#THEY - even in an alternate universe are so THEY

[elys-writing]

everyone thinks its a hoax at first, like prerecorded with special effects. then the streamer actually responds to chat, in real time. saying the stupid words the chat is asking them too and everything. so then they think its a stunt somehow.

i mean if it is a stunt its working. the chat's gone from less then a dozen people at its top to the thousands.

everyone accept those original few fully think its a hoax and over a few hours they lose interest, leaving a community of maybe 100 at its top. as time goes on that number drops to around 30. people have jobs, lives to get too. the 30 left are either teenagers or living off commissions of art or anything they can do on the side. a few of them have even figured out ways to get a small stream of income from the live stream itself!

oneday one of the streamers irl friends finds the discord server and confirms it all. they confirm the streamer is missing, that theres no traces or leads to follow other than the live stream. and the live stream doesnt give them anything. the streamer cant identify where they are and any analysis of the backgrounds turns out nothing. the case goes cold within a few months.

this goes on for years. the streamer and their chat begin to know eachother on a first name/username nickname business. they've managed to move the stream to a private platform that seems to stay running no matter what.

for two years this goes on. some of the teenagers are in college now. one of them is learning code because of this, another is now a history major and a third is doing an independent study of alternative universes.

two of the older people in the 'fandom' that met through the stream get married. the streamer sits in the house they've built themself all day as chat live blogs the wedding. they're set up on a monitor so everyone can see them even if they cant see the actual wedding.

another person has spent these years attempting to hack the chat. and one day, in the middle of the winter, they succeeded in transmitting a audio signal instead of simply text to speech. the streamer cries at hearing one of their chat, now close friends, voice. everyone else takes their turn to chat with the streamer one on one. from that point on theres almost always atleast one person in the voice chat.

one night a monster attacks the streamers house in their sleep. its an owlbear, a wyrmling, something along those lines. the chat is doing their best to warn her of incoming attacks, spotting what she cant. but that night, during the attack, the streamer gets knocked to the ground and the stream goes dead.

for a few months, everyone is frantic. then they all grieve. the discord remains, the old channels and name still there. but now newer channels are most used. their just a friend group now, with a bond that they can never explain.

then, 5 years later, the person who hacked the chat gets a knock on their door. they open it to see their best friend, the streamer, smiling awkwardly. Ɛ>

[clj-art-blog]

Let's add a little modern...

Some thoughts when drawing:

Just imagine how the construction company "The Shuiyuntian Corporate" sent the designer-architect Xiaolanhua to the company of the main and dangerous competitor - the company "The Cang Yan Hai Group". For them, she was useless and talentless. Also, giving her a chance to prove herself would be a waste of time in their general opinion.

And so after some time, Xiaolanhua blossomed and her talent is revealed first in front of the eyes of the General Director Dongfang Qingcang, who at first treated her indifferently, but out of boredom and some curiosity still "watered" her still immature "cute sprouts".

And so soon, Xiaolanhua's boundless talent, like a beautiful orchid flower, decorating everything and everyone around, became the subject of discussion and admiration all over the world.

Of course, the management and all the employees of "The Shuiyuntian Corporate" bitterly regreted the previously made decision - to get rid of the treasure and blessing of heaven, which they did not have time to consider in her face (Did not want to). But it was too late.

But between these events, one day at a general conference of this industry, Changheng came, who knew all the time about Xiaolahua`s talent, but was afraid that it would become a threat to her, so he did nothing for her growth (Canon lol).

And then one day, Changheng watches with sadness how Xiaolanhua and Dongfang Qingcang are enthusiastically discussing some other successful project. When Dongfang Qingcang notices this, he states the fact with a stern glance from under his brows: "Look and remember. she is MY employee. She is MY sweet and talented designer-architect who works in MY company and shares excellent ideas with ME. MY talented baby girl who prefers to work with ME!

[zenruu]

A Needlessly Thorough Analysis of What Hardening Actually Means for Alistair

You can also read this analysis in a Google Doc if you find that format more palatable: here.

(I do recommend desktop for the comfiest viewing in either case, but both should be serviceable.)

Disclaimer: If critical discussion of a character’s feelings, motivations, and reactions to certain in-game choices could be personally upsetting to you, maybe don’t read this. None of this analysis is me judging you/your choices as a player, I am simply looking through the lens of Alistair’s characterization and the in-universe consequences of choices. Of course this analysis will be colored by my own bias, it’s inevitable. I can’t realistically include every potentially relevant line of dialogue, but I’m always happy to discuss if you think there’s something crucial I left out.

Hardened Alistair is often described as learning to stand up for himself and becoming more assertive, but why? Is it an accurate assessment? Even Alistair himself reacts to the hardening dialogue by saying he’s going to start thinking for himself and looking out for himself more, so surely it’s true… right?

To the contrary, I would actually argue that hardened Alistair tends to put others before himself more than unhardened Alistair. Let’s start by looking at how he becomes hardened.

The Hardening Process

After meeting Goldanna, Alistair is understandably devastated to find that the family he’s been dreaming of his whole life is not what he had hoped. He’s just been yelled at and turned away by the sister he’s never met, the only family he’s ever had a chance of knowing. He’s lost his hope at finding that sense of connection and belonging he’s always been looking for.

If the Warden wants to harden Alistair, they need to tell him, “Everyone is out for themselves. You should learn that.”

The message being sent is basically: suck it up, move on, grow up. This is the way the world is. Stop being so idealistic.

The message Alistair seems to receive, however, is a bit more complicated. In the follow-up conversation after meeting Goldanna, Alistair tells you that his takeaway from the hardening dialogue was that he needs to look out for himself more. This is, obviously, perfectly in line with the common belief that hardened Alistair is more assertive and more willing to stand up for himself.

But is that the reality that we see reflected in hardened Alistair’s choices?

Pre-hardening, Alistair tells you many times that he feels like no one cares what he wants; he believes it’s unfair and openly complains about it. Hardened Alistair, however, knows that no one cares what he wants and he accepts that as the way things are and must be. Unhardened Alistair will freely say he doesn’t want to be king and fights against it until he can fight it no more, while hardened Alistair will accept it, even going as far as to say he wants it.

Why would he change so suddenly from saying it’s his worst nightmare to saying he wants it? Does he mean it fully? Is this truly him seeking to fulfill his own wants and meet his own needs?

What actually changes if he’s hardened?

he is seemingly less reluctant about becoming king

if romanced, he will agree to a threesome with Isabela

he will agree to make you his mistress if you push the topic

if not married to Anora and chosen to fight Loghain, he will execute Loghain and take the throne

if not chosen to fight Loghain, he will insist on being made king

if married to Anora, he will become king instead of being exiled if Loghain is spared (Alistair will still leave your party, however)

he will approve of executing Jowan in Redcliffe

With the idea of “hardened Alistair putting his own wants/needs first” in mind let’s break them down one by one:

Note: some lines of dialogue have flags for “hardened”/“changed”, alternatively referred to as Alistair’s motivation being changed from “good to glory” or “Alistair 2”. These all refer to the hardening mechanic. The screenshots do have text that’s a bit small, because I wanted to be sure that I included the flags that show when lines are exclusive to hardened Alistair.

Less reluctance about becoming king

All along he’s said he doesn’t want it. You could potentially make a case that he didn’t truly feel that way and was only saying it because he’s insecure (which he is), but I don’t find this to be a terribly compelling argument. 

This is hardened Alistair’s response to being told he would be a good king after he’s decided to sacrifice himself. There are several lines like this that I feel contradict the theory that unhardened Alistair only says he doesn’t want to be king because he’s insecure in his abilities. It’s not that his insecurities are not a factor, it’s that hardening him doesn’t get rid of those things, meaning that this factor alone would not change his attitude about accepting potential kingship. In fact, he still believes that realistically Anora is better suited.

I’d argue that someone who has consistently said one thing without fail and is now only changing the tune after basically being told to shut up and grow up may not be expressing their truest desires. He is going along with what Eamon is telling him, with what the Warden is telling him, with what he’s told is his duty and responsibility. For the greater good, not for himself.

And you might be saying that can’t be true, hardened Alistair says he wants to be king!

Personally, I’d argue that Alistair saying he wants to be king is much the same as your average person saying they want a job. Do most people want to go to work every day? No, not really, but you have to because it’s just what you need to do. So when asked, you’d say you want a job. Of course you would, because you have to have one. But removed from that necessity, would you still say the same? Likely not. I believe the same holds true for Alistair. If he wasn’t being told at every turn that him being king is what must be done, he wouldn’t feel a need to bow to that.

Hardened Alistair confidently wanting to be king is often accepted as plain fact, when it’s really not so cut and dry. We can dig into some of his dialogue and really look at his feelings on the matter.

Hardened Alistair is saying he wants to be king. Even he’s surprised by it. But what is the context of this line? He’s about to sacrifice himself. He believes that his sacrifice–not living to rule–is the single best thing he can do as king.

But is it pure happiness and willingness, or is it a man simply trying to make the best of a situation he’s locked into? I vote for the latter.

I often see the argument that having a Warden queen would make him happier with the idea of being king, but by all evidence it really doesn’t seem to be the case. Here is his response to the Warden confirming that she does want to be queen. Alistair still doesn’t like the idea of ruling. This isn’t a line exclusive to hardened Alistair, he will always have this line available.

“I wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for you” … “you owe me” … Even hardened, Alistair seems to see being king as something negative being thrust upon him. A punishment, perhaps? What would his response be to being told that being king is not a punishment?

On the surface, he agrees, but take a look at that VO comment for his actual feelings on it. He does consider it a punishment. This is indeed a line for hardened Alistair, as it occurs during the mistress conversation, which is a hardened Alistair exclusive.

Even if hardened, Alistair would prefer to stay a Warden if he can.

And if you don’t make hardened Alistair king? He’s grateful. Happy. Happier.

Agreeing to a threesome

Unhardened or hardened, he will push back when you suggest this. However, only hardened Alistair will relent and agree to it. Unhardened Alistair will simply refuse. Which one sounds more like someone standing up for his own wants?

This is the path the conversation goes if Alistair is hardened. His initial refusal and discomfort with the situation remains, but if you tell him to go along, he will.

He is, regardless, clearly not as comfortable with the situation as one should be. It certainly isn’t the kind of enthusiastic consent one would look for when asking someone to engage in a particular sex act. But he had fun, so it’s okay, right?

Well… did he have fun? Isabela jokes about borrowing him in the future and it seems quite clear that he isn’t interested in a repeat occurrence. Not only is he not interested, he’s awkward, uncomfortable. “Oh, but he makes a joke about wet frocks right after this!” He does. But it’s Alistair. He’s constantly making jokes to mask his discomfort.

Agreeing to making the Warden his mistress

Again, he will push back on this at first, only relenting if he’s hardened and you push the issue. If unhardened, he’ll stand by his original statement that he feels it would be wrong. Is he just saying he believes it’s wrong, or is that what he truly believes? Based on what we know of Alistair, I’d say it’s far more likely that he truly does find the idea of making the Warden his mistress to be disrespectful both to the Warden and to his wife, and that he is somewhat disregarding his own beliefs on that to bend to the Warden’s insistence that he take a mistress.

Whether he’s marrying Anora or not, his views on the matter are the same. He intends to be loyal to whoever he marries, and he knows he cannot do so if he continues the relationship with the Warden.

It’s clear that he finds the entire idea distasteful.

Much like the threesome, you do have to press him to get him to agree. He’s quite set in his beliefs on the matter, but he will acquiesce if the Warden pushes it.

Insisting on becoming king in the context of dealing with Loghain

These are the choices where I’d say there is potentially a case to be made that Alistair is making the decision he wants to make. However, I wouldn’t say that the decision being made is that he wants to be king. I would argue that becoming king is simply a means to an end to give him the power to get revenge in the way he wants.

In the first potential scenario here, Alistair will insist on being made king if he is not chosen to fight Loghain. Why? He wants Loghain dead, and he isn’t being given the choice to make that happen. He wants the power to make that choice, all else be damned.

Here you can see that hardened Alistair insists on taking the throne while making it abundantly clear that the reason for doing so is to take care of Loghain in the manner he wants.

Unhardened Alistair does the same. Why? Because the motivation remains the same whether he’s hardened or not. Unhardened Alistair simply hasn’t become so resigned as to pretend he’s any less displeased with it than he is.

In the second potential scenario, Alistair is chosen to fight Loghain and kills him. He finally achieves the goal he’s been working towards all along: getting his revenge on Loghain. He’s running on that high when Eamon immediately suggests he take the throne, he says yes, he’ll do it. There’s not really anything to break down dialogue-wise in this scenario, as his acceptance of the throne is the exact same dialogue as it would be in any other case. He simply says he accepts when it’s proposed.

Is it what he truly wants? Maybe. You could make a case for it. However, I interpret it more as running on that adrenaline high, feeling powerful and not fully thinking it over in the moment.

Accepting being king & marrying Anora if Loghain is spared

Alistair has been tunnel visioned on getting his revenge on Loghain the entire time, and this is the only circumstance in which sparing Loghain will not result in Alistair leaving and becoming a drunk. He both accepts marrying Anora (which he isn’t happy about) and sparing Loghain (which is very counter to his wishes).

He doesn’t like Anora and doesn’t want to marry her, but he does anyway. Hardened Alistair knows that marrying Anora is politically advantageous and prioritizes that over his personal desire to enact his vengeance, though he makes it clear to the Warden that his personal feelings on the matter have absolutely not changed.

Hardened Alistair goes along with marrying Anora after Loghain is spared and leaves the party, unhappy with the Warden’s choice to spare Loghain. If this line alone didn’t make his displeasure clear enough, there’s also this one:

He refers to the Warden’s actions as a betrayal. He’s obviously not happy.

Unhardened Alistair, however, stands his ground and refuses.

Approving of executing Jowan

Another case of a changed tune to go along with what the Warden is doing. Unhardened Alistair actively disapproves of the Warden executing Jowan. We could assume that hardened Alistair is just more pragmatic, or perhaps simply more willing to accept it when the Warden tells him this is what must be done.

There is no Alistair specific dialogue to look at here, just the approval points, so it’s really just a matter of looking at what we know of him and the situation. I would say in general Alistair values life and values mercy. Are there exceptions? Yes. Loghain, for example, whose crimes Alistair has judged worthy of death. Clearly unhardened Alistair does not feel that way about Jowan. Hardened Alistair though? He approves of his execution, but is it because he personally thinks it’s best or is it because he accepts the Warden’s judgment?

I would argue that it’s the latter primarily because it’s completely in line with everything else we’ve seen from hardened Alistair. There really are just no solid cases of hardened Alistair asserting his own will when compared to unhardened Alistair, so I don’t see this case as being any different.

In Review

In each case of behaviors changed by hardening Alistair, we see him putting his own wants and needs on the backburner in favor of an externally imposed sense of duty or to bend to another’s will because he accepts that his personal feelings are irrelevant. I’d go as far as to say that hardening is really a misnomer, because what we’re really looking at would be better called resignation.

I actually didn’t include every single line I found of hardened Alistair expressing the sentiments I’ve laid out in this analysis because I didn’t want it to be too long, but there is more in the game. Now I will get into less concrete analysis and a bit more of an explanation of my own personal opinions on hardening.

Aside from looking at what hardening actually means for Alistair, we can also question its necessity. Do you need to do it if you want to do certain things in Origins (threesome, mistress ending, etc.)? Yes. But I often see people argue that hardening Alistair is necessary for him to grow or mature as a person, and I completely disagree.

My personal opinion is that hardening Alistair is neither necessary nor kind.

In terms of helping Alistair to grow as a person, I maintain that Alistair will become more naturally “hardened”, or more accurately, he will mature on his own if you give him the chance to do so. Why do I say so? Look at Alistair in Inquisition. That is not the same idealistic young man we see in Origins, and this remains true regardless of hardening status. Whether it’s Warden Alistair or King Alistair, he’s clearly grown and changed.

Sure, you can mod the game to make the hardening dialogue more palatable, but that’s an entirely different discussion. As is, you’re required to essentially kick him when he’s down, and I simply do not find it to be necessary for his own personal development.

If it’s not already completely obvious by me doing all of this in the first place, I really, really love Alistair. Of course I’m quite settled and happy as an unhardened Warden Alistair truther, but I’m always happy to discuss and debate. I’m very interested in any thoughts you might have, whether you agree with my assessment or not (as long as you’re nice).

Thank you for reading my (almost sickeningly thorough) little analysis if you made it this far!

As a treat (or unhardened Warden Ali propaganda depending on your perspective), here's my Warden, miss Neria Surana with her very happy unhardened Warden husband:

[babejinxy]

In love with you - part 6

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

Powder was taking her time with you, kissing every part of your body, every little bit of skin, nothing went unnoticed by her lips. “I’ve always wanted you so much babe, sorry if I can’t keep my hands and lips away from you”, she said giving you a peck on the lips. You smiled before saying, “I’m not complaining…”, you lifted your head a little when she went back to kissing your chin and then your neck. “… I’m loving this, but don’t you think it’s your turn now, huh?”, you said still smiling, her breath on your neck tickling your skin.

She let go of your neck just to look at you, “Ok but first, I want to try something,” she said cringing a little, was she getting embarrassed after all?” Alright and what would that thing be?”, you asked, unable to contain your anxiety. Powder brought her face even closer to yours and said, looking into your eyes, “I want to eat you while you ride my face”. For a moment you didn’t know how to react, this was something new for you, as well as for her. You both knew this because of a conversation about sex you once shared and Powder had been thinking about what it would be like to eat you like this ever since, it had driven her crazy for months. Before you could answer anything, she said eagerly, “Please baby, I really want to have you like this… but no pressure, only if you want it too of course.”

Powder was so cute begging you that it was impossible to deny her. Of course you wanted it as much as she did, but the sparkle in her eyes only encouraged you even more. Instead of answering with words, you smiled at her, biting your lower lip and placing your hands on either side of her collarbone and forcing yourself to change positions, getting on top of her. She took your answer as a yes and bit her lower lip. You placed your right leg between hers and pressed your knee into her pussy, still covered by her panties. She bit her lower lip harder and let a soft moan escape her throat.

“I think your panties are ruined, love,” you teased her back to you earlier. But Powder didn’t care and clicked her tongue, “it’s not the first time I’ve wet my panties around you baby, it’s been countless times, I should be ashamed, but you’ve always turned me on… you need to know that when I say I’ve always wanted you badly I’m not kidding… now sit on my face.” Powder’s husky and authoritative voice made you melt like butter, you loved being dominated like this and you couldn’t resist it, your friend knew that and was using it to her advantage, it was a little mean of her, but you loved it.

You bit your lower lip and moved up to her face. Powder, who had her hands on your sides, dragged them down to your bare ass and squeezed a little, making you gasp. You placed your knees on either side of Powder's head and she placed her hands on each of your thighs and spread them, having the perfect view of your swollen pussy right in front of her eyes and that view hit her right in the pussy making it ache with desire. You held the back of the couch with your right hand while resting the other on the arm of the couch, Powder held your waist and adjusted you on top of her, aligning your pussy with her mouth. Her hot breath and breathing hit your bare pussy and made you feel shivers all over your body.

Powder closed her eyes and trailed kisses and bites along the inside of your thighs where her lips reached and kept this up for a few torturous minutes. Your pussy was aching from clenching around nothing and you felt like you were going to go crazy, you needed her mouth on your needy cunt. “You’re warm and soft, do you know that?” she whispered against the skin of your thigh and you shivered and gasped when the tip of her nose brushed against your groin and Powder smiled at your reaction. She pulled you down and you crushed her face beneath you. She pressed a kiss to your wet folds making you squirm a little and you bit your bottom lip.

You moaned loudly as Powder licked your pussy from bottom to top, lingering a little longer on your sensitive clit, sucking it deliciously. “Oh P-Powder,” you moaned, closing your eyes and throwing your head back. Powder tightened her hands on your waist and guided you to ride her face as she ate your pussy with her mouth wide open, her tongue teasing your hole and moving up to lick and suck your clit. The sounds of your moans and sighs mixed with the sounds of her lips sucking on your wet pussy and echoed throughout every corner of Powder's workshop.

Powder licked and swirled her tongue around your bud frantically making you moan even more and roll your eyes back in your head. She swirled her tongue around your clit once more and sucked it between her lips slowly, you looked down and opened your mouth in an “o” shape before throwing your head back again moaning loudly when she did it again. She left your clit only to stick her tongue inside your hole and you choked out a moan at her sudden act.

Now Powder was tongue fucking you as she pulled your hips incredibly closer to her face, her tongue deep in your pussy as she fucked you like this. She stiffened the muscle and pulled it out and thrust it back into you fast and steady and it made you see stars. You started bouncing on her tongue to get more friction and the sounds coming from your pussy were sinful and your moans were uncontrolled. Powder moved her right hand up to your right breast and she groped and squeezed it while still fucking you with her tongue. You gripped the back of the couch tightly and pulled her hair a little from her scalp with your left hand and she moaned a muffled moan between your pussy.

Powder was fucking you so well with her tongue that it was getting hard for you to stay on your knees, you were running out of strength and your body was going soft like jelly, the familiar knot started to tighten in your stomach and you lost your balance, falling forward with a groan, causing your pussy to pull away from Powder's mouth. She immediately grabbed your hips and readjusted you to your previous position, going back to fucking her tongue into your slippery hole. You moaned and grabbed the arm of the couch with both hands, while throwing your head back.

Powder knew you were close to cumming when your walls clamped down on her tongue and it became hard to move it inside your pussy. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably and you began to moan tearful groans as you felt your orgasm coming on strong once again. The blue haired girl grabbed your waist and lifted you up a bit only to bring you back down onto her tongue - which went straight into your sensitive hole - and she guided you like that a few times, “Gosh Powder,” you whimpered in a moan. She held you against her mouth again, holding you firmly at the waist so you wouldn't fall, and fucked her tongue inside your pussy a few more times.

You came hard right into her mouth as you moaned above her. Powder pulled her tongue out of you and drank the cum that dripped from your hole as if she were eating a delicious ice cream - which for her it was. She drank every last drop of your cream and only stopped when you started spasming and whimpering too much from the overstimulation.

“You were so good to me, my sweet girl,” Powder said, kissing the inside of your thigh and helping you get off her face. You fell next to her on the couch, since the space was small you threw your left leg on top of hers and she intertwined it between them. “That was…”, you said with a breathless breath. “Yeah, I know baby,” she replied also breathless. You both stared at the ceiling as you caught your breath, you looked at her to ask, “Have you really never done this before?” She turned her face to look at you, “I’ve never wanted any other girl to ride my face,” she said cringing and a light blush left her cheeks red.

You smiled at her cuteness, lifted your torso, resting your right arm on the arm of the couch, and massaged her belly with your left hand. Your torso was above hers and your breasts were crushed against hers. You took your hand off her belly and wiped the remains of your cum from her mouth and chin with your hand. Powder looked at you as if you were a rare jewel, like a dream that had finally come true. You smiled at each other and you kissed her on the lips. This time the kiss was slow and passionate, Powder didn't fight for dominance and your tongues danced together in perfect harmony. You lowered your left hand to her left breast and massaged it, making her gasp between your lips.

You pulled her lower lip between your teeth and she squeezed your hips in response. You lowered your head to her neck and began to place kisses and bites all over her neck while still groping her breast. “Baby, I’m going to have to make you cum again if you keep this up,” she said between sighs. “None of that, now it’s your turn love,” you said, sucking on the skin below her ear, making her gasp and pull your waist down hard so she could lay you down and reverse your positions, but you didn’t let up this time.

Powder was very restricted with touches, she usually preferred to give rather than receive, but you were the girl who was in her “bed” now and she wanted you in every way possible. You moved your kisses down to her right breast and closed your lips around her nipple, swirling your tongue around it and sucking it between your teeth. Powder bit her lower lip hard and moved her hands from your waist down to your ass where she groped your buttocks and squeezed them and you whimpered into her breast.

“Y/n… I wanna kiss you,” she said softly. You let go of her breast and a string of saliva connected your lips to her nipple, you brought your lips closer to hers and she immediately slammed them against yours pushing her tongue inside your mouth. You were lying on your side next to her on the mattress, your torso was on top of hers and you had your left leg intertwined with hers. You untangled your leg from hers and she spread them on the couch, you placed your left leg - which was previously between hers - over her knee to keep her leg open.

You slid your hand from her breast down the length of her body until you reached the inside of her thigh near her groin and she gasped into your lips, biting your lower lip, making you gasp too. You pushed her panties aside and she sighed deeply when she finally felt free of the sticky fabric. You slipped your fingers into her wet folds and massaged her pussy making her sigh into your lips. You swirled your fingers around her swollen bud slowly and she bit your bottom lip again, this time a little too hard to keep from moaning and you felt the sting and pulled back, letting go of her lips. “S-sorry love,” she said between sighs.

You sped up the movement of your fingers on her clit, rubbing it and tapping it lightly while Powder let out low moans from time to time. Powder raised her torso a little to reach your neck, where she abused your skin a little so she wouldn't moan so much. She bit, kissed and sucked the skin on your neck while you abused her clitoris with your quick fingers and you moaned from time to time when she pulled your skin too hard with her lips and teeth. Unlike her, you were more of a crybaby and the moans that escaped you hit her pussy directly and mixed with the pleasure you were giving her and that only made her hornier.

You kissed her lips and she laid her head back on the pillow as she grabbed your hips. You moved your fingers down from her clit to her hole and slowly inserted your middle finger inside her with ease. You began to slowly move your finger in and out of her hole and she moaned softly. Little by little you inserted a second finger and increased the speed of the movements, rolling them inside her and hitting the right spot, making Powder moan a little louder than she would have liked. You hid your face in her neck and began to leave kisses and light bites on her skin.

Powder moved her hands from your hips to your ass and squeezed your cheeks in response to the movements of your fingers and when you hit the spongy spot inside her again, she arched her hips and bit her bottom lip hard. She slid her hand from your ass and ran her fingers over your swollen, wet pussy and you moaned into her neck increasing the pace of your fingers in her pussy.

You realized that Powder was close to cumming when she started to squeeze your fingers and couldn't help but moan loudly. You had in mind to make her cum on your tongue, just like she did with you. So you pulled your fingers out of her and she whimpered at the lack of them in her pussy. You looked at her and smiled before taking your two fingers in your mouth and licking them, tasting the sweet taste of her. This caused some reaction in Powder by the way her blue eyes sparkled, “ok, that’s enough,” she said pushing your torso down and getting on top of you.

“Hey, I wasn’t done,” you complained and tried to change positions, but Powder held your hips firmly, preventing you from moving. “I know baby, but this isn’t how I want to cum,” she said, letting go of you only to take off her panties. Once again you couldn't help but feel dominated and immediately you felt a burning sensation between your legs and bit your lower lip waiting for Powder's next move. She lay on top of you and caressed both sides of your face with her thumbs, she had a sweet smile on her lips. “I wanna have sex with you love, do you understand?”, she whispered in her husky voice and gave you a peck on the lips.

You smiled, making her smile too, and she kissed the corner of your stretched lip. “What are you waiting for? You have my heart and my consent, forever,” you whispered. Powder's eyes shone even bluer and she smiled before getting off of you and lifting your left leg to her waist, then she adjusted herself between your legs making her pussy rub against yours and you both moaned together. Powder lowered her torso and laid her arms on either side of you on the couch and held your shoulders from behind to gain momentum. You lifted your leg a little higher on her waist and wrapped your arms around her neck.

Before she started moving, she gave you a quick peck on the lips and looked at the red mark of her teeth on your lower lip where she bit too hard earlier, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Powder was anxious and had a habit of brooding over things, you knew that and you didn’t want her to feel bad just because of that. “It’s okay baby,” you interrupted her and sealed your lips on hers. Then Powder made her first move and her pussy spread deliciously over yours. She slid her pussy against yours in a slow and perfect rhythm, making you moan sweetly and softly between the kiss.

Powder put a little more pressure and accelerated the pace of her hips rubbing her pussy against yours and you opened your mouth breathing heavily just like Powder, her lips brushed against yours with her movements pushing you. She alternated between thrusting and rotating her pussy against yours in a fast and precise rhythm, the friction was perfect and made your clitorises kiss, eliciting moans from both of you.

The blue-haired girl brought her hands to either side of your waist and held you firmly beneath her and sped up the movements of her hips once more. She buried her face in the crook of your neck and kissed your skin hard, biting every now and then. You grabbed her shoulders and squeezed them as you moaned. Powder's breathing on your neck was erratic and panting and sometimes she would let out restrained moans and this only drove you further and further over the edge.

Powder lifted her face and looked at you and the two of you exchanged passionate smiles. You brought your right hand to her face and caressed her reddened cheek with your thumb. She lowered her head to kiss you, but it was hard to keep the kiss with her thrusts pushing you and with the panting breaths of both of you. You raised your back a little and held on to the couch with your right hand while you had your other arm around Powder's neck. Your face was close to hers and your panting breaths tickled each other's skin. You tilted your head back and Powder took the opportunity to kiss your chin and jaw. You fell back onto the couch as you groaned, you couldn't hold it in much longer.

Powder took her left hand off your waist and intertwined her fingers with your right hand's fingers and put a little more strength and agility into the friction, making you moan loudly and a noise came out of her throat as she bit her lip.

Your skins stuck together because of the sweat from your bodies and the wet sounds of skin against skin coming from your pussies together were sinful and echoed throughout the workshop, mixing with your moans and her panting breath in your ear. Powder's clit rubbed against yours frantically and you felt the knot in your stomach tighten for the thousandth time that night. “Oh my god… I.. I’m gonna cum”, you whispered with a broken voice. “Me too baby”. Powder squeezed her fingers in yours and this time it was hard to contain the moans so she let them come out and mix with yours like a melody.

Your legs began to tremble beneath Powder and if it weren't for her weight on top of you, you would be writhing right now. Powder's legs also began to give out, but she held her ground and continued to grind her pussy against yours. Three more thrusts of her pussy into yours and you let out a high-pitched moan and everything around you went white, you came for the third time that night and you had never had orgasms this intense. Powder came right after you when her felt your hot cum dripping from your hole and spreading between your pussies. Now your pussies were sticky with your juices mixed with hers and strings of cum connected your pussies when Powder stopped her thrusts and got off of you falling next to you on the couch.

The two of you were silent for a few minutes as you recovered from your orgasm and calmed your breathing, catching your breath. Your fingers were still intertwined with hers and neither of you had any intention of untying them so you remained like that.

“Hey,” Powder was the first to speak. You turned your face to her and she was already looking at you. “Hey,” you smiled an affectionate smile and she lifted your hands that were joined together and kissed the back of your hand. “What are you thinking about?” she asked, worried that she might have done something wrong. “I’m not thinking about anything, I just… I’m just calm…” you said as you played with her fingers on yours, “…I’m calm in this feeling Pow Pow.” Powder smiled and looked at your lips, bringing her head closer to yours and sealing her lips on yours, in a calm and affectionate kiss.

“What are we now?”, Powder asked, massaging your belly with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with yours. You twisted your lips as if you were thinking, “hm… we’re still best friends I guess, but something more than that too”, you answered smiling and laughing a little. Powder smiled and her eyes were shining, “I wouldn’t let you go for anything in this world girl”, then she once again kissed your lips.

You stayed like that for a few more minutes until you started to feel sleepy. Powder pulled a sheet over the two of you and you settled down on the couch. She reached over and turned off the lights in the workshop, leaving only the blue light from the star projector that formed constellations and illuminated the ceiling, one of Powder's inventions. You were looking at the constellations above you when you heard Powder's hoarse voice talking to you, "I'm so happy... I've never felt like this before, I'm exactly where I wanted to be." You turned your face to her and she was looking up, you didn't say anything. You just smiled and laid your head on her chest and fell asleep. Powder closed her arm around your neck and fell asleep in a peaceful and happy sleep.

Guys, this was supposed to be the last part of this series, but I've been thinking about something that would be cool to continue this... I won't give any spoilers, but I'll let you decide.

Do you want me to continue writing for this series or should I stop here?

[nanenna]

Warning: Implied bodily mutilation.

Okay, so remember how this prompt started and why Danny's dissociating hard enough he's in the next universe over? Kon gets a sudden, visceral reminder. UwU (Nothing graphic, all implied. This time)

-----

It was nice having all of Just Us together again, even if it was only for a pre-mission information gathering meeting. After contacting Wonder Woman about it this was now official League business, specifically JLD business. So here he, Tim, Cassie, and Bart were, sitting in one of the meeting rooms on the Watchtower across the table from Wonder Woman and John Constantine. Tim had a presentation all ready to go, including Danny’s drawings and one blurry photo he somehow managed to get of the boy, as he explained everything they knew so far.

“It does seem this boy is from an alternate universe,” Diana agreed as she looked at the star chart Danny had drawn compared to their own. It seemed about half the stars Danny had drawn were a match.

“And even if not, I can’t help search for him with this,” Tim said.

Diana looked over to Constantine.

“I would need to get a read on him, preferably after I get some supplies and get everything set up.”

Kon sighed, “I’ll talk to Ma and Pa. Promise you won’t do any damage to the house.”

Constantine held his hands up, “I’ll clean up after myself.”

“I’ll put together a rescue team,” Diana said.

Kon and his friends all frowned, “We’re already a team.”

“Kon will need to go since Danny already knows him,” Cassie pointed out. “And since we’re already a team we work best with each other.”

Diana nodded, “Alright, I and John will come with you as back up and to make sure we can make it home. We’ll make arrangements to get his supplies, in the mean time I think it’s best you start introducing Danny to others. Ma and Pa at the least.”

Kon nodded, “Sure, I can do that.” He stood up, since it sounded like the meeting was over.

“Before you lot go running off,” Constantine interrupted, “just wanna say not everything from Earth is human.”

Kon sat back down.

“You mean like us?” Cassie asked with a confused frown.

“Yes and no. There’s Amazons and Atlanteans, sure. But there’s also the Tuatha Dé Danann, Hulder, Vila, Kami, whatever you wanna call them.”

Kon had no idea what Constantine was talking about, he looked over to Tim. “The fair folk, or fairies. Like Morgaine le Fey.”

Kon nodded, he had some idea what Constantine meant now.

“Dream walking isn’t something many humans can do.”

Kon remembered something he hadn’t paid much attention to earlier. “Danny called me Nocturn, the Ancient of dreams. He thinks this is all a dream, I don’t think he even knows he’s astral projecting.”

“Right, so he could be fae and knows it, he could be fae and not know it, or he could be a human who managed to make friends with something that sounds like a fae lord. And depending on what it is it changes the rules of hospitality, so be careful about that.”

Tim sighed, “I’ll give them all the fae crash course.”

“The Bat is surprisingly correct and thorough on that.” Constantine sighed, then looked towards Kon. “Look, mate, I know you won’t like this but it might be best to let him think he’s still dreaming for now, just until we get him out of whatever situation is so bad it has him dissociating into the next universe.”

He was right, Kon didn’t like it.

✧✦✧

It had only been a day, Kon wasn’t expecting to see Danny again so soon. At first there had been a whole week between the first and second sighting, but they had been getting closer and closer together over the last couple weeks. Kon wasn’t sure if that meant he just didn’t always run into Danny or if he was actually astral projecting more often. But he hadn’t seen Danny two days in a row yet.

Except now he had.

Kon had finished explaining the whole situation to Ma and Pa, had helped them pick out which room in the big old farmhouse they would let Constantine borrow, and promised to introduce them to Danny the next he saw him. He’d previously told them about him so they could keep an eye out for him, but it seemed they hadn’t seen him yet. Kon was just heading out to the barn for evening chores when he saw a misty figure out in one of the fields. Kon had almost missed them, due to how misty the fields were with rain coming down, but he stopped and squinted and yeah, that was Danny.

“Hello,” Kon greeted as he approached.

Danny didn’t look over, keeping his face turned up and eyes closed. “I can almost feel it.” The rain was going right through him, leaving misty trails in his translucent body.

“At least you don’t have to worry about getting wet.”

“I miss it.”

That’s it, just miss it, not even a comment about how he wants to go stand in the rain when he’s awake.

“Would you like to come inside? Meet my Ma and Pa? I’ve told them about you.”

Danny did blink, looking over at Kon owlishly with his haunting green eyes. “I suppose I have been too lonely.” Danny lifted off the ground and drifted towards Kon, who also lifted into the air and started leading Danny towards the farmhouse.

“I’m not Nocturn.”

Danny looked over with one of his indulgent smiles.

“I mean it,” Kon said quickly. “I don’t want you to think I lied and said I was him when I’m not.” He may need to let Danny think he’s still dreaming, which technically he’s not wrong about, but Kon wasn’t going to try to pretend to be someone he’s never even heard of.

“If you say so.”

Kon sighed, he’d tried. They arrived at the house then, Kon carefully wiped off his shoes before going in. Danny didn’t have a lower half to bother with. “Ma, Pa, I have a guest.”

“Oh, is it one of your friends or did Diana and John finish their shopping trip already?” Ma asked as she walked into the room. When she spotted Danny she stopped and looked at him for a moment before smiling brightly. “You must be Danny, Conner’s been telling us about you.”

Danny looked up at Kon, “Conner?”

Kon shrugged, “Earth name.”

Danny just nodded, then turned back to Ma. “I am Danny, it’s nice to meet you.” He held a hand out, the arm attaching it to his body barely there.

Pa came in just as Danny introduced himself, then he gave the boy a hearty handshake.

“Well, can you eat?” Ma asked.

Danny shrugged and looked to Kon, who also shrugged. Danny turned back to Ma, “I can smell.”

Her mouth rolled into a thin line, “Well how about I make you a cup of hot cider and we can see how that goes.”

“Sure.” Danny followed Ma into the kitchen. He managed to pull out the chair himself to sit in it, legs still missing and hands barely a suggestion as they were folded in front of him on the table.

Ma set about pouring some of the cider they had into a pot to heat up. While that was going, she bustled around the kitchen gathering enough mugs for everyone.

Pa sat across from Danny at the table while Kon stood to the side, just watching her until she poured the steaming cider into the mugs. Kon picked up two of them and handed one off to Danny, while Ma gave Pa his.

“Thank you,” Danny said to both Kon and Ma when the mug was placed in front of him.

Interesting, according to Tim fairies were allergic to saying thank you. So either Danny was raised human and didn’t know he was a fairy, or he was a human and this was all Nocturn.

Danny closed his eyes and seemed to savor the long sniff he took of the mug he’d pulled closer to himself. “It smells so good.”

“Thank you,” Ma said proudly, taking a sip for herself.

Danny leaned forward and carefully picked up the mug, tipping it to take a sip. Cider splattered on the table. Danny frowned down at it.

Kon quickly picked up one of the kitchen towels and wiped the spill up. “That’s a bummer.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can make myself solid enough. It’s so weird, normally I have to try to not be solid.”

“Well I’m sorry you can’t eat,” Ma said with a sigh.

“It still smells really good.” Danny settled the mug in his hands to be cradled just under his nose.

No one seemed sure what to say to that. It was Pa that tried to change the subject. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself, Danny?”

“I’d rather not.”

Kon couldn’t help wincing, even said in Danny’s soft, dreamy voice that was a bit harsh.

Pa recovered, “Alright then, how about we tell you about the farm? It’s been a real nice year so far. The animals and crops are doing well.”

“It’s been easier since Conner’s been actually staying instead of just visiting,” Ma added.

“What?” Kon asked.

Ma tittered, “Since Danny showed up you’ve been staying the whole time instead of just visiting.”

“I visit every day!”

“You do,” Ma agreed with a wide smile. “Don’t change that it’s been lonely since Clark and Lois moved back to Metropolis, took little Jon with them.”

“They visit a lot too!”

“That they do,” Pa agreed. He gave Danny an exaggerated wink, “We’re real lucky our boys can make the time to come visit us so often.”

Danny smiled gently at Pa, “It does sound-”

Danny’s mug clattered to the table, spilling cider across it and splashing some on the floor. Kon moved to start cleaning it up when he realized why Danny’s mug had fallen.

Danny’s right arm was missing.

Danny looked down at it with his usual passive expression, “Oh, so that’s what that feeling was.”

“What?” Kon asked blankly.

“They’re gonna run outta limbs eventually.”

Kon looked over to Ma, who had her hands pressed over her mouth, and Pa, who was frozen half standing. Then he looked back to Danny, who was still frowning at his shoulder. “W-what?”

Danny looked passively up at Kon. “You already know what’s going on, it’s why you made this waking dream for me after all.”

Kon stared at the arm that wasn’t there, not even a misty hint.

Danny sighed and closed his eyes, a nearly invisible arm and hand reappeared and quickly became as solid (half at best) as the other hand. He picked up his fallen mug.

Kon thought about how Danny’s arms only seemed to be there half the time. He thought about how Danny’s legs almost never seemed to be there. Kon thought about how he wasn’t entirely sure what Danny’s face looked like besides his brightly glowing eyes.

Ma was already sopping up the cider with a kitchen towel, Pa was at the linen closet grabbing bigger towel. Kon was outside, crouched over in a squat with his fingers laced and pressing against the back of his neck. He heard Ma distantly shout for Clark, but he was too busy trying to get his breathing back under control to notice.

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Research Process

Research is an essential process to keep yourself informed on any topic with reliable sources of information.

Research - the process by which you gather reliable information on a specific topic, typically to answer a particular question, form an opinion, or make a decision.

Academics often separate research into 2 distinct types:

primary research (in which the researcher acquires firsthand experience with the topic) and

secondary research (in which the researcher looks at research others have done on the topic).

There are many different research methods, including:

internet research (using search engines, webpages, and other online resources),

scientific research (using the scientific method to test hypotheses),

local and university library research (using books, encyclopedias, newspaper articles, peer-reviewed journal articles, catalogs, and academic databases and directories), and

interviews (using questionnaires and discussions with subjects).

How to Research

The research process can apply to everything from a scientific research paper to a personal question; each type of research has different expectations and processes. In general, here’s a step-by-step tutorial:

Start with a question. The first step of the research process is to have a question. In the case of academic research, your research question might be on a broad conversation in your field. For example, in humanities, a research question might be: “How did feminism affect American literature in the 1970s?” In the case of personal research, your question might be smaller and more specific: “How do I wake up feeling more rested?” If your research is for a high school or college paper, you might need to brainstorm to come up with a question or move on to the research phase to see what kinds of questions and broad topics interest you.

Search broadly. Your preliminary research on a topic is likely to be general—this search strategy enables you to gather as much general information surrounding the topic as possible. This helps you develop a clearer sense of the scope of your question. In the case of academic research, you might read widely (in topics like feminism, the 1970s, and American literature). In the case of personal research, you might conduct general internet searches for secondary sources that discuss related topics (like alarm clocks, pillows, and meditation techniques).

Narrow your focus. As you conduct research, pay attention to the moments that pique your interest—use them to determine where to conduct more in-depth research. Perhaps a specific novelist seems especially interesting, or you find yourself more drawn to alarm clocks than memory-foam pillows. It is at this stage you should also take time to evaluate the information sources you’ve found to make sure they’re reliable and unbiased.

Conduct specific research. Once your question begins to narrow, you might need to do additional research to hone in on your particular topic. Look around to see if other researchers have had similar questions and published or posted their findings. Alternatively, you might do some primary research and begin testing particular hypotheses. For an academic research paper, it is at this stage you likely have enough information to begin crafting your thesis statement or central claim.

Complete the project. The final stage of the research process is to complete your research project—this might mean writing a final paper, forming a particular opinion, or purchasing a specific solution for your problem. For research that involves writing and publishing a paper, the researcher must also abide by rules of plagiarism, citation information and formats—such as the Modern Language Association (MLA), American Psychological Association (APA), Chicago, and so forth. Even though this is the final step of the research process, it doesn’t mean the project is closed forever—you might find later you need or want to do follow-up research as the topic or your interests change.

Research is a vital process that increases your knowledge and understanding around a topic, rather than forcing you to rely on simply your own background information. Good research allows you to become more informed before you answer a question, to consider all angles before you form an opinion, and to use the experience of others before you make a decision.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[sungiescheotluv]

champagne supernova ⭑.ᐟ park jisung

pairing: park jisung x gender neutral reader

word count: 4.2k

tags/warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, emo(ish) jisung, non-idol au.

summary: making friends as an adult is difficult. luckily for you, the rock/alternative online community welcomes you with open arms, one person in particular catching your interest.

notes: hi thereee! 😁 back again with another jisung fic, one that i actually came up with myself lmao. since getting back into the dreamies, i've been a bit surprised by (but absolutely love) jisung's taste in music. hence this silly fic, which i do hope you enjoy! thank you so much for all your recent support, it makes my heart smile whenever you like or comment on a post! anyways, happy reading! much loveeeee! <3

The concept of internet safety is lost on you. How else could you explain sharing a hotel room with someone you’d never met before in real life? 

Perhaps, you should retrace your steps. See how you’ve managed to find yourself in such a dangerous position, the front door locked and your body pinned to the bed.

Making friends as an adult is difficult. On par with counting every grain of rice in a field, you’d say.

You underestimated how easy maintaining friendship was when younger, third places like school, daycares, extra-curricular activities demanding your presence, inadvertently strengthening your social life. Not that you were the most social, you had a hard time approaching people actually, but maybe that was a part of your charm. Bringing you out of your shell, like all your friends did before your bond was cemented in tree trunks or sandy beaches. University is the last place you take this ease for granted, exposed to all different kinds of people and relationships, some platonic and not-so much. Either way, despite the barge of assignments and countless nights out, you’d make it into adulthood relatively unscathed.

Adulthood, however, doesn’t turn out as you expect. You’d been sold a dream, one eight-year old you envisioned dabbling with the stars accompanied by a lavish life and all the ice-cream you could get your hands on. Unfortunately, no star would be rubbing shoulders with you anytime soon and any that would, you’d have to pay a large sum of money to even see. A large sum you did not have. So, yeah. Just that, toxic work culture, endless bills and a whole host of other obligations linger above your head like a grey cloud.

What helps is finding the small joys in life. Slow mornings when the city is asleep, the scent of coffee at the crack of dawn, the sunshine against your skin, friends who despite their busy schedules carve out time to see you. All pieces of your life that make it worth living. Music is in there too, the art of melodies and lyrics strung together having the strange ability to carry you throughout even your worst days.

Your moods refuse to stick to a certain genre and in the midst of dark afternoons and frost covered roads, you find yourself gravitating towards alternative music. Slow, steady and aching. Like how your life moves with the severe lack of sun. It’s not a genre your circle of friends dabble in as much as you do. It’s to be expected, anyone who deviates from a standard of ‘normalcy’ was outcasted, one too many examples found in your high school days where kids got called weird and satanic for wearing a Green Day t-shirt to school. The thought makes you laugh now, but back then, when all that matters is fitting in, it was sad and suffocating. Seeing a part of yourself denied before your very eyes. Sometimes you’d hang out with those kids, bond over your collection of CDs and even go to a few gigs together. However, when Monday came around and they’d approach you and your friends, raving about the concert - you froze. Confronted into either owning yourself and being outcasted like the rest of the emo kids or ignoring them, deny yourself for the sake of social standing. 

You pretend like they’ve grown two heads, feigned confusion knitting your eyebrows together while your friends laugh and hurl insults at someone who you considered a friend - a better one than the ones at your side. And yet, you let the laughter continue, a coward with its tail between its legs as you depart, the taste of iron on your tongue.

Maybe this is payback for those poor decisions. A dead-end job, a successful but shitting ex and enough inner turmoil to make a therapist clutch their pearls. 

You abandon those friends when you get to university, getting better ones that wouldn’t make someone feel small due to their own insecurities. You make amends with the emo kids, your apology marking the true end of your friendship. You search online spaces for like-minded people, showing up as yourself and being embraced as. Everyone in the Reddit community is unbelievably sweet, sharing their music recommendations, concert wishlists and pictures of their cats. Some members, including yourself, form a closer bond, taking your conversation to a Discord server that becomes your escape in a way. A channel for heartfelt discussion that extends past your love for music. You’re not as active due to work obligations, but whenever you pop up, one member in particular always greets you with a warmth like no other. 

Linkin.parkjisung is his user, his icon the rock and roll hand sign over his face. Likes Blur, Green Day, Oasis and of course, Linkin Park. He’s like you, dips in and out, types a few responses before he’s gone again. It’s a scenario where other members grow closer, and your anxiety around speaking in the group begins. They’re already close, it seems almost futile to interrupt, right? 

What if you’re ignored? What if you’ve missed your window of opportunity? 

It’s a line of thinking that crosses your mind when you send in an apology for being inactive, moments later your phone pinging with a notification.

Linkin.parkjisung: no need to apologize! life gets busy for everyone, myself included. hope you’re doing ok (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

Other group members echo his message, sending in their own real-life obligations that the group ends up bonding over, complaining of rising car insurance and overly demanding bosses. 

It’s the start of it all, really. That one message, a hand extended to yours that breaks you out of your shell and kick starts your friendship with Jisung. From that day onwards, you move more freely throughout the server, making good friends with everyone but better friends with Jisung. Somewhere down the line, you end up privately messaging each other. What starts out as simply giving each other music recommendations (since he apparently always loves the songs/artists you send into the server) becomes sneaking into the bathroom during a busy family reunion to call Jisung about how your grandmother wore a catsuit to impress her ex, your grandfather. You grow that close, no details spared on life events. How else is there space for secrecy when you’re video calling drunk, watching festival performances of Fontaines D.C.?

In any case, you’re close. You text everyday and call every week like clockwork, namely because you live some hours away from each other. During your calls, he’s shrouded in a low darkness, self conscious of the way he looks, he says. You’re unconvinced, slivers of his features in photos he sends you with his roommates’ three cats or on call saying otherwise. Regardless, you let it slide because Jisung becomes more than his face - he becomes a source of comfort, someone who makes you laugh as much as brings you calm, someone you slowly can’t imagine your days without. In hindsight, this is where your romantic feelings develop. And with convenient timing too because one of the bands you recommended to Jisung, Wunderhorse are on tour, set to perform in a city two hours from the both of you.

“Tickets are going onsale at 10 am on Thursday,” Jisung murmurs, the clicks of his cursor coming through your laptop speaker. “Remember to set your alarm.”

“Will do. Lemme set a remin-” opening up your calendar, you see an unwelcome surprise. “Fuck.”

“What’s up?” Jisung’s voice echoes with sincere concern.

“I forgot I have a shift that day,” you groan, already knowing by the time your lunch break came, the event would be sold out. “We’re understaffed as is, so there’s no way I can get someone to cover for me.”

A deep hum vibrates from Jisung’s chest, a few more clicks of his cursor sounding before he asks in a small voice. “Well, I could just get the tickets for us both.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, I’m meant to be working from home that day anyways. And not to flex, but my internet’s pretty decent.”

You laugh. “Is that for your job or your crippling gaming addiction?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles back, the sound blooming a warmth of happiness in your chest. “Working in CompSci has its perks.”

“So, I’m finding out,” you smile, an underlying layer of discomfort shifting you against your desk chair. “Are you sure, though?”

“Of course. I’d hate if you lost out on this knowing I could’ve done something to help,” Jisung explains. “You were the one to introduce me to them anyways. Plus we’d have a better chance of sticking together in the pit if we get them together, right?”

You swallow a lump in your throat, something taking flight in your airy chest. “Yeah, you’re right. Just send me your bank details so I can transfer you the day of.”

“Coming right up!” he jokes, and you laugh, however lame he claims himself to be.

On Thursday, he sends you a photo of his solid black high-tech set-up, a PC he’s constructed himself with more monitors than you can count. The side of his face is included in the picture, silky black hair, a brown eye and a beauty mark on his cheekbone you dream of kissing later that night. You find out he secures the tickets on your lunch break, your debt towards him being booking the hotel you’d be staying at. Due to the limited funds you’re working with, you end up getting a shared room, an option that gives him pause before he agrees in a tremored voice. You’re a bit apprehensive yourself, but you booked for two beds, so it should be fine. If worst comes to worst, and something happens between you two – like him turning out to be a sexist neckbeard loser he couldn’t take no for an answer - you’d sleep in your car (or kick him out, actually). At any rate, you had options (and a friend tracking your live location).

In no time, weeks fly by and Wunderhorse drops their latest album. It’s the best thing you’ve experienced since sliced bread, an opinion Jisung shares as you two listen to it over call late one Friday night, speaking about your favourite songs amongst other things. You don’t know how it starts, perhaps it’s a lyric that sticks out to him that he mentions or something else entirely, but suddenly, you’re reminded of high school you. How deeply you wanted to be accepted by others, and how that satisfaction depended on the person you got it from. That you preferred conformity instead of individuality, because being seen with popular shallow kids meant something to you.

“I wasn’t a good person in high school,” you find yourself admitting, your body hollowed out with guilt. Regret like ash on your tongue. “I hurt people because I valued other people’s opinions over my own. I know I was young, but-”

“You said it yourself: you were young,” Jisung comments, the serious intent in his voice catching you off guard. “The fact you recognise your behaviour and feel remorse for it shows how much you’ve grown. I mean, high school can be very unforgiving because nobody really knows who they are or what the fuck they’re doing, so it’s only reasonably to make choices you may regret. What’s important, I think, is how you’ve chosen to move forward,”

“You said it yourself, you’ve apologised to those you hurt. Not many, if any person in your position, would do the same, which shows how much you genuinely care to make things right,” you sniff, vision blurring with tears of relief and sadness. “So, if you ask me, I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself. It’s all a learning curve, you were doing what was best to protect yourself then. And now, you’re a better and kinder person because of it.”

Another time you should’ve known you’d fallen for him. Yet, you remain none the wiser. All the way until concert day, getting off work early that Friday afternoon and making the journey down to the bright city lights of Seoul. Everything twinkles and dazzles, a 180 from your modest living in your hometown. You suppose your excitement for the concert has some role in this too, but considering the lack of vibrancy in your life, you allow yourself to sink your teeth into this. Feel the goosebumps against your skin, the lightness in your limbs and the uptake in your heartbeat.

You check into the hotel first since Jisung has a last-minute team meeting at work, setting yourself up on your side of the cosy room of wooden and white hues. As you slip on your Hello Kitty headband to do skincare, a knock rasps against the door, audible above the sound of your music.

With furrowed eyebrows, you approach the door, revealing a sight that stops your heart in its tracks.

On the other side of the door is who you should’ve expected: Jisung. What you don’t expect, however, is his sharp features, black smooth hair with matching formal clothing to contrast so beautifully with his porcelain skin. The dark, ocean blue contacts he wears with a pretty pink lip tint. Not to mention that beauty mark you’ve been thirsting over for the past few months? Yeah, that’s all in eye-view now, close enough to touch and it’s this fact that sends your brain into overdrive.

While you malfunction, Jisung dips his head, a large fist curled to his lips to hide his sheepish smile. Chuckles in a bit of an awkward and embarrassed way. 

Oh my god?!

“Nice to finally meet you,” he greets, black leather overnight bag clutched to his side. A fluffy blue and pink keychain of Little Twin Stars hangs off the zip, a cute juxtaposition to his intimidating outfit. And height. God, he really wasn’t lying when he said he was nearly 6 ft. 

“I texted you I’d arrived, but you hadn’t read them,”

A forceful blink out of your trance brings you back to reality, one where you’re not openly drooling over how handsome your internist best friend is. “Yeah, sorry. I was busy getting ready.”

“I figured so,” his eyes scan your clothes - your ripped baggy jeans, leather platform shoes amongst what you have on - and his lips curve, admiration in his eyes. “You look great.”

If there weren’t societal ideals of an inappropriate reaction to that compliment, you would’ve tattooed it to your forehead, or on your lower back. Maybe ripped off your shirt and kissed him before combusting because what do you mean, this very handsome man, thinks you look great?!

“Thank you,” you blush, your body running hot like a furnace. Even so, you decide to take advantage of the situation, leaning in for an embrace that he reciprocates as you mumble into his shoulder. “Nice to finally meet you too.”

The rest of the afternoon blurs, the few moments of scattered glances and awkward silence incomparable with the ease of conversation that flows between you once his favourite song, Poppy, comes on. Catching up to speed with each other’s day as you two get ready, it’s not lost on you how domestic the scene is - how familiar, or right it feels. Jisung, in all aspects of the word, is endearing - flustered by the compliments you send his way, brightening up at the new additions to the setlist and best of you, timid with pink cheeks when he hands over a ‘first meeting’ gift - an assortment of snacks, a Hello Kitty plushie and a card that makes you coo. It takes everything in you not to sink your teeth into him, overwhelmed by the sweetness that laces his actions and words, riding the high he and the music gives you as you make your way to the venue after you’re both finished.

Long lines snake around the arena, grey clouds permeating the area as rainfall clatters to the pavement. Jisung, ever so prepared, brings along an umbrella that you share, squeezing underneath so much you feel the warmth of Jisung through his bare, very defined bicep. How someone looks so good in a silver sequin top under a tattered sleeveless black vest is beyond you. Then again, him being single is beyond your comprehension too. Considering his calm and thoughtful demeanour, coupled with his good looks, you would’ve expected people lining up by the thousands to plead their case. However, whenever you two talked about this, he’d simply say his go-to phrase and change the topic, his phrase being:

“I’ve got my eye on someone. Just working up the courage to ask them out.”

Whoever managed to catch his eye, you’d thought to be lucky. Maybe they’d saved a small village in their past life because as people push when the doors open, Jisung shields you from any damage, reminding you how good of a romantic partner he could be. Especially so when you’re inside and he snaps all your photos, accompanying you to the bar and merch table where you get matching t-shirts before he keeps them with him so you’re free throughout the concert. Dimmed red lights and chatter fill the spacious hall, a flood of warm bodies surrounding you as you peer at the stage, the band all set up and ready to go come showtime. You sing along to the host of songs the venue plays beforehand, enough nudges in the shoulder to get Jisung to sing along and of course - of course - he has a beautiful voice too. At this point, you were convinced he either had a missing toe or had weird opinions about the order of cereal because the more you spent time with him, the more he shines in your eyes.

Eventually, the chatter dies down and all lights go off, screams rising through the crowd as Wunderhorse comes onto the stage. Buzzing at a frequency unheard of, you bounce off the balls of your feet, hand holding Jisung as you exclaim, “It’s them! It’s really them!”

Missing how flushed Jisung becomes at the contact, you sing with all your heart - offkey and all - to their opening song, Midas. The energy is through the roof, a dizzying world of flashing lights and music that retches the lyrics straight out of you. In a moment’s chance, Jisung and you turn to each other mid-song, smiles bright as the stage lights outline your damp faces, chest heaving with a mouthful of lyrics in their wake. It’s the happiest you’ve been, holding his hand like this, and as the night winds to simmer, you sway to slow songs and thank your lucky stars for finding your way back to this.

After the show, you two chatter with other adoring fans before trekking to your nearby hotel, stomachs growling for food. Jisung finds a great Chinese place that delivers until 2 am, a gesture you simper at, unaware he’d even remembered you’d liked the cuisine. At this point, you’re drained in the best possible way, a dull ache in your feet but riding a high of something you’ll remember forever. 

Now, you’re up to speed. Great. Let’s get back to your current dilemma.

Somehow, someway, your unlaced and stubborn platform shoes cause a stumble, one that Jisung tries to save you from but ends up caught in the mix. How, you might ask? Well, you’re not entirely sure but what you definitely know is that you’ve fallen on one of the beds, Jisung’s body caging yours as he braces his own fall. Face-to-face. With you.

Ok.

You’re close enough to share a breath, within reach to see his long lashes and shaky pupils that dart from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again. Suddenly, the room temperature dials to an unprecedented heat, walls closing in on you two as you lie in waiting. Waiting for the other to make their move. To lean in or pull away, heads or tails on a coin.

His phone rings, cutting through the tension-filled air with a knife. The moment, gone. 

“You okay?” he rasps, a knit in his eyebrows as if he’s holding himself back. You blink wordlessly, your answer in an absent nod. “I’ll, uhm…get the food.”

It’s not a suggestion, nothing that you can object to, particularly when he’s long gone and you’re clutching at your chest, months of infatuation knocking the breath out of you.

When Jisung returns minutes later, you’ve turned the TV on, preparing to fill the silence if need be. It proves necessary, only groans of pleasure and compliments to the chef shared between you two as you eat your weight in noodles. Not much is said when you’re getting ready for bed either, brushing your teeth together as if you're a couple and settling into separate beds, all the lights turned off.

Still reeling for the fall, and convinced his shallow breaths allude to his slumber, you’re startled by the call of your name, head turning towards Jisung beside you.

“Yes?”

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks before clearing his throat. “That was…some fall.”

You can say that again.

“I’m ok,” you lie. You’re on high alert, frazzled at every end with a heart you’ve just realised longs for the man not even two metres away from you. “Are you?”

Silence. The only feedback you hear is the crinkle of his duvet as he shuffles in his bed.

“Ask me another question.”

You turn to him, shrouded in darkness. “Like what?”

He doesn’t speak again, lets the silence devour the space between you before he says. “Ask me about the person I’m interested in.”

Water that rivals the arctic pours down your back, a harsh call to reality as you remember. Right, he has someone he’s interested in. Someone who he’ll devout his time to, listen to their music recommendations and hold their hands at concerts. And you? Well, you’ll still be friends, but maybe not as close. Maybe not even friends at all.

The thought closes an iron fist around your heart.

“Why haven’t you asked them out?” is what you manage, because it’s on your mind - what time and place he’ll find himself in when he confesses his feelings.

“Because I’m scared,” he admits, small and in a whisper. “Considering we met online, it’s kind of hard to gauge their interest or read any signs. You don’t give me much to work with,”

You still. “I don’t?’

“I mean, I haven’t been too obvious, but I’m crazy about you,” he confesses. “I love the light in your eyes and the kindness in your heart. You’re so deeply human and live life like it’s your first and last. There’s no one like you and I think the idea of knowing how special you are triggered my fear of rejection. Because what would my life be without watching festival performances while drunk with you? What would it be if you didn’t laugh at my lame jokes and didn’t command my every thought?”

Jisung shuffles again, a flicker of dim light in between you two at a lamp source as he stares over at you, wholehearted and vulnerable. “It’d be an empty one - not worth living.”

Slowly, your body brings you upwards, the two of you hanging off the edges of your bed. So close if you’d reach out, your hands would touch. 

“When?” you croak, unable to meet his eyes. “When did you…start feeling this way?”

His eyes lower, a slight curve to the corner of his lips. “Around November?”

Electricity zaps your back straight. Five months ago? “When we joined the server?”

“Shortly after that,” he admits, a coy grin breaking out against his flushed features. “I was having a really hard day and you’d recommend a song in the chat, Favourite by Fontaines DC, and said how nostalgic and hopeful it felt to you. I gave it a listen and…it was like a battery in my back. I cried, but I also smiled too because I understood what you meant by it all,”

He threads his fingers together, peering up with shining eyes as he adds, “it felt like a peak into your soul, and mine too….I think that’s where it started.”

Your hand finally reaches out, overlaying his as tears fill your sight. “You know you’re my favourite, right?”

“No one stood a chance after that drunk video of you singing along to Champagne Supernova,” you share a laugh, reminiscing of the video he accidentally sent into the server one December night. A die-hard Oasis fan till the end. “I mean it. There’s no one I’d want to spend my days with, listen to music with and discover all there is to life. No one but you.”

His bottom lip gives a wobble, hands unearthing from yours as his thumb grazes your knuckles, bringing the hand up in a searing kiss. One he looks you right in the eyes for as he says, “Can we push the beds together please?”

You bark out an unexpected laugh, fondness shaping your smile as you speak with all of your heart. “I would love nothing more.”

[chulippi]

l4d2 and everything’s the same except ellis likes TOOL

[wemlygust]

I hadn't heard about this, so I looked up the trailer expecting it to be awful and

This... looks fun actually? Toothless looks like Toothless. Still expressive and everything. It doesn't look like a Lion King situation in that sense. This trailer, to me, makes it look like they've changed the tone to a more serious one, but like the heart and emotion at the core of it may still be there. And the actor they picked for Hiccup seems like a good fit (I don't know hardly any actors though so idk who this is). It looks like How to Train Your Dragon: Gritty Lord-of-the-Ring's-ish Dramatic Fantasy Edition. Seems like a good time to me. Like the movie equivalent of an alternate universe fanfiction. I still won't see it in theaters. I'd still prefer more original films over this. I'd still prefer animated versions of live action originals, over yet another CGI/live action version of an existing animated movie that's perfectly good as it is. I'd prefer a new adaptation (animated or live) of the How to Train Your Dragon book (which I hear is VERY different than the movie) over this - that option was literally right there. They could've still tied it to the How to Train Your Dragon animated films in the marketing. It'd mean paying scriptwriters to adapt the book to film in a new way, but like. Scriptwriters are not even close to the most expensive part of filmmaking. They could have made it animated again and saved a bucketload of money. But still... as "live action" adaptations go, I'm actually interested in this one. I'm looking forward to it now. CGI, also, isn't even "live action", not really. I hate that this has somehow become the universal term for it. CGI is also animation, just really realistic and expensive animation. It has artistic value and also has a heck of a lot of potential beyond the ways it is most often used. There are so many cool things that could be done with it that get left on the table in favor of only "let's make this as realistic-looking and/or dark and gritty and scary as possible and put it next to human actors". It's been artificially limited from what it could be by corporate culture and decision-making (as have been many other things). Anyway, since Toothless - at least in the trailer, though granted that may not be representative - looks properly expressive in the usual animated fashion, this doesn't give me that "why are people treating animation as inferior" feeling as much as other such adaptations do. It does give me a bit of the "why do people treat realistic aesthetics as automatically better" feeling, but they're definitely doing this just because they (probably rightfully) expect they can make a lot of money for the investment required. And it looks fun so I can give that a pass, maybe. If it does well enough, it could hypothetically fund more originals that are bigger risks, the way mega-popular books have traditionally funded the risks publishers take on newer, riskier authors and books. But of course this is assuming the execs don't just pocket everything and then look for the next easy cash grab instead. (I've read that model in book publishing has been dwindling lately, too, but I've not looked into it much.) I am a bit concerned by the fact the 2nd trailer is almost identical to the first, though, because that leaves the possibility that they showcased the only good-looking bit and left out the rest. :P I do think there's a chance it'll actually be good though.

GUESS WHO EDITED SMTH AGAINNN

My thoughts of httyd live action as a whole

[larluce]

First I wanted to say hello and tell you that I love your works. They really have me on the edge of my seat every time I read them.

Second. Can you imagine that Merlin, in some new alternative universe, for some reason, upon arriving in Camelot, arrives with a baby? It's all still a Merthur ending, it should be noted.

Like, we know that Merlin was already a bit of an outcast in the village for the reason that nobody knew who his father was and even more so because strange things were always happening around him.

The situation gets much worse when he finds a crying baby in the middle of a burnt tent near the village.

Will and his mother try to help him for a while, but with the visits of the evildoers to the village becoming more and more frequent, Merlin and the baby have no choice but to go to Camelot.

And so the adventures begin!

Only now Arthur wonders if they can make crowns for babies, because he is willing to marry Merlin and legally adopt the baby as his own.

And Morgana… well, she and Gwen enjoy dressing up the baby in all the clothes from her old dolls. Not to mention that she notices that by taking naps with the baby she no longer has nightmares.

The knights become, in some way or another, glorified nannies. The servants and maids must chase after a baby who never stops causing mischief in the castle.

And Merlin just wants to survive colic season and potty train his baby… and everything would be easier if there weren't a murderer or a resentful wizard trying to kill Arthur every 3 minutes.

First, thank you so much for the compliments! 🥹🤧❤️

About the concept. I love it! I don't think going to Camelot to live would be Merlin or Hunith's first option for a baby that can't control their magic at all. So I firmly believe Hunith would send Merlin with the baby there so Gaius can take them to a druid camp so they could take refuge there.

The problem is, before Gaius can do so, Merlin is made the prince's personal manservant. Merlin can't exactly deny the king and he does need the money to take care of his baby so he decides to stay to Gaius dismay. Gaius and Merlin try to keep the baby hided at first so they take turns taking care of her (in my mind is a her) in Gaius' tower in secret. It works out for some weeks but then the plague (Nimueh's Afanc) happens and Arthur searches Gaius' tower.

Arthur: (enters Merlin's room) Merlin: (running inside) Arthur, wait! Baby: (sitting on the bed, looks up at Arthur and gives a cute giggle) Arthur: (Turns to Merlin slowly) Merlin? Merlin: Yeah? 😅 Arthur: Why is there a baby in your bed? Merlin: (in panic, shouts the first thing that comes to his mind) She is mine! Arthur: ... Arthur: What? 😧 Merlin: (repeats more quietly but more firmly) She is mine. (runs to hold her up and embraces her) She is my daugther. Arthur: (thinking) But... but he is so young. (says) Where's the mother? Merlin: (with pain as he remembers the burnt tent) She passed away. Arthur: (his heart hurting for Merlin) I'm so sorry. But Gods Merlin, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have given you so many chores if I knew... (thinking) And I almost sacked you. I almost sacked a single father with a baby in arms! (says) And why the hell are you hiding her? Merlin: I... wasn't sure if I could keep her. Arthur: Of course you can keep her! What kind of master do you think I am? Knight x: (from outside) Sire? Arthur: (shouts back) In a minute! (to Merlin) What's her name? Merlin: Brigitta. Arthur: (repeats softly and smiles) Brigitta.

From then on, Arthur doesn't give Merlin as many chores and raises his salary considerably. And then everybody else finds out about Briggitta and go "I've only met Brigitta for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself".

Some events would change, obviously, and some would remain the same but with a new perspective. I don't think Merlin would have time to make Lancelot a fake seal, for example, having to look after Brigitta and all. I can imagine Lancelot becoming Brigitta's first unnofficial babysiter, then Arthur makes it official so poor Lancelot has a salary and a place to stay in Camelot. The Poisoned Chalice episode would remain the same, except Arthur would be more in panic mode and desperate because MERLIN HAS A DAUGHTER! BRIGITTA CAN'T LOSE HER FATHER TOO!

I think it would be The Beginning of the End where Arthur and Morgana find out about Brigitta's magic and Merlin's magic. Not because they discovered her, surprisingly, but Merlin decided to tell them all the truth about her and himself after seeing how they saved Mordred. Also, since Merlin saw Brigitta's possible future in Mordred, he wants to leave Camelot too to keep her safe. Screw all what the dragon told him about destiny, his daugther comes first.

So Merlin and Brigitta are about to leave with Mordred with the druids. They are having a heartfelt goodbye with Arthur, who scorted them there, but then...

Brigitta: (cries very loudly in Merlin's arms and the earth starts shaking a bit) Merlin: I know, I know, baby, but we have to go. Brigitta: (cries more loudly and extends her little arms to Arthur) Arthur: (barely containing his tears) I'll miss you too, Biddy. But this is the best for you- Brigitta: ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (open his eyes wide) What did she just said? Brigitta: (still crying and making grabby hands at him) ATHU, ATHU, ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes) She said my name... Merlin, she said my name! (grinning widely) Let me hold her one more time, please! Merlin: (gives Brigitta to Arthur) Druid leader: (urgently) We need to leave now! Merlin: (looking at Arthur and Brigitta tenderly and smiles) Leave, we'll stay.

I also can imagine Nimueh going after Brigitta's life instead of Hunith, and having to confront not only a very furious Merlin, but a feral protective prince.

That's how far my imagination can go. If you have any ideas of how Merlin and Arthur or other character would act in other episodes now with Brigitta in the equation, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be happy to read you 🥰

[thewinter-eden]

You Called?

images are mine (except middle HJ pic that I got from pinterest). please do not use without permission. ATE pcs are my inspo for this series.

part 5 of the skz crack!horror series.

pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader rating: mature, dark themes summary: demon!Jisung is summoned by your friends during a drunken college party. They’re trying to scare you, pretend to summon a demon and then lock you in the basement until they decide to let you out, but then the demon actually comes, and he thinks your friends are jerks.

warnings: Fear/comfort, edgy but soft Jisung, terrorizing of minor characters, discussion of spiritualism/afterlife, my only reference for demons is Supernatural, reader is freaked out by witchcraft, slight disparaging of witchcraft and mysticism (does not reflect actual beliefs), Jisung is instantly whipped, deals, fear, this one turned out a little angsty, truth or dare.

word count: 5k

Comment a request to be tagged.

series info

“I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Of course you don’t. But clearly, your aunt did.”

Yes, it’s your aunt’s fault. If only she didn’t have a basement full of jarred herbs and tarot cards and ouija boards and weird leathery spell books, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. You’d be in a different one, for sure, because having the friends that you have isn’t your aunt’s fault, it’s yours, but still—you wouldn’t be locked in a basement with three of your friends browsing through your aunt’s dusty new agey books.

“Now, come on, sit around the circle thing.” One of your friends, Rami, tugs you down by your elbow to sit cross-legged on the edge of a chalk rune on the floor. It looks aged and scuffed and mostly faded by dust and time, but present enough to be identifiable as something mystical.

“I’m serious, I don’t think my aunt would have wanted us down here.” You mutter. It seems colder all of a sudden, chills covering your arms and shivering down your spine.

“Then she should have cleaned it out before she died I guess.” Rami returned, gesturing for Chae and Boyoung to sit down as well. “And besides, this was your penalty. You accepted it, so this is what we’re doing.”

You wouldn’t have accepted the stupid penalty for the stupid drinking game from the stupid college party upstairs if the alternative hadn’t been being cornered by the greasy frat boy who kept slipping his hands under your shirt every time he got the chance.

Next time your cousin tries to convince you to come over and “let loose with a couple of friends” you’re going to remember that her idea of hanging out is a massive college kegger.

“Alright, here it is.” Boyoung draws her legs up underneath her and rests the massive tome of the spell book she’s holding across her knees. She shoots the others a devious smirk, and then clears her throat. “Are we ready?”

You most certainly are not.

It’s not like you believe in the afterlife and mysticism and witchcraft and all of the other spiritualism nuances that your aunt was into, but you also recognize that you definitely don’t know everything about the scope of the universe. You’re willing to admit that you might be wrong about what exists and what is folklore, and you’re certainly not enthusiastic about playing around with the afterlife—just in case.

You’ve never even touched a Ouija board, because what if?

You don’t think they work, but what if?

And now, because you lost a stupid drinking game, your stupid friends are going to use the demon summoning ritual that your aunt just had, like it’s an old family recipe or something.

“Can I pick a different penalty?” You try again, your palms sweating. Yeah, sure, nothing’s going to happen because it’s obviously an old gift shop spell book (a really old, really big gift shop spell book), but all the half-burnt candles and chalk runes and hanging herbs around you are starting to freak you out.

Boyoung and Chae both shake their heads, while Rami reaches out and snatches your elbow. “This was the deal—one summoning spell, and then ten minutes by yourself. You agreed.”

You feel like crying.

You regret it. You regret coming. You didn’t like your aunt when she was alive—who gives their nieces and nephews cat whiskers and tinctures for birthdays?—and you certainly don’t like your cousin now—she clearly has a terrible idea of a good time—so why did you even come tonight?

At this point, you’re even wishing you can go back upstairs and ask the greasy frat boy to rescue you from your friends. They’re way too excited about leaving you locked in the creepy basement after a demonic invocation, whether they believe in it or not.

“Go ahead!” Chae nudges Boyoung. “Hurry up, I wanna go back upstairs.”

“It’s fucking creepy in here.” Rami agrees, rubbing her arms and jutting her chin towards the book.

“Why don’t we just do something else? Forget the basement.” You complain, starting to get back to your feet.

Predictably, Rami yanks you back down. “Rules are rules! Go ahead, Boyoung-ah.”

That’s how you find yourself sitting in a dark basement while your friend chants ominously in Latin, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon. Why did it have to be a demon summoning? Why couldn’t it have been a séance? At least if you were going to be playing around with pretend spiritualism, you could pretend to talk to someone you actually liked.

Your dad had died when you were little, you could pretend to have a tear-jerking reunion and then get the fuck out of that creepy old witch house once your friends were satisfied.

Why do you even call them your friends anyway?

You’re all just the members of a few too many group projects for your biology classes, more associates than anything else.

But Boyoung is still chanting, tripping over awkward pronunciation of the dead language and squinting through the faint light to see the faded text on the ancient pages.

You don’t think it’s your imagination when a whisper of air ruffles the hair at the back of your neck, but you’re also extremely anxious at the moment. So anxious that you physically jump when Boyoung slams the book shut.

“Done!” She chirps, hopping to her feet and dusting off the seat of her skirt. She fixes you with an evil grin. “Ten minutes by yourself!” Then she loops her arm through Chae’s and your three associates clamber back up the rickety stairs to the basement door.

Before they leave you, teary and trembling on the concrete floor, Rami pauses and looks back at you. “And no using your phone. If we see any light under the door, we’ll keep it locked for an extra ten minutes.”

It was a meaningless threat, because you know for sure they’re gonna go upstairs and get more drinks and find more friends, and you’re going to have to call your cousin to let you out after they forget about you.

So there you are. In the dark, in a creepy basement, all by yourself. You’re still sitting on the ground, cross-legged, your shaky hands gripping at your knees like it’s the only thing grounding you.

It’s just an empty basement.

It’s just you, by yourself.

You decide to close your eyes and focus on your breathing, counting the lengths of each inhale and exhale until the vague sounds of Boyoung’s invocation fades from your memory. You sit there, just breathing, urging the tension to melt from your muscles, until it feels like an eternity has passed.

The party is still in full swing on the floor above you, the music and laughter floating beneath the door down to you. You focus on the shouting voices until your spine relaxes.

When your eyes finally open and blink down at the bright screen of your phone, reading the giant numbers of the clock glaring back at you, you realize you’ve only been alone for three minutes.

Every ounce of tension returns, winding through the fibers in your muscles until it’s clamped around your bones and settled in the roots of your teeth. You’re still in a creepy witchy basement for another seven freaking minutes. As the darkness seems to physically seep into your skin, your gaze is sweeping the shadows of the room.

Bookshelves covered in spilled wax, random feathers, jars of little stones and dirt (hopefully dirt?), various crystals, tons of super old books, crates of more books, larger jars of plants and branches that you can’t begin to make sense of, and an aura that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You can’t say why you feel like you’re being watched, especially when you know you’re alone, but your heart is once again inexplicably racing in your chest.

There’s no one.

The shadow to your left is the marble bust of a saint or an angel or something, the one near your feet is the pile of musty blankets on an old wooden chair, the one straight ahead of you is the kettle that hangs from a frame over the ashy pit of a cold fireplace.

Honestly what the hell was your aunt up to before she died?

You bring yourself back, focusing on the cold concrete beneath your butt, the way your ankle is grinding into the floor, the cold that’s curling its fingers around your throat when your shirt slips off of one shoulder.

As you try to slip back into the calm refuge that you’d found with your eyes closed, desperate to not emerge from the pit of the basement with tear streaks of dust and mascara, all you can hear is your own breathing.

There’s no one in there with you, no one in the shadows, no one lurking behind the stairs.

Sucking in a deep breath, you hold it and listen to your heart pounding in your ears. It’s a trick you learned to calm yourself when you were young, counting to four between breaths. In the next few moments, you feel your body begin to relax and sink back into a neutral position.

Your lungs burn as you count to four for the tenth time.

The next exhale is loud.

And it is most decidedly not your own.

You shoot upright, hand snapping out to clutch at your phone. Fuck what Rami said, you need that flashlight. Tracking the shadows again as your sweat-slicked hands fight your thumbprint reader, eyes widely combing every inch of the dark room, you find yourself unable to peer past the blackness to see the source of the sound that made your heart flip.

Your phone just keeps shaking its “try again” message at you, stubbornly refusing to unlock.

Until you see them—and you realize that you’ve already been looking at them—your gaze landing on them a dozen times in the past thirty seconds, not even registering them.

Until they blink back at you.

Your fingers stomp your passcode in and swipe on the flashlight.

Cold white light floods the room, and he’s standing there, staring at you.

You scream, bundled nerves exploding your body backwards and you find yourself on your feet, scrambling back against a heavy bookshelf.

But he’s just standing there, watching you from the other edge of the chalk circle thing you were sitting on. His head is tilted slightly, sharp eyes hooded as he beholds you silently.

Your arm is practically spasming as you try to keep your light pointed at him and check all the walls and corners at the same time, your brain screaming at you to figure out where he came from. Where did he come from? There’s only one door in the basement, and it’s up the flight of stairs to your left.

“What the fuck?” You screech, your other hand scrambling for something—anything.

The man’s eyes narrow.

He’s not especially tall, but he’s lean and strong, dressed in all black, his raven hair curling over his forehead and neck. There’s something devilishly beautiful about him, about the honey of his skin and the flick of his tongue between his lips.

His eyes mimic yours, tracing you up and down, and his tongue flicks again. Then he opens his mouth and his chin twitches up, short locks of hair flipping away from his eyes. “You called?”

The sultry baritone of his voice floats to your ears with heavy, dangerous weight, and your fingers automatically clamp around the first thing you find. Before you can reason your way through your next decision, you hurl it—the book you’re suddenly holding—directly at his head.

The man flinches, knocking the book aside with the swipe of his hand, but doesn’t realize there’s a second one coming.

You’re pelting them as quickly as you can find them, yanking ancient (probably valuable) books off of the shelf, sending up plumes of dust everywhere, hurling them at the man as you edge your way towards the stairs. He’s standing between you and your exit and you’ll be damned (hopefully not literally) if you’re going to be sacrificed to a demon in your freaky aunt’s basement.

But then his voice reaches you with a completely different tone.

“Stop! Oh my god, stop!” He’s twisted away from you, his hands up covering his face. You see glimpses of his eyes gone impossibly wide, lips jutting out in a disbelieving pout, trying desperately to catch your gaze. He dodges another book and dances away from another. “Why are you—stop!—you called me!”

Another book strikes his shoulder and his pitch goes even higher.

“You literally called me! Stop!”

You stop.

He sounds so…offended that you’re battering him with books that you just plant yourself, clutching a heavy tome to your chest, gaping at him.

He takes a second to collect himself, smoothing down the sleek black jacket that wraps around his thick shoulders and falls snugly around his narrow waist.

Running a hand through his hair and shaking dust out of it, he gapes right back at you. “Do you know how rare it is for this to happen?” He demands, eyes still comically wide. “We don’t just come when called anymore! You—” He jabs a finger in your direction and you shriek, flinching. “Are lucky that I was curious!”

Your hope of coming out of this experience without wearing your mascara in crusted ribbons down your cheeks went out the window about fifteen books ago. “You…you’re…” You suck in a deep breath that sounds like it choked you all the way down. “You?”

The man glares at you, planting his hands on his hips. “You are unbelievably rude.” He decides, taking a step closer as though you aren’t literally hiding behind the giant book in your hands. “You reach through the veil to call upon a spiritual being in the year of our Lord, 2025, and when I answer the freaking phone you throw a library at me? This is why we don’t talk to you people anymore.”

But he doesn’t reach to touch you or attack you and stomp on your skull, so you lower the book away from your face ever so slightly.

He’s standing in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a disappointed frown on his face.

You take a second to blink at him, a flood of tears trickling down your cheeks. There’s so much happening, so much shattering your entire perception of the universe right now, but there’s only one thing on your mind. “Did you just say ‘oh my god’?”

At your timid, whimpering voice, the demon’s eyes roll. “Are you serious right now?”

You flinch, stumbling back. “It’s just…” Your eyes wander and you mentally pinch yourself. But, honestly, he’s fucking gorgeous and your racing heart is making your head spin already. “You’re a demon?”

“Yeah, so?” He shoots back.

“So…” you swallow harshly. “God?”

This brings a smirk to his lips. “If you came down here to ask about God, I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

“I didn’t call you.” You argue, glancing behind you to make sure you aren’t going to be falling into a coffin or some other terrible thing that your aunt has hidden back there.

He looks confused. “You didn’t?” He glances around. “Someone did. It’s not like I can get the address wrong.”

“My friends called you.” There’s nowhere for you to go. You’re standing against the wall, mere feet away from a literal demon, and there’s nowhere you can run from him.

At the obviously otherwise empty basement, the demon raises his eyebrows at you. “Where are they?”

You shakily point towards the stairs as you slide down the wall to the floor. “At the party. It was a dare. A penalty for a dumb game—they were supposed to pretend to summon a demon with all of this weird shit and then I was supposed to stay down here for ten minutes by myself—they just wanted to scare me. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please just go away, I’ll never bother you, I swear.” You’re sobbing, completely overwhelmed, feeling completely exposed to this spiritual being as he watches you fall apart.

You’ve got the massive tome propped up on your lap, leaned against your forehead to shield yourself as you weep.

Do demons kill people?

Do they just possess people?

Are you going to go on from this night demon-possessed?

Are you supposed to pray or something?

Weight lifts from your bones as the tome is suddenly taken from you, and you blink past tears to see that the demon is crouched in front of you, dark strands of hair dancing with his eyelashes as he peers into your fearful face.

His gaze traces the trembling in your shoulders, your hands, your thighs, the rigid, bulging muscles in your throat and forearms as your body tightens with terror. When he speaks again, his deep voice is gentle. “Your friends summoned a demon and locked you in here by yourself?”

There’s nothing you can do but nod, wishing you hadn’t skipped your weekly phone call to your mom earlier. You wish you’d told her you love her, that you never meant to be possessed by a demon.

You see his hand lift and your eyes squeeze shut, a whimpering gasp rushing past your lips. If you get out of here alive, you’re burning down the basement and going to church.

But then his warm—feverishly hot, actually—fingertips glide over the wetness of your face, and his thumb is wiping at your tears. When your eyes snap open, he’s cupping your cheek in one hand but his eyes are black fire. “Stay here, baby, I’ll be right back.”

His touch disappears in a swirl of black smoke and he’s gone, vanished right before you like he was never there.

But your cheek is still throbbing from the heat of his palm, your heart thumping in your chest from the impact of his low voice.

Did he just call you baby?

All of that goes directly out of your mind because in the next second, you can hear enormous crashes of thunder above your head. The music from the party dies with an electric squeal that makes your ears sting, and then screams fill the air. The ceiling of the basement pounds and trembles with running footsteps from the floor above, furniture crashing and college students stumbling into things.

There’s a flicker from beneath the basement door, and then the light disappears.

The single bulb over your head goes out.

You scramble for your phone, turning the flashlight back on, heart hammering as you listen.

The screams begin to fade, sounding farther and farther away, until the house above you is completely silent.

Black smoke puffs in front of you and there he is again, the demon with the fire in his eyes.

The reflexive yelp that scratches up your throat is accidental, but it seems to douse the flames and the man’s gaze softens as he lowers himself to the floor, mimicking your folded-knees position. He lifts a hand and gestures to you, beckoning you closer.

Obviously you don’t move, terrified out of your mind. “What the hell did you just do?”

“I locked them in a room with me and scared them.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t as funny as they thought it was going to be. Your friends are assholes and I don’t think you should hang out with them anymore.” He tilts his head at you, his hand still extended. “I didn’t hurt them, I promise. They just ran away. As long as they stay away from you, they’ll be fine.”

You’re going to be completely honest with yourself, you didn’t have nearly enough wits about you to wonder if he’d gone up and slaughtered the whole bunch of them. But it’s nice that he didn’t, you guess.

“So.” He claps both hands to his knees. “This is a college party? I haven’t been to one of these in ages. Do you still play truth or dare?”

Your mouth falls open.

He scoots closer.

“Why as long as they stay away from me?” You’re grasping for understanding, wondering why you’re still on the filthy floor in the creepiest room you’ve ever found yourself in, staring at a demon who’s just asked you to play truth or dare.

The demon’s eyes narrow but his lips curl in a playful smirk. “Truth or dare, baby?”

You can’t help the shiver. Do you refuse to play? He’s a literal demon who can apparently call upon thunder and destroy sound and electrical systems and frighten the bejeezus out of an entire college party.

It stands to reason that playing the silly game is probably in your best interest.

“Truth.” The tiny whisper of your voice puts a flash of teasing disappointment in his eyes.

“Okay,” He says, and scoots even closer. “Are you grateful I made your friends piss themselves for you?”

A storm of emotions strike you. Are you grateful? Yeah, a little bit. It would have been hilarious to watch, now that you think about it. Are you confused as to why he did it? More than you can articulate. Would you have ever asked him to get revenge over a penalty that was supposed to be a joke? Honestly, probably not. Are you going to tell him that?

Hell to the no.

“Yes.” You swallow. “I’m grateful.”

He looks satisfied with your answer, with himself. “Good. Your turn. Ask me.”

You don’t want to ask him. You want to leave this house just like everybody else did, with your tail between your legs and your world changed forever—but alive. But you can’t. So you clench your fists and shed another round of tears. “Truth or dare?”

What would you even dare him to do?

“Dare,” He says devilishly, tongue flicking out to scrape his teeth. His eyes are mischief and intrigue, but they’re watching the trail of your tears with undeniable softness.

“I dare you…” Your voice chokes like a candle being blown out, and you struggle to get it back. “I dare you not to hurt me.” It’s pathetic. It’s laughably pathetic, but you’re scared beyond all reason and you need any kind of reassurance to keep you sane right now.

The teasing falls from his expression instantly, and a solemn stare levels with you. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe with me, I swear it.” His hands twitch, he wants to wipe the tears from your face, but he won’t—not again—not until you’re not afraid of him anymore.

You could weep all over again from the sheer anxiety of it all. “Why? Why would I believe you? Why me?”

He just smiles. “It’s my turn. Truth or dare?”

You are absolutely not ready to take a dare from a demon. “Truth.”

“Tell me your name. I’m Jisung.”

Jisung is looking at you like you’re a harbinger of hope, and you suddenly wonder if your name is supposed to hold power. Does giving your name to a demon give him power over you? Should you lie? Do you keep it to yourself?

But he gave you his name. (Or did he lie?)

You tell him. You’re locked in a basement with him—he doesn’t need a magical connection to you to kill you. He could hurt you whenever he wants.

He says your name out loud and you flinch, waiting. But your blood doesn’t boil, your eyes don’t explode, your brain doesn’t leak out of your ears. Your name on his tongue gives you confidence though, like he’s acknowledged you on an existential level and now you can look him in the eyes.

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.” He already knows you won’t dare him to do anything, not while your mind is still racing with questions.

“Tell me why I’m safe with you, Jisung.”

He blinks at the strength in your voice, at his name in your mouth. It’s so overwhelming, to hear his name spoken aloud, that he has to turn away from you. How long has it been since he’s heard it? A millennium? An eon? Has it ever sounded so warm before? He’s blinking back tears, coughing past an ache in his chest, scrambling to collect himself before he looks back at you.

He could tell you any number of things and they would be true, but would they be enough? You’re the first face he’s seen in decades. You’re the first person who’s looked at him in years. You’re the first person who’s said his name without hurling it like a curse against him. You didn’t beg for your life when he appeared, you apologized like you bumped into him at the supermarket. Because he keeps waiting to see what you’re going to do next, say next, if you’re going to hold his gaze again.

But how does he say that to you?

He settles on his first realization of you. “Because you didn’t use me.”

You’re confused, fear falling away from your face completely as you puzzle through that statement. “I didn’t use you?”

He nods towards the book of spells that holds his invocation. “People summon demons to make deals—to use our power for their own gain. If we answer a call, it’s with the understanding that we’re being summoned to be leeched off of. You’re the first human I’ve ever come to who didn’t want anything from me.” If his throat tightens as he says it, he blames it on a millennium of loneliness and not the swell of pity that floods your eyes.

So he clears his throat and plops his chin in both palms. “Truth or dare?”

You’re warming up now, leaning into the rawness of the open wound he just exposed to you, and you feel your cheeks heat. “Dare.”

He’s stunned, delighted, and he smiles. “Dare?”

You swallow thickly, avoiding his gaze, and nod. “Dare.”

Jisung leans forward on his knees and one hand, the other lifting to wipe the last of your tears, and he lingers there, hovering right next to you. “Make a deal with me.”

The words strike you with conflicting fear and excitement, your eyes wide as you stare at him. Radiating heat from his skin kisses your face, feeding the blush on your cheeks. “But you just said—”

“It’s my deal,” He interrupts. “My terms with you.”

You don’t know whether to be scared or interested, but you have few options in the way of reactions. “What are the terms?”

“Summon me again.” He says simply. “Whenever you want to. Regularly. And I’ll protect you.”

You’re gaping directly into his face now, utterly baffled and not at all afraid. “Protect me from what?”

Jisung shrugs and lowers himself back into a seated position, this time so close that his knees are touching yours. “Anything, really. But there is the reality that once you’ve reached through the veil, there are traces of you on my side of it as well. Your presence is known now, you might be vulnerable to things from the other side.”

“Things?” You repeat. “What kinds of things?”

He frowns, like he doesn’t want to tell you. “Demons, spirits, the fallen. But I’ll protect you from all of them. They might not find you, they might not care—but if they do, I’ll be there.”

This is so much worse than a stupid prank demon summoning. “Why? Why would you make this deal?”

He smiles at you then, and it’s the most vulnerable he’s looked so far. “There’s not much in the way of goodness where I’m from. I miss it.”

“Goodness?” You repeat, frowning.

“You.” He says, reaching out and flicking your knee lightly. “Friendship. Smiles. Warm touch. Laughter. Shit—” He breaks off and turns his head away and you think you see him wiping wetness away from his own eyes. When he looks at you again, you almost think you had imagined it. “Give up your stupid ass friends and take me instead.”

You’re stunned; floored; flabbergasted. One of those weird hawk feathers on the bookshelves could knock you right over. “Jisung?” What do you even say to that?

He heaves a massive sigh and both of his hands curl over your knees. You don’t mind. You honestly don’t mind. Even if you know better than to trust him all at once, you don’t mind the way he’s touching you—the way he’s looking at you.

If he’s trying to trick you into some kind of possession, grooming you to be some kind of slave, you don’t know. You’re terrified that you’re being taken in by the most beautiful sad eyes you’ve ever seen, but right now you’re stuck.

He’s still watching you, eyes hooded and hoping, and you give a nod. “Okay. Deal.”

His fingers tighten around your knees and you would be terrified at the feeling of being caught in his grasp if it weren’t for the gaping grin that spreads across his face like you’ve just told a child he can go to Disney World.

“Is there some kind of blood pact we have to do to settle the deal? A contract?” You ask nervously, hoping you know which of the dozens of the books on the floor holds the invocation. “What if I summon the wrong demon on accident?”

“Just add my name to the invocation, I’ll come.” He says, and the smile on his face is addictive.

“You’ll come just because I call?”

Jisung squeezes your knees. “If you call me, I’ll come. And promise me you’ll ditch those assholes that locked you down here.” He pulls you closer to him, eyebrows lowering in earnest. “If any demon other than myself had answered, you could have come out of this experience very differently. I don’t want you around any more of their idiotic ideas.”

You laugh then, finally, and he stares at you in awe. “I promise.”

The demon straightens, satisfied, and then he’s extending one hand to you, which you willingly take this time. “The deal seals with a kiss. There’s no fine print, not for you. You have my word—regardless of what you think a demon’s word is worth.”

He has a point, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You let him pull you to your feet, you help him find the spell book and tear the page out, slipping it into your pocket like you’ve just gotten his phone number.

When he circles back to you, he doesn’t look so dangerous anymore. “Are you ready?”

You’re nervous, still doubting what may come of your future, but you’re not scared right now. Instead, you nod, and let his warm hands tilt your chin up. You see the black flames ignite in his eyes once again, just before Jisung presses a searing kiss to your lips and fire shoots down your body.

It’s a simple kiss, as simple as pushing a stamp into a wax seal, but when he leans back to observe the heat blooming across your cheeks, your mind is gone. You feel his forehead touch yours, the whisper of his breath on your skin, the burning impact of his next words, but you’re only barely keeping up.

Because you definitely no longer regret coming to this party, or losing that stupid drinking game.

“You’re mine now, baby,” Jisung whispers against your cheek, and flashes you a wink. “Just call me and I’m yours.”

@whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @estella-novella @babyphotos0325 @softfor-svtptg @furfoxsake22 @tubelightanyaa @kayleefriedchicken @rockstarkkami @sp1derst0rrr @eastjonowhere @its-stayville-forever @allenajade-ite @naraportokala @jinniejjam @blackberryrains @feetoffthemalfoy @highandalive @scarlet789 @ramadiiiisme @thecutiepieme @lemonn015 @p0is0ned-peach

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[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: What Did You Do? Ch. 1

Summary: “Nine Lives Lee”, a rare Stanley Pines who ended up on the other side of the portal instead of his brother, literally falls into the “Better World” that one dimension that most of the alternate versions of Stanford Pines tend to be jealous of and hold over Lee’s head as ‘proof’ that everyone would have been better off if he’d just done what his brother asked him. The Ford of this dimension, however, isn’t quite what he seems. And neither is his version of Stanley.

Rating: T+

Warnings:  Language, violence, medical related gore, and mentions of graphic violence. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

Disclaimer: Reverse Portal Stan "Nine Lives Lee" is owned by @urdadsceilingfan

This version of the Better World AU is owned by @mother-ofthe-universedraws

Ch.1

This isn’t the first time Lee’s stood at the ledge on the roof of a tall building, looking down, and contemplating his life and what it’s worth. How he got here. What he’s done so far. What his next move is. 

“Halt! You’re at the end of the line, old man.”

This isn’t the first time he’s been cornered by cops of a different dimension, either. He never bothered to learn what this particular organization liked to call themselves. Eventually, all of the acronyms and titles ran together, and it’d still be some echelon of police at the end of the day. After all, if it sounds like a pig, walks like a pig, and rolls around in shit like a pig, it’s a pig. Especially since some of the cops in this world were literal humanoid pigs; this version of Earth was half populated by regular humans, and the other half populated by anthropomorphic animals. 

At least they spoke his first language, English. He’s gotten better at learning languages over the years, having a sharper echoic memory than anyone would assume just by looking at him, but it was still annoying when he would go long stretches not able to understand anything because he didn’t know the local language. He really should get a universal translator one of these days. 

“Hands where we can see them!” He heard a multitude and clicks and the distinctive bzzt of electricity. Lee knew they were pulling out weapons on him, most likely handguns, tasers, and good ol’ fashioned nightsticks. He was pretty familiar with all of those, having been at the sending and receiving ends of them all. This version of Earth wasn’t advanced enough for energy based weaponry.

Lee slipped his portal gun into his jacket quickly and quietly, turning around as he did so. He slowly put his hands up in front of himself, in a defensive, if somewhat relaxed, guard.

“Up in the air, dirtbag!” The cop barked at him - quite literally, this particular officer is some humanoid dog. He noticed some of them had their eyes drawn to his right arm; his robotic one. He couldn’t blame them for being distracted, considering the tech here couldn’t have been advanced enough for a prosthetic like his.

Slowly Lee started to raise his hands.

And then he flipped them around with his middle fingers up, and did a free-fall backwards off of the ledge.

This isn’t the first time Lee’s known the view from halfway down.

But they didn’t call him Nine Lives Lee for nothing; because this also isn’t the first time Lee had opened a portal without the cops noticing until he’d already jumped.

“GET BACK HERE LEE!” One of the cops shouted at him as soon as they were able to sprint over to the ledge and look down at him, expecting a suicide attempt, only to be baffled by a swirling electric-blue vortex floating there, right in the path of Lee’s descent.

“See ya later sucker!” He called back, still keeping both middle fingers up even as bullets whizzed right past him but failed to quite make the mark. One lucky shot got him in in his robotic arm, but like most parallel Earth bullets, it just clinked right off.

The portal swallowed him up, and collapsed in on itself, winking right out of existence from Dimension-BoJ6

---

Lee had complicated feelings for Rick Sanchez. They were friends, rivals,  begrudging allies, enemies, lovers - sometimes all of those things at once. It’s a long story, a few decades of a long story in fact. But he never underestimated Rick’s brilliance. At one point in his travels, Rick had approached him; he needed some parts from a heavily guarded facility, and told Lee if he could get them without dying he would build him his own portal gun. Rift-Hunting was long and exhausting and he could go months to years stuck in a dimension before finding one, so of course Lee took the job. He’d had his trusty portal gun ever since.

However, for all of Rick’s undeniable genius, for the life of him Lee could not figure out why that dumbass never made portals that you could clearly see through. The guy had an entire civilization of alternate versions of himself, there was no way they couldn’t have cobbled their big brains and even bigger egos together and figured it out. Lee was still convinced they were just that dedicated to their sci-fi aesthetic.

Most of the time, both sides of the portal created by the gun were oriented the same - if you generated a portal two feet off of the ground and vertically upright, it’d be the same when you went through it. If you made a portal into the ground, usually you would fall through a floor and/or ceiling. This wasn’t always the case, however.

By making a portal horizontal, and mid-air up forty floors, Lee had expected to continue to free fall; he would still have plenty of time between falling through the portal and hitting the ground to get himself properly oriented and get his emergency landing gear in time.

This time, the ground was less than five feet below him.

“Ough!” Lee grunted, the wind knocked out of him as he landed on his back onto a concrete floor, he also felt a sharp burst of pain in the back of his head when that also smacked against the dusty concrete, the blow slightly softened by his beanie. “...Ouch.”

Sweet Moses, he knew he was up there in years but did he really need to get humbled by a lower back pain flare? The impact has caused the muscles there to start spasming, and he knew it’d take hours to stop on its own if he didn’t do something about it.

Lee grimaced as he sat up, and took in his darkened surroundings as he reached down to his utility belt, feeling around for the right compartment. Appeared to be some kind of basement, with abandoned shelves, desks, and tables. It was dusty down here, but not a thick blanket, so it was not abandoned, just seldom visited. It looked like the room was slightly in ruins, because there were loose pieces of the concrete wall and floor scattered around. There was a peculiar structure behind him, where his portal had spat him out; some inverted triangle with a hole in the center-.

Lee's entire body froze for a split second; it wasn’t like him to let himself get caught off guard, but he knew exactly what he was looking at. After all, it was the very same structure he’d been sucked into almost thirty years ago, jettisoning him from his original dimension, and his twin brother who he’d just been fighting with-.

All of these years later and the sizzle from the structure he’d kicked Ford into, and the horrific, pained scream from his brother that followed still haunted him when he thought about it.

Rising slowly due to his flaring pain, Lee’s flesh hand pulled a syringe from his medical pouch, and his prosthetic hand brought his portal gun close to his face so he could read the console home screen for the information it’d gathered as soon as he fell into this dimension:

[€ΔŘŦĦ ¥€ΔŘ: 2010

₣Ř€Ω ΜΔŦĆĦ: Ň€ǤΔŦƗV€

Đ€ŞƗǤŇΔŦƗØŇ: Ǥβ-1100

₣Ř€€ ŴƗ₣Ɨ? ŇØ]

Damn. The negative frequency match told him what didn’t surprise him, but still disappointed him; this wasn’t his dimension. Well, you could only get so lucky when you set the destination to ‘random’ and ‘habitable atmosphere’. Although, hasn’t he heard of Dimension BG-1100 before? He had an inkling he’d at least heard that designation before.

Lee rose fully to his feet, grimacing as the sharp pain shooting up from his lower back, he uncapped his syringe and, clenched in fist, he brought it under his coat and shifted his belt line low enough to expose the skin underneath, and using that same fist as a landmark to measure below his hip. He didn’t bother to count down this time, he just gave himself the injection.

“⋔⍜⏁⊑⟒⍀⎎⎍☊☍⟒⍀!” Lee hissed harshly under his breath; he even didn’t remember exactly what that language was called, because he’d learned it five or so dimensions ago, but he was very familiar with that specific phrase because of how frequently he’d used it when he was frustrated, angry, in pain, or really didn’t like the person he was talking to. As soon as the syringe was completely out of the cocktail of ketorolac and cyclobenzaprine, the needle automatically retracted, and he sighed in relief as his pain started to dissipate. He put the spent syringe into a different pouch; he used to not be opposed to just tossing these where he was, until some people started using those to get his DNA to track him.

Speaking of tracking-

There was a glowing red dot in the corner of the massive room. Lee halted all movement, and strained to see what the source was, which wasn’t easy given the room being dark. Whether it was a camera, a drone, or some other kind of sci-fi security device, he knew when something was recording him. 

The sci-fi adventuring badass in him wanted to destroy it with his blaster, quick and easy. But Lee wouldn’t have gotten this far if he wasn’t practical; his blaster had limited charges, and he didn’t need to run out mid-fight just because he’d decided to be extra. There wasn’t just one type of quick and easy, after all. 

He did a precursory scan of his surroundings and- aha! He knelt over and picked up a loose chunk of concrete- good thing this place didn’t seem to ever get cleaned or fixed up. Straining slightly, he held the chunk in his robotic hand, focused on the red dot in the corner, and chucked the piece of concrete at it as hard as his prosthetic arm would let him - which was a lot harder than his flesh arm could manage.

The red dot went out as the chunk made contact, and the piece of technology that emitted it in the corner fell to the ground in pieces. Quick and easy, and he didn’t have to use any of his stuff. Still, he’d already been recorded, he needed to make himself scarce before trouble came looking for him.

He slid his gaze to the side and up when he heard the distinct sound of locks and chains being messed with. 

Great.

He looked around for something to crouch behind.

From upstairs, he could hear the rusty squeak from a door opening, and sliding across the floor, followed by semi-sharp footsteps descending down the stairs, picking up in sound enough Lee could assess what he was hearing.

‘Dress shoes’ He deduced - not boots or sneakers, so whoever this was at a disadvantage for running and fighting. So fight and flight were both still on the table. Good, he liked having options.

The distinct shape of a human took the last step from the stairs into the basement, and for a moment just stood there. Lee could see that their gaze was fixed onto the inverted triangle of the portal.

Tall. Thin- a variant of McGucket, perhaps? If this was his brothers basement on another parallel Earth, Fiddleford McGucket was a constant in his life. Most of the time he was batshit crazy, but in some dimensions he’d retained his sanity. 

But every time he was a genius, and every time he had some gadget on him with the word ‘Death’ in it and there were only so many chances Lee was willing to take.

The figures back was turned to him as they walked forward and felt around the walls, likely looking for a lightswitch. They had still, jerky movements; joint pain. Yeah, if this was McGucket he’d be getting up there in years just like him.

Lee slid along the opposite side of the room, slinking around the shadows and willing his steps to be as silent as possible.

He’d made it all the way to the base of the stairs when he’d misjudged a turn and his prosthetic arm smacked clanked against the metal banister of the stairs. He inwardly cursed; on if the things they don’t tell you about prosthetics is that is can sometimes mess up your spacial awareness, something you’d really need in the dark.

“Who’s there?” The figure asked and Lee didn’t have time to take in the details of their voice because he saw them point something long and cylindrical at him-

Like a shotgun.

In an instant he’d run over and tackled the figure, and they both tumbled to the floor, knocking the rifle out of the figure's hand, while the other hand flipped on the switch on the wall during the initial tackle.

The lights in the basement flicked in slowly, but that was enough time for Lee to straddle the figure and reach for his-

“St-.... Stanley?” The voice below him quivered, like a choked up whisper of surprise and awe, making Lee freeze up right before his hand could grasp his knife. 

That was a name he never used anymore.

And that was a voice he’d heard before, it was rusty and heavy but-

Lee dares to look up from his side - and he saw that the object he’d knocked out of the mans hand was not a rifle but a cane - and to the face of the man he’d knocked down. A prominent nose and cleft chin, gray hair streaked in silver, and, most importantly, it was almost exactly the same as his own face.

He’d met many variants of this man throughout the multiverse, and it was never a warm reception; there was always hostility and resentment from the other end. But this man looked at him like he was seeing something that amazed but terrified him.

“Ford?”

To be continued…

---

NOTES

-“View From Halfway Down” is a reference to Bojack Horseman. And yes, the world Lee was in initially was the Bojack Horseman universe. The name of the dimension, BoJ6 comes from “BoJack”, and 6 from the number of seasons.

-The scene where Lee escapes is a direct rederence to this art of him

-The Portal Guns text is from the Delta font from https://pixelied.com/font-generator/discord if you have trouble reading it, here’s what it said:

[Earth Year: 2010

FREQ MATCH: NEGATIVE

Designation: GB1100

Free WiFi? No]

-Dimension-GB1100 is the designation for the “Better World” AU because in Caesar Cipher with shift 5, GB = BW or "Better World". "1100" is for "IIOO" or the initials in "International Institute of Oddology".

-The language used by Lee in the beginning is from Alien Speech Translator

-Ketorolac is a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID) used to reduce inflammation and pain and often used for acute back pain, and Cyclobenzaprine is a muscle relaxer that can treat pain and muscle spasms. Stan probably carries like a dozen vials of a personalized mix that he acquires through stealing various means.

-I thought it’d be interesting if compared to Stanford’s photographic memory (having a highly detailed memory of things you see), Lee had echoic memory (highly detailed memory of things you hear), which is what helped him learn to pick up languages easily, and take in his surroundings when his vision was impaired (and considering he went through the portal without glasses, he needed that skill). It’s also ironic, considering that canon Stan uses a hearing aid.

[mayapapaya33]

Well at least you're disagreeing with what I DID say and not what I DIDN'T say! That's fine then, I much prefer that. Yeah, sure, agree to disagree that's fine.

As for the misogyny bit you're going for... um no. It's a bit ungenerous that you defaulted to that interpretation but ok. No, like Yeza, I am supportive of Veth's career as a strong independent adventurer lol. In your mind is there no happy medium between what happened in canon and what you just proposed? Her cowering in a basement in Felderwin forever? Do you REALLY think that's what I meant? Yeza loves her enough to not live in Felderwin in the latter part of the campaign, do you really think he wouldn't leave Felderwin for her if she had somehow managed to explain the situation to him earlier, or if finding a way to get a new body took longer than it did in canon? What if they never found an answer? What if she was stuck in the body of a goblin forever? Would she have been justified in never telling her family and never seeing them again?

Goblins are not reviled everywhere in the world, there are places they could live together in peace. And let's be real, how old is Luc anyway? Who knows? Certainly not Veth! Does he remember the terror of the goblin camp properly in his teeny tiny toddler brain? Even if he does remember, Goblins are a race of people not actually creatures so they should probably confront that at some point so that he isn't scared and prejudiced against an entire race for the rest of his life due to childhood trauma. Idk just putting that out there.

For instance, in this alternate universe where finding a spell for a new body took longer, maybe they could have set up a home base somewhere less anti-goblin for Yeza and Luc to live, much like the set up in Nicodranas during the latter half of C2 with Veth popping in and out visiting them between adventures. My point about finding a new body taking longer is that at a certain point, it does become a conscious choice to stay away from her family on Veth's part. Yes, the goblins are 100% responsible for their initial separation, but at some point, it is Veth's choice that keeps them apart. So how long does it take for it to stop being an acceptable decision? 1 year, 5 years? 10 years?

The Mighty Nein could hold off the entire city of Felderwin if they tried to start shit with Veth, so eventually it's not about her bodily safety anymore. It's about her fear of rejection. (I'm fairly certain Caleb could take the whole town by himself with a well-placed AOE lmfao). And I know they are allergic to it, but subtlety is also an option. Seriously, what if they never found an answer to get her a new body? Would she have never seen her family again? Sometimes there is no answer to life's gross unfairness, and you just have to bear terrible things and live your life anyway. That's my point. I'm thrilled for Veth that she got her wizard treatment plan and has a new body. That's fantastic! I'm saying sometimes life doesn't work out like that, and how long is it ok for her, or Anyone, Male, Female, Non-Binary, what-fucking-ever, to stay away from their family and not reconnect with them?

I hold everyone to the same standards of parenting I'm holding Veth to btw. Shitty double standards are shitty. I think Veth tries hard and does her best. But sometimes your best isn't good enough. To be blunt, she's an alcoholic who can't remember how old her kid is. Yes, the meta reason for that is because Sam Riegel can't resist making a joke and child ages are hard and he didn't think about it before the show. But Yeza knows how old Luc is and Veth doesn't. She straight up said she was drunk for most of his childhood. (1:04:26) The Mighty Nein Reunion: Echos of the Solstice.

Now, this is NOT to shame people for having a substance abuse issue, it's a serious problem and people deserve compassion and help. But it's still a serious issue that causes a lot of problems for the people around them. Again, in the entire context of the show, the scenes themselves are all very funny, but the in-universe facts of the matter are actually quite sad. Think about it, she was drunk for MOST of his childhood. Think about the implications of that.

To take the spotlight off of Veth for a moment, let's speak of probably my favorite mom in critical role, Marion. Perhaps this will clarify my stance on things, and maybe you'll still disagree, but that's ok. I love her dearly and she is a wonderful person. She is kind and caring and she love's Jester with all of her heart, but she is also not the best at parenting on the planet. She did the best she could, but her agoraphobia caused her to unintentionally neglect Jester. It's not her fault that she's mentally ill, but it was her responsibility to take care of Jester, and in that respect she failed. Life is hard and no one is perfect. Sometimes that's just the way it is. But child neglect is still child neglect, even when it's unintentional and you have good reasons. Now, I happen to like Marion as a person more than I like Veth, but I'm holding her to the same standards. Are you taking care of your kid, yes or no?

You said that Veth is indulgent because she feels guilty, yes that is 100% what it is. Which is totally understandable but doesn't exactly lead to the best parenting decisions or the best partnering decisions either. Honestly poor Yeza got volunteered into owning a dog and having their kid do combat training without even a private conversation, you'd think that would warrant a discussion between them. (I'd be annoyed if a male character unilaterally decided something like that without consulting a female character, why not extend the same consideration to Yeza?)

Here's an example, Scene starts at C2 E71 (1:43:43): She unloads the crossbow of arrows, puts the "safety" on (lol) and stresses the importance of a balanced education, so that's great! Well done parenting right there! But she does immediately follow it up by getting the crossbow back from Luc by trading him a Grappling Hook for it lmfao. Not super safe for a 5ish year old to be playing with, those things are sharp! If she gave him extra candy or toys that would be one thing, even the dog is pretty forgivable and within acceptable levels of spontaneous indulgence given everything they've been through. I feel like THIS level of indulgence crosses some pretty firm parenting lines of Hey, maybe don't hand a 5ish year old something they could accidentally kill/maim themselves with! Maybe that's just me though?

Scene starts at C2 E71 (1:43:43) but she trades him a grappling hook at (1:48:23) hahaha.

If you watch all those family scenes again, try your hardest to ignore how funny everyone is being, which is a difficult task I'll grant you, and actually look at what is factually happening with the characters, and you'll see what I'm talking about. Or maybe you won't, like I said, it's fine to have different interpretations of things. I'm not saying she's a bad person, I'm saying she's a complicated person and she's not super great at parenting, but she does try.

Or here's a big example, how about that time Luc straight up died because Veth and Jester couldn't shut the fuck up for 10 minutes to let Caleb cast the dome to make their families safer in a completely unknown location while they were on the run from a terrifying evil wizard? You'd think responsible parenting (or responsible daughtering, looking at you Jester, your mom is right there!) would prioritize the safety of the child, rather than wandering around chatting about future plans for a detective agency in a potentially dangerous situation.

Veth IS a rogue, they could have snuck around the whole time, but they were having fun and got careless, and the cost was steep. She lucked out big time that Caduceus is THE Cleric of all time and saved a spell slot. (The blame is shared 50/50 with Jester on this one, it's just a vibrant example of the shit I'm talking about. She's reckless, makes bad decisions, and endangers people accidentally).

Again, the meta reason for this is because Sam and Laura can't stop cracking jokes, and THEY were having fun, and weren't paying attention to the volume of the conversation because the CR cast forget to do that all the time anyway. Too bad for Veth and Jester that it reflects INCREDIBLY badly on their characters this particular time. And Veth has a history of carelessness so you can't even say it's out of character, or just a one-off incident. Considering she accidentally killed both Caduceus and herself by being careless, it's a fairly consistent character flaw at this point.

(At least she pays child support though lol you are correct. Where's Relvin's child support Liliana?! Granted the child support payments from nowhere did freak Yeza out a bit so they might also double as accidental psychological warfare, but oh well, she DID try, I give her all the credit for that!)

As for the "hag thing" it's not about "thought crimes" or whatever, it's about her having the support system around her to have the strength necessary TO resist stuff like that and like Halas, etc. It's like how without the Mighty Nein Caleb would almost certainly have ended up back in Trent's web as a Volstrucker (Liam and Matt said it themselves, and that was Matt's plan if Caleb left the group) or Fjord would have ended up releasing Uk'otoa (Uk'otoa). Thinking about doing a thing, and doing the thing are not the same. I merely acknowledge the potential inside her for doing the things, and I think it's more than "just a thought" or a "moment of weakness." In the right circumstances, I think she'd do it. But she has support and love and hope and a wizard treatment plan, so she won't.

If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤

[nickssidewitch]

🦸🏻‍♂️⚡️~Sturniolo & Friends— Superhero AU~✨🦸🏾‍♀️

The Alternate Universe where your favorite (or not so favorite) YouTubers have superpowers.

I used my tarot and energy reading abilities to figure out what powers they could have! 🥰🤍✨

✨…Here are just a few:

🩻🧘🏻 Nick:

Teleportation

Telekinesis

Telepathy

X-Ray Vision

Aura Sight

Sonic Scream (yell really loud to damage people)

🫂🦋 Matt:

Flight

Clairsentience

Clairempathy

Pathokinesis or Emotion Manipulation (Can make people fall in love with him, cry, etc.) but this is suppressed due to embarrassment and ethical reasons

🏃🏻‍♂️💨 Chris:

Super Strength

Super Speed

Enhanced Agility

Precognition (can see flashes of the future)

🌱🤺 Larri:

Elite Fighting Skills (can time hits perfectly and knows weak spots)

Nature Communication (Zoolingualism, can talk to animals; Botanilinguism, can talk to plants)

🌬️❄️ Tara:

Cryokinesis

Size Shifting/Shrinking (can change her height, but unfortunately she can't grow taller than she already is)

☄️🔥 Jake:

Pyrokinesis

Super Strength

🌘👻 Johnnie:

Medium (sees spirits and can communicate with them)

Nightvision

Invisibility

Siren (sings to hypnotize)

⚙️🔌 Carrington:

Laser-eyes

Electrokinesis

Inventor/Craftsman (Can build literally anything; best in the universe)

Master Manipulator/Persuasive

🐈‍⬛📸 Quen:

Photographic memory

Cat-like powers (getting through tough spaces, growing claws, balance)

🎰💵 Justin:

Psychic/Clairvoyant/Clairaudient

Body language expert (Can study people’s expressions, even microexpressions and know their next movements)

[angelltheninth]

Hi Angell, I was wondering what your Arcane ships were?

I think I'm super basic except for one, but I am a multishipper at heart so anything here goes.

Piltover's Finest/Caitvi - shipped them since high school where some of my friends introduced me to League, which I played once before I decided it was not for me, but safe to say I've been shipping them for a long time and couldn't be happier that they're canon

Meljay - love them so much, they're really soft around each other, I like how Jayce brings out Mel's more tender side and manages to get around the armor of the politician she made around herself, and I like how protective Mel gets of Jayce and comforts him when he needs it

Jayvik - always a sucker for a good co-workers to lovers dynamic, they compliment each other in a lot of ways and I think they have such devotion to each other, cause even if you look at them as completely platonic the affection and devotion is still there no matter what

Meljayvik - let Mel have her two nerds and love them, not to mention that Mel and Viktor are foils to each other in many ways, in terms of color and narrative, and Jayce holds them together with his big strong, buff arms, plus it feels like they would all feel the need to take care of each other when they get overworked

Skyvik - we all know Sky had a crush on Viktor for a long time but he was too much of a workaholic nerd to notice, that being said s2 gave me so much with them, and I don't think Viktor lied at at all when he said he was gonna miss Sky's company and talking with her

Timebomb - friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, doomed by the narrative, this ship has it all and is canon in a alternate reality, I will never not love the bond these two have and how they manage to pull each other up when they need it

Lightcannon - I was always a fan of Lux and Jinx, again since high school and they were the second ship I shipped in the fandom, they haven't met in the animated universe (yet) but they are best friends and classmates in the Magical Girl timeline, and there are implications that Jinx has a crush on Lux there

Piltover's Finest Spy - now is one I that took me by complete surprise but as someone who loves Maddie this is me being delusional, I'm not saying she still can't be evil, but this has potential for angst, redemption, and a hot threesome, what more do I need to say

[lurkingshan]

The other day in a conversation about I'll Turn Back This Time, @troubled-mind asked me about my favorite dramas that show the same couple falling in love multiple times, in different iterations.

So of course, I am now here with a list! Takes on the fantasy trope that ITBTT uses--an alternate universe and/or time travel mechanism that sets up the protagonist to fall in love with the same person, or different versions of the same person, more than once--is actually not super common in dramas, but there are a handful of shows that do something like this:

Triage 

If you ask me what is the best QL with this trope, I don't even need to think about it: Triage is the answer. I love this show, and alongside its masterful suspense plot you get to watch these two try (and fail) to get the other to fall for them over and over again. It's a great time.

Someday or One Day 

If you ask me what is the best drama with this trope, period, I have to hand it to Someday or One Day, a Taiwanese drama that is probably my favorite time travel alternate universe romance of all time. In this one you get multiple versions of the same characters falling in love with each other and traversing time and space to find each other. It's so good that a Korean production attempted to replicate its magic. An absolute must watch for people who love this trope!

Every You Every Me

Now we're getting into some with asterisks. In this show you get to watch the same two actors play multiple different pairs who fall in love with each other in different universes--kind of. I can't say more or I will spoil it for those who haven't seen it yet! It's not a perfect show by any means, but it's a lot of fun.

4 Minutes 

This show is not a great example of this trope IMO, but it sort of gets at the experience, as you see a few different versions of the lead characters and their relationship through various narrative turns. I'm keeping it vague because saying much more would be spoilerific!

The Legend of the Blue Sea

A mermaid meets a conman, has a whirlwind romance, and then deletes his memory. But oops! They were already lovers in a previous life, her mermaid powers are not working quite as planned, and she can't stop herself from finding him again anyway. It's all a bit more complicated than that, but the point is you get to watch these two find each other and fall in love several times in multiple lifetimes. And damn did I love it every time.

Until We Meet Again 

In this drama, the story is about two souls who meet again in another life after a tragic end in their first. So it kinda fits here, but their reincarnated souls go into new characters played by different actors, so the experience of watching it is a bit different. This one is less about time travel and choice as it is heavy on the red string of fate.

Extraordinary You 

In this fantasy drama, our mains are side characters in a manwha who gain sentience and start trying to change their story together while an omnipotent writer keeps shuffling them back to where they think they belong and deleting their memories of each other. It's definitely a unique twist on this trope, and you get to watch them fight to remember and fall for each other and find a way to take control of their destiny over and over again.

In addition to narratives with a fantasy construct that resets or produces multiple iterations of the core relationship, I also thought about second chance romances where you get to see both the original and the second chance love story in full, giving you the experience of watching the same two people fall in love twice. Some noteworthy dramas in this category:

Lighter and Princess

This drama centers on two tech genius types who originally fell in love in college and started a company together before something went very wrong, resulting in his incarceration. The story picks up when he gets out of prison and sets out to reclaim his legacy, and you get to live both their first and second love stories in detail. One of my absolute favorites and permanently in the rewatch rotation.

We Best Love 

This story is told in two parts, with the first focused on their original enemies to lovers romance in college, and the second their reunion after a confusing and closure-less break up. It's honestly kind of a mess but I love it so much anyway, in no small part due to the actors.

The End of the World With You 

And now for something a little darker! This one is heavy on the toxic psychosexual vibe, and all the more fascinating for it. Two former lovers meet again at the end of the world, and we see what went wrong for them in college and watch them sort through the wreckage as adults and try to make something of the time they have left.

First Love: Hatsukoi

Two high school sweethearts get separated by life circumstances, and meet again twenty years later to realize they are still not over it. I was charmed by the teen love story in this one especially.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

Let me end on a note of excellence and take this opportunity to again implore everyone to watch this beautiful show. Both iterations of this relationship are compelling and complicated and full of deep feeling; it's one of the most satisfying second chance romances I have seen, and after everything they've been through, it's so rewarding to see these two get the chance to fall in love again.