]

honestly like going through your asks i agree sm how underwhelming heroes of olympus was. like in the og series there was so much death, betrayal, and character development and in hoo we see percy and annabeth in tartarus (which i felt like their disappearance should have had waayy more of an affect on the rest of crew but without annbeth as their leader and percy as their glue how are they serving) and Nico's forced coming out ceremony (poor boy was tamazatized by cupid and ric didn't even delve into much more after that?).

gaea was so underwhleming and i don't belive at all that she could have been beaten after she was fully formed. like there was no actual counter against a primordial and percy and annabeth only defeated luke bcuz he killed himselves. like i don't think celestial bronze can actually do enough damage to kill a god, yet alone the earth! (divine weapons be looking a little enticing here) and at least with kronos their was a personal connection. like i get that she tried to kill the people in the prophecy like with leo but i felt like it was so long ago leo had already comes terms with his mom's death. there was no emotional charge that should have been there and the romans vs greeks was so disappointing. i didn;t like at all that the greeks were good and the romans were evil and i felt like jason was to easily accepting within greek ranks. like yeah i get it, greep camp is more chill but their was no promised internal hostility and it just felt like their big battle wasn;t that big of a mutal battle, just greeks tryan stop another invasion. and don;t get me started on the athena statue. that was written SO weird and it definitely should have been established way earlier in the series. and poor nico and reyna tryna haul it across the world when they could have contributed much more. their perspectives was such a snooze-fest and i was just like what the hell is this side-quest?

like the second series was more mature and professional writing wise so i expected much more blood and gore. every demigod was a tragedy is the og series so it was so weird to see everyone live happily ever after after. and like i felt like he forgot how to create chemistry after percbeth. like japer??? was lacking like any flavor and hazel and leo had more chemistry than frank. like frank and hazel could have been such a good sable couple if they were written better. and the foced interactions with the mini-quests in the books were so awkward. rick should have created so much more interactions with each other or killed them off if he couldn't manage that many characters.

YES 👏 YOU 👏 GET 👏 IT

heroes of olympus honestly seemed so... poorly planned to me? like with pjo, a lot of plot points connected so well together whereas hoo was a mess and i genuinely think the amount of main characters was what rick had a lot of trouble with.

the first two books, the lost hero and the son of neptune were actually pretty good and that's because both books strictly focused on just three characters and three povs each. but then when the seven finally joined, things went downhill 😭

the last book was super disappointing. the seven + gods vs the gigantes went by really quickly and most of the "fighting" was just a paragraph or two of each battle. as for the gaea battle.... yeah 💀 i think it would've been cooler if the demigods (roman and greek) worked alongside the gods to take gaea down since, like it was mentioned many times before, that gaea would've been hard af to beat once she formed 💀

A DETAILED TEAM UP OF THE DEMIGODS FIGHTING ALONGSIDE THEIR GODLY PARENT??? POSEIDON AND PERCY SQUARING UP??? ZEUS AND JASON????? ANNABETH AND ATHENA???? I WOULD'VE LOVED THAT!!! 😩 (i definitely believe athena would be nagging her daughter throughout the whole fight about how she still doesn't approve of her boyfriend and annabeth is just "omg moooom 🙄 focus on the battle!!!)

octavian could've been better written too! it was clear that he was supposed to be the "luke" of the second series with gaea as "kronos", but his death was meh to me unlike with luke who i genuinely felt bad for especially since his reasons made sense. octavian... i didn't feel any sympathy for.

rick's favoritism for piper was also an issue for me too, especially as i grew older and out of my 'not like other girls' phase 😭

pls im just hoping that if hoo gets made into a tv show too, that there's MAJOR changes to it 🙏

[escapistsatellite]

zoids headcanons

NOTICE: editing this a few times for grammar and to add details that I forgot the 1st time. (⊙_⊙;)

Just some stuff about zoids worldbuilding that I've written odds and ends of on paper but haven't made digital at all yet, but probably should since I'm thinking about it.

"First contact" as it were happened much later, so much of innovation/rediscovery of ancient zoids engineering marvels was accomplished without human intervention.

Organoids: Europan organoids are theropod-like, Delpoian organoids resemble felids and canid, and in fact share common ancestors with Command Wolves and Helcats.

Zoidian diets consist of mainly vegetables, grains, nuts/legumes, and fruits. Proteins are provided by species of arthropods and fishes that are considered unsuitable for adopting as companions. This eventually leads to the development of massive, archology sized farming facilities to keep up with year-around demand. Animal-based dairy products naturally do not exist on Zi, but they do have various analogues to plant-based "milks" that are primarily used as cooking ingredients rather than drank straight.

Zoid reproduction: Their are 2 broad ways that zoids produce young->

1st, the Dinosaurs:

quick recap of canon: all zoids reproduce when they die, which causes embryonic mini-cores to break off of the dead core and move towards water (...somehow...) and once in the water begins to grow into new zoids.

Some of this still applies, but with significant differences: all zoids have a breeding season and dino/dragon type zoids lay their embryonic mini-cores in deposits of mineral rich water containing select vital elements, no death required. In this water they go thru the following growth stages (per the Iron Bible, pt 3):

The adults remain gathered around the area and guard the pool while their young grow. The problem is that after the planets ice age these pools became scarce everywhere but Nyx and deep underground in scattered areas. In fact many species of dino/dragon type zoids have gone extinct in the wild outside of Nyx and depend on Zoidians and their ability to replicate the unique mineral springs to survive.

Beast type zoids: Comprised of mammal and bird zoids, these species essentially reproduce by egg laying. This cuts out the need for mineral springs and the young are quite mobile upon birth, much like ungulates on Earth, and usually develop a full set of teeth and are capable of eating solid foods within 2-3 weeks (until then they eat partially digested food regurgitated by the adults, or a nutrient rich gel excreted by special glands in their caretakers' mouths).

Organoids (both types) reproduce much the same way as beast type zoids.

Domestic Zoids: come in two broad categories.

The machine beasts that we all know and love:

And what I'm tempted to call "bio zoids" for lack of a catchier term:

Zoids that were never fully mechanized, and serve as transport, protection, companionship, etc on a smaller scale than their larger cousins. (Obviously these are the only canon examples available, but the tech for cyborg zoids has gotten more refined than this over time, becoming streamlined, smaller, and in some cases can be removed when not in use and reattached when it's time to get back to work.)

After a few centuries of divergent breeding machine beasts bloodlines naturally produce more massive, energy abundant cores and can no longer reliably produce their own bodies since Zoidians have been doing it for them for so long. (A severe drawback yes, but mechanization gave them 2 brains and they are evolving the ability to use their radios and digital wireless connections to communicate digitally without rider intervention, so...)

Some domestic zoids only exist as fully natural or partially cyborgized forms since their machine bodies have been left behind by modern technology and most of the general populace find more natural zoids easier to care for. Including all of these guys:

are just cyborg animals now.

The beginning point of zoid fuselage development begins with the above and ends with:

The fact that fully natural zoids have all their viscera compressed into a single super-organ means that they have room for much more muscle and connective tissue, so they are much stronger than non-zoid animals of similar size.

COMP Score: COMP is short for "compatibility" or "compliance" score, meaning a zoid's likelihood of accepting a revolving selection riders/pilots; the higher the score, the more likely the zoids will accept guidance from multiple people. The lower the score the harder it will be to find a suitable rider/pilot, and while they don't entirely reject Zoidian authority, but those authorities are never as respected as a truly accepted partner. Zoids are tested to ascertain their individual score, but different species have expected average scores.

This may be a part 1/2 if I end up thinking of anything else.

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Just me fangirling every day since you decided to answer my message thinking on the fact that my wirter crush answered me! 😭 Blue! How many times I tought about the fact that I would love to have a book written by you on my hands to keep and cherish forever while I was on my way to read all you have shared! 💜 An now that I've read the lattest chapter of OLL 🥴 I'm done! I will religiously follow you to see and enjoy what you have to tell us trough your stories!

You ask me to tell you which is my fav story so far, but it's nearly impossible! Instead may I say WHY I love each one? Let me tell you that the first story I read was The CEO BTS one, and to say that I was speachless is little compared to what I really felt! I forgot about time and got lost and carried away by your style of writing! I was (still am) so enamoured of the fact that you write Bangtan so well! I can perfectly picture everyone doing what you say on every scene. For example, I remember the scene when MC was locked away on the archive room and everyone was trying to coax her open the door asking what happened but Hobi was the one who went to actually investigate what happened going to see on the security cameras, I nearly yelled: OF COURSE IT WAS MY MAN! That's so hecking OC of him! 😫 Think there was the point when you bewitched me 😂 I'm OT7 but Hobi is my forever bias ❤️ Rhen when I started reading OLL and got to the point when we saw Hobi's sadistic side 👁️👄👁️... Well, I've never before harboured thoughts of him doing that kind of stuff but it was so perfect that it just makes total sense with his personality 😂

And then I got to read Bleeding butterflies 😭 and I have zero regrets of not sleeping those days because I was so hooked on the world you created! The way you describe every member with them powers that fits so well! The way you included that awesome scenes with Taetae speaking to Erebos, Nyx and the other gods! The scene with the fairies emerging from the woods 😍 Blue you have my eternal gratitude for letting me experience that universe along my seven boyfriends 😭

I hope this long long letter doesn't botter you 🥹 but I have a ton of compliments to write, because as I previosly told you, I've been on a rollercoastee of emotions reading your works ❤️ The last story I read was Harbouring an hybrid 😭 and I'm so worried for Jiminshi that it brakes my heart to pieces! Altought I still harbour some hope 😭

Big thank you for answering my message and hope you know how amazing and how talented you are! 🫣 Sorry! Much text... By now you must know how passionately I express myself 😂 I left much toughts unsaid! Like how I adored The royal bodiguards AU 💜 and every What if story 😍 specially the Hybrids! Because You take care of details and explain every hecking fact too well it blows my mind!

Okok love u and goodnight!

😭😭😭 do you know how many times I’ve reread this 🥺🥺🥺 I actually want to bawl my eyes out this was everything 💜💜💜 you can have whatever the hell you want from me lovely, whatever update chapter new fic idea spoilers etc etc whatever you want it’s yours I don’t even care anymore that was everything 🥹🥹🥹

My universes are so close to my heart so when someone appreciates them like this I just get so soft 😭

I am keeping you forever and ever and ever don’t even THINK about leaving me I will riot and go on hiatus until you come back 🥺 …..no pressure 🤣🤣

I’ve actually reread harbouring a hybrid because I need to update it it’s been too long and I forgot how sad I made it 👀 even I was like what the hell

Please take my heart and all my love 💜